#oh shit wait i gotta do dishes

[saturnplaza]

Me: I wanna draw

Looks over an hour for a reference image

Gets ready to draw

Starts drawing

Me: I don't wanna draw anymore.

[sucktacular]

Who up spending all day not drinking liquids and then wondering why they have a head ache and feel like a husk?

[sykei]

wish cooking didnt take 3000 steps cuz idk wtf im gna do when i live alone .

yes i do im going to starve

[monamipencil]

— right here | j.ww

⋆ pairings; wonwoo x fem! reader ⋆ genre; smut, stalker themes, angst, fluff, 90s! au ⋆ w.c; 2.9k+ ⋆ warnings; stalking, a brief non-con talk (doesn't actually happen), masturbating (m.&f.), almost phone sex, stealing of panties, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, he's a bit toxic and an idiot, he's a law student, reader's parents are mentioned as strict and conservative ⋆ a/n; yeah... tried to make it dark and failed miserably. and yes wonwoo reads kafka and you can't change my mind.

stalker! wonwoo who also loves horror movies and hence loves to pull little pranks on you.

“so, gotta boyfriend?” his voice is distorted by the voice changer before it reaches you on the other side. he sighs dreamily, eyes focused on your figure as you cook dinner.

you're not wearing any pants, just an oversized shirt. even though he knows your answer, he waits for you to reply. you blow the soup before tasting it, your landline phone pinched between your shoulder and ear.

“why do you ask?”

wonwoo smiles, leaning against the tree in your backyard. it's almost the same age as you. he knows that. he also knows you live with your parents 'cause they want to protect their little girl from the world. and that you're all alone for tonight, and you share his taste for horror movies.

you move around the kitchen, occupied with the dish. “'could take you out on a date,” he suggests.

you roll your eyes with a scoff, but a small part of you wants to entertain the idea. the idea of going on a date with your digital fling for 3 months does sound enticing. you let the idea sink in as you stir the contents of the pot.

wonwoo groans when you lean your elbows on the counter, giving him a perfect view of your ass. the navy blue underwear, or is it black? he squints his eyes and looks closer. whatever it is, it has him rock-hard beneath his pants.

“did you stub a toe?” you ask with amusement to which he laughs. your visage changes when you realise what he could be doing on the other end. “wait, what are you doing?”

“what do you think i'm doing?” he smirks, watching you move off the counter and closer to the phone body. you twirl the coil cord with your fingers and bite your lip.

“I don't,” you take a deep breath, “know.”

he pulls a cotton underwear from his blazer pocket and presses it to his nose, inhaling your scent. his cock twitches with need, and he suppresses a groan. holding his wireless Nokia 6110 between his shoulder and ear, he undoes his jeans.

it's freezing cold outside, and the risk of mosquitoes is high, but he simply doesn't care. wonwoo pulls his cock out, hissing at the cold air biting his tip. he wraps his fingers around the base, lazily stroking it before wrapping his cock with your underwear that went missing a couple of days ago.

you're at a crossroad in the kitchen. a part of you basks in this debauchery, and the other knows that this very well could be some middle-aged pervert or some 12-year-old messing with you.

“you're so pretty, princess.” he grunts into the phone, hips bucking into his hand.

“you don't even know how I look like..” you trail off, lowkey turned on. wait no! he could be an old man, ew.

he chuckles, eyes darting towards your figure leaning back on the counter with your pouted lips and knitted eyebrows. “maybe..”

wonwoo presses your panties on his tip with his thumb, teasing his slit. his breath quickens and worry looms over your features at his silence.

“you don't know the things I want to do to you.”

you roll your eyes again with a sigh. “really? i wonder what it could be.” the boredom in your tone amuses him.

“I want you to sit on my face,”

a scandalised gasp erupts from your throat before acting nonchalant again. “oh yeah? what else, ghostface?” your breath falters, and your stomach flips. you don't even want to think about what's happening between your legs.

“I'd slowly kiss down your body and make you come undone in all ways.”

well, shit. your legs snap close and bite your lips to stop any embarrassing noises from spilling out. the logical part of you drowns in the wave of horniness that hits you. wonwoo doesn't wait for you to speak and continues.

“I want to strip you bare and make love to you.” his hand movements quicken when he sees you slip a hand down your panties. he sucks in oxygen like he's deprived of it. the cold bites at his skin and his breaths turn foggy, but the thought of you warms him from inside.

your thoughts muddle, and any common sense is thrown out the window when you feel your arousal sticking to your panties. you can't offer him many words, and it brings you embarrassment at how easily you fold. to keep up your facade, you scoff into the speaker but wait for him to speak up.

but the line disconnects, filling you with disappointment and wanting. you place the phone on the cradle and sit down on the floor. the disappointment doesn't deter you from touching yourself to the thoughts of him. you wonder how he sounds in real life and imagine him doing the things he spoke of.

your toes curl as you apply pressure to your clit, rubbing it incessantly. your other hand plays with your nipples, pinching and rolling them over your t-shirt. you try and try but can't climax. you pull out your hands with anger and annoyance.

burying your head in your knees, you think of blocking him but realise he's probably using *67. the hiss of the boiling snaps you back to reality, and you stand up in a hurry to look at the food. you groan, looking at the sad-looking dish staring back at you.

the telephone rings, piling up on your irritated state. “what?” you bark, teeth grinding and knuckles turning white.

“come outside,” a low voice tells you.

“what?” you repeat, softer this time. before the gears in your brain could turn, you find yourself at the front door, turning the knob. it feels like whiplash when your eyes land on the person outside.

“wonwoo? what are you doing here?”

now, why the hell was your ex-boyfriend at your door? and wait.. is he your ghostface?

the possibility—possibility? it's the fucking truth. he's the one who's been calling you anonymously for 3 months and filling the hole in your romantic life. the very hole that he left.

he looks the same—almost the same—but then you notice the faint ring of dark circles, the tiredness in his eyes, and, is that your panties hanging from his blazer pocket?

it doesn't take long for your pent-up emotions to flood your senses and suddenly, you're pulling him in, and locking your hands around his neck. you press your lips to his and let his hands wander your body.

 “wonwoo, fuck!”

you throw your head back on the handrest and tug at his hair roots. his tongue laps at your cunt, and his nose brushes your clit as you lay fully bare on your couch. wonwoo’s grip on your hips holds you down while he slurps and sucks on your hole, tongue prodding inside every now and then.

his soft lips mold with your pussy lips, and his over-grown hair tickles your inner thigh. his hungry eyes meet yours before he pulls away with your fluids glistening on his skin. he ascends on you like a predator sizing up its prey. your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him down.

the soft material of his t-shirt presses against your burning skin, and you feel cold without his warmth. “off,” you huff, tugging at the cloth. he obliges with a smile. soon he joins you on the couch, and feeling his bare skin on yours elicits a variety of emotions from you.

you’re ready to break down and cry but also have the urge to slap him along with the cauterizing need to have him inside you. he stills for a moment, silently looking for reassurance to go ahead. you tilt up your head, kissing him softly and breathing him in. you forgot how intimate it felt to share your breath with another.

wonwoo kisses your forehead and moves back, positioning himself between your legs. “condom?” you croak.

“I don’t have one.”

eyeing the hesitant look on your face, he continues. “I haven’t slept with anyone … after you.”

you crash your lips against his, tongue pushing past his lips. you moan wantonly, and the noises of wet kissing reverberate through your eardrums. you card your fingers through his lush black locks and tilt your head, kissing him deeper and slower.

your core pulsates as his hands rediscover your body. goosebumps rise on your skin when his thumb brushes against your hard nipple, and you shiver, feeling his cock on your thigh. you gasp for air, pulling away. his hands brush down your back to your ass, kneading the flesh beneath his fingers.

wonwoo leans back on the handrest, helping you to position on his cock. you sink down on his cock with his help. you moan in unison when you bottom out. his raw cock kissing your insides sends a flurry of tingles through your body.

you grind down to stimulate your clit. shameless moans escape your lips when he thrusts up, balls slapping against your ass. his hands make a home on your hips as he continues drilling his cock inside you. you throw your hands around his neck, pressing yourself against him. you don’t kiss him but place your lips close to his, and with every moan and whimper, your lips brush against his.

you lose yourself in pleasure, in the way his cock splits you open and in the way he sucks on your nipples. one of his hands moves down to rub your clit as he keeps sucking on your nipple. he moves to the other one, swirling his tongue around the bud.

your body trembles with stimulation, and you bounce on his cock harder, desperately chasing your high. wonwoo detaches from your tits to press a hot kiss against your lips. you moan against his lips, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten with each thrust.

his tip kisses your insides, and your arousal forms a creamy ring around the base of his cock. you're way too gone, lost in the warmth of his hands and the depth of his onyx eyes.

a certain thrust and the rubbing of his hand has you trembling above him. your legs give out, and you rest your head on his shoulder, trying to catch your breath.

“I can't—I,” wonwoo shushes you and repositions his hands on your ass, gripping it as he thrusts upwards into your cunt. the sheer force of his thrusts makes you whimper and dig your fingernails into his broad shoulders.

“wonu,” you draw out his name as your face contorts in pleasure.

“yes, princess?” the nickname never fails to fluster you, and the rich timbre of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. he leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck and chest.

“please, I want to—want to cum.”

he nibbles on your earlobe, wetting the skin with his tongue. “mhm. but bad girls don't get to cum.”

“bad girl?” you whimper, “but I didn't do anything!”

“y'sure, princess?”

“yes!”

“you started talking to a stranger on the phone. yes, it was me. but you weren't aware.” you whine when he slows his pace to a stop. you clench around his length, chasing for some friction.

“you started locking your windows. I thought you liked it when I used to climb into your room through your window—”

you cut him off, “you broke up with me for your stupid friends!”

“and.. I left it open for the first few days after you left...” your voice reduces to a whisper.

“I'm sorry, princess.” he starts. “but it seemed like you moved on with your little church boy,” he hisses through his teeth, voice lacing with venom.

“joshua is my friend.” you hiss back.

wonwoo clicks his tongue, hating the taste of his name on your tongue. the chances of you kicking him out if this keeps up are high. so he changes the topic.

“y'k how badly I wanted to climb into your room? to take off your blankets, and push aside your panty. you would like that wouldn't you?”

“for me to have my way with you while you're asleep? even if you wake up, you'll let me hit it like a slut, right?”

your pussy flutters around his cock and you whine, hitting his chest. wonwoo smirks and leans into your ear, “dirty, dirty princess.” his voice drops an octave.

“I was peeping on you all this time. you wore my shirts, princess? love me that much? hmm?”

you hide your face in his shoulders but feel his smile radiating through his voice. “fuck you.”

“you are,” he grips your hips, pulling out halfway before slamming his cock back in. your slick arousal drips down your thighs, uncomfortably. his cock stretches your gummy walls and the coil in your stomach tightens.

it's hard to adjust to his animalistic pace and you're overwhelmed. lust and passion clouds your senses and the coil snaps. the orgasm crashes over you and your lewd moans fill the room. your body trembles above his and you grip onto him for dear life.

your first orgasm in three months is mind-numbing. wonwoo continues to thrust, chasing his orgasm. he grunts when you violently clench around his length, forcing him to cum.

warm ropes of cum decorate your walls and the wet sounds of sex halts as he pulls you closer. he rests his forehead on yours, sharing his breath with you.

by the time you calm down, you're flooded with shame and the reality of what just happened. his arms and the sound of his heartbeat is no longer comforting. removing his arms around you, you stand up.

you hiss and clench your thighs at the ache between them. his essence drips out of your hole down your thighs, a reminder of what you just did.

wonwoo sits up, worry filling his system as he watches slip on your t-shirt and move away from the couch. he wants to say something, but what can he say? hey, sorry for leaving you and stalking you. 'think we can get back together?

he cringes at himself and watches helplessly as you move towards the vinyl record holder. you pull out a vinyl he recognises and place it on the player.

