#as in they barely talk and most conversations are 'have you heard of that shit (the other sibling) did'

[blood-orange-juice]

Hold on, you said something about Childe having a fabulously gay brother?? How did I miss that?

It's a headcanon! It's never mentioned in the game but look at this guy. No way he doesn't have a fabulously gay older brother.

As in, WHO DO YOU THINK PICKED HIS GLOVES FOR HIM? Huh? Huh?

[chelseeebe]

just a taste

18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.

a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here. 

“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?” 

“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking. 

“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.” 

“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.

“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.

this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.

“now?” 

she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.” 

eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.” 

“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched. 

she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room. 

he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it. 

-

eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message. 

“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something. 

he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much. 

you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave. 

two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now. 

not if you were sleeping in his bed. 

it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it. 

“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done. 

who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly. 

“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process. 

“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips. 

“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.” 

his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze. 

'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation. 

-

when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie. 

eddie usually hated movie nights in the house. 

jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre. 

leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered. 

tonight it’s different, you get to pick. 

and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it. 

you land on edward scissorhands. 

not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble. 

in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.

at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath. 

he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.

robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way. 

“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary. 

you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on. 

he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you. 

unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone. 

-

living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive. 

it’s torturous. 

testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding. 

so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.

of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night. 

his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know. 

though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land. 

now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act. 

eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core. 

good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour. 

tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case. 

gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him. 

reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief. 

oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.

“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips. 

eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red. 

“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears. 

your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt. 

you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand. 

“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?” 

eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was. 

“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up. 

“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?” 

there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off. 

“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away. 

you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek. 

eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window. 

“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?” 

he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started. 

“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out. 

you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please. 

-

at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him. 

you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article. 

“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,” 

he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making. 

“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did. 

“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across. 

if only she knew. 

eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.  

he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria. 

cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now. 

everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties. 

-

eddie can’t take it anymore. 

he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer. 

but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure. 

the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport. 

he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women. 

your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand. 

“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down. 

robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful. 

thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose 

he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones. 

how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?

“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much. 

“you want some help with that?” 

eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion. 

it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs. 

“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager. 

he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame. 

your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?

this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric. 

eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.

the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house. 

the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin. 

when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking. 

your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears. 

no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was. 

“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch. 

his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere. 

you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house. 

eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute. 

it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life. 

“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.

you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable

“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.

"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.

“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.

“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.

“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.  

“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.

[noemilivv]

Could I please request a Vox, Adam, and Lucifer x GN! Reader who’s typically very chatty and hyper when excited. And maybe somebody says something like “you talk too much”, and it obviously gets to the reader. And how Vox, Adam, and Lucifer would respond and/ or defend their s/o? Thank you!~ :3

ofc!! this is very fun to brainstorm and write for haha (especially for Vox)

Warnings: S1 finale spoilers in Lucifer’s section, randos + Alastor being shitheads

Adam, Lucifer, Vox x Reader who talks a lot

Adam

He had absolutely no idea you felt this way until you two were having a conversation before bed, and he said something he didn't mean

“Geez, you talk a lot.” Adam commented with a light hearted chuckle as he looked down at you, snuggled into his chest and the covers of your shared bed, he didn’t mean any harm though, it was more so commentary.

“I can stop…” You murmured, embarrassed. “No no no, it’s okay, keep going.” He said, rushing to cut you off, as he snuggled your face deeper into his chest.

Adam won’t hesitate to jump in if somebody says something, because only HE can do that.

“You talk too much, you need to calm down, it’s not that serious.” An angel said, while at a meeting, your shoulders dropped before you heard your boyfriend pipe up,

“And? Who gives a fuck? It’s fucking Heaven, bitch. People are allowed to talk and be happy, damn bruh, you’re a fucking party pooper!”

Lucifer

He has his own tendencies to go on endless rants here and there so honestly you both just talk nonstop, and he doesn’t mind a bit!

If someone were to say something to you, he’d have a reaction similar to his reaction with the Charlie-Adam fight, but more tame cause the person didn’t physically harm you

“Stop talking and let me finish!” Alastor said cheerfully with a grin as he went to continue his sentence.

“You don’t get to talk to my partner that way, you smiling freak.” Luci said with a forced grin between gritted teeth, turning his focus away from the conversation with his daughter and her girlfriend and putting it to the conversation between you and Alastor.

“I’m the smiling freak? Look at you! You’re face is all messed up, especially that god-awful smile.” Alastor remarked, poking the bear that was the very protective Lucifer Morningstar, both when it came to his daughter and his partner.

“OKAY!” Charlie said attempting to separate the two, with Vaggie rushing to her aid.

Yeah, if they weren’t stopped, that wouldn’t have ended well😀

Vox

He doesn’t mind your talks, he’s a good listener, but he might not catch everything if he’s working, but if he’s not? He’s all ears.

He’ll act super nonchalant about it, but he thinks it’s the cutest thing.

Normally, he isn’t willing to cause a scene because of his status, but when someone insults the thing he loves most about his partner? Yeah, that shit isn’t flying with him around.

You were scrolling through the comments of the most recent interview that Vox had on his show, which happened to be with you, and you couldn’t bare what you were reading. Mainly the comments like: ‘Omfg Vox’s partner doesn’t stop talking’ or ‘Vox can do better’ or ‘Can they just shut the fuck up? Like bro it’s not that hard.’

You just shut your phone off and slammed it onto the night stand, as tears trickled down your face, all you wanted was to be enough for him, if these people think these things, he probably would to.

You hear someone enter your shared bedroom, with you curled up in blankets and sniffles coming out of you, you feel the bed dip next to you, and a robotic voice that has to belong to Vox ask, “What’s troubling you, my dear?”

“People are just mean…” You mumbled, turning on your other side to face him and picking up your phone and handing it to Vox, you watched Vox scroll for a moment, watching his eye twitch angrily.

“I will handle it, sweetheart. I’ll be right back, don’t you worry your precious mind about a thing.” Vox said, stroking your hair, as he got up and left the room.

Turns out, Vox did a bit of…digging. He got the contact information of the main commenter who gave you issues, and sent them, a little surprise video…

The video showed Vox in office chair, he got straight to the point immediately, banging his fist onto his desk. “Listen here, you little bitch.” He growled, he was glitching out of anger already, damn.

“You don’t get to talk about my partner that way.” Vox stated, waving his pointer finger at the camera, “And if you do?” Vox asked rhetorically, giving a fake grin, before he became more visibly angry then you’ve ever seen him.

“I will personally find you myself, you low-life, fucking loser, and I will tear you apart. Just because your a sad sad, 40 year old virgin man, who still lives with mommy and daddy rent-free and plays on your VoxBox all day, doesn’t mean you get to insult my partner, and you should know better to not EVER pull that shit again, and if you even think about trying to I’ll fly drowns all throughout Hell and make sure they fucking find you and rip you apart, you hear me?”

His anger falters as the glitch does in his voice, “Anyway, have a lovely day, and don’t fuck with my partner again.” He said with his usual show grin as the screen went black immediately.

Yeah, don’t expect him to do that often.

[reidingandwriting]

Nice To Meet Ya! > w.w. & l.h.

Word Count: ~1,900

Pairings: Wade Wilson x Reader, Logan Howlett x Reader, it’s (the beginning of) a throuple over here

Warnings: Fem!reader (she pronouns used like. twice in the very end), to be expected amounts of cursing and vulgarity from Wade, lots of cursing in general tbh, maybe a little OOC Logan, still getting to learn how to write his character well (Deadpool and Wolverine gave me brain worms so I had to write this immediately after watching)

A/N: This may become a little bit of a series! I’m having so much fun writing them since I Finally watched Deadpool and Wolverine so there will be a lot of solo & duo content with these two. This part is a little Wade focused but the next part is more Logan focused 🫶🏻

Next Chapter

You never in a million years imagined this would be your life. You were raised by busy parents, and you quickly became self sufficient. Independent. When you hit your teenage years, your parents… god knows where they went, to be honest. All you knew is you had a house to yourself, you didn’t have friends anymore, and as lonely as it was, you found a bit of comfort in the solitude. You worked as a bartender at this bar not too far from your house, and you were a crowd favorite. You always brought in the biggest tips and many of the patrons were protective over you.

Your longest regular was the merc with a mouth- Deadpool. Wade, as he introduced himself once, a faint whisper. The fabric of his mask rubbing against your cheek as he whispered the name in your ear. Wade Wilson.

He was... Loud, to say the least. You didn’t think he had an off switch. He insisted he did- but you’d have to go under his suit to find it, he teased you. He never stopped talking and there was no such thing as small talk with him; if you were talking to him, he was downright vulgar, and the quite frankly gross sense of humor was entertaining. He also flirted like it was his job. Much like the rest of his vocabulary, his flirting was pure filth that would make even the most seasoned sailor blush. And god forbid any creep start talking to you.

“Hey, princess, sorry I’m late. Too busy blowing my load to the thought of you, then remembered, wait! I can come see your fine ass in person whenever I want. Wanna finish me off?” You could practically feel the smirk Wade was sending you. You gestured for him to lean in, waiting until he was leaned against the bar, chest hovering above the countertop as you leaned in.

“In your dreams, dick for brains.” Your lips brushed against where his were covered by his mask, and you smirked when you heard the sharp intake of breath. The gasp almost impossible to hear, but it made your heart flutter all the same.

“You, sweet thang? Always. Holy fucking shit, that was so hot.” You and Wade had quickly become friends, his personality meshing well with yours. After ‘baby knife’ had somehow found itself in the hand of some perv that had been borderline stalking you at work for weeks, you found a new part of his personality. His protectiveness. He was as chipper as ever, but with the manic energy of someone who could, and would, kill someone who mildly inconvenienced someone he cared for. Unhinged, barely holding onto his minimal self restraint to splatter the guy’s blood all over the wall. Wouldn’t want you to have a mess to clean up, he admitted once it was just the two of you.

He offered to walk you home once after he’d known you for a few weeks, and now it was habit. You loved the times you had with just him. He was the same old Wade, but more open about himself. More vulnerable. These walks were where you got to know Wade, and he got to know you. You had let him crash one night, not that long ago, when it was storming hard. He had already insisted on walking you home, storm be damned, and you repaid him with a home cooked meal, some trashy movie, and a night of conversation on your couch until you dozed off, your head lolling to the side and landing on his shoulder.

Hours later, you had woken up, now lying down and the comfortable weight of Wade’s hand in your hair from where your head rested on his thighs. By the time the sun rose, you were alone in your living room, the only trace Wade had been there being a sloppy drawing of the Deadpool mask and a heart he scribbled on the whiteboard of your fridge. You smiled at the doodle and left it up, it still being up there today.

You stood at your spot behind the bar a few weeks later when someone new walked into the building, and you tilted your head. Newcomers weren’t entirely unheard of, but they were pretty rare, especially on a weekday. You took in the man as he stood near the doorway; brown hair, and oh fuck, good beard. The leather jacket he wore did little to hide how muscular he was and you watched as he scanned the room. Body tense, as if looking for potential threats. Potential ways out if danger occurred. Not like anyone would mess with him, aura alone enough to scare off anyone within a ten foot radius, let alone the hard look in his eyes.

Still, he walked over to the bar and took a seat. You offered a gentle smile, watching for another second before speaking. “You seem like a whiskey fan.”

His hazel gaze shifted up to meet your eyes, and you felt as if he was staring right into your god damned soul. It was intimidating, it was hot, and you couldn’t decide whether you should look away or lean in and-

“Yeah. Whiskey’s nice.” He nodded his head towards a bottle behind you. You nodded and went to pour a glass as he spoke again. “You always try to guess orders?”

“Only the interesting ones. Or the pretty ones.” You winked before turning, smiling when you heard the slightest huff of amusement. “Haven’t seen you here before. New in town?”

“Somethin’ like that.” You turned back around, setting the glass in front of him, propping up on your elbows as he drank. “Thanks.” He looked familiar but god, you couldn’t place where you had seen him before. You made light conversation, most of the talking done by you, but you found that you didn’t mind. He listened, intently. Everything he did seemed to be intense, like it was his default. You were grateful for the slow night, getting to see a glimpse of the man behind the bulletproof walls he had clearly built around himself.

“You thirsty slut! Of course I’d find you here.” You heard Wade’s voice before you saw him, and an annoyed scowl took over the unknown man’s face.

“Thirsty slut? Thought that was your autobiography title,” you said and Wade gasped in mock offense.

“You know I don’t read! Mocking the illiterate, how dare you?” Wade hopped onto the counter, hip almost knocking the glass of whiskey over.

“I don’t get how you’re late to a place you wanted to go to.” The brunette man said, voice low and rough, and Wade waved a hand dismissively.

“So uptight, can you believe it? Need to pull the stick out of your ass, maybe put it in-“

“La la la la la, not listening,” you sang, covering your ears, and Wade turned to you.

“You traitor! I leave you alone for five minutes and Wolvie has his claws in you.” Wolvie… Holy fuck, you were trying to flirt with the Wolverine. “And, Peanut, you know I’d never be late on purpose. Except I really needed to piss, then I got distracted by this really cute dog outside and I ended up totally abandoning my favorite dog.” Wade reached out to pat him, and you watched as a sliver of claws extended from his hands. A warning that didn’t seem to deter Wade much, but he did put his hand down. “Well, might as well introduce you.” Wade told you his name was Logan, and Wade told Logan your name in return.

You and Wade continued to talk, Logan yet again preferring to listen rather than join the conversation. Wade told the story of how he met Logan, how together the two of them essentially saved the world, and how the two of them were now roommates. Begrudgingly, according to Logan, but Wade seemed thrilled about his ‘roomie’.

It was hours later when the three of you left the bar. Wade insisted on walking you home, taking your hand in his and skipping down the street with you. Logan was a few paces behind you, his presence a comforting sense behind you. Where Wade was loud, in your face, Logan seemed to be the quiet lurker type. He’d hide in the shadows, making himself known when he felt threatened. You walked up to your front door, unlocking the door and Wade helped himself inside. You rolled your eyes and turned to Logan, who lingered on your doorstep.

“If you want to come in, you’re more than welcome. At least one of you has manners,” you called towards where Wade stood in your kitchen and cackled. Logan nodded, muttering a ‘Thank you’ as he walked inside, his shoulder brushing against yours gently. You shut the door behind you and Wade opened your fridge.

“Aww, pookie, you kept my drawing!” There was a hint of an unfamiliar emotion in his voice… something, something new. You couldn’t place it, yet you smiled anyways.

“Of course I did, Wade.” Now that you were in the safety of your house, Wade’s mask had been discarded on your kitchen counter and you could see the smile on his face. “Get out of my fridge, you leech.“

“I’m starving,” Wade whined and you turned to look at Logan. He stood a little awkwardly, and you gestured to the couch, taking a seat and smiling when he followed suit. He sat on the cushion furthest from you, but you didn’t question it.

Logan couldn’t help but study you. There was an obvious familiarity between you and Wade, you matching his wit and comebacks, but you were different when you spoke to him. You were quieter, more reigned in. Strangely not out of fear, but as if you were trying to make him comfortable. You switched between Wade and Logan like it was second nature, and the more he talked to you and the more he watched you and Wade, he felt himself begin to relax just a little.

He didn’t realize how much time had passed until Wade, ever the charmer, let out a dramatic yawn, throwing his hands up in the air as he stretched. “Well, cupcake. I think it’s about time we head home. Old man is already up way past his bedtime.” Wade yelped as he jumped back, barely missing the claws that protruded from Logan’s hand, and he stuck his tongue out at him. “Grumpy grandpa.”

You stood and Logan followed suit. Wade kissed your cheek before saying goodbye and stepping outside, leaving you and Logan alone.

“I hope I’ll see you again, Logan.” Your voice was gentle, your smile even more so, and Logan nodded.

