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#usually I am not awake but SOMEONE who I will not name
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My foot has fallen asleep send help
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sinecosinewheel · 1 year
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i finished reading the 489 page transformers essay just now and i watched the first three movies over the last couple days. cinematic garbage. but it compels me
#wheeltext#megatron. i have so many thoughts about megatron.#he was frozen for thousands of years and dehumanized tortured while conscious and killed by a member of the species who tortured him.#that same person was the first person to say his name or treat him as a person in thousands years. and when he broke out the first thing he#did was claim his identity (i am megatron) continuing the conversation he overheard. and it comes out as kind of cavemanish if u take it at#face value as just a standalone statement but after unimaginable isolation and torture having someone go HES megatron. the leader of#the decepticons. was basically a peptalk. 'i am megatron' was him agreeing with that in a language it would be impossible for him to know#if he wasnt awake the whole time. also starscream likes him#starscream is always doing this like cruel toady goon voice and he says shit like oh... you're so wounded. so weak. but i think hes being#completely sincere#ok so if there are billions of transformers (sentinel says more tf than there humans) and the decepticons have won the war then most of#them are decepticons. but in the first movie only like seven guys show up to find megatron? and they just happen to find the cube as well#starscream is the sic usually so if that stays true and megatron has been missin for thousands of years hes been defacto leader for that#long. yet he seems to be part of an unpopular minority of decepticons who wanted to find megatron after hes been mia and presumed dead for#ages. then he helps resurrect him after two years two years in which he would have been the leader again#and when megatron has lost his arm and is horrifically injured starscream doesnt take him out or abandon him he says#not to call you a coward but cowards usually survive and bounces with megatron. then he corners sam (ugh) in the third movie and#ultimately dies. the first thing he says to sam is like finally... you and me. alone. like he has a personal enough vendetta against#sam to hunt specifically him down. but sam has only ever benefited him if all he wants is to lead the decepticons.#nah. hes getting revenge FOR megatron.#megatron sounds fond of starscream when he says blah you fail me me yet again instead of angry and he even jokes when he goes starwcream im#home. he does like beat starscream up a couple times but this is about starscream not wanting megatron dead.#it really really fascinated me why this starscream of all the starscreams was actually loyal to megatron and then it hit me#megatron is skyfire#he was frozen in the arctic for years and starscream has a past fondness for him. megatron is skyfire#which makes all of starscreams weedy goon lines hilarious because he's being completely sincere when he delivers them#anyway the movies are pretty racist unfunny and i hate all of the characters. megatron is goin in the blorbo quarantine kennel
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inkskinned · 9 months
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what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?
i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?
a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?
in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.
girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.
there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.
for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.
something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.
is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.
most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."
a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.
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Hi can we please have fluff w Aventurine where reader and him reunite after 2. 1 and just fucking elope start a new life etc? Please I need it.
God yes. This is what we all need after 2.1. I'm aware he is in a coma-like state technically now but for the sake of fluff and this headcanon he is awake from that coma and is now reuniting with you. CW: Spoilers for 2.1 and Aventurines actual name, starts angsty but then turns fluffy, Gn reader, pre established relationship hurt/comfort
I am still accepting requests (especially for aven) btw so if you wanna see something send it in!
Back in your arms
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You had lost track of how long it was since Aventurine left for his mission in Penacony. Has it been 2 months? No, probably more. It had been months since you last had been able to make contact with him. Your messages no longer went through, unable to be sent.
Looking at your textlog and scrolling up, you came across the last message he had sent you. It had come in while you were asleep, and it simply read “I love you”.
Waking up to that message would have been a sweet message for most people, but for you it had made you immensely worried.
 Aventurine was never someone who professed his love openly, so such messages were quite rare. Receiving such a message, especially unprompted, made you send him a barricade of texts, none of which went through and even now months later none were able to be sent.
If you were honest you were starting to lose hope of ever seeing him again, who knows what happened in Penacony after all? He could be…dead for all you knew, you had no way to verify whether that was true or not after all. 
You tried continuing your life on as you would normally, what else could you do? It was hard though, everyday you missed him more and more. Sometimes you imagined his face in a crowd somewhere but whenever you would take a closer look he would vanish.
Sighing you closed your phone and looked around your apartment, it felt so liveless ever since Aventurine was gone. Tears were falling down your eyes as you wondered how much longer you had to live with the uncertainty of where he was and if he was even alive.