‘The Chain’ by Fleetwood Mac fills the room, and you walk back to the couch, sitting with space between you two. the soft strum of guitar and drums calms his nerves.

“why?” you fiddle with your fingers, refusing to look at him as you ask. he sighs and shifts a little closer, t-shirt covering his body and glasses back on. “I,” he sucks in a sharp breath.

“I had doubts about … us.”

“I didn't think we'd work out and my friends seemed to agree. I—I'm sorry.” he holds his gaze down with shame.

“it was stupid, i know. but I thought our differences won't work out.”

“how can you decide it before anything actually happens?” you bark at him, your heart clenches with frustration.

“I—”

‘and if you don't love me now, you will never love me again’

wonwoo cringes inwardly. who would have thought that the song he used to dance with you to would represent his life now? he cannot find words to express what he wants to say. two years of majoring in law and literature down the drain.

he simply moves closer till his thighs press against yours and leans his head on your shoulders. “did you only miss me for my body?”

“no!” his defense comes a bit stronger, and he hugs you closer. “no. it's not like that. I missed you.”

‘I can still hear you saying you would never break the chain’

you take his face in your hands, kissing his lips softly. but you break it as soon as your lips meet and drag him upstairs to your room. your grip on his tighter, harsher, like you're trying to prove a point.

wonwoo doesn't protest that he's naked and lets you drag him away. reaching your room, you pull him inside and show him the stacks of books lining your nightstand.

he adjusts his glasses and squints at the books. he saw you buying books and reading them almost every night. he wondered how your conservative parents suddenly allowed you to read books, let alone ... law books?

“law books. I fought with my parents and bought them, just so that we could talk about it because I don't know shit about law!”

you're sobbing, tears cascading down your cheeks, and he feels his heart skip a beat or two. his eyes dart towards the other books on your shelf, Sherlock Holmes and Kafka, his favorites too.

he pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. he smiles at your faux protests and holds you softly.

wonwoo doesn't tell you but he has his own collection of Fleetwood Mac vinyl records lining up in his shelf. he bought Delta of Venus and A Spy in the House of Love, even though he doesn't like the vulgarity of the books you secretly read.

he holds you closer, and for anyone who looks into your windows, they'd only see the silhouette of a single person. your sobs quiet down, and he whispers soft apologies into your skin.

and wonwoo discovers that love is simple after all. love is reading Law and Kafka in your moonlit room filled with '60s rock music.

tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy @jespecially

@asyre @armycarat2612 @bewoyewo @gyuguys @embrace-themagic

@aaniag (send an ask to be added on the taglist!)

[chelseeebe]

yours, forever

18+ mdni. smut. mean!exhusband!eddie;) breeding kink if you squint a lil

a/n: i was not expecting to post again so soon but this genuinely couldn’t wait lol. i have another parts to this little piece so lmk if you’d like to see it. someone posted a really really good exhusband!eddie fic like a month ago and ive lost it, but they inspired this entire thing!

^it was this post by @madelynraemunson !!!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

eddie wasn’t expecting to find you standing on the other side of the door, nor had he expected you to barge right past him and into his kitchen. 

you seemed to show up with zero rhyme or reason, typically wanting something from him. 

that was fine, appreciated even. 

he just wasn’t a fan of you waltzing into his home with the sole purpose of talking about your pig of a husband. 

“david wanted me to ask you if he could take the kids up to washington to see his parents,” you stand awkwardly at the kitchen island, his apartment a shell of the house you once owned together. 

eddie pauses, launching the dish towel onto the counter and laughs, deep and gravely as he swings back around, “no.” 

“why not?” you huff, blinking expectantly at your petulant ex. he’d always been a sucker for your eyes, divorce couldn’t changed that. 

“because i said so,” leaning against the marbled counter, “he asked you to ask me and i said no, that’s it. done.” 

“you’re being stubborn,” crossing your arms over your chest, scolding in the way you talk to him. 

“i don’t care.”

“eddie,” stepping forward. 

“sweetheart,” his tone disapproving as he also steps up, closing the gap between you, “no,” enunciating the word in hopes that you’d actually understand now. 

“don’t be an asshole,” you frown, a couple years ago you’d pout and get your own way but now eddie found great satisfaction in telling you no.  

“i’m not being an asshole, you asked me a question and i answered, dave can go to washington, but you and my kids can’t,” his lip twitching into a dastardly smirk. any minute now you’d crack, really let loose on his ass. 

“oh, so now i can’t go? who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?” poking your sharp finger into his chest, a fury behind your eye that almost instantly made him hard. 

“the father of our kids? or have you forgotten about that?” 

“unfortunately not,” rolling your eyes, nonetheless you make no effort to leave, your bag already on the counter, signifying that what he assumed would happen next was definitely going to happen next. 

“you don’t mean that,” sidling closer, trapping your body between the counter and his chest, “because if you did, you wouldn’t let me keep fucking the shit outta you.”

eddie’s rock solid now, this was foreplay for him, getting high off of the way you argued with him, degrading him right to his face. 

“shut up,” rolling your eyes to the back of your head, fingers curling into the hem of his shirt, “you’re so pathetic,” glancing down at his boner now pressing against your cunt. 

“mmhmm,” he wouldn’t fight it, in fact, he’s proud of it, “only for you though,” finding your hips, palming at the doughy flesh. 

your lips twitch and he knows he’s won this fight, planting your lips to his, a firm hand on his chest just to remind him who was really in charge. 

sighing into your mouth as you move against him, his hands running beneath the seam of your skirt, feeling his way up the backs of your thighs to settle on your ass. 

“eds,” you hum, pulling away from his lips, “i’ve gotta go pick the boys up,” making zero effort to stop the inevitable, your chest flush against his.

“well better make it quick this time then,” he growls, walking your body into the countertop, manhandling your body to face you against the hard counter, pressing up against the swell of your ass. his belt clinks as his jeans fall down around his thighs, boxers following behind. 

“this is.. i have to go,” you gasp, rolling your head back to allow his lips room to find your neck, nuzzling right into his favourite spot just tucked underneath your jaw. 

“then why don’t you leave?” his gruff voice vibrates against your chin as his hands slide underneath your shirt, spilling your tits from your bra to get a full handed grope of them. 

your hand rests atop of his, the other gripping to the countertop for dear life. 

you’re not going to leave, that much is obvious. eddie’s also fairly certain that you’ve got at least an hour before you have to go. he’s not stupid, you play the game just as much as he does, pretending to leave just to pounce on him straight after. 

“that’s what i thought,” sarcastic as ever, threatening to score violet splotches behind on your neck, though his lips detach before he’s able to. 

eddie lets his thoughts slip back to the reason you’re even here, letting himself get frustrated by your blind audacity all over again. 

“you must be fucking stupid coming in here, asking me shit like that,” his large, calloused hand pawing at your tits, the other yanking your panties down to hang around your thighs. 

“no i’m not,” arguing back though you’re completely docile, allowing him to bend your torso over the marbled countertop, his hands groping your plush skin. “he’s my..” sigh, “husband now and you need to- fu-uck respect that,” fingers curling around his arm, pinching at the skin when he slides inside with no warning. 

“what was that?” eddie mocks, slamming into your cunt with little remorse, full of years of pent up frustration and a tiny dose of regret. 

once upon a time, this was his everyday. having you absolutely anywhere he wanted, and now it was solely reserved for times you really needed him to agree to something. or perhaps david had done something stupid, as he often did. sending you running back to eddie like a feeble little deer. 

“shut up,” sighing in time with his rough strokes, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoes through his barren kitchen, filthy sounds of sex wailed through his apartment far more often than they should. 

before you’d met david, he’d see you once a week while dropping the kids off, maybe he’d get to taste you a couple times a month, if he was lucky. it was only after you remarried that you’d come around unannounced, asking about something that most definitely could’ve been a call. 

eddie doesn’t care, you’re the only woman for him anyway, a couple divorce papers couldn’t change that. 

“you fuckin’ love it,” he growls, grabbing a fistful of your hair and fiercely tugging your head back, “y’gotta drive all the way over here just to cum, ain’t that sad?” speaking low right into your ear, his arms keeping a strong hold of your torso as your knees grow weak. 

“you don’t.. you’re- fuck you,” knuckles glowing white with your grip on the counter, other hand desperately nuzzling between your thighs, circling your neglected clit. 

“have to speak up honey, i can’t hear you,” the tip of his cock nudges against your soft spot, eliciting a strangled mewl from your pretty wetted lips. 

“i can make myself cum,” you speak proudly through gritted teeth, voice bouncing around with every slam of his hips, “i don’t need you,” rubbing your clit harsher, as if to prove a point. 

“oh yeah? show me baby.. let me see you cum,” slowing his strokes but keeping his cock firmly enveloped inside, jaw clenching with every squeeze and quiver of your cunt. 

eddie palms your tit, getting as much satisfaction from this as you were. your whimpers alone could make him cum, hell, just a look and he was rock solid in his jeans. 

“oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck,” gasping into the air, leant back against his shoulder, head turning to hide in the nook of his neck as you teeter over, waves of pleasure shocking your body. 

“shit,” he grunts underneath his breath, feeling you writhe around in his arms, “that was good sweetheart, my turn,” resuming his assault on your cunt, breath stuttering as his hips begin to rock again. 

his hand replaces yours, slipping between your thighs to find your clit, thrusts becoming sloppy and weak as the blood rushes to his head, sending his stomach into a series of somersaults. 

even in your separation, your pleasure came first. an important pocket of information wayne had awkwardly handed him when his voice started cracking and girls no longer had cooties. 

you’re putty in his arms, fully relying on the countertop to keep you upright, thighs quivering with the intensity of your orgasm and the anticipation of the quickly approaching next one. 

“oh.. my.. god,” whining with every thrust, your voice thick with lustrous air, too fucked out to stand or even think straight. 

“i’m gonna, sh-shit cum sweetheart,” pounding recklessly into your trembling pussy, dripping in a mixture of your juices. 

you clench around him, tipping over the edge once more, barely able to hold yourself upright with shaking knees and a harsh grip of his arm. 

eddie isn’t, nor had he ever been one for pulling out, he liked running that risk, the thrill of maybe knocking you up again. 

three kids don’t happen without at least one accident, that’s for sure. 

he doesn’t now, pumping the thick ropes of his release into your cunt, groaning belligerently as he does so. praying to god this was the time it stuck, pregnant with his child once again. 

you fall flat against the counter, heaving for breath with the last of his pathetic strokes, growling into the stuff air. 

he slaps a harsh palm to your ass for good measure, trailing his hand down your trembling thighs, “so you run along home now and tell him exactly what i told you,” fingering the lace of your panties as he hikes them back over your thighs.

“no.”

[faeriekit]

I feel like you’ll appreciate this flavor of feral brain rot as a true delicacy.

Ghostly Courting 101

1.) When you have someone you like, you politely sneak into their haunt and leave a gift that hints at your identity. If they’re interested, they’ll start hunting for you. If not, it’ll be removed without the other party feeling any societal pressure.

2.) For ghosts who died a violent or wrongful death, one of the most meaningful things you can do is avenge them. Attack their murderer, haunt their negligent doctor, etc. It’s not guaranteed to win their affection, but it’s a hell of a display.

Now, per the laws of unintended consequences, Danny finds Red Hood rearranging his freezer.

It’s 3:00 AM. He just wanted some water. Why is Gotham’s favorite son trying to leave him a fuck off huge casserole?

“Are you trying to propose or something?” Danny asks the liminal.

“Maybe???”

“Ghost weird or fruitloop weird?” Danny snatches his boo-berry ice cream and starts digging for a spoon.

Red Hood takes off his helmet to make sure Danny can see the Eyebrow of Judgment.

“Fruitloop then,” he says between bites. “We haven’t even sparred, and I sure as shit didn’t avenge you or anything.”

Oh. Oh no.

“Hood, why are you blushing?”

He couldn’t make out much from the outraged sputtering, but Danny nearly shat his fucking core out when it clicked.