“I’ll be around. Don’t think I have much of a choice with that one.” There was a sliver of fondness mixed with the exasperation in his voice, and Logan started to walk outside. “Goodnight, bub.” Logan closed the door behind him, lingering until he heard your locks click shut. He caught up with Wade a moment later and Wade gave him the biggest shit eating grin ever.

“Is someone melting the big bad wolf’s heart?” The metallic clang followed by Wade’s pained grunt made Logan laugh, and Wade shoved his shoulder.

“Wait until she sees what an asshole you are. Then she’ll realize I’m the better half of this friendship.” The two men continued to bicker the entire way home, both of them thinking about when they’d get to see you next.

[anxi04]

Tim meeting Lex at a gala when he’s young. and becoming gossip besties with him

i finally wrote it after it infesting my brain enjoy

——————-

Tim thought the gala was going to be like most of the others, boring, annoying, nothing happening. And then he saw Lex Luthor. And he's a smart man, probably the only other smart person in here so why not start a conversation?

Lex thought this gala was going to be boring and a waste of time. And then this small child comes up to him talking about gossip that he didn't even know? And mentioning his incredibly secret cloning project he just started a week ago? He's going to be a villain and Lex wants to be on his good side.

————————

Tim sighed, annoyed. Gala's have always been incredibly boring, the only slightly fun things that happen at them have been either Bruce Wayne "tripping" over something and drenching someone else with whatever drink or liquid is near, or overhearing gossip, such as Robert Dewitt cheating on his wife with his brother. That was a fun day.

This gala is looking to be about the same as always, just even more boring. Bruce Wayne isn't attending (understandable, The Joker just broke out of Arkham again. He's sure there's a cover story for why Bruce isn't here but he doesn't care about that), no one is drawing attention to any scandals yet, or at least not in his ear range.

The only vaguely interesting thing here is Lex Luthor actually attending it for once. The man usually never spares a moment for anything aside from Metropolis (disgusting) and Superman. So there's at least one other smart person here but he also happens to be a super-villain (not that the general public knows) so… Not like Tim can just walk up to him and talk right?

"So as I was saying it really is quite unfortunate that your son won't take the company, I always thought he was a rather charming young man-" Fuck it Tim's gonna go talk to the super-villain.

"Have you heard about Rebecca Strawling?" Tim asks Lex, who absolutely did NOT jump at this child sneaking up behind him (seriously how did he do that? Even Superman, a man who constantly floats, can't sneak up on him.). Lex blinks for a second because, yes he had and holy shit what a thing that is, and also how does this child know? Also why is this child talking to him?

"That… Depends. What have you heard?" Lex says hesitantly. Despite Rebecca's… everything, she still hid it incredibly well. If Lex wasn't so bored at these gala's he would never have known, so either this child is just incredibly nosy, or possibly an actual smart person in this room. Either option would prove far more interesting than what he had been doing.

"Well I've heard about the several affairs she's had with everyone she claims to hate. Business rivals, the poor, queer people, her husband's family, and if it's to be believed her own family." And… Holy fuck, Lex had not been aware of that last bit. He raises an eyebrow at the ending which prompts a slight grin from the child as he takes his phone out. "I have evidence."

Does Lex actually… Enjoy being near a kid barely in the double digits? Absurd.

"You know Tim, that man over there? He's almost bankrupting his company and family by sending their money to a 'client.' I believe all his business partners are looking for someone to replace his spot." It's been an hour and a half. This is the most entertained Lex has been at one of these in decades. If Tim finds himself following the black hair, blue eyes orphan trend Lex will take him in himself so help him God. He's insanely smart, not only is he excellent at reading people and finding dirt on them easily, he's incredibly skilled at hacking without any proper training on it. This is a villain in the making and Lex will not let himself fall on his bad side.

"Now, I have a moral question for you Tim. What do you think the ethics on making a weapon out of a clone would be?" He's been toying with the idea of cloning Superman lately, however the actual… Making it a weapon has been bothering him. If it comes out an adult man it could easily decide it wants to do something else and rebel, however what would the effects be on making a child weapon that was created for that sole purpose? The effectiveness of it?

"Easy. Don't make the clone a weapon. It's either an adult clone who could choose to be a soldier, and actually listen to you, or decide it won't listen and possibly end up exposing you. If it's a child clone then sure you get a weapon for a few years but not having a choice would end up making them resent you. Give them a choice on it, just like the Sidekicks, like Robin, Kid Flash, Speedy, all them. I'd assume you would want a meta clone anyway and most meta's feel a sense of duty with their abilities so it'd be likely for them to decide something along what you want. Just a matter on if they like you and go with you, or turn to the other side." Tim answers without missing a beat and wow what a concerning sentence that would be to hear from a child if he were anyone else. As it is he's delighted by the response.

"Although cloning a Kryptonian would probably alter it, simply wouldn't get enough material so you would likely have to substitute some of the material for human and at that point use your own and raise the clone as a child." What. That's far too specific. "Oh, sorry I probably should've kept it more broad. Anyway you should update your security systems." Definitely a super-villain in the making. One that he very much wants to be on the good side of. On that note now he needs to update his whole system.

"Ah, Tim I'm glad you picked up. I'm a father now! I'd like you to meet my son, his name is Kon-El-"

"Oh, I've already met him. You actually interrupted our call. Kinda late on telling me." Of course.

"You know I could adopt you as well, get you from that bumbling buffoon that is Wayne."

"Yeah but then my crush would become incestuous." His what? Know what he can work with this. Tim is joining his family one way or another.

Finally. A moment of peace for Lex to sit down, drink some coffee, and watch a rerun of his favorite show. "Luthor!" Oh great, the boy scout here to ruin his plans. Oh and is that his group for comic-con? There's the man of steel himself, Wonder Woman, Batman and… Wait. Oh this will piss Kal-El off to be ignored.

"Timothy! I was just about to call you. You remember Robert Dewitt, correct? You'll never guess what he's done now." Lex grins, standing up. He was meaning to update Tim on this particular… Creature. He's one of their favorites to catch up on, purely because of the absurdity of his debauchery. Although this time does have a reason, after all there's reason for dear old Robert to get locked up this time and he's been making some comments about Lex lately and well he can't just let that slide now can he?

Tim blinks for a second then realizes what Lex just said. "Wait you know? Of course you do why wouldn't you.. Actually wait that doesn't matter what the fuck did Robert do? Last I knew he wasn't allowed outside without an escort so I was expecting longer." Lex has a feeling it does in fact matter very much if the way Batman's eyes narrow and his jaw clench indicate anything. Lex needs to continue on or possibly get put in a hospital.

"Oh he's no longer allowed near animal shelters, so-" Kal-El cuts him off, incredibly rudely if he might add.

"What… What is going on here?" Poor man sounds so confused. Lex is savoring this moment.

"Well I know Timothy Drake is Red Robin. Clearly. Red Robin is the hero closest to becoming a villain which fits Tim quite well, and also Tim is the only Gothamite smart enough to be Red Robin. And infuriating enough to personally annoy Ra's al-Ghul on a regular." It's very simple honestly. Lex has no idea what's making this so complicated. "If it helps make you all feel 'safe' and 'secure' I could tell you about the time Timothy told me he had a crush on Kon-" And now Tim's thrown something at him. What is this, interrupt Lex day?

"Shut up! What if I told them about you and Clark Kent?" Ahh, expose his crush, get his own crush exposed. Well unfortunately Lex has no shame about that.

"You mean the man who could lift a 200 lb person with no effort? One of the very few good reporters?" Odd that Kal-El's face is getting red and confused but oh well. "Honestly though, who cares. You know Tim my offer for adopting you still stands. I know it must be absurdly easy to hide being Red Robin from your… family. However I think I could be of more assistance still." Batman's hands are clenching now. Interesting. "I mean you made a fake uncle to get out of being adopted by the oaf, I don't know why you didn't just let me." Ah, Batman's hands are unclenched. He must have thought that uncle was also real. Surprising, really, from 'The World's Greatest Detective' however they clearly have the wrong bat. "And does he even know about your missing spleen? Really, I should get him locked up for child neglect. Even I would notice if anything happened to Kon-El."

Tim's eyes widen at that and snap to Batman's equally wide eyes. They both jump into a sprint, Tim leaping out of a window with the Bat close behind. "Oh, did he not know? Oops."

Perfect. Hopefully that'll have been absurd enough that the Justice League leave him alone, and he can watch his show in peace.

[niniwritesxo]

bailed on me

- this is the first fiction i’ve ever written, english is not my first language so please keep that in mind when reading this story :)

no warnings!!

description:

just some angst between you and jj 🙏

——————————————————————————

The sun had barely set over the Outer Banks, the sky a dull red and gold, but to you, the world felt dark. You sat on the back porch of the chateau, your legs drawn up to your chest as you stared out at the water, the familiar view of the island doing nothing to calm you.

It had started with something small. Or at least, that’s how it had seemed at first. A missed text here, a lie there, a canceled plan when you needed him most. JJ had always been impulsive, always a little reckless, but lately, it felt like he was slipping away in ways that couldn’t be ignored anymore.

Your phone buzzed on the table beside you, a message from JJ.

“Can we talk?”

You sighed, your fingers curling into fists. You already knew what this conversation would be. It was the same thing they always did—argue, fight, and then act like nothing ever happened. Only this time, something in you had shifted. You were tired of pretending everything was okay when it wasn’t.

A moment later, You heard his footsteps on the gravel. The sound of his boots crunching underfoot was enough to make your stomach tighten. You didn’t turn around, but you didn’t have to. JJ was standing behind you, watching you, waiting for you to speak first.

"Do you even realize how much you're pulling away from me?" you asked, your voice steady but laced with the hurt you were trying not to show.

JJ hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "What do you mean?"

You stood up abruptly, turning to face him. "You’ve been ignoring me, JJ. And it’s not just that. It’s the lies. The stupid little things that add up until I don’t even know who you are anymore."

JJ’s face fell, guilt flashing across his features, but he didn’t say anything right away. You pressed on, your anger rising as you tried to put everything you had been feeling into words.

"When you said you were going to help me with the party last weekend… and then you bailed to hang out with John B instead? Do you think I didn't notice that? And when I needed you after my dad called—after all that shit with him—and you just disappeared?" You let out a bitter laugh. "You’re always there for everyone else, JJ, but not for me. And I don’t get it. I don’t get why."

JJ’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he might argue. But instead, he took a deep breath and looked down, avoiding her gaze.

"Y/N, you don’t get it," he muttered. "I’m trying. I’m trying so damn hard, but I—I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to be what you need me to be."

"That’s just it!" You snapped. "I never asked you to be something you’re not. I just… I just wanted you to show up. To be there, for once. You keep running away every time things get hard, and I’m so tired of it."

JJ’s heart pounded in his chest, and the words felt like knives in his stomach. He had never meant to hurt you. But he had. He knew he had. And he hated himself for it.

"You think I want to pull away from you? That I want to push you out of my life? You don’t know how hard it is for me to be around you sometimes." He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration bubbling over. "I’m scared, Y/N. I’m scared of messing things up. Of getting too close and losing it all. I don’t know how to be perfect for you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care."

Your eyes softened slightly, but the hurt was still there. "I never needed you to be perfect. I just needed you to stay. Just once, to not pull away when things got tough."

There was a long silence between them, and JJ felt like his chest was caving in. He wanted to reach for you, to pull you into his arms, but he was scared that doing so would only make everything worse. He had always been afraid of losing you, but it felt like the damage was already done.

"Why do you push me away like this?" you whispered, your voice cracking. "I can’t keep doing this with you, JJ. I can’t keep pretending that everything’s okay when I know you’re just… waiting for the next thing to go wrong. Waiting for it to fall apart."

JJ closed his eyes, the words you spoke echoing in his head like a warning. He hated that you were right. He had been waiting for it to fall apart—because every time something good came into his life, he expected it to slip through his fingers. His father had been that way, his whole life had been that way. But you didn’t deserve to be caught in that cycle.

"Y/N, I’m sorry," he said, the words coming out strained. "I just don’t know how to be what you want me to be. I don’t know how to make it right, but I swear I’m trying."

Your heart twisted at the sincerity in his voice, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal. Not this time. Not after everything.

"You can’t keep trying forever, JJ. Sometimes, trying isn’t enough. I need you to show up. To show me that you care. But right now, I just don’t think you do."

You turned away then, the finality in your steps making his stomach drop. You didn’t wait for him to say anything else. You didn’t need to. The truth was in the silence.

JJ stood there, the weight of everything pressing down on him, and for the first time in a long time, he wondered if he’d ever be able to fix this. To fix them.

[afsalovescats]

Omg could I request a yandere gojo who’s also our next door neighbor? Maybe they met by the reader being conveniently helpful, not thinking much of it? But also assuming reader has a petty sense of humor, and doesn’t get half of his social cues suggesting his interest for other than him gluing to her whenever possible.

omg a reader whos dense? guys this is litteraly me, i love this concept smmm

Warning : yandere type shit, also reader is a smoker (vaugely and barely mentiond)

Omg yall i wanna make another part, lmk if yall want one too, lowkey wanna make a series building up to his obsession in ur pov....i might.

Btw if u havent noticed i am actually so big brain, i am storming ideas fast. Keep sending in reqs!!

You never thought that living next to someone like Satoru Gojo would be anything out of the ordinary. He was charming, a bit of a flirt, and definitely the life of anybody in the gloomy neighborhood. But you quickly learned that there was more to him than met the eye.

It all started one lazy afternoon when you noticed him struggling to carry in a mountain of grocery bags. He was balancing them awkwardly, he looked strong with muscles and everything, he just wasn't balacing them right at all. It was so obvious too. And it looked like he might drop everything at any moment if you didnt rush over. You couldn’t help but step outside from the lobby of your dingy apartment complex, your curiosity perked and wanting to converse in small talk due to boredom. “Need a hand, or are you trying out for a circus act?” you joked, a playful smirk on your face.

He looked up, his signature grin lighting up his features. “Circus? Nah, but I could use your help to make these bags disappear,” he replied, flashing that mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “What’s the point of having a neighbor if they won’t help you out?” he retorted playfully as his gaze on you never wavers.

You let out a sarcastic laugh, rolling your eyes, and before you knew it, you were taking a few bags from him, both of you heading to his front door, but not before going to the main lobby to go to the elevator. He was your neighbor too so obviously why wouldn't you help? Being a good neighbor was the least you could provide as service!

As you chatted, his conversation flowed easily, he seemed to be interested in anything you were saying, and occasionaly asked questions that may have come across as personal. But honestly you didnt seem to notice the questions. Neither did you notice the glances directed your way and his gaze lingering on you for far too long, the way his smile always slightly rised whenever you accidently brushed against him. Due to the elevator space and the amount of grocerries in hand.

Days turned into weeks, and you found yourself running into Gojo more often. He was always “conveniently” around when you were outside for a smoke since smoking wasn't permitted inside the complex or apartments. While you thought he was just friendly, there was a deeper undercurrent to his attention that you were blissfully unaware of. Very blissfully unaware of, thankfully.

One evening, you decided to play a small prank on him, no harm. He'd just been annoying lately. You slipped a sticky note on a small carton of milk planted right near his door, claiming that he’d won an award for “Most Annoying Neighbor.” The corners of your mouth slightly raised, a harmless joke, as you walked away to go to work, curious as to what his reaction will be later.

The next few hours later when you were lounging on your couch, watching a show mindlessly in the dark, you heard a few knocks on the door, confused, you hesitantly try to peek out the window, near the door but instead you see a figure wearing all black. You then sigh as you check the peephole and see him. Standing out there at night as he leans on one leg with a hand on his hip.

He's now appeared at your door, the note in hand and an amused yet intense look in his eyes. “You think this is funny?” he said, stepping just a bit too close. “Maybe I should write you a letter too. How about ‘Most Unappreciative Neighbor’?” he replies back as he continues staring at down at you, litteraly since he was tall.

Your laughter faltered slightly, but you brushed it off, thinking he was just joking. “Come on, it’s a joke. Besides, you’re too much of a show-off to be offended. You should appreciate you even got an award." unaware to you, the way your wordered it, as the corners of your mouth raised, actually set something off in him.