Exhaustion was taking over as you began falling asleep. A common occurrence nowadays, since at night you were restless, unable to fall asleep as you worried. Just as you were beginning to fully doze off, you heard the door to your apartment open, immediately waking up.
No one but you and Aventurine had the key, and with him being absent panic coursed through you thinking someone was breaking and entering. You grabbed the nearest heavy thing to defend yourself with.
“For fucks sake…” You muttered as you made your way to where the noises were coming from. Cursing every entity out there for piling even more shit onto you as if your significant other being possibly dead wasn’t enough.
Readying your weapon (probably a heavy book) you stepped foot into the room where the noise was coming from ready to attack and hit the intruder. But once you saw who it was that was in your appartment, you dropped your makeshift weapon, a sob escaping your mouth.
Before you stood Aventurine, alive and breathing. You rubbed your eyes, making sure that this wasn’t your mind playing a cruel trick on you again. Aventurine watched you with a smirk on his, albeit very exhausted looking, face and his eyes held a new found softness you had never seen before.
You fell into his arms immediately, holding him tightly against your body, feeling his warmth. Desperately you grabbed at his clothes as you held on to him, scared this was all just a dream and you would wake up all alone once again. Tears were falling from your eyes, unable to hold them back, the relief washing over you making you let out all of your emotions.
“Wow you missed me that much?” He asked, in his usual teasing tone. Though there was something in his voice that usually wasn’t there. Desperation and a bit of fear. Was he afraid you wouldn’t have missed him? Or was there a deeper reason for it?
Moving away from the hug you grabbed his face in your hands, the tears still falling from your eyes as you took a good look at him. His face had fallen in, and he seemed exhausted. But there was also something in his eyes, his beautiful eyes you were so sure you would never see again, that you couldn’t recognize, having never seen it on him before.
Before you spoke your first words to him, you pulled his face closer and gently kissed him. The feeling of his lips on yours felt like you were floating in heaven. They may have been more chapped than usual, but fuck was it nice to feel him again.  Breaking the kiss you finally were able to muster up your first words to him.
“Fuck…I was so worried about you…I…When my messages stopped being able to sent I was…so sure you…Please…never worry me like that again Aventurine…”
You leaned your forehead against his, your words jumbled together from the adrenaline coursing through you.
He took in a deep breath, and held it for a moment before letting it out. A gesture you saw in many people before they needed to say something important and heavy, but one you never saw in your lover.
“...Kakavasha…” His voice seemed unsure and meek as he spoke. 
You, of course, had no idea what he was saying, so you looked into his eyes confused.
“Wha-”
“Kakavasha…it is…my given name. The one my mother gave me” He inhaled deeply before he continued.
“It is a long story but the short version is…I am no longer affiliated with the IPC, they probably think I died or something. So I no longer go by Aventurine, and…with how close we are and how much you mean to me. I felt like it was appropriate for you to know my true name...”
His eyes refused to look at you, flickering about unsurely as he spoke. Though he tried to sound confident, his voice wavered, scared that you would not accept him for who he truly was and reject his true self.
You looked at him gently and with all the love you had for him, gently pulling him close again and kissing his nose.
“Well then…It is nice to meet you Kakavasha…” You smiled brightly at him, showing him you accepted him as he was.
He felt relief course through his body and could not help himself but pull you into a passionate kiss. He kissed you like you were the oxygen he needed to stay alive. As if he would die without you.
Breaking the kiss he whispered “Marry me.” It wasn’t a question but a request. One that you were too stunned to answer to, looking at him with wide eyes.
“I mean it. Let’s get married, run away from everything and start a new life just you and me.”
His eyes were pleading with you to agree. He knew that he wanted to start over, but he knew he needed you with him.
“...yes!!” You once again fell into his arms and kissed him. The two of you holding each other so closely it was as if you were one.
Kakavasha knew that he would need to tell you everything that happened in Penacony at one point, even the part where he tried to end his life. But he knew that if he explained everything to you, you would still stay by his side and be with him. 
You were his family after all.
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familyvideostevie · 4 months
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it's your turn for choosing
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this was born out of a prompt request from my dear, dear, @softlyspector. this is for you, becca!
getting asked out via a smudgy scribble on a coffee cup | valentine's day prompts
joel miller x reader
summary/warnings: joel stops by your coffee shack every day. it's not your fault you're a little in love with him because of it. | modern au, fluff, flirting, jesse and cat and ellie cameos, game!joel in my head. i have not been a barista so sorry to all baristas if this reads wildly off-base. | 5.6k
a/n: it's giving rom-com! happy valentine's day. a bit different from my usual fare but hopefully it makes your heart warm. love u. thank u always to @macfrog and @bageldaddy for your eyes.