“Is this about Joker???”

Danny was gonna take the stuttering as a yes.

Cool, cool, cool. He was calm. He was so fucking normal, it was fine, it was fine, it was—

Ancients take him, Danny beat the shit out of this guy’s murderer or something. He basically did a fucking flash mob proposal!

“Why the fuck am I even here?!” Red Hood screamed.

And the other guy’s fucking clueless!

I see, I see.

1: Which casserole. This is important. What casserole could the hindbrain of Jason Peter Todd's ghost instincts think is marriage material?? Is this like a comfort food can-of-cream-of-mushroom based casserole dish or like one of those newfangled sushi bake type things?? What did Jason whip out to prove he's marriage material??

2: What does JASON think is going on?? Did he hunt Danny down?? Did he just wake up in a stranger's apartment with a casserole in his hand?? Did he go to the grocery store with a list in mind or did he get home and realize he (for some reason) had every ingredient to make tuna casserole??

3: Wait. So does this mean that Jason thinks that casseroles are a good enough hint at his identity??? Does some part of Jason think that his most essential and core part of his identity is his tendency towards caretaking?? YO—

4: It's in a vintage pyrex. Look me in the eyes. This is not just Pyrex it's gotta be the old style pyrex that doesn't shatter in the oven without a pan underneath it. I am a connoisseur of white people culture and this is deeply important to me. It could even be one of the patterned ones. This is part of the gesture.

5: Danny is emotionally moved and it sucks considering that this was a complete accident

6: Jason is emotionally moved and has no idea what the fuck is going on. He wakes up at his safehouse one morning with bridal magazines in his hands which he apparently bought himself?? He's going insane. Is he cursed?? Did that twink who kicked the Joker's ass curse him??????? Curse him into...matrimony???????????????????

[talaok]

Hey, I just want to tell you that I like your fanfics so much! and you're truly an amazing writer! Can I please have one shot where the reader asks Pedro to join her on her skin care routine? like it's all so fluffy, and P just keeps looking at her and pecking her lips at the same time. I hope you see this. Thank you so much. We love you, bestie!

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

a/n: thank you so incredibly much love <3, im sorry for the wait, this beautiful request truly deserved better, and of course, i love you too babe❤️

Pedro had always liked to watch you, you'd learned that quickly.

He liked to watch you when you were doing your make-up, cursing at your products when they didn't do their job right, he liked admiring you while you chose what to wear, that cute pensive frown always on your forehead, he liked seeing you put on lotion and bake those amazing cakes you baked, and finally, he liked watching you do your skincare.

He always prolonged his own routine in the bathroom at night just so he could be present for your little ritual of cleansers and serums and creams whose names he couldn't even pronounce, but today, today something had changed, and he'd decided he didn't want to only watch, 

"You want to try?" your lips pulled into a smile as he nodded, his arms around your torso and his head between your shoulder and neck as he hugged you from behind, admiring your face from the mirror

"wanna see what all the fuss is about" he murmured, kissing your neck "What makes my wife abandon me in bed for twenty minutes every night"

You gasped, laughing as you feigned offense

"I have never abandoned you in bed, you're always here with me"

"mhh" he hummed contemplating, inhaling your scent as he tightened his hug "Whatever you say sweetheart" he murmured with that shit-eating grin plastered on his face "now, where do we start?"

He moved to your side, his gaze attentively examining the products filling the counter as if he knew what any of them did.

"first" you started explaining, picking up your oil cleanser and a detergent "we've gotta wash our face"

"I did already"

You glared at him, disappointed at the fact that even after all this time, he still had learned nothing

"it's not washing your face if it's just with water baby, you need a detergent, here" you handed him the white tub and he only opened and closed his mouth as he accepted the product in his hands.

"You're not gonna use this?" he asked, watching as you squeezed some other product in your hand "is this the cheap one?"

"no" you snorted "I just need to use another cleanser before that one cause I'm wearing make up honey"

"oh" he breathed "of course- I knew that"

You both laughed softly at his obvious lie as he squeezed an ungodly amount of detergent onto his hand just to slap it on his face and started rubbing it in with the same delicacy with which he changed a tire

"baby you're not washing the dishes, you've gotta be gentle" you laughed, watching him open his soapy eyes to look at you

"oh- like... this?" he asked, trying to mimic the gentle massage you were giving your own face

"that's better" you nodded, smiling proudly before taking the residues of your makeup off with a cloth

He rinsed his face and watched you as you did what he'd just done, and finally, finally, you asked him something you had no idea how you'd never asked before

"why do you always look at me?" you said, rinsing the detergent off "I'm not gonna disappear into thin air you know?"

He chuckled, his manly and deep voice bouncing from the bathroom tiles

"Are you?" he asked, taking a step so he was once again, right before you, his fingers moving some hair out of your face and lingering on your cheek

"I look at you, because I don't get to do it enough, because it's all I would spend my days doing" he murmured, droplets of water from your face and his hands falling to the ground as your heart sped up "because you're a work of art sweetheart, and because in everything you do, I see all the reasons I love you"

There it is, the man you married, able to melt you up with just a few words, spoken like they didn't seem picked up off a book, like he wasn't the best man you could have ever wished for, like you didn't love him to goddamn death

You didn't say anything, you never could when he said stuff like that, you only spoke through your eyes, through that invisible bond between you, the words lingering on your tongue

I love you

Before you kissed him, the same feeling, the same message, finding him with it.

"that" you smiled "Is why you're never allowed to make speeches before me ever again" 

God only knew how much you had scolded him for making you look like a fool at your own wedding when he made you and half the guests weep with his vows while yours looked like a child wrote them in comparison.

he chuckled, kissing you again, before you mumbled something about finishing the skincare and he pulled away, a grin from ear to ear on both your faces

he followed all your instructions, first came the exfoliating stuff, then the serum, then the creams,

He watched diligently as you showed him how to execute every step, and then copied you, his hands still moving a bit too roughly on his skin.

the only change he brought to your routine, was the kiss he couldn't help but steal from you after every step he accomplished, a soft and quick one, just because he could, just because he wanted, just because you looked cute as ever, and there was only so much he could do to keep his hands off of you.

And after everything was done, after your skin glowed as you looked at your reflection, his eyes too, focusing only on you as his arms wrapped around you, he decided

"I think I should join you every night"

[sturnihoelo]

Bad Girl

summary: matt punishes you for being a brat

‼️: smut, brat!tamer matt, sub!reader, y/n, bareback, smacking, breeding

⇨this one is a lot longer

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

background: you and the triplets have been out all day running errands and filming, and matt has had enough of your attitude.

10 am

*knock knock knock*

“are you awake?” says nick from behind matt’s closed door.

“mmmm” matt groans in response. he rolls over in bed and lays on top of me. ive already been awake for half an hour now. ive just been laying there on my phone. matt rolls over onto my lap and i run my fingers through his hair.

“get up we have shit to do today” nick says before walking down to chris’ room to wake him up. “cmon baby we gotta get ready” i said pushing matt off of me. “noooo” he protests while trying to grab onto me and stopping me from getting up.

i throw on one of his shirts that was on the floor and head to the bathroom to start getting ready. i wash my face and put my hair up before brushing my teeth. im greeted by a shirtless matt standing behind me in the mirror gripping onto my waist and giving me a hug from behind. “hi baby” i try to say while still brushing my teeth. matt kisses the top of my head and continues to hold me while i finish brushing. i bend down over the sink to spit out the toothpaste and matt pulls me in closer to his crotch. “whats got you so happy” i can feel his hard-on press into me. “seeing you” he said while slowly dry humping me. i kiss him on the cheek before leaving the bathroom and going into the kitchen where nick and chris are. “hey queens” i say to them both while taking eggs and orange juice out of the fridge. “do you guys want me to make you something?” “yes please” chris says in a baby tone. “that would be nice thank you” nick said. matt comes out of the bathroom and comes up behind me. “can you make me something too” matt says in my ear while hugging me. “fine”.

i get out a pan from the cabinet and make some eggs and french toast. i make both chris and nick’s plate. “wheres mine?” matt nags. “i didnt make it yet, you can wait bitch”. i say slightly annoyed. matt just scoffs and goes back to being on his phone. nick pulls out the camera and starts vlogging. “heyyy vloggggg! today we’re gonna be going out and running errands and going to a dinner party later! super fun and exciting i know.” he pans the camera to chris and they begin to show off their outfits. i finish making matts food and carelessly toss it onto the table. i sit down and eat my food. “y/n is going to be joining us todayyyy. y/n show off ur fit” “im not dressed yet!” i say putting my hand in the camera trying to cover my face. matt comes over to the table and sits next to me, putting an arm around me and rubs my leg. “matt not right now” i whisper to him in an annoyed tone. he doesn’t listen and continues to rub his hands all over me. “matt!” i say slightly louder. “fine.” he says as he picks up his fork and begins to eat.

i get up from my seat and put my dishes in the sink before walking back into matt’s room. “matt!” i yell out. he comes rushing in. “what’s wrong?”. “have you seen my red dress for tonight? i cant find it anywhere” “nah i havent seen it” i notice a wrinkled mess on the floor. “matthew.” “why is there soda spilled all over my dress.” “oh my god. im so sorry princess. i must have knocked it over when i was streaming last night. im sorry.” “ughhhhh” “now i have nothing to wear for dinner!” “i can put it in the wash for you” “no its fine” i say clearly annoyed and frustrated. “ill just find something else.” i say sarcastically with attitude. he grabs me by my throat and stares deep into my eyes “hey. know who youre speaking to.” he says in a dark voice. i say nothing and just look at him in his eyes. he lets go of my throat and ever so slightly pushes me back. “get dressed.” he demands. i put on some grey sweats and one of matt’s navy blue long sleeve shirts. it was pretty cold out today so i wore our matching uggs.

we all meet in the living room to give the camera a full fit rundown and say what our plans for the day are so far. me and matt are matching, we’re both wearing grey sweatpants and blue sweaters and our matching uggs. chris is wearing loose jeans and a orange zip up over his fresh love shirt, and nick is wearing black jeans and a striped sweater. “right now we are going to the grocery store to pick up some things for dinner tomorrow and possibly something for a video idea i had”. chris says to the camera. we all walk down to the garage and get into the car. i grab matt’s phone and queue some songs that i want to hear. he snatches the phone out of my hands and said “im driving, we’re listening to what i want.” i just roll my eyes.

10 minutes later we arrive at the grocery store. i turn on the camera and film nick, matt and chris. we walk inside the store and begin to grab everything we need. i walk off towards the candy aisle while chris and nick are recording in the deli section. “matt can we get this please” i say while shoving bags of candy in his face. “matt can we get this” i shove another bag in his face. “matt!”- my words were cut off by matts hand covering my mouth. “youre being a brat. knock it off.” he says in a stern voice. “sorry…” chris runs up to us to ask what cookies to get. “should i get double chocolate or sweet vanilla?” he asked us. “chocolate for sure” “yeah i agree.” “okay thanks. we’re done now so lets head to check out.” we walk over to self check out and chris makes a joke “self check out? if you say so” he says while smirking and biting his lip. “shut the fuck up kid ur so annoying” nick said behind the camera. matt smacks my ass while im scanning the groceries. “matthew! enough!” i say out loud. “youre so gonna get it when we get back home.” matt whispers in my ear. i now start to worry because last time i got on his nerves he punished me. “oh yeah?” i taunt back. “yeah.” he says back, smacking my ass again, slightly harder this time. he pays for the groceries and we all walk back to the car. “im so excited for dinner tonight i’m starving!” “same i can’t wait to see what they have for dessert”. “don’t get your hopes up princess.” matt teases. “shut up you pessimist!” i say back. he does nothing but give me an unpleasant look.

we drive back to the house just in time for us to start getting ready for dinner. i grab my makeup from matt’s room and go into the bathroom. soon after, matt invites himself in and locks the door. “what are you doing?” matt traps me into a corner and hovers over me. he gives a gentle slap to my cheek. “you’ve been acting like a brat all day. you know what happens when you act like a bad girl. you get punished.” he lifts my chin up with his hand and caresses my face. “promise you’ll be a good girl for me?” he brings his thumb over to my mouth, tracing my lips and gently entering his finger into my mouth, forcing me to suck on him. i nod and continue to suck on his thumb. he pushes in deeper.. “thats a good girl” he smirks. i get up off the floor as he exits the bathroom. i continue to put on my makeup and do my hair for dinner. i walk back into his room to put on a black off the shoulder dress and basic black heels. we walk back out to the kitchen to show the camera our dinner outfits.