His smile faltered for just a moment, a flicker of something darker crossing his features. “Oh, I’m not offended. Just… disappointed.” He leaned closer, slightly crouching his shoulders to lean down as his shoulders slump as one hand is on the side of the outline of the door, half in half out so it prevents you from shutting it. His breath warm against your ear in the cold chilly night.

“You should know better than to mess with someone who cares about you.” He replies blanky, as his whole facade drops and he simply stares at you. No expression, no charming smile, no teasing, nothing, his pretty blue orbs just blank.

You blinked, caught off guard by his whole demeanor. “Care about me?” you reply raising an eyebrow then you burst out laughing as you slightly cover your mouth, not trying to be mean but this was actually amusing.

He tilted his head, and the glint in his eye made you shiver, but you brushed it aside with a smile, thinking you had misread his expression. “You’re more than that to me,” he said, the seriousness of his tone finally making you feel a bit uneasy. "So much more." He finishes but you simply continue smiling, trying to be friendly in this situation. Before you could respond, he added, “But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.”

Now his smile came back as he stops leaning down slightly and instead stand up straight as his eyes atleast aren't blank anymore.

You laughed nervously, backing up a step. “Yeah, sure, just don’t get too attached.” You say as yet once again you are so unaware of Satoru's genuine feelings.

But Satoru didn’t respond with laughter. Instead, he stepped forward, closing the distance. “Oh, I’m already attached. You don’t get to walk away from this.”

"...Of course you are! I'm just so great!"

You dont know if you said anything wrong because now he hasnt replied and your standing there awkwardly as his arm is still against the edge of the door frame.

"Goodnight Satoru." you begin to break down the awkward silence between you two.

After a few blinks he smiles, but it dosent meet his eyes. Instead he ruffles your head then he says "You should really get those locks checked out, or get more. Its dangerous." he replies as his smile is still there but its more chilling.

You hum as you dismiss him with a wave and shut the door. Something tells you to wait it out, just in case, and you trust your intution. You wait for a little waiting til he leaves as you stand on the other side of the door. He didnt leave right away as he stares at the spot where you just were, where now his eyes meet the door.

Then just like that he walks away. Weirdo.

Another time you invited him over to your house since you date decided to ditch you for no reason! So weird! Satoru luckily found you after you ended the call and offered to cheer you up. So currently you both are watching a movie at your place in silence, he was hesitant to invite you, you didnt know why but you didn't bother asking to not be rude.

"I just wish...you know we were talking for a while and like...I thought things were going well!" you sigh yet exclaim at the same time. Still upset since you thought for once you could pull someone. You can't.

"He sounds like an asshole." Satoru says without a second thought.

You let out a groan mixed with a whine, Satoru glances at you as you then shrink to the couch as whine again annoyed.

"I wish he was like, obsessed or something! I want a guy to be like that! So that he'll never leave me or cheat! is that too much to ask for?" You ask yourself as you put popcorn in your mouth.

Apparently not, since what you wanted was right next to you, without your knowledge.

"Clingy? You into that?" he asks tilting his head as he eyes you- has this man even looked away once? You actually notice and wonder.

You hum in response as for the next few minutes you eat popcorn and the movie's audio plays into the background.

“Clingy?” he repeated again, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Oh, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that. I’ll be right here, always, for you.” He winks, but something tells you hes not joking.

The days passed, and while you continued your innocent banter and petty pranks and sarcastic yet teasing words, Satoru's intensity deepened. He started showing up unexpectedly, always ready to lend a hand or share a laugh. You thought it was endearing, never realizing that he was weaving himself deeper into your life—too deep for your own good. You didn't mind, you never knew why, it was slightly weird but you really couldn't care.

One evening, you found him standing outside your door, arms crossed, a look of mock irritation on his face. “You’re not just going to ignore my last prank, are you?”

You raised an eyebrow, teasing. “What prank? I thought you just liked leaving me little gifts?”

He stepped closer, invading your personal space. “I do like leaving you gifts… but only if you remember who they’re from.”

You felt a teeny shiver run down your spine, but your playful nature pushed you to respond. “Oh, you mean like a restraining order? Because I’m pretty sure I’m going to need one." You retort back.

His laughter was rich and dangerous, and he leaned closer, whispering, “You really have no idea how much I care, do you? You’re not going anywhere, and neither am I. So, how about we skip the jokes and just enjoy each other’s company?” He says with a lazy smirk gracing his soft lips.

You actually freze, suddenly aware of just how serious he was. But before you could respond, he flashed that charming smile, and all your doubts faded into the background. After all, he was just your neighbor, right? A very huge fucking flirt too.

As you watched him walk away, the hint of something dark lingered in the air. You chuckled to yourself, dismissing the warning signs. “What a weirdo,” you muttered, still blissfully unaware of how deeply tangled you were in his affections.

But little did you know, in Gojo’s eyes, you were already his—forever.

[nana-au]

𝐈 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄...

 𝜗𝜚 Satoru Gojo Prince AU ♡ part four

 𝜗𝜚 Summary: satoru has an announcement to make to the royal court. you don't think you could've ever prepare yourself for what it could be. the two of you see each other after months of no contact and the result is bitter sweet. story summary based off of this drabble

𝜗𝜚 Warnings: forbidden love, unspoken feelings, heavy angst, intense emotions, suggestive flirting, heated make out, cussing, depression symptoms, misguided anger, jealousy.

 𝜗𝜚 wc: 4,323

𝜗𝜚 an: there is a surprise guest from the jjk cast being introduced.. heh. dw he is just for the story and holds no interest in reader.

┊p1┊p2┊p3┊p4┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p5┊

“How do you like kitchen duty, my dear?” the Queen asks, the royal blue wallpaper of her study behind her head seems to shift like the ocean waves; rising and falling - dancing in the reflection of your pupils as your tea is poured for you. With a wave of her hand the Queen’s servant is dismissed and it’s just the two of you alone. The silence is unsettling as much as it is intoxicating. The kitchen is noisy - pots and pans clanging together, the repeated motion of knife hitting cutting board, and the bubbling sounds of a roiling boil. But then there is your room at night; the bed you climb into is decently soft and the covers keep you warm enough but you’re missing the noise of Satoru’s words. Before everything changed you would lay awake and replay every conversation with the Prince; your heart would pound remembering every brush of his hand or intense gaze he didn’t bother to hide. Instead now even your own thoughts have quieted, leaving your night void of any stimulation. 

“It’s been pleasant,” you respond, blowing on the hot tea you’ve brought to your lips. You don’t try very hard to sound convincing but if the Queen notices she doesn’t comment on it. 

“I’ve heard you have been getting pretty close to one of the men in the kitchen,” she wiggles her eyebrows, like you’re her girl friend and she’s genuinely interested in your potential love life. You’re not entirely sure where she got such information from; but it’s been clear to you for a while now. She has eyes and ears everywhere. 

“Forgive me, I’m not quite sure who you are referring to,” the tea is hot as you sip it, burning the taste buds you’ve barely been using these days. 

“Well, Nanami, of course,” she takes a moment to sip her own tea. “He’s handsome… quite burly too for working in a kitchen,” she’s smirking describing the man like it's the most entertaining gossip in the whole world. You guess it's not the worst thing she could potentially hear about you. All though, the worst had already been said. 

“He’s knowledgeable,” you tell her, stoic and devoid of any real emotion, “I enjoy learning what I can from him,” it’s a boring answer but your life is boring now. She frowns, almost a little disappointed that you won’t bite and indulge in ‘boy talk’ with her, but she continues on anyway. 

“That’s how your parents met, you know,” another long sip of her tea, “your father used to volunteer in the kitchens just to see your mother,” she’s obnoxiously giddy again and you can’t fight the sour taste of disgust. It feels more like she’s describing a silly little romance novel and not real people’s lives. It’s almost amusing knowing that as soon as your ‘silly little romance’ got too close to her son it was no longer exciting to her. You kept silent - having nothing worth commenting aloud as you waited for her to get to her point. She didn’t invite you here to gossip, your life had hardly been entertaining since 3 months ago when you were banished from Satoru’s presence. Her lips purse for a moment before she talks, “Well that’s not why I invited you here anyways,”

No shit. 

“I wanted to say thank you. I’m sure you’ve heard of our upcoming event in which Satoru will announce who he is courting,” you could have choked on air if you were not incredibly aware of yourself around the Queen. Instead you sucked in a quick breath. You had obviously been preparing for the event seeing as it was tomorrow and everyone in the kitchens scrambled around to get everything set for it - but you missed the part where it involved Satoru and his new potential partner. “I was incredibly worried for the future of our kingdom, and I appreciate your diligent work in securing that,” her words danced around the true meaning - but you weren’t a dunce. She was thanking you for hurting Satoru - and yourself in the process. A truly noble sacrifice indeed. You had to fight the desire to strangle yourself in front of her.  

“Of course,” is all you muster, not bothering to put on a brave face. 

“Remember the blonde Princess I talked about all those years ago?” she says, observing her pristine nails, “I knew Satoru would warm up to her if he tried,” your tea was gone by the end of her sentence and you lacked the stimulation now required for this conversation; your uneasiness eating away at your insides. 

“I’ve heard she’s lovely,” your throat is dry despite downing an entire cup of tea. 

“Oh more than lovely, if you could even imagine. I’ve never seen Satoru more at peace than when he’s listening to her playing piano. She’s quite the pianist!” 

𝜗𝜚

Satoru did indeed enjoy the times she played for him. The melody left no room for chatter. It was the only moment the two of them were together that he could close his eyes and rest; shutting down after hours of struggling to be present. He didn’t need to pretend to listen to how her day went or care about her childhood. He didn’t need to make up details about his day or share stories of his own youth that he struggled to edit you out of. He could just be. And that’s how Satoru preferred it. 

You would never know about it because ‘how could you?’ - but Satoru was a new man. Gone were the days of acting out or scoffing at his lessons. Gone were the days he preferred fencing to etiquette lessons. He now spent his time indoors because that’s where his bed was closest. His new favorite activity was painting. It was quiet and kept his mind occupied. He enjoyed painting with the new Princess the most - she would play while he would paint and as her hands created beautiful melodies Satoru’s created melancholy works of art

She peers a glance at his canvas over the piano, eyebrows furrowing as she notices the brooding blues, “You do realize this song is meant to elicit joy?” she inquires playfully, and Satoru apologizes. 

“Forgive me, I don’t have much experience with music theory,” his brush dips into the blue oil paint before dabbing it onto the course fabric. 

“Blue seems to be your favorite color,” she comments, her hands walking over each other as the keys come alive from her touch. 

Satoru nods, “I do enjoy reds too. Deep reds,” he murmurs. 

The color of his bleeding heart. 

𝜗𝜚

When the King and Queen announce a new ball, Satoru already understands the reason without being told. He had to fix his blunder - the one where he abandoned his duties and prioritized the pleasure your presence gave him. He hadn’t seen you since that day - but he was sure your face would bring him anything but pleasure nowadays. He was agreeing to the expectations of this new event without listening. It didn’t matter to him anyways. His life wasn’t his - this was a fact he could no longer be gullible about. 

That’s why he stood there in the center of the ballroom, fingers interlaced with the Princess as he smiled down at her like she meant something to him. Because his life wasn’t his and there were worse women in the world to be arranged to. The Princess really wasn’t all that bad. She was intelligent, respectful, charitable and incredibly humble. She knew there was more to life than her appearance all while being a sight for sore eyes. Satoru couldn’t have expected anyone more perfect for the role of his wife. With his heart now out of the picture - there was no better option than her. He could see that clearly now.

She nuzzled her head against his shoulder, hiding her blush as Satoru talked about the first day they met to an inquiring older man and that is when you finally see the two of them together. Surprisingly, you’re allowed out of your metaphorical cage - the King and Queen now fully entrusting you in the same room as Satoru after you successfully stomped out his light. You’re with the kitchen boy, Nanami, who was the Queen’s new show pony she liked to trot around; insisting he was there to describe the new hors d'oeuvre he created himself. Neither of you were entirely convinced the Queen thought that highly of the dish - rather than the idea of having such an esteemed cook now residing in her royal kitchen. Your jaw drops seeing the two of them next to each other. You had only seen paintings of the Princess, and even those did not prepare you for the intensity of her eyes and the silkiness of her hair. You were right all those years ago; next to Satoru wearing his family’s signature blue - she fit perfectly. 

And Satoru. Your Satoru. He looked so sorrowfully beautiful. His jaw was sharper and his eyes were darker but he was still Satoru and that fact alone made it impossible to look away. You had no right - but your watery eyes threatened to spill over watching the Prince hold hands with the Princess. A pitiful feeling fell over you once you realized you couldn’t read his expression. There had never been a day that you couldn’t skim his face like the pages of a book and pinpoint exactly what he was thinking - but now being in the same room with him after so long - you realized you were no longer privy to his thoughts like you used to be. Perhaps that ability was now reserved for the woman who held his hand. If it wasn’t so devastating you might have considered thanking the Queen for what she made you do. You had to have looked so silly beside him seeing the Princess in front of you now - appearing to be a piece of the same puzzle by his side. 

“Are you doing okay?” a deep voice prods your ear and you turn to see Nanami, standing by your side with a look of worry. The Queen wasn’t entirely wrong when she spoke of rumors that the two of you were close - you were in a lot of ways. Just not in the way she found most interesting. Nanami taught you a lot of skills in the kitchen. He showed you the best ways to cut vegetables and the importance of never looking away from milk boiling on a stove top. He told you stories of his travels in search of the best ingredients and his experience being raised on the country-side of a faraway nation whose people were dying of hunger. How his life as a child shaped him into who he was to this day: a seasoned cook who the highest of society paid a pretty penny to grace their kitchens. For some time you spared him the details of your life and he took it well - waiting for the moment you decided he was someone you could trust - and once you did it seemed to flow out of you and never stop. He knew all about your childhood with Satoru and how things became the way they are now. He didn’t scoff at you for daring to imagine yourself next to a Prince or gawk at the audacity it must take to delude yourself into believing your life could possibly be different than those before you. He just listened while he prepared a snack for the two of you. It was cathartic being around someone who carried as much baggage as you. The two of you were stronger than ever by each other’s side, and that is why you stood with him while he talked to the snobs he couldn’t stand and he stood with you while you watched the Prince make his love interest known to everyone. “Go take a moment for yourself, I’ll cover for you,” he offered and you shook your head.

“I promised I wouldn’t leave you alone with these assholes,” you say, earning a chuckle from the blond man next to you. You look up at him and all though he’s laughing his eyes don’t contain humor - more concerned for you while witnessing the same display you had to. He knew it couldn’t be easy.

He leaned in once more, “Well if you change your mind, I won’t be mad,” you smile at him, grateful that you weren’t entirely alone in your new reality. 

𝜗𝜚

Just like the two of you could see the royal couple they could see you too - if they knew what to look for. You caught the Prince’s eye while he took a sip of his champagne, using it as a moment to take in the scene around him until he spotted you. He didn’t know what to expect when he first considered the possibility of running into you again; you two inhabited the same estate and though it was big you had your whole lives to bump into each other. Originally he thought his anger would get the better of him once he finally laid eyes on you. Or he considered that given enough time had passed, looking into your eyes wouldn’t elicit any kind of emotion in him - completely indifferent to your role in his life, like all other servants. What he didn’t expect was for his heart to fail him, the once slow pace now jump started with adrenaline. His heart rate was wild and his pupils dilated. The bubbly drink that usually burned on the way down had effortlessly passed his throat and entered his stomach that grew weak with just one look at you. If he wasn’t careful the Princess beside him would take note of how he completely removed himself from their conversation - but careful he could not be. He wanted to curse his cheeks for warming up at the mere thought of breathing the same air as you… how could he be present? Satoru wouldn’t have even noticed the man standing next to you if not for the way his tall form towered over you, blocking you from the Prince’s view. That’s when Satoru began to grow just a little more aware of his surroundings - or more so your surroundings. While he repeated the words you said to him that day like it was a prayer he couldn’t help but retell before bed - lest he forget - he still fought the logical side of him begging him to accept your words as fact. But he couldn’t because he couldn’t accept your own interpretation of your feelings while you shook and sniffled in the stables. He believed you wanted nothing more to do with him - but he thought the pressure of fighting for your rightful place in his life was one you could no longer stomach. That was what caused him the pain he felt each passing moment. That you lost your fight because Satoru wasn’t worth it. But how could he believe you lost your fight when you had no one in your life pressuring you to move on like he did - yet there you stood seemingly cozy next to the tall man beside you. Perhaps the thought of you giving up on Satoru hurt his heart less and that was why he settled on that thought, instead of the earth-shattering possibility that you could have actually wanted nothing to do with him.