8 pm

at the dinner table i sit next to matt by default. he notices the waiter checking me out and his subtle flirts with me. i can see the jealousy grow in his eyes as the night goes on. nick and chris order their food and the waiter asks me what i would like, offering to give me free drinks. as i begin to tell him what i want, matt cuts me off and proceeds to order for me. matt places his hand on my thigh and grips it tighter as the waiter comes back. “you know hes flirting with you y/n.” “what are you talking about matt” “dont act dumb y/n”. his grip intensifies on my inner thigh. “are you jealous matty?” i taunt. he grips my thigh as hard as he could, staring so deep into my eyes. “bad girls get punished y/n.” i pull out the camera and vlog the dinner. “what did we get everyone?” “i got alfredo pasta” “i got ribeye steak” “me and y/n are sharing the thai chicken.” “perioddddd” nick says and i give him the camera. 30 minutes pass and we finish our meal. “did everyone enjoy dinner?” nick asks the vlog. me, chris, and matt rate our meals and do an outro to the video. we wrap up the night and head back home.

i immediately go to the bathroom to take off all of my makeup and get changed into my pajamas. as i go into matts room, im immediately blindfolded and thrown onto the bed. “matt?” i whine worriedly. “brats get punished” an aggressive voice said into my ear. my blindfold is ripped off and i see matt holding handcuffs. he sits on the edge of the bed and bends me over his lap. he aggressively pushes me down and handcuffs me so im unable to move. he pulls my shorts down. exposing my ass to the cold air in his dark room. “you’ve been such a bad girl today y/n. i Was going to be gentle. but you’ve been such a little slut”. he rubs my ass before laying several harsh smacks on me. “uhngh~” i cry out. matt’s smacks only get harder with each hit. “you had enough yet princess?” he taunts. “hnnng~” i wail. he took off his belt and gave me a few firm smacks. i choke on my tears and moans from the abuse on my ass. he pushes me off of his lap onto the floor. “does the princess need her daddy?” “dont act like such a slut then” he smacks me one last time. i manage to crawl on the bed but matt pulls me towards him. he flips me onto my back and rips my panties off. he plays with my heat and teases me. he slaps, kisses, bites, and touches my pussy. not giving me any full action. hes doing it on purpose. he takes off his pants and slides his dick in my folds. which sent me over the edge. “fffuckk matt~” i moan out. he slips his member inside of me and begins thrusting aggressively. i start moaning loudly before he pulls and and teases me even more. “if you want daddy’s cock your gonna have to beg for it.” “please give me your cock! please! fill me up with your cock!” i moan and cry out. “ur so pathetic when you beg for me” “get on the ground.” he pulls me off the bed and pushes me down to the floor. “on your knees.” he demands. he shoves his full length into my mouth. gripping my hair so hard while he fucks my face. he moans out so elegantly. “god your gonna make me cum”. tears run down my face and im unable to form a coherent thought. “please cum on me matt!” i moan. “im not done with you yet.” “ass up baby.” he enters me again and fucks me deeper than before. “ffffffuck y/n” he grips my ass for more support. “you want my cum dripping out of you princess?” “yes!~ yes!~ please!~” i moan. “fuck.” matt releases inside of me, pumping thick white cum deep into my pussy. still gently fucking me, he pulls out to watch his cum drip from my pussy onto the floor. “learned your lesson brat?” he takes off my handcuffs and picks me up. “lets go get you cleaned up baby” he kisses my forehead and then my lips.

[twinklyylights]

Ian stops in his tracks at the sound of Mickey’s voice. He pops his head into the doorway of their bedroom, where Mickey’s been for the last 45 minutes.

“Huh?”

Mickey pauses the YouTube video that’s playing on his phone. He looks up and smiles at his husband.

“’Said come in here with me. What are you doing out there anyway?”

Ian shrugs.

“Finished my book, put the dishes away from last night,” he lists off. “Nothing really.”

“Good. Come here.”

Ian listens to that. He joins Mickey on the bed and settles in for what he already knows is a compilation of prank videos.

“Comfortable?” Mickey checks, looking down.

“Very.”

The video he’s watching cuts then, and a Walmart ad takes over the screen in front of them. Mickey rolls his eyes at the unnecessary interruption, but Ian doesn’t mind it. He’d rather talk to Mickey, anyway.

“Your birthday is coming up,” he says softly. “’Gonna be thirty.”

“Yeah,” Mickey replies easily. “Thirty,” he repeats, mystified by how nicely it rolls off of his tongue.

The video starts up again, but Ian pays it no mind and continues to use the time to pick at his husband’s brain.

“How do you feel about it?”

Mickey doesn’t answer that immediately. Instead, he waits until he sees the end of a jumpscare, and then he locks his phone and turns his eyes toward the ceiling. He lets out a breath, but it isn’t heavy in his chest.

“Honestly? I’m pretty fucking excited.”

Ian grins. He presses a kiss to the side of Mickey’s face, and lets his lips rest against the stubble there for a moment just to breathe Mickey in.

“Looking forward to anything specific?”

Mickey thinks on that silently. Lately, it’s been hard to find the words for all the positive feelings swirling around in chest. The ability to even have so many was never something he ever saw for himself.

“I guess just being able to look forward to shit, you know?”

And Ian knows what Mickey means by that. He feels his husband’s words.

“The suns finally out.”

Mickey smiles.

“The suns finally out,” he agrees.

A comfortable silence falls over them after that. This time, Ian isn’t the one to disrupt it. He startles a bit when Mickey speaks.

“What are you getting me, anyway?” He wonders out loud, doing his best to maintain indifference in his voice. Even though, all he wants to do is laugh.

Ian snorts. He pinches at Mickey’s belly, and it makes him squirm.

“I am not telling you.”

“Oh C’mon, man,” Mickey argues, “I’m entering a whole new decade. Beating all the fucking odds, I can’t a get a little hint?”

“Nope. Just gotta trust me.”

Mickey turns his face then; he meets Ian’s eyes.

“I can do that,” he promises sincerely.

And sure, Ian’s talking about the gift he won’t reveal, but Mickey’s thinking far past that.

Because he trusts Ian with everything.

He trusts Ian with 30. With 40. With 50 and the salt and pepper hair he knows he’ll be sporting.

He trusts Ian with all his birthdays.

With all his years.

[thetriplets3]

When you're about to cry and he does that "hey, hey" thing

please do this with chris

❝𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬❞

chris and i have been together for almost 4 months now having met at a small get together of a mutual friend, which when it comes to them a small get together turns into a party.

-flashback-

i had wandered off starting to feel overwhelmed from the constant talking around me. soon enough i found myself in a room that was turned into a makeshift music studio. the room felt inviting and safe for me to hid in for a while. any open space that wasn’t cover with furniture of some kind was filled with more plants than i could name. the warm soft light beckoned me to make myself comfortable, choosing a bean bag nestled in the corner for an extra sense of security. i curled into myself getting comfy figuring it’d be a while till my friend wanted to go home since i went with her. shutting my eyes i listened to the soft sound of the music playing from the other side of the house. the sound of the mini fridge closing startled me, snapping me back to reality.

“oh shit my bad i didn’t think anyone would be here sorry if i scare you. i was just grabbing a pepsi and was hang out here for a bit but i can go if you wanna be alone i mean you came up here for a reason”

“no no you’re good you can stay i just needed to get away from the crowd it was too much for me. so much for a small get together i should have expected this”

“i get that that’s why i came up here. want a drink? there’s pepsi, root beer, water or iced tea?”

“iced tea please”

he grabbed my drink and made himself comfortable on the adjacent bean bag and didn’t hesitate to ask if i was okay and if i needed anything having heard me mention the party was getting too much for me. i had just met him and he wanted to make sure i was okay, something about that just warmed my heart how concerned he was. we began talking about how we knew the host and the more we talked the more we realized how much we had in common. i’m usually wary of men joining me if i’m alone at a party, you can’t trust everyone most of the time they’re drunk or have some weird intention, but something about chris just made me feel automatically safe. before i knew it it was 4 hours later my friend came in the room outta breath complaining how she’d looked everywhere for me and that she’s ready to go home. not wanting to keep her waiting any longer but also not wanting to leave chris, i begrudgingly get up from my comfy spot.

“i’m sorry i’ve gotta go she’s my ride. thanks for keeping me company i really liked talking to you”

“me too. would i be able to get your number? i’d love to see you again if that’s not too forward”

-5 months later-

safe to say i gave him my number. when we first started dating we both opened up about being hesitant of relationships seeing as it’s my first one and he’d been hurt before, the whole idea of dating was unfamiliar to us but we worked through it and i think getting all of our worries and insecurities out really strengthen our relationship.

despite bring together for a few months he’s yet to see me cry which i know isn’t a big deal but that’s just who i am. i’m a sensitive person but i hold it in and break when i’m alone. i was always a very emotional empathetic child the slightest thing made me cry whether it be sad or happy tears. constantly being told “stop crying” or “you’re crying over that?” really got to me now i try and keep my emotions in.

sure chris has seen me get upset or worked up about something so silly. one time i was putting the dishes away and could hardly reach the mug shelf but nonetheless i tried putting a mug in a spot that looked like it’d fit and pushed it a little too hard knocking the mug i made for chris when i did a pottery class on a friends birthday. the mug was coming straight towards i tried catching it but couldn’t and it landed on the ground with a loud smash. tears instantly pricked my eyes seeing the cup i was so proud of smashed to pieces.

third person

chris was playing video games in the living room with his headset on, one ear slightly uncovered so he could listen to you softly sing to your music finding comfort in your voice and presence. a shattering sound followed by your silence had him ripping his headset off and running to the kitchen to see you with the saddest frown on your face and your breathing picking up. rushing over to you he kicks the remnants of the mug out of the way.

-your pov-

“what happened? are you okay? are you hurt? did you step on any pieces?” his voice filled with concern as his eyes dart across my face for any signs of hurt.

“your mug. i broke your mug” my voice so quiet it’s barely audible but the cracks in it indicating in close to tears.

“oh baby it’s okay it’s just a mug i can get another one as long as you’re okay i’m not concerned about the mug. are you okay?” he says lifting my chin drawing my attention to him instead of the tragedy on the floor.

“but it’s the mug i made you your favorite mug and i just smashed it to pieces i’m sorry i shouldn’t have tried reaching when i knew i couldn’t. i broke your mug” i spew out apologies as tears start escaping my eyes.

“hey hey no tears baby. look at me forget about the mug for a sec i care more about you right now, are you okay?” he says cupping my cheeks as his thumbs rub across my cheeks in a soothing manner, wiping away tears as they fell.

“yes i’m okay”

“good i’m glad” he says as he lifts me onto the counter away from the shards and stands between my legs. “i’m not upset about the mug baby. yes it was my favorite mug but only because i know you made it and i loved how excited you were that you made a mug on your first try making pottery. it melted my heart that you could have made anything and you immediately thought to make something for me. it was the thought and love that went into the mug that made me love it. things are replaceable no need to get upset i’m glad you didn’t get hurt. i appreciate you putting the dishes away you didn’t have to do that”

“you had a busy week i just wanted you to relax and not have to deal with the dishes but then i made a whole scene and- and i- your mug” my voice falters, eyes still watery.

“nope don’t wanna hear it pretty girl i’m not upset or mad don’t worry about it okay. i’ll clean it up. how about for our next date we do pottery huh how’s that sound? then i can make you something too i have ideas already”

“i love you thank you for being so gentle with me and my silly feelings”

“i’d never get upset or over something like this or anything really. it’s not silly for you to be upset over this i know you were proud of it you’re allowed to be sad. i love you and i think it’s beautiful that you have the capacity to feel things so deeply” he wraps his arms around body one arm holding my head to his chest as he plants kisses to my hair.

i love the way he loves me

taglist: @antisocialties @iluvmatt @dwntwn-strnlo @fake-coolbeans @opheliaofficial07 @angelcake-222 @oneirophobic @strniolo @lollibumblebee @ssturniolo @20nugs @strniolo @abbie13sworld @luvsturniolo

[the-californicationist]

Good Fences (Fluffuary #06)

FEB06: Acts of Devotion

You awoke the next morning to a loud banging outside your window. It was early enough that your alarm still hadn’t gone off. At first, you were scared, but when you glanced outside and saw the broad, strong back of your handsome neighbor, you were pleasantly surprised.

John was wearing suede working gloves with no shirt, wielding a hammer, and building something against the shared wall of your apartments. You slid the door ajar and wrapped your blanket around your shoulders to preserve what little modesty you had left for this man. 

“John?”

“Oh, sorry, love. Didn’t mean to wake you,” he smiled and began to affix another piece of wood to his creation. 

“What is this?”

“You were talkin’ about your tomatoes,” he said, not pausing his work, “Needin’ a trellis, innit that right?”

“Wow,” you took another look at his work and put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. You needed him to hear your gratitude, “John, this is so kind of you. Thank you.”

He towered over you on the porch, and you realized how close you had been standing to him. John was looking down into your face, taking in your words, wrapping them up in his mind and saving them for later. 

He took a gloved hand and tilted your chin up just a bit, as if he might kiss you. You spent ages there, locked in his gaze, breathing the same air, feeling the wind on your cheek and his strong finger on your jaw. But, at the last moment, he turned away, going back to his work. 

You spent the better part of the day working. There were two students who really needed support, and you wanted to do your best for them. You were worn out, and as the afternoon faded away to the evening time, you’d forgotten that you had promised you’d make dinner tonight for John. It was a Wednesday, and those were always your days for dinner. 

When he showed up with a whiskey and a wine, you nearly burst into tears. You held it together, but barely. 

“John, today was an absolute shit show. I haven’t even had time to breathe, much less do dinner. And after you built my trellis for me; I feel terrible for letting you down. Can you please forgive me?”

“Don’t worry, love. I saw you workin’ while I was cleanin’ up outside, and I called Antonio’s an hour ago. Check the bag.”

He set all of his gifts down on your counter for you to inspect. You peered inside and saw what he had done. 

“Oh, my God,” you opened the bag he’d brought and there were two warm pasta carbonara dishes waiting for you. Breadsticks included. “John, you didn’t.”

“You’re busy savin’ the world, love. Feels good to be able to do somethin’ nice for you, if you’ll let me. I know I’m your neighbor, and I know that makes things complicated… but, I like you. And I like spending my time on you. Is that alright?”

You stepped into his space, just as you’d been standing on the porch, and you felt his heavy hands wrap around your waist, cradling you in his strong arms. Then, he cupped your cheek with a warm palm, holding your face up to his. His voice was a ragged whisper,

“If it’s not alright, you’ve gotta tell me now. ‘Cause I can’t stop thinkin’ about you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, crashing your lips against his. You felt him react almost immediately, smiling against your mouth, kissing you back. You felt his tongue slide against yours, opening you up to him, tasting you and holding you tightly. 

He only pulled away when you did. Smiling with you, and laughing a bit to himself,

“Bloody hell, I’ve been waiting for that, love.”

“Me, too,” you confessed. 

You were determined to show John how you truly felt about him, so the next day, you knocked on his door, packed and ready to take him on a whole slew of adventures just for him. You’d bought tickets to the local soccer match, and you’d booked an evening at a cigar bar downtown. You’d even planned a small picnic for lunch, but when he opened the door, you felt a lump in your throat. Something wasn’t right.

He was on the phone, and he held a finger to his lips, asking you for silence as you came into his apartment. You shut the door behind you as quietly as you could and sat with him on his couch. He was answering questions in yes and no statements, and you could tell he wanted to fill you in, so you waited patiently. 

Then, he hung up, and he threw his phone down on the coffee table with a loud thud. 

“Bad news, love.”

“What is it? Are you alright?”

He took your hands in his and sighed,

“I’ll be overseas for… work. But, I’ll be back here the moment it’s done.”

“Overseas? For how long?” You put your hands on his cheeks, studying his blue eyes for some answers.

He smiled, but it was a sad one,

“A while.”

When he kissed you this time, it felt like goodbye, and you prayed that it wasn’t.

Check out the schedule here.

AO3 Link

[gojos-thot-patrol]

please can i get headcanons for gojo,geto and nanamis love languages please! thank youuuu

But of course you can Anon!! I read this request and instantly got ideas, so thank you for the ask <3 without further ado,

Now Presenting...

Starring: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, and a bonus Ryomen Sukuna ;)

The Touch Starved,

Satoru Gojo

PHYSICAL. TOUCH. Gojos love language is physical touch, no I’m actually not taking criticism at this time <3

“But Narrator! He always has his full body condom (infinity) on!” I hear you yell. And Yes, dear reader, that’s the point.

He’s spent so much of his life unable to let anyone get close. Touch is inherently an act of trust, and he doesn’t touch anyone.

So the first time you hug him, and he actually lets himself experience intimacy, he actually turns into a puddle and melts in your arms.

And that shit is basically coke, he’s had a taste and he can not get enough.

When you’re driving he’s touching your thigh, you’re going to sleep he’s cuddling you close, you’re taking a walk he’s holding your hand, watching a movie on the couch and his head is in your lap. You get the idea, if you’re around he’s touching you

If you really want to make his day, offer to play with his hair. There is a 40% chance he’ll tear up about it.

Honestly, I genuinely feel like he’d be a little bit annoying about it. Random hugs and kisses constantly happening, it would be hard to get anything done, I’m not gonna lie

He’s kinda like a cat! The moment you try to get any work done, he’s crawling into your lap and you gotta work around him.

Hold on, wait, where's my cat meme-

It’s Him.

I’m being serious, cup his face like that and watch him turn to putty.

Moral of the story: Gojo just wants to be held

Man is never defeating the Baby Girl allegations

The Sickeningly Sweet,

Suguru Geto

WORDS OF AFFIRMATION, BABYEEEE

Suguru was born with a silver tongue in more ways than one and he knows how to use it.

“You’re breathtaking, you know that?” “How did I get so lucky to have someone as magnificent as you?” “My darling is so talented, what ever will I do when the world learns to appreciate you as much as I do?”

He’s going to single handedly raise your self esteem, watch him. He is going to pour honeyed words over you like a warm, safe shower

….Look, I’m not good with words, BUT HE IS! You get what I’m trying to say!

He would leave little notes for you to find around the house with sweet little messages. Just to give you a little dopamine rush, ya know?

He definitely sends you random texts throughout the day letting you know that he’s thinking about you and missing you.

God help you on any holiday that could possibly call for card giving. Valentine's Day, Christmas, your birthday, your anniversary, He’s going to write you a card, and it’s going to make you cry. It’s a personal goal of his.

Doing simple household chores has never felt more rewarding tbh.

Like, yea, you’re going to do the laundry anyway. But having him tell you how thankful he is for you and how much he appreciates it really makes getting through the task easier.

Would writing a song for someone count as acts of service or gift giving?...

Doesn’t matter, he writes songs for you, there I said it.

He’s 100000% The type of boyfriend that points out how attractive you are Every. Single. Time. He sees you in any state of undress. Prove me wrong, you can’t. Doesn’t matter if he’s seen it 101 times before, He’s going to call you hot.

Honestly he’s a major confidence booster.

Ngl, part of me thinks I’m giving him too much credit but oh well LMAO.

The Always Helpful,

Kento Nanami

Nanami is giving me Acts of Service tbh.

Like, he’s 1000% the “I will make you breakfast in bed” kind of husband material, and that is an act of service if I’ve ever heard it. 

Honestly, He just wants to do anything he can to try and make your day a little bit easier.

If that means doing the dishes even if it’s technically your turn, then so be it!

Doors might as well not exist to you when you’re with him, he will open them all

“I noticed your water bottle was empty. I got you another one.” “I know you’ve been stressed lately, I made your favorite for dinner tonight.” “Here, let me get that for you.”

He was made to be a caretaker tbh.

You can read between the lines there as little or as much as you’d like

If he catches you doing a chore, he’s going to find a way to help, sorry I don’t make the rules.

You’re washing the dishes? He’s drying and putting them away. You started cleaning the living room? Perfect, he’ll clean the kitchen. Oh, you washed the laundry? Looks like he’s gonna fold it and put it away.

He wants you to feel like you’re in a partnership. I genuinely don’t think he buys into this traditional idea that one partner makes money and the other takes care of the home front. Homemaking is a team effort god damn it!

It goes both ways though. If you really want to make him feel loved, a warm home cooked meal is the way to this man's heart.

He’s going to make the next meal to show his appreciation though.

 Someone put this man in a maid dress tbh.

I need me a Nanami tbh lol

The Ever-Present,

Ryomen Sukuna

OKAY sooo here’s the thing. It’s fuckin Ryomen my guy. Love languages almost require conscious acts of love, or to at least ya know admit you’re in love. In that sense, Ryomen doesn’t have a love language; he actively mocks the concept of “love languages” as humans refusing to accept the fact that their emotions are all just chemical reactions in their brain designed to make them want to fuck.

That being said, it's Quality Time. 

Ryomen’s love is always quiet. It’s him sitting in the same room as you while you read, casually talking with you while you do chores, or insisting on being in the garden while you tend to it because “It’s my (his) garden, I’ll be here if I want! Don’t think I’m here for you.” He absolutely is there for you.

His biggest act of love is letting you sleep in his room with him. That's quality time by definition my guy.

He genuinely gets so jealous when you spend time with other people because that's how he defines love. It's the person you want to spend time with (Don’t ask him about it, he won’t admit it) so you spending time with other people means you love them. And he can not handle the idea of you loving anyone that’s not him.

Remember when I said Satoru was like a cat? I take it back, Sukuna is like a cat. He wants to be in the same room as you but the last thing he wants is to be perceived by you.

He just wants to watch you read your book and not be grilled as to why he insists on being with you all the time. He’s clearly just, uh…enjoying the fireplace! Duh! Foolish mortal, why would he vie for your affections?...so, uh..whatcha reading?

He will never admit it, but his favorite thing in the world is to sit in the garden with you, listening to you talk about flowers while he pretends not to care.

This is followed closely by holding your close to him at night, whispering words of affirmation to you you will never hear when awake. 

I think that spending quality time with you is the only way Sukuna knows how to show love. I think he often gets overwhelmed by physical affection. He’s not used to it, and he didn’t immediately take to it the way Gojo did. Words of affirmation are out because he’s not a wordsmith unless he’s making threats. Can’t do acts of service because his ego would never let him do a favor for anyone else, and he can’t find any gifts that feel worthy of you- none of them feel right. So, Quality time it is.

Words may fail him, but he’s aware of how he feels. And the soft intimacy of listening to your favorite music with you, watching you hum along and dance makes him feel so viscerally raw, that it’s almost enough to make him admit there maybe more to love than just chemicals making you want to fuck. 

Should I just write a fic at this point? Maybe because GOD I am a fucking sucker for soft Sukuna. Yes I am aware I am part of the problem, I do not care, give me 2 weeks. I can fix him!