So why would you have kissed him?

𝜗𝜚

It was a quiet afternoon when the two of you decided to stroll through the garden’s after Satoru’s tea break. You often found it beneficial to have Satoru spend time outside inbetween his lessons - he would have a new found focus when given the chance to allow his mind to wander in the cool air that the spring time offered. His fingers would busy themselves with the petals of a flower and you would walk in silence beside him, listening to him ramble or letting him bask in the tranquility nature offered. 

That day was one of those times Satoru pondered silently and you let him, enjoying the unique flowers the Gojo’s had planted from all across the globe while you walked by his side. His face was scrunched in thought and his hands were busy with the stem of a lily, using his thumbs to pry the plant open to feel around its sticky insides. You two were deep in your walk, the garden trail extending surprisingly far on the Gojo’s lawn. The estate was now hidden by the yards of thick bushes that separated the trail from other parts of their extensive property. Satoru let out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding, and you turned to look at him. 

He seemed anxious, the tips of his ears were deep red and his face was scrunched with worry. “Did you get a sunburn, Satoru?” you ask him, stopping him in his tracks to get a better look at his ears. They were hot to the touch as you inspected them but he was antsy rather than in pain from the grip you had on his cartilage.

“What do you think about kissing?” he asked, his cheeks turning as red as his ears. You giggle at him, not because it was random - no that was normal for Satoru - but the topic was a bit suspicious.

“Why do you ask?” you all but flirt - finding the confidence to since you had the upper hand.

“I don’t know… it just kept coming up in the book I’ve been reading,” he puts simply, trying to end the conversation he brought up. It was rare for Satoru to embarrass himself like such, and it was going to be hard for him to get you to ignore it. 

“You've been thinking a lot about kissing, haven't you?” you continue to tease, and he scratches the back of his neck. 

“No!” he scoffs, “Just.. nevermind,” the flower he was dissecting was discarded for a new one - his fingers plucking the petals before tearing into the ovule roughly. 

“I don’t know what I think about kissing, I’ve never kissed,” you answer his original question, engaging him back into the conversation. 

“Me neither,” he responded, defiling the poor flower a little less since you had his attention. ‘What do you think it’s like?” It’s your turn to blush and he definitely realizes his newfound control over the conversation - turning the tables on you as he begins to poke you about it. “It’s probably wet, right? Well if you used tongue,” you’re a blushing mess listening to your best friend describe something such as tongue-kissing and he’s smiling at you. His pearly white teeth sparkle under the sun while he continues his torture, “I’d imagine it’s warm too - and soft. Your lips look soft,” he comments and you could feel yourself struggling to hold back your bashful reaction. He knew how to work you up just like you knew how to work him up. Unfortunately he was a little bit better at it than you - or you were just more susceptible under his gaze. He comes in closer to you - you think just to tease you further and get your heart to racket against your chest and you’re not entirely wrong. It’s hard to focus when his broad shoulders contrast yours and when you feel the palm of his hand touch your sternum to feel the pounding of your heart - you can’t fathom how you’re still standing on your own. “Your heart rate is fast,” he comments, pretending he has no concept as to why that could be. 

“You flirt too much, Satoru,” you grumble at him, trying and failing to steady your heart beats with him so close. His breath smells sweet like the candies he eats and you can’t protect your nose from the pleasant musk that clings to his skin. 

“I’m not flirting. I’m just asking you a question,” he’s somehow closer and his hand won’t leave the spot between your breasts. 

“Yeah. Kissing is probably warm and wet and whatever else you said,” you mumble, desperate to crawl away from him while simultaneously scared of losing physical contact with him. 

“Maybe we should test our hypothesis,” he’s still smiling but his eyes don’t match; half lidded while he observes the twitch of your lips at his words. You gulp, unable to keep yourself from looking at his own pair of lips. You note that they look soft too, even when he bites at them upon noticing you’re doing the same as him. “It can just be a quick one,” he says, almost like he’s trying to convince you now like he’s already convinced himself years ago. Unbeknownst to him you needed very little convincing. 

“Just a quick one,” you all but breathe out, and the two of you are leaning in without realizing it until your lips meet. Your lips feel plump against his, soft like the pillow he lays his head on at night and he doesn’t want it to end. His hand meets your jaw, holding you still while his lips get used to the feeling of yours against them. Your hands come up to grip his shirt, bracing yourself while he slowly deepens it, testing the waters by slowly poking his tongue inside your mouth. You pull back, yelping at the unexpected intrusion. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks, voice sultry and deep and you nod at him, going back in for more. He starts slowly again, pecking your lips softly before working his way up to prodding his tongue cautiously against your sweet lips. You let him in and he all but groans, gripping your waist with his other hands so he can feel you pressed up against him. You both have no idea what you’re doing, teeth and tongues hesitantly clashing as you explore each other’s mouths. His pulse quickens when you let out a weak moan muffled by his mouth hot against yours. His hand on your jaw slowly works its way down your neck, across your collarbone, before hesitantly stopping at the start of your breast. You’re both clouded by the haze created between the two of you, unaware of your surroundings until you hear the scurry of an animal. You both pull away - scanning the area with no luck of finding the creature that caused it. You clear your throat and try your best to pull yourself together - but it’s hard when his eyes are so dark and his lips are so red and glossy from your spit.

“Let’s get back, Satoru. Your teacher will be expecting you soon,” and off you go, with Satoru trailing behind you.

𝜗𝜚

Satoru had never felt the foreign concept of competition in regards to you. It must be the reason he felt such vitriolic jealousy seeing you next to another man. He had no time to consider himself a fool. He wanted nothing more than to see his nose smashed in and your eyes on him again. 

But Satoru had to remind himself he was different. He was no longer the old Satoru whose emotions reigned over his logic. While the new Satoru was born through pain, it would do him good to act on the new things he learned; like patience. 

And patience he needed when later that night he found himself wandering into the kitchen for a glass of water - expecting the room to be empty and overcome with shock when he saw you there. You’re not alone either. The man from earlier guided your hand as you two fileted a fish. And what an odd sight it was - seeing your back pressed up another man’s chest as he carefully guided your knife against the belly of a salmon. Nanami notices the Prince first, respectfully removing his guiding hands and you look up, mouth agape at the sight of the unimpressed Prince in front of you. “Prince Gojo,” you both say, bowing respectfully at him. “How can we be of service?” Nanami asks, still stuck in his bow to Satoru. For the first time in your life you see Satoru ponder his next words and it is almost as shocking as being in the same room as him for the second time after going no-contact all those months ago. You aren’t used to him thinking so long about what to say; you’d always known him to speak his mind unfiltered. It made you incredibly uneasy.

“Are they aware you two occupy the kitchens after they’re meant to be closed,” he asks and you’re even more confused. Satoru? Becoming a stickler for rules? Your jaw hung open just for a moment when you remembered to pick it back up. 

“We’re very sorry, your royal highness. We will be sure to clean up and head off to bed,” Nanami is nothing short of respectful but Satoru still can’t hold back a scoff, turning his head to glance your way. His eyes miss their softness you’ve always been used to and you cower under his eyes, keeping your gaze on the ground until he finally turns around and leaves. 

𝜗𝜚

That night is the first night you let yourself think about Satoru again, now having many things to think about as you lay awake in your bed. 

He looked… almost disappointed in you? You try to fight the idea of him caring what you chose to do, chalking it up to your hopeless wanting that he was as stuck on you as you were stuck on him. But you saw him tonight with the Princess; getting close to her like he only ever did with you and you know you can’t let yourself get caught up in misguided optimism - Satoru had moved on and did exactly what you needed him to do… So why did that realization have to be so unbelievable to you?

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┊p1┊p2┊p3┊p4┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p5┊

(ty for all the support! comment to be added/removed)

[pearlzier]

⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🐾 ★

pairing : carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary : carm is fucking flabbergasted to hear you've never had a proper valentine's day, let alone a special meal. so he has to rectify it as soon as possible.

word count : 2.28k

tags: the bear, jeremy allen white, fluff, valentine's day, carmen berzatto, carmy berzatto, established relationship, awkward carm <3, BEST MAN EVER.

a/n: got this idea from @aliaugustaa, i thought it was so cute so i just had to do it :3 who needs an irl valentines when u have ur little chef man, making sure u know u deserve the best amiright.

it all started when carmen had overheard you, syd and tina talking. he'd been in his office, trying to get some work done with the door slightly ajar, considering the air conditioning in the room was shit, when the three of you had struck up a conversation. he hadn't paid much attention to it. he occasionally tuned into the sound of your voice, of course, but the details of the words you were saying remained mostly lost on him.

until he heard the mention of ‘valentine's day’ come from tina. fuck. if he had to be honest, it'd been years since he'd last.. celebrated? valentine's day? before you, he didn't actually have any reason to do anything for it. carmen avoided the day like the plague, actually, with the bare minimum being done in terms of heart themed menu times. but even he knew that you would've been expecting a valentine's gift from him, right? you two had been dating for what, nearly a year now, so he had to think of something.

that started his panic in terms of what he was going to get you. he had no fucking clue. but what took him out even more was your words, as you leant against the counter with your notepad: “valentine's day is so overrated,” okay.. “i haven't had a valentine since i was like, fifteen, and i'm perfectly fine.”

perfectly fine.

his blue eyes darted quickly to the calendar on his desk, fixing onto ‘february 14th’ almost instantly. he can't bite back a smile at the heart you'd drawn around the date, with ‘v-day’ scrawled messily on it. but all the cuteness aside, he had.. one week. he didn't need to do anything amazing for you, no, considering you did think the holiday was overrated, however he felt there was an unsworn duty for him to prove to you that you were special, and deserved the best.

he sorted the week that he had left into phases. there were four phases, all of them intricately, messily, planned to ensure you'd have a great day. and he'd managed to do all of it right under your nose.

of the four phases, first came the easiest one. slowly easing you into the idea of valentine's day. you weren't stupid, no, you were quiet observant and god knows you would've picked up on any new behaviours from your boyfriend, so he had to try to integrate the day of love into work first.

convincing everyone to mention valentine's day, not obsessively, but repetitively to try get it into your routine wasn't difficult. it was a restaurant, for god's sake, of course they'd have some sort of valentine's menu, right?

so he got marcus to start making some particularly love themed desserts — “uh, sure. don't mind it.” you hadn't seemed to pay much attention to the ginormous order of cupid stickers out back, which worked heavily in his favour.

“yo, cousin, don't worry. she'll be walkin’ ‘round with the whole ass arrow by the time i'm done,” — richie was just as eager to get you in a lovey-dovey mood, with his passing comments about how eva was a total bachelorette and that all the kids in her class were gonna be throwing presents onto her desk.

there was no way to tell whether that was true or not. no one really asked.

“hey, cool, i'm feeling it,” — tina was also happy to help, being overly lovey with you around the restaurant. it was quite unlike her, but still, you didn't mind the affection. little hugs, forehead kisses from dear aunt tina weren't that bad.

“she's gonna realise that we're going overboard,” — syd was the most reluctant. she'd have much rather told you about what they were doing, as opposed to keeping it a secret. however carm was good at convincing her, and it was for a good cause too. so, she let it slide, pushing the valentine's agenda with little doodles of cupids or hearts on her menu designs. you liked them.

so that was phase one done. pretty simple, if carmy says so himself. and you didn't mention anything about it. perfect. he felt a little weird keeping something from you, but, of course, it was a good cause, right?

with phase one completed, he had to move onto phase two. this one was probably his second favourite of all of them. bringing valentine's into the house. valentine's day was all about love. he loves you, of course. it was the reason why he was doing all of this in the first place. so he thought the best way to do this phase was to get you in the mood.

you were very clearly confused by the romcom that was playing on the tv screen when he ushered you into the living room, but you didn't ask many questions considering how tired you were. “carm,” you began, brow furrowing, before you shrugged, moving over to settle on the couch. tilting your head over to the direction of the kitchen, your eyes found carmy bringing over the chinese takeout. it'd been a while since you two had indulged in it, but he knew full well it was your favourite. “you're the best,” his smug little smile told you a lot, but not about his little scheme and its phases.

“i know, babe,” he hums, bringing over the tray and settling it onto the coffee table. carmen shuffled over, settling onto the couch beside you, gently lifting your box onto your lap before he took his own. it wasn't unlike him to take care of you like this, but there was something more tender in how he was helping you. sweet, yes, but it was making you a tad bit suspicious. “you okay?” he asked softly, voice gentle and low, as a small little smile played on his lips.

“mhm,” you nodded, just snuggling beside him with the takeout box in your grasp. you two usually didn't watch romcoms, usually finding a good drama or sitcom however you didn't mind it. this one in particular was quite good.

and besides, carmen having his arm slung around your waist as you two ate was a perfect feeling. so despite your suspicions, you let him have this moment without asking him.

that was phase two done. not too shabby, really. richie and, actually, literally everyone in the bear was a tad bit sick of carmen's rambling about how amazing you were. they literally all knew it, since you were their colleague, but god, could this man talk.

the third phase was one that carmy realised perhaps should've come earlier. it was just getting you things that you liked, without you realising. which was harder than it sounded, considering carmen was shit at keeping things from you, and you were usually the one who looked at orders to the apartment. so he needed the help of his sister, natalie. she was so eager to help that it was a little overwhelming. “so what do they like anyway?” natalie asked as she pushed the cart beside carmen, eyes flickering over to his in curiosity. “bear?”

he was uh, stressing. he loved you so much, and—well, “god, sugar, i love her—” he ran a hand through his curls, eyes widening as soon as he saw the giant valentine's day display in the store. a quiet groan slipped past his lips and he bit his knuckles for a moment, glancing desperately over at his sister. “peach deserves the fuckin’ world, y'know? just wan’ make it special for her,” the pity, and adoration, in natalie's gaze softened her eyes immediately and she gave him a quick pat on the back.

“right,” it was her personal mission now to ensure that you and her brother had a perfect day on valentine's. she was sure of it. a small little grin played on her lips as she ushered him over to the display, and she leant against the cart. “okay, what would she like? something lovey? sentimental?”

“don't fuckin’ know,” carmen muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple as he looked over the many valentine's themed things available. holy shit, this was harder than he thought. he knew you so well and yet, what you'd like evaded him.

“okay, well,” natalie picks up a random white teddy bear, brows raising in question as she offers it to her brother. he grabs at it, squeezes it perhaps a little too hard out of frustration but slowly relaxes his tight grip on it. “okay, that one's going in.”

the shopping trip continued like this, with natalie suggesting things that she thought you might like, with carmy giving his wordless responses. it was kind of therapeutic for nat, to be fair. and carmen was getting the stuff he needed for you. he'd have to thank natalie after, considering soon after he was done with phase three, he was into the final phase. the actual valentine's gift.

this was probably his favourite part. of course, carmen was a chef by nature. so he knew a valentine's dinner was in order. he was sort of sick of hearing anything related to the saint, however he could relax with this part. he'd made sure that syd would keep you out of the apartment for at least three hours. having even gone to the lengths of giving money for you guys to spend, he was clearly working hard. he knew your palette, so well in fact, that he didn't even think twice about what he was preparing.

from what you loved to eat, to what you despised, carmen knew it all. and he wanted to spoil you in terms of what he made, so he also gave sydney strict instructions that the two of you weren't allowed to get any food. hey, he wanted you to have enough room to eat.

he'd planned everything immaculately, of course, but when he heard you and syd at the door, he almost panicked. the table was laid out perfectly, all of your favourite foods available. a flush filled his cheeks at the thoughts of richie's previous words: “shit, cousin’, you a fuckin’ simp,” rang through his head and he scratched the back of his neck nervously, sitting at the table.