Just imagine stargazing with Sukuna for a second. Imagine listening to the crickets chirp off in the distance, both of you are aware that it goes against everything he’s ever said for him to be out here with you, and both of you know better than to acknowledge that fact. You know you’re not supposed to love him because he claims he will never love you, but as your hand meets his, and you watch him tense for just a second before relaxing under your touch again, you both know it’s only a matter of time now. 

 I always get carried away on Ryomens section in these.

I just really love my weird little demon dude lmao. 

[mynameismckenziemae]

All of Me

Part 13

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You

Summary: You and Jake get down and dirty again while showering again.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! This chapter is 95% smut, femdom, sub!jake, edging, teasing, orgasm delay/denial, sexting, spitting, ass play, rimming, unprotected p in v, humiliation, etc.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

The video Jake sends you an hour later is downright sinful. In a cramped bathroom stall with no mirror, your view is just of his hand jerking his weeping cock.

Your face heats as his soft, breathy grunts reach your ears along with the lewd sounds of his hand stroking faster and faster.

“I’m close,” he grits out before releasing himself, “Fuck,” he groans, frustrated as his cock jerks pitifully at the loss of friction.

You type out a reply when it ends.

Reese: Good boy.

Reese: Since you edged me last night, I think it’s only fair to edge you. Two more times should do it.

Jake: But I’m still hard. Is it medically safe for me to be hard all the fucking time?

Reese: Yes. Unless it lasts longer than 4 hours.

Reese: I can treat it if that happens though

Jake: Oh yeah? 😏

Reese: You wouldn’t enjoy it.

Jake: Try me

You laugh as you type out the response.

Reese: The blood is aspirated using a needle and syringe.

Jake: Holy shit.

Jake: Well.

Jake: I’m not hard anymore.

Reese: Figured that would help lol.

Jake: Sorry, gotta go-I’m up next. I’ll see you tonight.

Reese: Can’t wait 😘

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

You really can’t wait.

Jake picks up dinner but it’s forgotten by the door when you pounce the second he walks through it.

“He-hello to you too,” he chuckles against your lips. “Wait, I didn’t shower,” he stills your hand that’s on the zipper of his fight suit.

“I don’t care,” you reply, tugging the zipper down anyway; the smell of clean sweat, fresh air, and diesel fills your nose and sends an answering wave of arousal between your thighs. “Why didn’t you shower?” You ask as you fall to your knees.

“You already-fuck,” he breathes as you pull him out of his briefs and swallow him down without preamble. “You already know.”

You shake your head with your eyes on his, mouth still full of him. “I want to hear you say it,” you release him with a pop to reply before returning to your bobbing.

“‘Cause the slightest brush of fabric on my cock is enough-oh,” he breaks off with a throaty sigh as you bring him to the back of your throat and swallow, “is enough to get me hard today.”

“Mmmm,” you hum around him, letting him fall out of your mouth to lick at his head while you bring your hands up to grip his ass. “Any other reason?”

He nods and inhales sharply when your nails sink in, guiding his hips to slowly fuck your face. “There’s…there’s still handprints on my ass.”

“Really?” You ask, one hand coming around to stroke him. “And that…embarrasses you?”

“Not exac-,” he starts, cheeks flushing bright red when you quirk a brow, “a little.”

“Why?” You tease, stroking him faster, “You don’t want the squad to know you were a bad boy?”

His head thumps against the door with a strangled whimper while he jerks in your hand.

Oh, he likes this.

“Or is it because you don’t want anyone to know that this,” the hand still on his butt squeezes his cheek tightly, making him gasp, “is mine?”

“Wait!” He chokes, reaching for your hand still working his cock. “I’m gonna cum.”

You struggle to hold back your whimper while you watch him hunch over as he fights his release.

“That’s two. Let’s eat,” you say when he relaxes, sounding way more composed than you feel as you tuck him back into his underwear. “Then we can take a shower?”

“Sure,” he sighs, grimacing as he re-zips his suit.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

The dishes are thrown into the sink to worry about later before Jake lifts you bridal style up the stairs.

“God, Reese, you make me crazy,” he grumbles against your lips as you undress each other, making you pause but then he continues, “and I fucking love it.”

A slow smile graces your lips as you turn on the shower. “C’mere,” you whisper, crooking your finger as you step back into the running water, “and I’ll show you crazy.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

He backs you against the cold wall, licking into your mouth a deep kiss. His hands slide down your back to grip your ass.

“Wait,” you rasp before he can lift you. “Nice try. But not yet.”

A tortured sigh leaves him as his forehead drops to yours. “Yes ma’am.”

You make him watch as you wash yourself, spending extra time between your thighs before washing him; also spending extra time between his thighs before turning him away from you, guiding his hands to the wall.

“Can I do what I was about to before we were interrupted yesterday?” You ask, pressing kisses to his back as your fingers ghost over his butt, around his hips to brush against his cock.

“Please, anything,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded as he turns his head, “anything you want.”

“Tell me to stop any time, okay?” You remind him as you begin to kiss your way down his back.

“I will,” he replies, moaning when you suck a bruise over your handprint from yesterday.

“Mine,” you murmur before leaving another, “you’re all mine, Jake.”

“Yes,” he rasps as you press your thumb into the fresh mark, “I’m all yours.”

You hum with satisfaction as you spread him once again, before running your tongue over that tight ring of muscle, shivering at the wrecked sound that leaves his lips.

“You like this, huh?” You throw his words from last night back at him between brushes of your tongue.

You pull back and land a hard, stinging slap before spreading him wider to spit on his hole. “Can’t hear you.”

“Yes ma’am,” he cries, legs shaking as your fingers begin to circle.

“That’s more like it,” you purr as your free hand slides between your legs, finding your needy clit. “Touch yourself,” you order breathily before your tongue again joins your probing fingers.

He takes a deep, shaking breath as he pulls a hand down from the wall.

“I can’t,” he gasps when a fingertip breaches him. “Reese-fuck! I’m too close.”

“Not yet,” you repeat. You’re close too as you nip the taut, clenching muscle of his ass.

“Fuck!” He sobs, the broken sound pushing you over the edge. You moan against him and his hand reaches back blindly to take a handful of your hair before tugging you away. “Three! T-that was three!”

“That was three,” you agree with a sigh, rising on unsteady legs. Your hand shakes as you reach outside of the shower for the mouthwash placed conveniently on the counter.

Jake’s still composing himself as you gargle and spit. Or so you thought as the room suddenly spins.

Jake presses your front into the wall where he’d just been, rutting his hot, heavy length between your cheeks before guiding himself lower, as he pulls your hips toward him.

“Mine,” he groans as he pushes into you with a deep thrust, “you’re mine too.”

“Yes,” you agree with a gasp. “I’m yours, Jake.”

“All mine,” he repeats, pressing his lips to your shoulder as he fucks into you at a punishing pace, nailing your g-spot with each thrust while his fingers slide over your hip to circle your clit.

“Fuckfuckfuck. Need you to cum for me,” he rasps, biting your shoulder as his hips begin to lose their rhythm.

You cry out as your orgasm washes over you and he cums too with a low groan, filling you up as you clench around him, milking every last drop.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

You turn on a movie in the bedroom while you dry your hair but every time you glance over, Jake’s eyes are on you.

He looks like an adonis in his low-slung, Calvin Klein boxer briefs lying on your bed.

“What?” You smile as you click the dryer off to join him in.

“You’re just…stunning,” he replies with a genuine smile. Your face is free of make up and you look down at his threadbare US Navy tee that you stole before giving him a skeptical look. “You are,” he chuckles, wrapping an arm around you, “and you’re funny, so fucking smart, a great friend to Bradshaw, and an even better mom to Drew.”

Tears well in your eyes at his sweet words.

“You’ve been through hell and back but you haven’t let it harden you,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’m so glad you gave me a chance Reese. I-I’ve never felt like this about someone before.”

He continues when you don’t say anything.

“You don’t-I mean, shit. I know it’s different for you because you had Andy,” he says, “I just-“

“I know what you’re trying to say,” you interrupt softly turning your head for a kiss.

It’s true; you have felt it before. What you feel for Jake is different than from Andy; it’s not stronger nor weaker, just different.

Your heart races as you pull back from his lips to look him in the eye. “I feel it too.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

A/N: I need a cigarette after writing that smut 🫠 (I don’t smoke). Haha, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it.

Also…aw! They’re falling in love. 🥹 who’s gonna say it first?

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in the comments/reblogs!

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[holylulusworld]

His kind of romance (2)

Summary: Lloyd is something else.

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x fem!Reader

Warnings: nudes, dick pics, fun, implied oral

Catch up here: His kind of romance

Lloyd is on a mission. Again. It seems like that going on missions is all Lloyd has in mind lately. Sometimes you’ve got the feeling that he takes every chance to be away from you.

He’s been away for the better of three weeks and you feel lonely and are in the mood of teasing the shit out of your boyfriend. Eating breakfast alone in the kitchen only reminds you of his absence.

You get your phone out to mess with Lloyd. Grabbing a peach and some raisins you walk out of the kitchen, leaving the dirty dishes on the counter. Lloyd would get all pouty because you didn’t clean the dishes, but he’s not around to torture with his mustache all night long…

“Fuck, cupcake,” Lloyd’s eyes grow wide looking at the pictures you send to him. He can’t see your face, or the rest of your body. Only one of your boobs. “You want to get me hard, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lloyd,” you coo into the phone. “I only sent you a few pictures because I felt lonely.”

“You feel lonely, huh?” His voice is a little rougher now. “How lonely? Do you want me to send you something nice too?”

“What do you have for me?” You hold back a chuckle when he purrs into the phone. “Something nice? Maybe you want to snap a picture of your food.”

“I got something real nice for you,” he whispers lowly. “Give me a second.” You snicker when you hear Lloyd curse loudly. You can hear him stroke his cock, and you know, he wants to send you a dick pic. “Oh baby, this is perfect for you.”

“I can hardly wait, Lloyd baby,” you coo and giggle playfully. “Show me what you’ve got for me. I’m so lonely.”

“Wait…just a sec,” he groans loudly. “Fuck, I miss your sweet cunt…wish you were here to take my big…fuck…”

You cover your mouth to suppress a giggle. Before you speak again, you take a deep breath.

“I wish you were here too, baby.”

“Have a look, cupcake, and tell me what you think,” he rumbles your name and clicks send.

A few seconds later you receive three pictures of his dick. You grin and laugh as he asks you what you think again.

“Baby,” you try not to laugh. “I thought you got that I miss you.”

“I know you miss me and sent you something nice for another lonely night.”

“Well…” You giggle. “Why are you sending me pictures of a worm?”

Lloyd makes an odd noise. He curses into this phone before you hear him fling something across the room.

“A worm? Did you just call my dick a worm? I hope you know; you won’t sit properly for a month after I’m done with you. How dare you send me a boob pic and get me going…”

“Aw, baby. That was a peach and a raisin,” you snicker before you hang up the phone. That’s what he gets for leaving you alone for so long.

“CUPCAKE!” Lloyd singsongs. He walks around the living room, calling your name. “I know you are here. Come out and face your punishment like a good girl.”

You remain silent. All you gotta do is to hide long enough for Lloyd to calm down. If he’s well-fed and had a nice glass of wine, he’ll forget you called his glorious cock a worm.

“I bought that nice mustache shampoo to make my mustache soft and nice for you, baby cakes,” he taunts you. “It will feel so good when I tease your clit with it. Come out and you will cum tonight. Hide, and I’ll edge you until you beg me to eat that sweet cunt.”

You whimper.

“I heard that cupcake. Come out, come out!” He moves closer to your position. “Come on, let’s play throne and queen. My mustache is waiting to go for a ride.”

You poke your head out from under his desk and batt your eyelashes. “Will you show me your worm too…?”

[nolita-fairytale]

comfort & chaos (carmy berzatto x fem!reader) chapter two: covid & carbonara

summary: in a time of isolation, you and carmy find unexpected connection in unexpected places: each other. (the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you)

warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language, mentions of covid-19/the pandemic, eventual smut.

word count: 4k

listen to: hot sugar - glass animals | hard to live in the city - albert hammond jr. | alone together - del water gap | foreign girls - bleachers

read: chapter one

March 2020: 

“Carmy, can you hear me now?” you ask, listening carefully for his response. 

“Yeah hold on. Wifi’s shit in this room,” he mumbles. You hear a rustle of sounds and the picture on your phone goes blurry for a second. This is just something you’ve come to accept is a part of your life now as you wait. 

Suddenly, the picture is clear again and it looks like Carmy’s in his living room now. He wears a white t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants as he tries to get comfy on the shitty sofa in his Flatiron apartment. 

“Ok there we go. I gotta-, yeah, I can hear you now,” he says, finally settling in. 

“How are you?” you ask as you grow more sure that you’re going to be able to talk now. “It’s good to see your face.”

“Yeah, no uh. It’s good to see you too,” he replies. “Shit’s so weird right now, huh?”

“Totally,” you agree. “So… what’ve you been up to? I mean… how are you spending your time?”

He sighs, shaking his head, as if to say that he barely knows how to answer that question. He thinks it over before answering with:

“I don’t know. Workin’ on some recipes. Tryin’ not to lose my fuckin’ head. You?”

“Same,” you commiserate. “Though… I don’t know. I’ve kind of been enjoying some of the down time, you know?”

He couldn’t agree less. 

Carmy tells you about the recipes he’s working on. You share with him the plot of the show you’re binge watching right now. He tells you he hasn’t really been in touch with family much and you let him know that you’ve been running errands for your parents where you can. It’s a fairly normal conversation for a very uncertain and strange time, but it brings you comfort – talking to Carmy. 

You talk about the state of the restaurant industry. The state of the world. The two of you wonder when the restaurant might open back up – if they’ll consider doing to-go’s. He’s not sure and neither are you.

It’s almost two hours later when you realize your phone is dying, and that somehow, time has flown as the two of you have been talking. 

“Shit, uh. My phone’s dying. I may have to go,” you say remorsefully. 

“Oh yeah! No problem,” Carmy replies, almost apologetically. “And I uh, if I get in touch with the people at World Central Kitchen, I’ll let you know. I’m sure they can always use more chefs and volunteers.”

“No, that’d be great. Uh… before I go,” you start, knowing that you want to tell him this. “I just wanted to say… I’m glad we did this.”

“Yeah me too,” he agrees, and you can tell he means it. 

“Maybe… we do it again? Keep each other company… you know. Virtually?” you propose, hopefully. 

“Yeah,” Carmy half smiles. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

And as the pandemic drags on, you find yourself FaceTiming with Carmy more and more. Once a week turns into once a week and a consistent exchange of texts. He shares with you the recipes he’s working on. You bounce ideas around with him on dishes he feels stuck on. You send him silly memes and TikToks, even though he refuses to get an account himself. Once a week turns into twice a week, and then phone calls, and soon enough, you don’t go a day without talking to Carmy in some capacity. 

You’re not sure how you’ve done it but you think that maybe you and Carmy just might be friends. 

May 2020: 

“Thanks so much for all the help guys. It means a lot. Especially having two chefs of your caliber,” the volunteer coordinator says, addressing both you and Carmy. 

“Listen, we’re just happy to be a part of something right now. With so much going on… it’s hard to know where to begin helping,” you reply with gratitude. You’re genuinely thankful that you’ve been able to be a part of World Central Kitchen’s COVID relief efforts, and you know Carmy feels the same. 

“We’ll see you guys next Friday?” the volunteer coordinator asks. 

“Heard,” Carmy answers, thanking the coordinator one more time before the two of you leave the building. 

Around the corner, there’s a bench that the two of you find. It’s an easy choice to sit down – neither of you are quite ready to go home yet. You sit on opposite sides before removing your masks as Carmy pulls out a pack of marlboros. 

“You want one?” he asks you, holding out the pack.

“Yeah,” you agree, taking one from him at a distance. You watch him light up, before handing you the lighter he keeps in his jean jacket pocket.

It’s nice to take a moment to pause. Between the chaos of being in a kitchen again to the chaos of the world around you, it feels good to smoke a fucking cigarette on a street corner with the man that’s so unexpectedly become your friend. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the sounds of the city, each others’ company, and your fuckin’ cancer sticks. 

You break the silence between the two of you, letting out the smallest chuckle.

“What?” Carmy asks you, your laugh garnering his attention. 

“It’s just… it’s almost funny,” you say, continuing your giggle. 

“What?” he asks you again, a look of amusement on his face. He can’t imagine what must be so funny. 

“Just… seeing you here… Mr. Fine Dining…makin’ sandwiches,” you tease playfully. “Thought you were too fancy-pants for that.”

“Fuck off,” he rolls his eyes playfully, sucking on his cigarette as he inhales. You laugh again as he shakes his head, shooting you another look. 

He takes his time, exhaling the smoke out in the opposite direction, before addressing your playful remarks. 

“Nah. It uh-, actually reminds me of my family’s place a little. Back home,” he shares with you. 

It catches you off guard. Carmy rarely ever talks about home, let alone his family. 

“Yeah?” you ask curiously, hoping he’ll elaborate.

“Yeah,” he answers with a nod, before placing the cigarette back in between his lips. 

To your disappointment, you realize that’s all he’s planning to share. You resign yourself, taking another drag of your cigarette as the two of you smoke to the sounds of the city. After a long shift at the volunteer kitchen, your exhaustion begins to catch up with you. It’s been a few months since you’ve had to stand for that long, and as exhilarating as it’s been, you can feel the fatigue in your back and your feet already. 

“So… I was thinkin’ about something,” Carmy says, breaking the silence between the two of you. 

You angle your body towards him before asking, “What’s that?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s dumb.” 

He’s suddenly shy, and your eyes flicker over his cheeks that have turned a darker shade of red than they were before. 

“Carmy, what is it?” you ask, leaning towards him, now intrigued.

He avoids your gaze before he replies, “Nah. Nevermind. It’s stupid.” 

“No, it’s not! What is it?” you continue to press him.

You’re not going to let this go. 

“I shouldn't've said anything.” 

He sighs, taking one more drag of his cigarette before leaning forward and tossing it on the ground. His left foot hovers over the cigarette butt as he stamps it out, his forearms resting on his legs as he finally turns to you again. 

“I don’t know how you feel about it, and you can totally say no because like… shit’s still fucked, you know but-,” he starts, shyly. Was Carmy about to ask you out?

 He pauses, his eyes scanning the pavement beneath his feet before saying, “It’s just-, I’m not like, seeing anyone else in person. Except you.”

“Yeah, no me either,” you agree. 

Where was this going?

“Would you maybe wanna-?” he asks, before trailing off, his piercing blue eyes so intense it feels like he’s looking right through you. He nods towards the kitchen before continuing with, “... see each other in person. Like outside of here. As long as we’re being safe you know?” 

You nod, quick to put the poor man at ease, and only a little intrigued as to why it was so difficult for him to ask you that. 

“Yeah no. I’m not seeing anyone else in person either. And at this point if we had COVID, we’d probably already have exposed each other, right?” you reply. 

“Yeah,” he answers. 

“Yeah, I’d be down. To… you know. Maybe move some of our FaceTimes… in person, if that’s what you mean,” you agree, a smile on your face. 

You’re not sure what you expected, but you weren’t expecting for Carmy to ask you to become his quarantine buddy – even if you’d already kind of been doing it anyways. 

“Cool,” he says, taking a breath. 

You can tell that it was a big deal for him – to ask you that – even if he doesn’t want to show it. 

“Can I walk you home?” he asks. 

You smile in return, “Yeah. And if you’re feeling wild… we can… pick something up on the way there. You can come up and hang.”

“No, yeah. That uh-, that sounds great,” he replies, something softer in his eyes this time. “If you don’t mind. I mean-, if you want the company-.”

“Oh shut up, Berzatto,” you roll your eyes at him. You shoot him a look, even though you’re kind of loving this softer side of him. 

“I wouldn’t have offered, if I didn’t.”

July 2020: 

Carmen Berzatto becomes an unexpected yet pleasantly surprising part of your support system, and your COVID-pod. It’s hard to believe that less than a year ago, you thought the man absolutely hated you. He’s still the hot and cold, emotionally turbulent man you met last October, and he’s also become your friend. You’ve learned that he can be soft, that he’s terribly uncomfortable in any and all social situations, and that he’s the most single-minded, driven, obsessed motherfucker you’ve ever met. 

By now, the restaurant has pivoted and reopened for to-gos only. It’s nothing like the fine dining establishment it was before. You’re only open Thursday to Sunday and it’s a much more family style, to-go kit sort of operation these days: to-go cocktail kits, to-go curated menus, to-go assemble your own dishes at home. 

It’s strange. And it’s a strange time for all of you. 

You’re finished with your shift today, ready to head home and spend the next three days off. You’re not sure when you’ll ever get three days off in a row once all of this is over, so you’ve decided that you’re just going to embrace the slower lifestyle right now. You’ve been more creative in this chapter of your life than you can remember. 

“So you layin’ it down for Carmy or what?” a voice asks, jolting you from your thoughts. 

“Excuse me?” you snap, turning your head to a very smug looking Nate Walker, stripping off his face mask.

“What the fuck, man?” Tim exclaims, as he’s changing back into his street shoes. “Not okay to say.”

“What?” Nate defends himself. “I’m just wondering who I have to thank. This is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen the boss man.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “Really nice, Nate.” 

You shake your head, before slinging your backpack over your right arm, exchanging a look with Tim. 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Carmy and I are just friends,” you correct. “Ever think that some time off has been good for all of us and that’s why Carmy’s been chill?”

“‘S not like we’re working at the same capacity we used to be. I think it’s been good for him,” Tim chimes in, trying to offer you a little backup.

“Sure,” Nate replies, unconvinced. 

“What’s it to you anyways, Walker?” Tim asks, putting the spotlight on his coworker. 

“Nothin’,” Nate replies, defensively. “Just noticed you guys spendin’ a lot of time together lately. Besides, the guy could use a good lay.”

“You’re a child,” you snap with an eye roll. You slide your left arm into the other strap of your backpack, ready to leave. “Now if we’re done with the girl talk, I’m going home.”

As you begin to walk away, you can hear Nate defending himself as Tim points out how inappropriate it was for him to say that to you. You’re grateful for people like Tim, because you’re not sure that Nate would listen to anyone else lower in the French brigade system – let alone a woman. 

“We still on for tomorrow?” Carmy asks you, as you're on your way out. He’s still in his chef whites because, as the both of you know, he’s going to be the last person to leave. A smile spreads across your face as soon as you see him. 

That’s right. You’re spending your day off tomorrow with him. 

“Yeah,” you smile with a nod. 

“Mine or yours?” he asks. 

You shoot him a look – a ‘I know you haven’t cleaned up your place’ kind of look. 

“Mine,” you reply. 

“Sweet. There’s a cool market nearby I wanted to check out. I’ll pick somethin’ up on the way,” he says back. 

“Heard.”

You wait a beat before adding, “Try not to work too hard, chef.”

He likes that you’re looking out for him. 

He smiles, “Heard.”

*

As much as you’ve tried not to let Nate Walker get to you, you can’t stop thinking about what he said the day before. Did people think you and Carmy were sleeping together? Did the whole staff think you were trying to sleep your way to the top? Your mind races, and you notice the anxious feelings you have have settled deep in your chest. Carmy moves around your kitchen, intentionally, and while you’d like to enjoy how happy he looks when he cooks for fun, you can’t seem to shut off your brain. 

“You sure I can’t help? I went to culinary school too, yknow?” you ask, trying to put on your best lighthearted tone. 

“Nah,” he dismisses, pulling together a sauce in one of the glass bowls you keep in your kitchen for prep. 

As Carmy steals a glance your way, he’s surprised to find that whatever weight it seems you were carrying when he first walked in, hasn’t gone away. He returns his focus to the stovetop, shaking the stainless clad frying pan that holds his precisely-cut lardons. 