“thanks, syd,” your voice called from down the hall at the door, your smile evident in your voice. it made the butterflies in his stomach flutter, and he shifted where he sat. “m'back, carm!” you were making your way down the hall now, nearing the living room where you assumed he'd be. he was not. “carm—?”

your brow furrowed, since he'd have mentioned he'd be out if he was going to be. “carm,” you hummed as you wandered into the dining room area, not looking into the room until you did, and your lips parted into an expression of shock. “holy shit.”

you're surprised you didn't burst into literal tears seeing carmen sat at the table, wide blue eyes lifting to yours from the table cloth. his cheeks were rosey, a sheepish expression adorning his lips. “fuck, this is dumb,” he got up, scratching the back of his neck once more, “i know you don't—oh, shit, peach—”

his eyes widened as you barelled into him, wrapping your arms around his frame as his hands slid over your lower back. biting his bottom lip, he lifted a hand to your face, just to see your expression. “oh my god, carm,” tears threatened to spill from your eyes, bottom lip trembling. carmen's expression only softener, and grew a tad bit guilty.

“oh, no, baby, don't cry,” his thumb stroked over your jaw, brow furrowing. carmen soon pressed a peck to your forehead, his hand cupping your lower back and bringing you into his body. “can't eat ‘n’ cry at the same time,” he soothed with a soft chuckle whilst he cradled the back of your head.

“so this is what you were doin’?” your mumbly words come all soft, watery, glossy eyes lifting up to his as you frown. you may be about to cry, sure, but it's for a good reason. “all this time? oh my god, is it because of what i said to syd and tina?”

a sheepish nod followed, his hands brushing away your tears gently. he smiled, nuzzling your nose with his own as he brushed his lips with yours, squeezing you tight against his chest. “uh-huh,” he muttered, “didn't notice earlier?”

“nuh-uh,” god, you felt kinda dumb for not realising. but also glad you didn't, since you wouldn't be as overjoyed as you are right now. you squeeze tight around his waist once more before you drag him back into sitting down. hey, you were hungry considering his little scheme. “god, carm,” you bite your bottom lip, looking over all the food. not to mention the valentine's themes decorations.

“so everyone was in on it?” you lean against the table, watching as carmen dished out your plate for you, his blue eyes lingering on the food before they lifted to yours when he heard your question. he gives a little nod, pushing your plate towards you. then, he pours you a glass of wine, all smiles. “god, that's why—oh my god!”

giddy, absolutely giddy, would describe you right now. over the fucking moon.

“and when you and nat went out? you guys never go out, holy shit,” you grabbed your fork, leaning against the table with a little smile. that smile soon became the biggest grin he'd ever seen. “babe, this is too much,” you frowned, gaze all fond.

“wait till you see the gifts,” he mumbled around a spoonful of pasta, avoiding your gaze and focusing on his plate.

“carmen!”

[very-normal-abt-this]

I want talk about how much love was nonverbally expressed *after* their last conversation in S2 Finale.

Yes, you heard right. AFTER.

Sure, they ended the conversation completely pissed at each other. Broken hearted. But, like in any solid relationship, they don't hold grudges. Only a few short moments later, all the anger is gone from Aziraphale's face, and the only emotions left are: love, longing, fear, regret. He can barely pay attention to Metatron, because he keeps looking out the window at Crowley. I think I counted 7 times of him turning his head to look. And of course, he is close to changing his mind several times. (BTW, I would *kill* to know what thoughts were going through his mind right before he committed to leaving, right before he said "nothing at all" with that fake smile)

And Crowley. Most humans, when they feel they've been rejected and/or abandoned - they slam the door and they leave in a huff! They don't look back, they get in their car, and drive away as fast they can, possibly with a middle finger pointed in the direction of the offending party. (Unless they're the type of person who would stand by the door, cry and beg them to stay, but obviously that behavior could never be exhibited by Crowley).

But Crowley does not leave. He does not even try to hide in his car. He stands there, intentionally on display, waiting and watching. Why? Because either A) He is not viewing this as a rejection and abandonment, but as a [huge] difference of opinion, so he is not reacting like someone who has just been rejected. Or B) he IS viewing it as rejection, but he loves Aziraphale so much that his main priority is still to make sure that the Angel is safe, regardless of their current relationship status. His love for Aziraphale is literally unconditional. Crowley wants to watch him walk into that elevator with his own eyes, and make sure that he's not doing so under duress. Or there is option C) He is standing there defiantly, to communicate his disapproval and disbelief at what Aziraphale is doing, like "I can't believe you're actually doing this, I have to see this shit with my own eyes to believe it." Or option D) He is hoping to influence Aziraphale to change his mind, because he knows that its incredibly hard for Aziraphale to leave him. Standing there to send a message of "I'm still here. Are you really sure you are okay with being separated?" Or maybe even E) A small part of him wondered if he (Crowley) might change his own mind about going, once he saw Aziraphale actually walking toward the elevator, once he saw that it's actually happening.

I don't think it's option C because of Crowley's facial expression and body language after Aziraphale gets in the elevator. I don't see any anger, frustration, disgust, or judgment there. All I see is...utter despondency, numbness, melancholy, hopelessness. So, I'm thinking its a combination of reasons A, B, and D. Maybe a little E.

And, I wondered the same about Aziraphale. As he is walking to the elevator, he is not acting as someone who is angry at their significant other. I imagine that a lot of people who feel angry after a fight, and feel their partner is completely in the wrong - they would walk into that elevator without looking back at the offending party. They might put on the happiest face and try to hide all traces of negative emotions, just to "stick it to them." But Aziraphale does look back at Crowley. And, this last nonverbal communication with his partner is also very intentional; he wants Crowley to know that he is looking at him on purpose (just as Crowley's behavior of standing by the Bentley and watching him leave is very intentional). Aziraphale stops and makes eye contact with Crowley, right before he walks into the elevator. Just as Crowley, he is trying to send a message with that pause and look. What message? A) "I can't believe you're not coming with me, I'm hurt and disappointed in you." B) "I want you to know that it's very hard for me to do this, I'm torn about it, and I'm thinking about you." C) "I just found out very bad news and you're in danger." Or option D) "I just found out very bad news and I'm definitely going to need your help. I'll be back."

My opinion is that its a combo of B, C, and D. I do not think its A, based on Aziraphale's behavior and emotions right after Crowley walked out.

So, to summarize the point I am making - despite their deficits in communicating with words, Aziraphale and Crowley continue communicating their feelings nonverbally. They remain committed to each other, even in the face of the biggest rift they've ever experienced in their relationship. Their behavior shows that their first priority in the relationship is not "to be right" or "to win the argument." Their priorities are - taking care of each other. Letting each other know that, "no matter what happens, I am here, and I'm thinking about you."

Thanks for reading! please leave a comment.

[uravitypng]

WORKPLACE SLEAZY DENKI!!!! WORKPLACE SLEAZY DENKI!!!! AAAAAHHH

starting a new office job you expected lots of things, shitty coworkers, terrible pay, rubbish hours, you didn't expect some hot annoying blonde who's acting like he's made it his personal mission to make your life a misery every single time you walked into the office by spilling things and overall being accident prone.

the first day it was all smiles and extra fancy clothes, you wanted to make a good impression after all. you spent most of the morning at your desk but at lunch you rushed to go get a cup of tea from the break room as you were short on time in the morning. that was when you first met him... denki kaminari, flirtatiously talking to a couple of girls next to him and leaning against the wall casually, much to casual in your opinion, the two girls giggling at whatever he said. when he spots you looking at him he winks, you quickly turn around and do what you originally came to do.

denki immediately lost interest in those girls as he saw you, finding you much more interesting. you must be new because he definitely would've noticed a pretty little thing like you around the office. denki excuses himself from the conversion and goes over to you, standing too close to you and crowding your personal space. "i haven't seen you around here before, you must be a new hire right? i'm kaminari, denki kaminari." he gives you a boyish grin and your cheeks flush due to the proximity of such an attractive man who you've just spoken to for the first time. you introduce yourself and chat for awhile, only for a couple minutes, before you get back to your desk, him asking you about your life and your last job, small talk, that's all. he seems interested in what you have to say and you're happy that at least someone at your new job will be nice to you.

half of him is interested in what you're saying but mainly he's distracted by your plump body and how biteable your lips move as you talk. you look so much prettier than all the other girls in the office and he knows that he'll be talking to you everyday. he notes that your voice sounds sweet too, even though he's barely paying attention to what words you're saying.

you've been working together for ten months now and at the beginning it was fine, you didn't notice what his real intentions. three weeks in he 'accidentally' spilled hot coffee on you, a small whimper escaped your mouth due to the shock but you didn't notice the tiny smirk that appears on his face before quickly disappearing. your white blouse is entirely ruined and the fabric is sticking to your chest. "oh shit, i'm sorry i didn't see where i was going. are you okay? i'm sorry, i'll clean it and oh i'll buy you a new one." you go to forgive him after hearing how genuine he sounds but you're stopped in your tracks when denki pulls out some tissues and starts wiping your shirt with the tissues. you're stunned as you feel him press the tissue down against your breasts and rubs, " 'm sorry again, we've got to get it out now or it'll stain." if you heard denki's thoughts at that moment you'd never speak to him again, 'this worked out even better than i thought.'

you were on your guard at that point around denki, at least you tried to be but he's so friendly to everyone it's hard for you to think denki would do such a thing on purpose. when he notices you've withdrawn yourself slightly and started speaking to him less he corrects it. in the morning denki brings you a cup of tea that he knows you drink and a cookie from the cafe he knows you like to go to. "i really am sorry about spilling coffee on you again. i still want to get you another blouse but i don't know what size you are, i'm not very good at those types of things." he wants you to tell him exactly what size you are with all of your clothes, he thinks that might create a more accurate picture in his mind when he jerks off at the thought of you every night. you let your guard down at the gesture and you can't help but feel guilty for thinking that denki would purposely spill a drink on you.

whenever you go to the break room it seems like denki is right behind you. he leans against the doorframe and slouches on the chairs. when you're making a drink he'll come right up behind you to get a mug from the shelf, he'll be so close at that point you can feel his breath against you and you know that if you leaned back just the slightest your bodies would make contact. denki hopes that one day you'll lean back and he'll be able to feel your ass against his crotch.

his favourite days at the office is when you wear tighter or shorter clothes than normal that show your full figure. when you wear those pencil skirts that show your soft supple tummy denki has to palm his dick, over his trousers, under his desk. it's physically impossible for him to look away from you when you sit down and your plush thighs increase in size or when you wear short sleeve shirts meaning he can see the stretch marks that decorate your skin. possibly his favourite thing though is when your shirts are tighter and the fabric is struggling to cover your breasts in the process pulling the buttons more than a normal fitting shirt. he likes those days best because he can imagine that one wrong move or deep breath and your buttons will pop off and your breasts will spill out.

he listens in when you're having lunch with your other coworkers talking about another failed date, who was boring and failed to satisfy you. denki smirks at the idea that it was another failed date, how many people have failed to satisfy you recently. he imagines your cute face scrunched up in pleasure after your date leaves because you have to get yourself off because you're just so needy.

denki drops things in front of you in hopes that you'll bend over and pick them up, however not too frequently that you'll catch on. he gets overzealous sometimes though dropping too many things too many times, often that does give you pause but then you'll see him drop things around other people too or when no ones around and you get reminded about how clumsy he is and you think nothing of it again. denki is so glad that you're kind enough to pick up all the things he drops, because no matter what angle he's looking at you from it's like heaven. sometimes he gets to see your breasts hanging near his face and sometimes you wear clothes that show more cleavage he sees the tiniest glimpse of the top of your bra as you bend down.

when you bend down and he's behind you he can see a clear view of your ass and you're distracted picking up whatever denki dropped so he can look as obviously as he wants to without you noticing. although his looks are often times obvious already but you dismiss the idea every time you catch him looking because you think denki would ever do that. when you do bend over though he wants to pin you to the desk and fuck you against it. he has to restrain himself from reaching out to you and groping your ass and spanking you.

every single day denki is getting bolder with his casual touches, friendly remarks and beaming grin. as the days go by you're starting to think that he's teasing you and annoying you on purpose because he thinks it's funny when you're annoyed, you're getting suspicious you still often brush that thought away.

you don't suspect that he wants to fuck you though. he knows he'll reel you in eventually, it hasn't even been a full year yet of working together, he's got plenty of time to do it. he can tell you're not going to be quitting any time soon and he definitely isn't with you around. how much longer until you realise his true intentions? that is, if you do realise before denki's succeeded and has gotten what he's after, you.

[loveinhawkins]

When Eddie’s terrified, he feels cold—and it’s not a mild thing, not just goosebumps on his arms. It’s violent shivers: his breath catching as ice forms in his lungs, crystallising up his throat until he can barely talk.

It was bad at the middle school talent show: stuck in the wings with fellow students pressed up against him, all jostling for space. He should’ve been sweating.

And technically he was, but it was as if his brain hadn’t checked in with his body or maybe the other way round, and he kept biting down hard on his tongue as his teeth chattered.

A teacher noticed and even asked if he was feeling sick, if he wanted to be sent home.

He shook his head, felt his legs shaking; Jeff had to speak for him until it was finally the band’s turn on stage, and the ice thankfully thawed enough for him to sing.

But right now he thinks the ice is here to stay.

He’s sat back in the boat, the tarp tangled up by his feet; he can’t stop one knee from bouncing up and down erratically. He knows he isn’t really shaking because of the literal cold, but it doesn’t exactly help that it’s damp as hell in here.

He’s not alone—he’s still surrounded by quite possibly the most random group of people in history. Dustin’s leading the conversation, which has devolved into Max teasing him about some girl called Suzie.

Eddie suspects the change of tone is deliberate, that these kids who are somehow well-versed in a literal fucking war have an admirable intuition; have sensed that he needs a cool down after learning about an evil alternate dimension. Kinda like what he does if he watches a horror movie late at night—makes sure to read some light-hearted crap before he goes to sleep, so the scary shit isn’t the last thing on his mind.

Eddie appreciates the thought. If he wasn’t still repressing shivers, he might even find it sweet.

But the chatter isn’t helping.

He can’t grab a hold of it, the sounds slipping away before he can make sense of them; his mind keeps drifting away, and he’s suddenly stuck on the thought that he can’t remember what Chrissy’s last words to him were. He can hardly even recall what her laugh sounded like in the woods—like everything about her has been trapped underwater, stifled beyond all recognition.

He let her die, and he can’t even manage the decency of remembering her. What the fuck is wrong with him?

He exhales shakily. Neither Max or Dustin seem to notice, which both relieves him and sets his teeth on edge.

His lungs are tight, but he still feels a sudden urge to talk—for once wishes that he’d just bite his tongue instead.

Something’s cracking deep inside him.

He’d thought his breaking point had been reached long ago, but it keeps getting worse; as the kids talk, he can’t avoid the fact that they’ve already watched him profoundly lose it, and shame spreads from the pit of his stomach—merges with the ice, culminating in a bitter wave of self-loathing.

Leave me alone, he desperately wants to say, but he knows it’ll just come out in a scream, knows it’ll sound like he’s furious. That’s always been the way of things, at least for him: deep-seated fear hiding underneath anger.

He opens his mouth. His teeth are clacking together.

He manages to temper the feeling right at the brink so that all he says is, “D-don’t you assholes have a bed time?”

“Oh, that’s cute,” Dustin says, over the sound of Max scoffing.

Please go, just fucking go, I’m gonna fall apart and I don’t want you to see it, not again.

“Yeah, well I have a bedtime, so let’s get outta here, dickheads,” Steve says.