“What’s up?” he asks you, keeping his back to you. 

“Uh… nothing,” you reply, trying your best to shake it off. 

He knows you’re lying, and he turns to look at you again, more intently this time. Your lips are pressed together in a thin line and there’s a new tension knitted between your brows that’s not normally there. As much as you’re trying not to let it get to you, your face betrays you and he knows that something’s been bothering you all day. He shoots you an unconvinced look and you sigh in defeat. 

Since when had Carmy learned what that look meant. 

“Just-, you’re gonna think it’s dumb,” you start, almost embarrassed that you have to bring this up to him. 

“What’s up?” he asks, patiently. 

You shrug, “Just something that Nate said yesterday’s been… bothering me, I guess.”

He rolls his eyes, letting out a dry laugh as he asks you, “Well Nate’s a dick. What’d he say?”

“I-, I don’t know if I should tell you,” you admit hesitantly. 

“Why?” he asks, a pang of nerves hitting him right in the gut. 

You wait a beat, trying to figure out how best to convey what Nate said without freaking Carmy out. 

“He uh… he kind of… suggested that everyone thinks we’re sleeping together?” you say cautiously, your voice going up at the end of the sentence, almost as if it were a question. 

“Oh,” is all Carmy manages to get out. 

“Yeah,” you exhale. 

“Well, we’re not,” Carmy replies, simply. 

Right. 

“Right,” you agree. 

You’re surprised by the feeling of disappointment that wells in your chest in response to Carmy’s reply. This had been eating away at you and for him to shut it down so quickly – like it was that simple – doesn’t quite make sense to you. 

Maybe it’s because men never bear the burden of an inappropriate workplace relationship, not that you’re having one with Carmy, but you know it’d be a bigger cost to you than it’d ever be for him.

“I just…” you start, beginning to understand why it’s bothering you so much. “Do you think… like is it a problem that we’re hanging out? I mean, you are kind of my boss and… I don’t know. I guess we never really talked about the ethical implications of… you know. Us. Being friends. And also working together.”

Friends. 

Right. 

Maybe because it’s because he’s never really had friends, let alone a girlfriend, that catches Carmy off guard.

You’re just friends, motherfucker, Carmy thinks to himself. 

It’s like he’d almost forgotten. 

Perhaps it’s the isolation – the way of the world right now – but he’s never thought about what you were to him. Ever since the two of you had decided to start spending time together, it had been you and him against a very scary and uncertain world. Carmy’s surprised to find that, hearing it said aloud, friends, leaves him with a feeling of dissatisfaction – like the word friend didn’t quite describe the way he felt about you. 

But he’s terrified to think about what that could mean. That anything else would probably scare you away – push you out of his life – and there’s no way in hell he’s going to let that happen right now. 

Because he likes this too much. 

Because he likes who he is when he’s with you. 

Because you’re all he has. 

He pushes the thoughts out of his mind for another time, because right now, you’re sitting right in front of him, and he’s got a problem to solve for you. 

“As long as we’re professional in the kitchen… I don’t see why it should be a problem,” he says. 

You’re not sure how it seems so simple for him, because it doesn’t feel this simple for you. 

“Yeah, no. I-, I agree,” you lie. 

Carmy returns to what he’s doing, and you accept that that’s probably the full conversation that you’re going to have with him. At least right now. You watch as he continues to cook, pulling together the sauce as he tosses the pasta and cheese in your frying pan. You open up your phone, scrolling through a few social media posts to try your best to get your mind off of your worries as Carmy finishes up in your kitchen. 

It’s not long before he’s returned to your small dining table. You set your phone down, watching as he approaches you. 

“I remember you mentioning that it’s hard to find a good carbonara so uh… thought I’d make you one,” he says confidently. Carmy hands you bowl containing a perfectly twirled nest of spaghetti, along with a fork he’d gotten from your kitchen. 

“How do I know it’s gonna be up to my standards?” you challenge him playfully. 

He shoots you a ‘don’t play with me’ kind of look and you giggle in response. You exchange glances with Carmy before messing up the perfectly plated nest by digging your fork into it. 

“Make sure you get a little bit of everything,” he reminds you. He watches as you twirl the spaghetti around your fork, making sure to scoop up a bit of crispy guanciale. You lift the fork to your mouth before taking a bite, your eyes closing as the salty, cheesy, bite hits your tongue. 

It’s perfect.  

“Holy fuck,” you practically moan in response to your first bite. You open your eyes and he smiles back at you, proud of the response he’s earned from you. Your face twists into a look that falls somewhere between ‘this is so good I’m angry and hello, I’ve reached nirvana.’ 

“This-, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m pretty sure your talents are being wasted on fine dining, my friend. This is… this is fucking unreal, dude,” you say, as you continuing processing the most perfect carbonara you’ve ever had in your life. 

“No offense taken,” he says. 

You shake your head at him, “Best carbonara ever.”

September 2020: 

“So we go upstate, and we’re searching for outdoor activities we can do, you know, safely, at a distance, with masks on. And we end up at this goat farm,” Maya says, describing her and her fiance’s last few months spent in upstate New York. 

“...Was the goat named Milo?” Carmy asks, a humorous tone to his question. 

“Carmy!” you exclaim with a laugh, shooting him a look. 

“What?” he asks back. 

Both Liz, Maya, and her fiance Patrick send you questioning looks. 

“I-, it’s an inside joke,” you explain, shaking your head once again in response to Carmy’s very silly interjection. 

“Anyways, it’s so nice to be back in the city. Seriously, Liz, thanks for organizing this,” Maya continues. 

“Oh, I’m kind of getting really into this whole cute picnic thing actually,” she replies, in reference to the picnic she’s organized for the five of you. “Plus, the to-go picnic kit has been killing at the restaurant. Thanks for letting me run with that, chef.”

“No, yeah. You’re killin’ it. It was a great idea,” Carmy compliments. 

The five of you spend time in the park, catching up and enjoying time spent in person for the first time in a long time. You, Liz, and Carmy have been back at work, pushing through, what will hopefully be, the last month or so in the to-go only business at the restaurant. As the sun begins to come down, you all agree that it’s time to pack it up and go home. You’ve begun to collect all of the trash in a brown paper bag as Carmy offers to take it. 

“You sure?” you ask him. 

“Yeah,” he answers. 

As he takes a walk, in search of the nearest trash can, your friends are immediately on you about whatever the hell it is that you and Carmy are doing. 

“So what I’m hearing is… you talk every day, you have inside jokes together, and you’re basically quarantining together. How are you trying to tell us that this man is not your boyfriend?!” Maya exclaims. Her partner shrugs in agreement. 

“I know that what Nate said was hella inappropriate, but he’s not wrong… that this is the most I’ve seen him relaxed in… maybe since we met him,” Liz adds in as your friends make their case. 

“He seems into you,” Patrick offers. 

“I-,” you start, knowing you don’t have much time before Carmy returns. “I don’t know. All I know is… I like what we have. And right now, we’re friends so.”

“God, you’re so good at it,” Maya sighs. 

“What?” you ask, looking from her to Liz as they exchange glances. 

The both turn to you, before saying in unison, “Compartmentalizing!” 

Patrick holds his hands up as he says, “I’m gonna stay out of this one.”

“You ready to go?” Carmy asks, rejoining you and your friends. 

You can practically feel Liz and Maya staring at you. 

“Yeah,” you reply to Carmy. 

You say your goodbyes before going your separate ways, and Maya swears when Carmy isn’t listening that you’re not done talking about this. It’s just been you and Carmy for so long that you hadn’t thought about what it might look like to other people. Now that things were slowly reopening… you were beginning to get more questions, and maybe, you were beginning to have more questions too. 

But the last time you’d tried to bring up any conversation about your relationship with Carmy, he’d shut it down and distracted you with the best carbonara you’ve ever had in your life. Not that you were complaining, definitely not, but you were hesitant to bring it up any time soon.  As Carmy looks at you, there’s something about the way you look against the backdrop of the city, the setting sun, and the sparkling lights, that catches him off guard. He’s not ready to part ways with you yet.

“Can I walk you home?” Carmy offers, hopefully. 

“Sure,” you nod.

read chapter three

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @galaxyprincess51-blog @carmensberzattos

[chvoswxtch]

Court, my queen, congrats on 4k!!! 🫶🫶🫶 May I order a macchiato where Billy introduces the reader to the Castles for the first time?

thank you so much nonnie!

okay i'm setting this in an alternate universe where billy isn't a backstabbing little bitch for my own sanity

headcannon below the cut

billy russo introduces you to the castles

as we all know, billy is a whore. when frank teases him about quality over quantity, billy literally says "god made me this way for a reason, it would be wrong not to share the wealth"

but despite playing up his playboy persona, billy is secretly envious of what frank has

every time he comes over for sunday dinner & sees frank & maria standing side by side in the kitchen, sharing kisses & sweet nothings while doing the dishes together, he feels a deep longing for that same kind of connection

he doesn't want to always be fun uncle billy, he wants more

billy has never brought a girl around the castles bc well...he doesn't keep one around long enough, but that all changes when he meets you

from the moment he meets you, billy can feel a special spark between you. he can't explain it, he's never felt it before, but he knows he doesn't want to lose it

he's not used to someone wanting to be with him just for him. in all his "relationships", he's lured women in with his good looks & charm, & given them a taste of his luxurious lifestyle to have them eating out of the palm of his hand. however, that doesn't work with you, & him showing off actually makes you pull back from him

billy realizes quickly he doesn't know what the fuck he's doing when it comes to having a real, honest relationship, so he turns to the one person he knows can help him: frank

oh and you know frank is absolutely giving him shit & having a fucking field day with it

"billy the beaut comin' to me for advice on women? hell must have frozen over, huh, bill?"

but despite getting a kick out of busting his balls, frank is genuinely happy that billy has found someone, & even maria chimes in with advice & pointers

billy talks about you all the time to them, & he talks about them all the time to you too since they're the only family he has. they've been bugging him for weeks to bring you along for sunday dinner, especially maria. they all wanna meet the girl that's managed to reform billy russo

when he finally agrees to bring you over with him, billy is ecstatic. he can't wait to show you off & watch them fall in love with you too. he can tell that you're nervous considering this is the equivalent of meeting his family, but he reassures you several times on the way over that you've got nothing to worry about

"sweetheart, I don't think you realize they already love you. they just wanna put a pretty face to a name they hear all the time."

sitting there at the dinner table with frank, maria, & the kids & you by his side, it's like something finally hits him. this is it. that thing he's been searching for since he was a kid, that void he's been trying to fill with money & women, the one thing he's truly always wanted; he finally has it

watching you help maria with the dishes, play with the kids in the backyard, trade banter with frank, it all just reinforces that newfound warmth & feeling of fulfillment. this was it, you were it

the raw happiness he feels nearly brings him to his knees, & he has to excuse himself to the bathroom for a moment to collect himself. you fit so perfectly into his life, like you were meant to be there all along. seeing the way you interacted with his chosen family just confirmed it

but what really warmed his heart was the look of joy & excitement on frank & maria's faces. he could see just how happy they were for him. they interacted with you like you had been coming over ever week for dinner for years despite it being their first time meeting you

when billy goes to the kitchen to grab another beer, frank follows him. he just gives him a knowing look & a grin before patting him on the shoulder

"gotta tell ya bill, never thought i'd see the day you actually picked a winner and settled down, but i'm happy for ya. you got a great girl out there. bein' all lovesick looks good on ya."

all throughout dinner, billy holds your hand under the table. there's a moment when frank & maria are talking, & billy's just looking at you like he's in awe. he gives your hand a light squeeze to capture your attention, & when you look at him, he just grins and flashes you a wink

for the first time in his life, billy feels a weight lift off his chest that had always been there, & he feels nothing but pure content, bc he finally has the sense of belonging he's always wanted. he suddenly realizes that he's not alone in this world anymore. he has a family, & he has you