He sounds dry, borderline snippy. But his eyes fleetingly meet Eddie’s as he speaks, like he’s heard him somehow. Like he understands.

Dustin stands with some customary grumbling, pulling Max up with him.

“Night, Eddie. It’ll be okay,” he says, so optimistic—with an unshakeable courage that Eddie has never once possessed.

Eddie attempts a smile. Has no idea if he succeeds.

Robin’s already standing, walking off behind Dustin and Max—but then she spins, doubles back on herself; Eddie jumps at the sudden movement.

“Water!” she says, “I’ve got some in the car, you should—hang on, Eddie.”

“I’m—I’m fine, I don’t need…” Eddie’s voice is hoarse, fades out on him. He coughs, tries again, slightly louder, “I said I don’t need it!”

But Robin’s already too far away to hear him.

The quiet rustle of a jacket: Steve is still here.

Eddie lunges forward as quick as he can. His hand clasps around Steve’s wrist.

“Harrington, seriously, tell her not to bother, man. I’ll—” He swallows. “I’ll just throw it back up.”

It’s almost too dark to see, but Eddie swears Steve’s eyes are flickering over his face. He doesn’t know what he’s seeing. Doesn’t think he wants to know the answer.

“Dude, you need to drink, at least,” Steve says finally. He gently tugs himself free—stepping back with an apologetic air, slowly enough that Eddie doesn’t startle. “Gimme a sec.”

He’s back in under a minute, passing Eddie a bottle of water with the cap already off.

Eddie drinks. Despite his protesting, he knows it’s for the best; his head is pounding. He spills the water more than once; his hand is trembling.

Steve doesn’t mention it.

“I can get you some food,” he says.

Eddie shakes his head. “I ate before. Not hungry.”

He’s telling the truth, although he can’t remember what he ate. Can’t remember much of anything.

Steve doesn’t look very happy with that response. His frown is audible when he asks, “Don’t you have a blanket or something?”

Eddie laughs, horribly false. “Why, Harrington? Wanna tuck me in?”

Steve doesn’t answer.

Eddie wants him to retaliate with what he deserves: cutting words. Wants Steve to throw out something cruel, then leave him be.

No. That’s not…

He wants… he wants…

“Don’t move,” Steve says. “I’ll be right back.”

Eddie laughs again—a little more genuine. “Can’t exactly go anywhere.”

He doesn’t know how long Steve takes. He loses track of time after the sound of the car reversing fades away; the darkness stretches out before him, and his fingers flex, tremulous, and he almost starts to believe that no-one’s found him after all, that he’s alone, that he’ll always be—

The soft crunch of tires rolling over gravel. The twin clunks of a car door being opened then closed, not too loudly, followed by even footsteps. Slow. Safe. And Eddie hears Steve singing, quiet enough that he can’t really decipher the lyrics.

He doesn’t know why he recognises it, why it’s so familiar. But he understands why Steve is doing it, the realisation burning in his throat: that Steve is signalling his approach, so Eddie knows it’s him.

“Hey,” Steve says, and there’s a gentle kind of thud—something being dropped by Eddie’s feet. Then the soft press of fabric behind him: a pillow.

Eddie manages to shift his feet a bit. More fabric. It’s a blanket.

“I just thought, like, two layers, y’know?” Steve is saying. “Not ideal with the tarp, but it should trap more heat compared to…” Eddie’s throat tightens even more. It’s so… so fucking kind.

“Thanks,” he manages.

“Hey,” Steve says again, softer—a hand lands on Eddie’s knee; his palm is warm. “You’re okay.”

Eddie realises belatedly that he’s crying again. For a little while, it just feels automatic, as if he’s detached from the tears; Steve gives him space, working around him.

And Steve’s not tucking him in really, just sort of shaking out the blanket, but he lets it fall with intention—smoothes out the creases when it gathers around Eddie’s knees.

Eddie doesn’t know what changes, just knows that he’s abruptly aware of the silent tears building into something more. There’s a false jagged sensation of something getting caught in his chest as he swallows, and he gasps, inhales sharply—once, twice; feels that panicked stutter to his breath, like when he was a kid failing at treading water.

Steve crouches by the side of the boat.

“You’re okay,” he repeats. He’s rubbing his throat ever so slightly while he says it—doesn’t seem aware that he’s doing it.

“I’m s—” Eddie chokes on the words again, a distressed hum cutting through instead. “I’m s-sorry.”

“Eddie, it’s—”

Eddie points to Steve’s throat. “C-could’ve—mm, mm. Could’ve been bad.”

He remembers the feeling of Steve’s skin against the shard of glass, remembers his stupid shaking hands—so close, too close to blood being spilled.

Just a hair’s breadth away from…

It could’ve happened so easily. Two deaths on his conscience.

“Eddie,” Steve says calmly. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t have let you.”

It’s not a threat. It’s a reassurance.

His hand falls away from his neck, as if making a point.

Eddie stares and stares—and it’s definitely too dark to tell if there’s a bead of blood on Steve’s skin, but his mind does the work for him.

Vivid, wet. It wouldn’t stop. Chrissy. Her eyes…

The ice freezes over completely, stops up his throat.

Eddie can’t breathe.

“Yeah, you can,” someone’s saying, “hey, it’s gonna pass, it’s gonna pass, okay? I’m just gonna…”

A snap.

Eddie flinches, cries out with a wordless noise of anguish.

Through the roaring in his ears, he hears, “Shit,” before a contrite whisper of, “Sorry, sorry.”

Steve. Steve’s here, guiding his hands until they’re cupped around something.

Something warm.

It starts the thaw, draws air back into Eddie’s lungs. His head clears a little. He knows where he is. Wishes he wasn’t…

He wants someone to tell him that Chrissy didn’t suffer, that she didn’t feel anything.

No.

He wants someone to wake him up, to tell him it was just a nightmare, that he can go home; he wants the universe to rearrange itself so that Chrissy never even met him—that the only trouble she ever has to deal with is which shoes to wear with her graduation robes.

“I want,” he gets out, “I want—”

“I know,” Steve says.

His hands are still wrapped around Eddie’s.

And Eddie senses the source of the heat now, a packet of some kind.

A hand-warmer.

He manages to take a proper breath, deep enough that he can smell the pillow Steve has given him; it doesn’t smell of the detergent Wayne uses, but it smells like a home at least. The dip in the middle makes him suspect that Steve’s brought the pillow from his own bed.

Eddie breathes in again. Out.

“There you go,” Steve murmurs.

Gradually the warmth against Eddie’s palms brings about a repeatedly suppressed, bone-deep tiredness. His eyes are stinging with it, and he feels like the boat’s been pushed out onto the lake; he sways forward without meaning to.

“Sorry,” he says, tongue thick.

He lifts his head to find Steve looking at him intently, brow furrowed.

“You should lie down,” Steve says quietly. “You look exhausted.”

Eddie does, turns onto his side so he can still just about see over the side of the boat. But…

���I won’t sleep,” he tells Steve through a sigh. He’s not arguing the point; it just seems inevitable.

Steve shrugs. “Just shutting your eyes is better than nothing,” he says casually enough, but it sounds too knowing, like he’s speaking from experience.

Eddie wonders what Steve sees when he falls asleep.

Steve stands up slowly. Hesitant.

“I’m—um. I’m sorry,” he says. “I’d stay, believe me, but I just—I don’t want the car here too long in case someone…”

“Go, Harrington,” Eddie says, hopes it comes out as gentle as he means it to be. “You’re the taxi service.”

Steve smiles. “We’ll be back,” he says. “Tomorrow, okay? I promise. We’ll bring food.”

“Tomorrow,” Eddie echoes. Tries and fails to push down a yawn. “Food.”

It’s not so bad, listening to Steve walking away. Eddie’s eyes close, burn with relief; in his head he follows along with the sound of Steve’s footsteps as they get more and more distant.

Car door opening. Closing. Seems farther away than before. His head is heavy.

He doesn’t expect to fall asleep. But he does his best to keep his thoughts on something light anyway. Maybe the continual warmth between his hands helps, ensures he doesn’t spiral back down to… to…

It comes to him fuzzily: why he recognised Steve singing in the first place.

Last summer, going to the mall to catch a movie, walking past an ice-cream parlor and hearing…

It was an unselfconscious kind of singing—no tension in the high notes. The sort usually done alone.

And do you feel scared? I do. But I won't stop and falter.

Eddie glanced over. Steve had been mopping, head down, but he looked up suddenly—for a moment, Eddie worried that he had been spotted. But then he watched the surreal sight of a group of children walking all over the wet floor, Steve beckoning them onward with fond exasperation.

He tapped at his wrist. “You’re cutting it fine tonight. Through the back, round the—”

“We know,” came an already distant chorus.

Steve rolled his eyes.

“And if anyone hears about this—”

“We’re dead!”

A door shut—alone again, Steve shook his head to himself. Smiled.

And if we threw it all away. Things can only get better.

Eddie remembers thinking that his voice wasn’t all that bad. It was nice.

It was…

Eddie wakes up warm.

The sight of the tarp disorients him for a few seconds—but he’s too sleepy to be panicked. The blanket against his jeans feels perfectly heavy. Keeps him still. Keeps him…

He thinks he must unintentionally drift off again; when he comes to, he feels that the hand-warmer he’s holding has gone cold. His feet knock against something, and he opens his eyes enough to see that Steve’s left more pouches. He takes one, hums when he cracks it so he doesn’t hear the…

It’s another day. He’s still here, damp wood against his back. A pillow beneath his head.

He knows the nightmare hasn’t stopped; Chrissy is still dead.

But there’s things he can touch, hold onto—evidence that he’s not been left alone, not really. He knows that Steve will come back. They all will.

His hands are warm.

And that’s something.

[digoutskin]

ₕₐₗf cᵣₐzy

Ony x Bestfriend!Reader

PART 1

masterlist:

black fem reader, semi set in college, friends to lovers, best friend ony, miscommunication, pet names (mama's, babygirl, ma) from both characters, coworker ony, reader is very quiet and a bit of an observer, so bare with me, and it's a lil toxic, also reader has a darker taste in music and style and smokes cigarettes (don't be mad it's just fiction) a little angsty, hinted at anxiety and depression. Reader is a loner and Ony is basically her only real friend, reader is a virgin, reader is a badass, has tattoos and piercings

A/N: this is my very first chapter of halfcrazy, It'll be 5 parts, and most of those will have sexual energy or just straight up smut. Not in this first chapter though, so enjoy (for now)

"Never thought that we would ever be more than friends

Now I'm all confused 'cause for you, I have deeper feelings

We both thought it was cool to cross the line

And I was convinced it would be alright

Now things are strange, nothing's the same

And really, I just want my friend back"

" You've been sittin' there quiet for hours ma, you ain't gone smoke with me?" Ony said, eyeing you from across the couch. You had been sitting there with him in practical silence, music playing from a bluetooth speaker on his coffee table. He took a puff waiting for you to respond.

You peered up from your book, acrylics flipping a page before responding "I'm good Ony. Jus' reading." you said.

He shrugged his shoulders and took a hit from the blunt, inhaling and exhaling. He then got up from the leather couch and flopped next to you, leaning over to look at your book.

"Looks jus' like a bunch of gibberish to me. You like readin' that french shit?" He tried to grab the book from you but you quickly snatched it away, slamming it shut.

Rolling your eyes and grabbing his phone to change the song "Hey don't change my shit to that rock shit, keep my rnb on fa' now."

"I told you Nirvana is grunge not rock, it's just similar." You said under your breath, changing it to Halfcrazy by musiqsoulchild.

You had been at Ony's for hours, making small talk and gossiping about your friends.

You had met Ony last year while working at your schools library. He didn't seem like the type that would fit in with your coworkers, so he immediately attached himself to you. Quickly all you two did on your shifts was laugh, put the books on the shelf and do recommendations for other students. That turned into a friendship, in which you became friends with his friends, and that was the end of the story.

Sasha and Mikasa had been blowing your phone up ever since you met, taking you out of your comfort zone and into clubs, going to Connie's trap house to smoke and eat every once in a while.

Ony nudged you bringing out you out of your thoughts and back into the almost one sided conversation. "You heard from that nigga today? Whas' his name, Hakeem? Raheem? Rak-"

"now you know that nigga name is not rakeem, it's Hakeem and no I haven't heard from him today. Why you in my business like that Ony?"

"I ain't in your business babygirl, but you need someone to look out for you because I don't trust that nigga. Always coming up to the front desk talkin' about do we have Karl Marx knowing he only read abc 123 shit." He retorted, chuckling under his breath. You giggled then side eyed him, knowing he was right.

Getting up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen table where your work bag was, you looked through the thing to find your phone. He eyed you from behind, eyeing you in your khaki's and tight collared shirt. Your sneakers made a sound against the hardwoods floors in the apartment, work attire draped on your body.

Ony has had feelings for you for a while, but he was 'in denial' as Eren told him time and time again.

He didn't want to admit that his crush turned into feelings, he didn't want to leave his little fling alone, fearing that the answer to his question would be met with your denying head shake and frown.

To him, why bother to even tell you? To possibly mess up such a rare friendship that he'd come across.

You scrolled through the group chat, Mikasa's text bubble a constant on the screen. She was ranting about how Eren had been entertaining other girls on the side. 'He ain't even big like that' and 'I don't need his gaming ass' Flashed onto the screen. You decided to be a little nosy and swiveled around to face Ony.

He cut his gaze away from you, pretending that he was only looking at the blunt he was now putting out. A grin flashed on your face as you went to sit down, folding your legs into a butterfly position on his couch. "You wouldn’t lie to me, right?" You asked, batting your eyelashes and him and throwing your jet black box braids over your shoulder.

"No ma, about what?" He questioned with a puzzled look. "So Mikasa think Eren been talking to another girl... Has he?"

"Look, all I know is when me and Eren went to go get tatted the other day, a fine ass girl did his tat. She was feeling all up on him and flirting. She did give him her number but ion know if he responded. Connie was laughing the whole time trying to talk to her but she ain't want him, she wanted Eren." he paused, glancing at you.

"Don't get in that messy shit, you weren't around the last time she found out he was fucking around on her. She slashed his tires, burned 'fuck you' into his grass. It was ugly. Mikasa is a crazy ass bitch that'll get you in trouble. You too reserved for that, ma." crinkling his nose at the remembrance of 2023.

"They gon' make up, fuck, and be done with it and back with each other again. Don't let her convince you otherwise." with that he let out a sigh, muttering 'shit' in response to his phone buzzing. You looked away from him, a little contact high from earlier.

-

-

-

Ony had always harped on you for being a bit straight edge, only smoking a few times since you've meet.

Each time, you found the warm haze that washed over you only made him look better than normal, made his voice deeper, made you wet when he would hold the blunt up to your lips and tell you to inhale. The first time you smoked together he helped you, coaching you on how to handle it, letting out "inhale ma. There you go, so good at it ion' even gotta teach you" into your ear in a hushed voice.

Before that the feelings that you felt for him were excitement, happiness, and borderline hysterical while talking to him. You could admit to yourself that he was an attractive guy, tattoo sleeve cascading down his arms, a clean cut line up with the two earrings to match. Pearly whites with eyes and a smile that made you melt silently when you looked at him.

He wouldn't, no, couldn't have known you like him in that way, shared the same throbbing feelings between you too.

As much as he wanted you to share them, he just didn't see it. You always had this unassuming face on, only sharing intimate information with him when it really affected you in the worse way. He couldn't remember the first night he got you high, but he remembered the second.

The heat was sweltering and the air conditioner in the dorms was cut off, so everyone you knew from school went to family, friends, or cool shelters over the weekend.

You went to Ony, promising him that you would play video games, watch movies, and just chill all weekend. By the time he got to the dorms to pick you up, your usual calm facial expression was contorted into a frown.

He could see the glossy tears gathering in your eyes and you slammed the car door after throwing your overnight bag in the back.

He decided against saying anything just he, he drove off, letting the sound of 'chicago' by micheal jackson play in the background. You sniffled, wiping away tears only to put the same expression back on, as cold as ice.

"Whas' wrong Y/n, forreal? You ain't said nun whole ride." He turned the music down, waiting for a response.

"Just some guy. I'm tired of nigga's, Ony. always wanting sex and nothing else. No intimacy, wanna hook up but don't want to actually get to know me for me. I enjoy being a loner, it's what I do, but I still want love. I feel like it's not even disappointing, it just makes me want to be alone for good." You ranted.

He kept his eyes trained on the road, and by the end of your conversation, you two had made it to the apartment. "That's why I told you to stop fucking with nigga's like that. He got you all upset and shit, you don't listen." He continued the conversation while gathering all of your things from the back seat.

Later that night, you two had eaten, played a few rounds of mortal kombat and super smash brothers, he had convinced you that the chill part of the hangout wasn't finished until he had properly smoked you out.

He brought you to the bedroom, set up some music and put on some cartoons in the background to balance out the tense energy you had from earlier.

A few crystals sat on his nightstand, a clear quartz, carnelian, and a rose quartz. You took mental note of that and decided to get comfortable, propping yourself up on the pillow you had brought along. He had already rolled the blunt and brought the ashtray out, placing it between you two.

Remembering last time when he called himself 'teaching' you, you quickly caught onto how to smoke blunts. The two of you passed it back and forth. You had the hidden habit of smoking a cigarette or two, so inhaling the weed was stronger but now next to nothing for you.

"That guy that hangs around the library has a crush on you. He down bad, ma. Fuck, what's his name?" he muttered.

"Hakeem. I'm not feeling him like that though." You said, eyes glazed over.

"I'm telling you he on that Joe shit forreal. Hanging around the library, peeking around shelves. He gone beck yo' shit, Y/n." He cackled, passing the blunt towards you.

He glanced down at the v-neck you had on, cleavage showing. The leggings you threw on showed the curves you had, and he hadn't noticed it before, but the twinkling in your eyes showed even more in the haze of the smoke. You closed your eyes and stayed like that for a second, letting the feeling of sleepiness wash over you.

After you dozed off he ashed the blunt, carrying it with him to the living room where he finished it, and began to clean up. Your phone was buzzing on the table, and he figured that you trusted him enough to open whatever it was.

So he did. The contact was labeled Hakeem, with a skull emoji next to the name. The text message read as the following, 'I'm sorry y/n I really am. I didn't know you were a virgin. When you rejected me it's because I thought you was talking to that guy that's always around. I promise you me and that girl ain't even sleep together like that'

He stopped reading the text and slammed the phone down. He knew that the nigga had pissed him off before with hanging around the job waiting for you to get off, but he didn't know you actually talked to him. You're virgin? Wasn't what he expected but you are private, borderline mysterious to him but still so comfortable around him like you've known him for years.

That was the day he officially decided he would leave you alone to just do you, letting whatever you had between you just be. The feelings wouldn't stop, No. They pestered and lingered, they are still there with him.

His plan was to lay in wait, let things happen on there own.

-

-

-

In the present, you two were currently at your shift. You were somewhere in the back sorting out the damaged books, student's reckless with the sensitive materials.

Ony worked the desk, flashing his smile at the pretty girls that would walk pass. He was a straight A student with a high GPA, unlike his friends he did plan on doing something with his life, so he took pride in his knowledge. Breaking his glance towards the back room where you were, he was brought out of his gaze by a grating voice.

"Sup' B. Where Y/n?" The light skin male asked Ony. He wore a Nike tech paired with black sneakers, his curly hair braided to the back with a fresh line up.

The sound of his voice just annoyed Ony.

His face contorted to one of disgust, and finally he answered the man "She's busy. Come back later." His voice bellowed out.

Hakeem's eyes pierced back at Ony, green orbs of his flickering darker in annoyance. "Whatever. Just tell her I was here." He walked away, out of the double doors, pulling his phone out when he got to the lobby of the school.

'Y/n text me back, you got this nigga covering for you and shit.'

He would get you back, and get rid of Ony too.

-

-

It was now hours later, and you were outside on a bench, smoking a cigarette alone. You watched as people passed by, some on bikes but most were hand in hand. You inhaled, taking some smoke in.

You had gotten the text from Hakeem earlier and, in a moment of weakness, texted him that you’d be at a local club tonight with a group, so you could talk to him there.

You shot Sasha a quick text about going out and before you knew it, everyone, including Ony was going.

Tonight would be a night to remember.

[da-shrimping-station]

I really liked your headcanons about the seraphim’s!

Please tell us if you have more, no need to rush, take your time answering this. You can reply once you get new ideas ☺️☺️

hiii! im glad you appreciate the headcanons 💕

you're in luck cuz i had a longer list and just posted some of it first cuz i wasn't sure if it will be well received

lemme post the rest of it here!

and i got some angst lmaoooo

Part 1

more sleepy seraph cuddle pile headcanons:

at first they each had their individual mattresses and they pushed it all right beside each other but in the end they got one big mattress to accommodate everyone (especially Raphael's wiggling around)

at some point they all got tired of Raphael's moving around that they burrito'd him in blankets (he does not like it unless Lucifer is the one doing it)

if Lucifer catches Gabriel getting up to pray, he offers to have a quiet conversation instead until they both fall asleep (Gab would get carried away talking and not notice that Lucifer had already tapped out but he just smiles and goes to sleep)

there are times when those little angel mochis come up to add to the cuddle pile

RIP any angel mochi that end up in Michael's arms (most of them don't survive his death grip of a hug)

they've tried tying Michael's hair when he sleeps but it's too soft and silky that whatever scrunchie they use slips off during the night

Raphael rolling off the mattress is considered normal (honestly im glad they sleep on the floor cuz have y'all heard how a body drops from a bed onto the floor? that shit wakes me up in a panic no matter what)

since they can't always stop Gabriel from his nightly bullshit, Michael gave everyone sleeping masks (but it's still no match for Gab's halo especially when he makes it shine brighter on purpose because fuck you Michael)

whenever Lucifer is the last one to fall asleep, he goes around tucking everyone in properly (loosening Michael's grip, making sure Gabriel is fast asleep, untangling Raphael from the blankets and righting his limbs and wings) before going to sleep himself

HAVE SOME ANGST!

everyone had trouble sleeping after Lucifer fell

so much so it took a long while for the three of them to sleep in the same space together again

at that point, they swapped out the big mattress for the individual ones like before

they all get pissy and snappy towards each other (Michael especially) whenever the mood is particularly sour that night

they fall asleep out of exhaustion more than anything, barely acknowledging each other before going to bed and after waking up

their nightly habits didn't stop but they don't do it as much since they aren't that comfortable when sleeping anymore to the point it kinda mellowed out

in the end they slowly got used to Lucifer's absence

sometimes Michael drapes his wings over the others like how Lucifer used to (they notice but won't say anything and it's not like Michael will admit to it when confronted)

[szynkaaa]

02. In Which the Monkey King Is a Lightweigt

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“You were not jesting around when you said you can hold your liquor well!” 

Cups were refilled, the white liquid spilling out, but everyone was too wasted to care about the precious bit of wine being wasted. 

“So what d’ya say lassie, did uncle Shen Monkey outdone himself this time?” 

The cup was of wine was downed down in one go, with the wine liquid running down his fur around his mouth, which he quickly wiped away with his arm.  

I sniffed the wine cup carefully. It smelt faintly like rice flour, followed by something more flowery. I couldn’t place what that smell was though – not that I care too much about it. In my old traveling days with the Destined One, I learned early on that sometimes it’s just better not to ask or question what ingredients were used to make certain brews and soaks. As long as it gave you a good boost when taking a sip, it was good enough for me.  

The liquid inside my cup had a milky color, but the texture was waterier than milk. I swirled it a couple of times in my cup, before also chugging it down in one go. The wine went down my throat smoothly, leaving a sweet aftertaste as it settled into my stomach, feeling warm. I could barely taste the alcohol. 

“Hmmm.” I pretended to be thinking hard about the answer, before raising my cup towards Shen Monkey and replied with, “I’ll need another cup in order to give you an answer.”  

Shen Monkey let out a hearty laugh, very pleased with my reply and grabbed for the gourd to pour us more wine. Then we held up our cups and shouted “Gānbēi!” 

“Wait wait wait!” I interject before the Shen Monkey could take a sip, who looked the most offended that his drinking was interrupted. “Eye contact, otherwise it’s seven years of bad luck.” When I first started to become drinking buddies with Shen Monkey – and then his in official soak-and-brew-tester – he asked me about my home world. And then the conversation turned to alcoholic beverages that I liked, which then at some point turned into a conversation about all the drinking games played in my years as a university student. 

We raised our cups again, opening our eyes comically widely open to keep the eye contact and then downed it one go.  

“I’ll give this a nine point eight out of ten.” I said. “It’s good, but there is always room for improvement.”  

“You wound me, lassie.” was Shen Monkey’s reply, as he placed a both hands over his heart.  

The facts were these: You, the Great Sage Equals to Heaven, proclaimed that of course you know how to hold your alcohol, which great leader doesn’t. To which I pointed out, I wouldn’t know because when you were still a nameless monkey wandering the four lands in search for relics, we never really sat down to get shit-faced together. And then you said, well now that things have settled, we should catch up with the gentlefolks from the Zodiac Village and get ‘shit-faced’ together (new word that you learned from me). You were sure Shen Monkey has a good stash somewhere, and you were right. 

The facts were also these: After the first round, your face was red. But you were in a really good mood. Laughing and jesting with your comrades, telling them stories of your adventures as Sun Wukong. Yin Tiger rolled his eyes, probably having heard the stories many times already. Shen Monkey and Chen Loong indulged you, while Xu Dog was looking at you starry-eyed, like you were the coolest person walking on this planet (he was right but I would never admit that to your face). 

And I have to admit, you are a good story-teller. Or maybe I just liked listening to your voice talking about anything and everything. If you would record an ASMR of you reading out loud the Terms and Condition of whatever, I would listen to it before my bedtime.  

After the second round, it looked like you were stumbling a lot more over your words, and you had a bit trouble walking in a straight line. When I offered you some water, you declined stating once again that ‘the Great Sage Equal to Heaven does not need that’ – words you probably came to regret in the morning (which you’d never admit).  

What I learned about two-drink-Sun Wukong is that you start to seek out close proximity of people. And by people, I meant me. Here’s the thing: I like being close to you. I like it when you grab my hands and rub them when they’re freeing cold, or when you just grab one of my hands to give me three reassuring squeezes. My most recent realization is that I sleep easier when you’re next to me. At some point, our ‘hey do you wanna stay the night here’ turned to ‘so will you be sleeping in your own room tonight or mine’, just so we know later in which bed we’d find each other.  

However, I was not prepared for two-drink-Sun Wukong to put his arms around me in front of the others. I did not mind us being physical affectionate in private, but in front of others in a time where this could be considered highly inappropriate? There was also the whole matter of that I’m still trying to figure out how to get home, and I’m still getting adjusted to the new you.  

You felt how I stiffened up the moment you settled your arms around me – I didn’t mean to do that, but my body reacted faster than my mind could catch up to and by then you have already removed your arm from my shoulders. I glanced at you but you kept your eyes at the zodiac villagers while telling them about how the rebuilding of Mount Huaguo is going. There was a brief of flash hurt in your eyes, but it disappeared quick enough that I could have mistaken it for the flicker of the fire reflecting in your eyes.  

I didn’t mean to hurt you, so I reached out with one hand to grab your hand quickly and gave it a firm squeeze - ‘I am sorry for my reaction, I did not mean to hurt you’. You gave me three squeezes - ‘everything is okay’.  

The drinking continued into the next round and by then, most of us were either wasted, or passed out.  

By the fourth round, your face was beet-red and your eyes unfocused. Some of the fur around your mouth and chin were wet and covered in wine, as you throw your head back laughing at something that Xu Dog said, your canine teeth in full display.  

I wondered in that moment how they would feel like if I ran my finger over them. I must have been staring for too long, lost in my thoughts because you flicked my nose with your finger. “See something you like?” At the sight of your wide shit-eating and toothy grin, and you leaning back on your two arms with your exposed chest and hair puffed out, I felt my heart beating faster and my ears flushing. 

“I see a stinky monkey.” I replied and held up my cup towards Shen Monkey. A gesture asking him to kindly refill my cup. 

You pouted at my stinky monkey remark, and I thought that was the cutest face expression you ever made. Cute wasn’t a word in your vocabulary that you would use to describe yourself as. I knew you weren’t angry at the stinky monkey remark though because your tail was swishing back and forth. 

Happy monkey, happy life.  

Eventually Xu Dog and Chen Loong have retired for the night, the latter stating that he is not as young as he used to be (probably hitting 2000 years old or something), and the former saying that he needs to check up on his furnace. The pills he was making needs to be regularly fanned at a three hours interval, which means tipsy or not, he has a job to do. Yin Tiger left after the first round already, stating that he has to clean up his workshop and make preparations for work the next day. 

Which leaves just me and two monkeys. One that was barely holding it together after three rounds of drinks, and another one that brewed the drinks and was able to hold his drink much better than you.  

By the time Shen Monkey and I were toasting our sixth rounds of drinks, you have decided that the most comfortable spot for a Great Sage to sleep off the alcohol was my lap. You didn’t even ask if it was okay to use my lap as your personal pillow. No, you just shuffled over, plopped your head down and didn’t respond to anything or anyone anymore. My ears caught the faint sound of snoring, and my eyes watched Shen Monkey’s face breaking out into a huge grin. “Ah, young love.” The wine was slowly getting to him now too, seeing how he barely managed to pour himself a clean cup of wine without spilling over half of it.  

I rolled my eyes at him, while taking another sip from my cup. Amateurs. Can’t even hold their liquid well.  

Here is a secret: I can’t really get drunk. Sure, sometimes I do feel the room spinning a bit when I stand up too fast after a drink, but usually after a glass water I am all sobered up and ready for more drinks. I have never had a hungover in my life, and never been wasted to the point of black-out drunk. I could never figure out what it was that way just assumed it had a very very very high alcohol tolerance, until I came to this world and learned a thing or two about my ancestors and some weird hidden powers locked away in my DNA.  

Ah well, stories for another time.  

With your head resting on my lap, it meant that I was stuck at where I was sitting. I knew from sharing a sleeping space with you that once you have decided to cling onto something (me), that meant getting out of your clutches was nigh impossible and I had to held onto my pee until you were awake before dashing for the loo. In this particular moment, I wouldn’t even be able to push your head off my lap. It was there to stay until you decided to wake up and take us home.  

At the eighth drink, Shen Monkey has decided that he liked having a functional liver and also retired for the night, leaving only me and you, the few empty gourds that need to be cleaned away and the dying fire. I bid him goodnight and watched him disappear into the night, and then took a deep breath to mentally prepare myself for the next task at hand.  

Waking the Great Sage up.  

I knew from past experience that sometimes waking you up was not a good idea. During our travels, it would trigger your fight and flight mode, and I have found myself enough times staring at the end of your staff, thinking that this was it, this is how I’m going to die and dammit I didn’t even get to see Taylor Swift live.  

“Alright mate, time to wake up.” I said, lightly scratching the fur under your chin. No reaction, you just kept snoring lightly.  

Then I patted your cheek few times. 

Still nothing, the most I got is a nose scrunch from you. I tried moving my thigh up, but your head was like heavy rock, keeping my thigh locked in spot. As much as I love the Zodiac Village and desperately wanted to live out my cottage core dream here, sleeping under the open sky with no blankets and pillows was not something I wanted to again for the next few years at least.  

Sighing, I propped up one arm on my free thigh and rested my chin on it, while I used my other hand to continue gently scratching the fur on your face. Your fur is very soft, it was almost like giving a cat the scratches. Stinky as you can be sometimes (not literally), you always put a lot of time into making sure that your fur was well kept and combed through and not tangled up. It certainly was a lot more care than I put into my own hair.   

My eyes swept over your face, illuminated softly by the dying fire light. A memory flashed before my eyes. The same face but smeared in dirt and dust and the fur around it was matt and sticking in clumps together in dire need of a good scrub and wash Your brown eyes still shone brightly and your canine teeth flashing from grinning while listening to a lonely six years old girl telling you about Alice Adventure in Wonderland and how she is Alice and the monkey stuck under the mountain was her rabbit and-  

Your body twitched and for a second, I hoped that you were waking up and we can finally go home, but then you rolled you head briefly to the side, which also gave me better access to scratching your fur there. And the snoring continued.  

I stopped what I was doing to ghost my fingers over your eyebrows that for once were not stuck in a permanent state of focus and scrunched together. You looked like you were at peace; this is where you are meant to be and you’d rather be here than anywhere else. And then my fingers hovered over your mouth. You didn’t have lips like humans do – and that made me even more curious about what it would if our lips brushed against each other, or what it would feel like to have your canine teeth lightly biting down on my lower lips. 

Maybe, just maybe in that moment the wine did get into my head. I found myself slowly lowering my head and moving it closer and closer to your face, until my lips almost touc- 

In a quick practiced movement, your hand grabbed mine and flipped me over. The word spun and everything was a blur and then I felt the cold hard grass on my back, a thigh pressed lightly between my legs and both of my hands being held down by a pair of strong hands – your hands. 

You were hovering over me, looking very smugly down on me, as your tail moved to wrap around my leg. The red flush was still very visibly on your face, and your eyes not entirely focused – meaning you have not slept off the alcohol yet. But clearly you were not drunk enough to not notice what was going on, or what I about to do. 

“Taking advantage of defenseless Old Sun now, are you?” You teased. You didn’t seem annoyed though. In fact, it seemed like you were quite happy with knowing what was about to occur.  

At this point, I felt how my face was glowing bright red – because I almost got caught, because I didn’t fully comprehend what I was about to do until you flipped me over, because of the compromising position we are in, and because this position was also giving a full glorious view onto your fur-covered chest.  

I may be not drunk, but I am drunk on my current view.  

“Defenseless is the last word I would use to describe you.” I shot back, trying play it off cool and tugged on my pinned down wrists a few times. Of course they didn’t even budge an inch, proving that you are the one with the upper hand here. Your grin widened, flashing your canine teeth at me.  

If my heart literally jumps out of my chest now and runs away because it couldn’t handle the slightly feral glim in your eyes, you’re getting me a replacement heart.  

“So what was my little yīnghuā about to do, hm?” You asked, running your tongue over your pointy teeth as you leaned down closer to my face, your tail also sliding up my thigh further along with your body movement.  

The whole universe knew that Sun Wukong has an ego the size of a black hole, ready to suck in anything that vaguely resembled a compliment and there was no way in hell I was going to feed it more, or give you the satisfaction of knowing that I was about to kiss you your dumb face.  

Admittedly, it was also a matter of pride to me. This stupid crush I have on you is killing my last braincells, and I really hated how it made me feel sometimes. The constant back and forth feeling of yearning to be just close to you but also wanting to push you as far away as possible. My unhealthy coping mechanism of having a crush on someone is to bury those feelings as deep as I can, and if they threaten to bubble up again, shove more dirt on top of it to push it even further down. I would eat a durian than confessing to anyone that I may or may not have inappropriate thoughts about them that includes as holding hands.  

At this point, all of the three realms knew that your feelings towards me were not entirely platonic – not that you were trying to hide in the first place. You were never shy about your own feelings. If you were angry at something, you made it known by reaching out to your ear to get your Jīngū Bàng out. If you found something funny, you would often be seen laughing out loud, sometimes to the point where you were clutching your stomach and doubling over. As the Destined One, you made your jealousy known by standing really close to me and glaring at whoever was trying to cozy up to me; sometimes you’d just out your arms around my waist and rest your head on top of me and holding me like that (although since you became Sun Wukong, I noticed that streak of possessiveness has mellowed out a lot).  

You never outright said that you have romantic feelings for me, but I’ve had my fair share of wild phases in my student days, and at some point, your gut just learns to pick up on those things. Additionally, a lot of the people we have met, including uncle Bajie, make tons of teasing remarks that are not very hard to miss, and you never. 

Unfortunately for you, I have what people call these days a wee bit of a commitment-and abandonment issue. So many what if’s running through my head. What if for some reason I was wrong, and you were always this flirty with anyone. What if after a while you find out I am not that great at all and lose interest? What if you meet an immortal that is everything that I am not, and a much better match for you? I’m used to people leaving, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less when it happens again. What if, what if, what if.  

I’ve been meaning to go to therapy for some time now, but finding an appointment takes ages, and now that I’m stuck in Ancient China, that search has been put down to the very bottom of my priority list. And my final goal still remains to find a way back home to my own time and world. You promised me you would help me with that.  

If I never admit that I have feelings for you, then it means they are not real – that was my childish excuse. If I close my eyes, you can’t find me.  

Instead of answering your question, I turned my head away, to look at anything but your face. You didn’t like that, and swiftly I felt how you move my arms from my side to above me, shifting from being pinned down by both of your hands to one. With your free hand, you grabbed my chin and gently turned my face to be facing you again. 

Your brown eyes seemed more focused now, but your face was still flushed red (the asian flush from drinking?). I could faintly smell the alcohol from your breath, with a peachy undertone. It’s a very addicting smell, which also seems to be clinging to me whenever you decide to be physically clingy again (which is like 75% of the time).  

In a last-ditch attempt to escape your clutches just to avoid having to answer your question, I kicked up my leg that was trapped between your legs. Low move, I know. As expected, you saw it coming and immediately trapped my leg between yours, preventing it from ever kicking your balls.  

“Oh, come on!” I shouted. Your nose scrunched up in laughter at my feeble escape attempt.  

And in an instant the atmosphere between us shifted and you stared at my intensely. You moved your hand from my chin to caressing my cheek, your sharp fingernails carefully gracing the skin. My hair was tussled up from being suddenly flipped over and spilled all over the place. Your fingers grabbed few strands from my face and tucked them aside, behind my ears, and then your hand stayed there, playing with my two helix piercings.  

At this point, you must have been able to hear how hard my heart was hammering against my chest.  

Then I saw how your eyes flickered down to my slightly parted lips, your gaze turning hungry. With half-lidded eyes, you began to lower your head again and this time, I didn’t struggle against your hold. A big part of me wanted what was coming next to happen.  

Your hot breath was against my face, I tried to take slow breaths to calm my beating heart down.  

The smell of alcohol became more intense, muddling my thoughts more.  

I closed my eyes, waiting for your lips to brush against mine. How would it feel if we kissed? I have never kissed an anthromorphic monkey before – how would it even feel like if we were to make out? 

FAAFO. 

Fuck around and find out it is.  

The kiss never came.  

Instead, I felt your lips lightly brushing the corner of my own lips, sliding down from the side of my face and your head was then lying there next to me, snoring again.  

The grip you had on my two hands also slackened, your whole body coming down to lay on top of mine, pinning me down.  

You... passed out again. 

I used my free hands to push you off of me, but of course you didn’t even budge and inch.  

I let out a shaky long sigh, part of me glad that nothing happened in the end because you were drunk after all; another part of me felt this immense disappointment that well, nothing happened.  

Looks like it is going to be another night out in the open.  

The fire finally died out. I moved one hand to put it on top of your head and gave you head scratches. In response you nuzzled your face into my neck, still snoring away.  

Slowly, as my eyes got adjusted to the dark, I then spotted a figure up in the trees not too far away from our drinking spot. It was the Shen monkey, who decided a drunk sleeping on a tree branch was the best way to cure a hungover. Only he wasn’t asleep, and judging by that shit-eating grin he has, he saw everything that happened. 

With my luck, by the next time I visit the Zodiac Village, every villager will know about the drunk almost-kiss.  

I decided that this was for future-me to deal with, and closed my eyes to finally get some sleep. Maybe you will not remember anything by tomorrow and we can both pretend that this never happened.  

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

I keep a bottle of rice wine at my apartment. Sometimes, when I’m feeling homesick, I pour two cups – one for you, and one for me. I would drink my cup down in one go, thinking about the evenings when it was just you and me and some good alcoholic beverages, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. 

I miss seeing the red flush on your face and your cocky smile whenever you noticed me staring at you for too long. The red flush looked good on your face.  

Your cup always remains untouched.  

Chapter notes:

干杯 gānbēi - is what you say when toasting your drinks, literally means dry cup 桜花 yīnghuā - cherry blossom. It's Sun Wukong's nickname for Oz, because she has pink hair. Also everyone uses peaches as a nickname and I wanted something different LMFAO #notlikeothergirls

Eye contact or seven years of bad luck (even bad sex) - toasting tradition in Germany. You're supposed to be looking at the other person when toasting, not your glass but when you tell someone to keep eye contact you usually just end up creepily staring at each other xD

And no, Oz cannot get drunk - which I will proooobably explain in another chapter, if not I will definitely write up post on my tumblr about it. Still hashing out some of her backstory details.

[amyispxnk]

Best Idea You’ve Ever Had

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel’s job is boring so you help make it a little more exciting ;)

A/N: I actually don’t have anything to say this time (goes on to ramble) I kind of like it and I’m like ‘oh I wrote a decent smut for once’ but I feel like I’m gonna read this again tomorrow and be like ew. I don’t really feel like I did this justice if you get what I’m saying. Feels very basic boring but anyway please read lmk and all the shit!!

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: established relationship, SMUT - blowjob, face-fucking, cum eating -, pet names, kissing, good girl used once, mm i think that’s it

DO NOT COPY THIS WORK IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

Joel adjusted the reading glasses which were close to falling off his nose, head tipping downwards as he tried to not fall asleep during this damned meeting and actually take notes which he needed for later.

His job was great, paid well, had reasonable enough hours - compared to his last job, where he could be working until anytime between 5 and midnight - and wasn’t too difficult, but god was it boring. He’d much rather be doing anything at all with you. You, who were probably sat downstairs, nose buried in one of those books you always read, legs curled beneath you as you laid on the couch, without him. It was the weekend, you were supposed to be spending time together and instead he was forced into work again, missing out on spending time with you again.

He pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh, looking back up to the computer screen when he heard a quiet knock on his office door.

“Joel?” Your small voice asked from behind it, keeping caution to not disturb him too much during his meeting.

He checked his microphone was muted before turning slightly. “Yeah, sweetheart?” He replied, watching as you walked in and gently shut the door behind you. You walked past his chair and sat on the small couch which was to the left of his desk, just behind it.

“You ‘member what we were talking about last night?” You asked.

He pondered it for a moment, furrowing his brows and cursing his age for not remembering that thing you were discussing the night before. You always talked a lot at night, save for a few times when he’d been close to sleeping on the couch and you could barely manage sleeping back-to-back, so his mind was replaying the most recent, lengthy conversation you’d had. When he remembered, his expression flickered with surprise before his lips curved into a smirk.

Last night, you two had talked about plans for the weekend during dinner when his meeting came up.

“I wanted to spend the whole weekend with you, we barely get time anymore..” He said with a frown as he finished telling you about the meeting and how long it would certainly take.

“Because we’re workin’ our asses off.” You quipped, trying to lighten his mood a little bit and internally melting at just how distraught he seemed at not being able to be with you the entire day tomorrow.

“That’s true.” He agreed with a little smile.

You let a moment of silence pass as you both finished eating quietly, when a devilish thought crossed your mind - a grin broadening on your face to pair with it.

“What you smirkin’ ‘bout?” He questioned as he took a sip of his water and stood up to go put your dishes away, you following behind him into the kitchen.

“Your meeting’s gonna last pretty much the whole day then?” Dodging the question as you still mulled over your idea in your head, not wanting to straight up ask him in case it made him feel awkward.

He nodded, uncertainty now painting all of his features as he looked at you. “What evil plot’re you cookin’ up in there?” He tapped on the side of your skull before his arms crossed over his chest and he leaned back against the counter, watching you and waiting for you to speak.

“What if I sucked you off during the meeting?” You blurted out, unable to stop yourself from laughing after you said it. “Sorry- if it’s weird, I just thought it might be fun, you’re always saying your job is so boring and annoying and-”

He quickly cut you off from your rambling. “Best fuckin’ idea you’ve ever had.” He told you, mind reeling at the prospect and his eyes genuinely seeming to light up as he thought harder and harder about it (something else getting harder and harder with it).

You were not expecting such an enthusiastic answer, nor such an enthusiastic kiss from him which made you feel like you were being swooped off your feet.

You giggled into the kiss as he finally broke apart from you, chest rising and falling heavily. “That’s settled then, I’ll add it to my checklist for tomorrow.” You smiled before going to get a glass of water and getting ready for bed.

“Yeah. I remember.” He said slowly, eyes narrowing as he thought it over in his head. “I gotta speak too though, might make it difficult.”

You walked up to him, lips pushed forward in a pout as you leaned forward to look over his shoulder, confirming his camera was off, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Please, Joel. Jus’ wanna make you feel good.” You spoke in a sultry tone.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as his jaw clenched and praying to the lord nothing would go wrong, also asking for some more resistance against you because you could honestly get him to do anything anytime you wanted just like that.

“Okay.” He nodded, pants growing tighter as he watched you lower yourself beneath his desk, making sure you didn’t knock your head and settling between his legs. He adjusted his positioning in the chair so he could spread his legs a little wider for you, giving you the go-ahead.

You reached for the waistband of his pants, pulling them down and letting them pool around his ankles as you took his throbbing cock in hand, pumping him a few times and savouring the sight of him literally tearing the fabric of his office chair, digging his nails into it as he resisted the urge to move, grab you, touch you, pull you closer - anything.

You pressed kisses around his groin, a hand reaching up to massage his balls gently as you teased him and waited until it was his turn to speak.

He groaned at your touch, brows furrowed as he panted heavily. It was his turn to speak now, and he cautiously turned on his mic, putting his left hand on yours to still your movements for a moment as his right shakily grabbed his notes and he cleared his throat, starting to give the run-down on all the work that had been completed or needed to be done from the past fortnight.

You waited for a moment, listening to him talk before pressing a small kiss to his tip, making his cock jump in response as he choked on his words, eyes widening as he tried to mentally prepare himself for this.

Your lips gently closed around the flushed head of his cock and you sucked, making him cough abruptly as he tried to cover his moan. This was going perfectly.

You ease the rest of his length down your throat, nose coming flush to the coarse hair at its base as you begin to move back slowly, still toying with his balls as you do so.

“God- damnit.” He grits, having just come to the end of his bit, immediately turning his camera and mic off and grabbing a fistful of your hair. He leans back so he can get a better view of you and notices that one of your hands slipped down past your shorts and into your panties, your finger rubbing harsh circles onto your clit as you blowed him.

“Fuck.” He groaned, meeting your eyes. “You get off on this? Sucking my cock?”

You nodded so quickly your head could fall off, eager for him to release his grip so you could get back to what you started, but he had other plans.

“Y’gonna let me fuck this pretty throat, sweetheart?” He asked, pulling your head backward a little so you could give him proper consent.

“Y-yes, Joel. Please.” You breathed, head spinning as he immediately shoved his dick back into your mouth, making you work extra hard to not gag around his length as he began fucking it with earnest. His head fell back against the seat as his hips started moving on their own accord, chasing the wet heat of your mouth as he got closer and closer to his climax, thrusting one final time before stilling and spilling his hot load down your throat with a moan of your name.

You swallowed it all, sticking your tongue out to show him.

“Fuck, such a good girl for me, aren’t ya?” He groaned at the sight of you, pushing his chair back so you could get up from beneath the desk. His meeting finished and the call had ended, his computer screen now completely black and reflecting the pair of you in it.

Your legs wobbled slightly as you got up, and you could feel your heartbeat in your pussy as you stood between his spread legs, waiting for him to speak.

He pushed himself out of his chair and met your lips in a passionate kiss, tongue immediately darting out to meet yours as his hands roamed your body, one of them pulling your shorts down and getting them off you before he picked you up and started walking to your bedroom.

“Let me repay the favour, darlin’”.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated and requests are open! 💞