___
7:32 am. It’s helpful in this line of work to know exactly when you’re fucked. 
The espresso machine has been on the fritz all week and despite how much you want your current method of fixing it to work – banging a fist on the top until it stops wheezing – all signs point to today being a very bad day indeed. 
You’ve only been open for two hours. 
Here for three, awake for four. God, you’re tired.
Anyway – you’re fucked. And there’s nothing you can do about it. 
You call the time of death on the machine and search for something you can write on.
The Zone – a stupid name, but you can’t be bothered to change the sign that came with the place – is a coffee shop that sits between towns. 
Your coffee shop. 
It's more shack than shop, not really a zone of anything, just an order window and a five-drink menu. It's the kind of place that appears like a mirage for tourists right before they get on the highway at an ungodly hour and serves as a quick stop for everyone else. You open earlier than any other place around to get the truckers and the farmers and close when you stop being able to keep your eyes open.
The faded brown clapboard building is no bigger than an RV. The paint is chipped and the roof is a too-bright shade of green and you serve your drinks and the occasional sweet treat when you can get a good deal off of the baker two towns over through a window. It’s not a fancy chain, it’s not a drive-thru. You’ve got a bathroom and a few rickety cafe tables and chairs and no fucking common sense since you like it. 
You even love it, some days.
And the craziest part is that it works. Even on mornings like this one, when your espresso machine breaks during the lull between rushes and your part-time help calls in sick and you’ve spilled coffee all over your apron twice – it works. 
You tear off the lip of a cardboard box and write in big block letters: NO ESPRESSO TODAY. Maybe Tess, the baker, knows someone who can fix it. She knows everyone.
“Fuck you, you piece of junk,” you say. You give the machine another smack for good measure. 
Someone clears their throat and you whirl around, makeshift sign in hand. 
You’ve been doing this long enough that a handsome customer doesn’t phase you, but the man standing at your order window makes your stomach swoop for just a second.
“Morning,” you say, summoning your smile. “Hold on a sec, let me just –”
You lean out the window and wedge the piece of cardboard against the napkin holder on the ledge.
The man’s gaze drops to read. You take the opportunity to look at him. 
He’s tall and broad – if you had to guess, you’d say he works on one of the farms around here. He’s tan, dark hair threaded through with grey. His arms are crossed and you wish he wasn’t wearing a jacket so you could see his forearms. His denim shirt is undone at the top and you fixate on the chorded column of his throat, on the teasing glimpse of chest hair underneath.
The guy looks tired. 
Bone-tired, the kind of exhaustion you see when you look in the mirror. It comes from hundreds of early mornings and late nights, from hours on your feet and plenty of worry. He’s got lines at the corners of his eyes and a few around his mouth and you find yourself hoping they’re from laughter. 
“No espresso,” he reads, slow and unhurried. His drawl fits in with most of the folks around here, but you’re sure you haven’t seen him before. You’d remember. 
“Hope that doesn't scare you off,” you say. “Still got everything else.”
“Everything else being…” He glances at the chalkboard that serves as your menu.
DRIP COFFEE. LATTE. CAPPUCCINO. TEA. HOT CHOCOLATE. All written in your blocky hand in white paint. 
“Three options.”
Trial and error have taught you that simple works best. You’ll make anything people ask for, so long as you know how and have the supplies, and if they’re nice about it you won’t charge too much extra.
“Can I get you one of those three options?”
You’re not trying to rush him, but the next wave of people is bound to show up any minute.
“Black coffee will do,” he says. His mouth tugs up at the corner into a smirk that makes your face feel hot. “If you have that.”
“Thank you for taking pity on me,” you say, going for teasing and missing the mark by a mile. You just sound tired and genuine. “You just made my morning.”
He looks amused and you turn from him, unable to hide your grin. You pour a steaming cup and snap the lid on.
“Pretty shit morning if this is makin’ it,” he drawls.
You hand him the cup and your fingers brush. 
“You have no idea.”
He eyes the sign again and then your stained apron. “I got some notion.” He tugs his wallet from his back pocket and pulls out a $5 bill. “Keep the change,” he says.
You want to refuse, to thank him, but a few more cars pull up and Mr. Black Coffee just raises his cup to you and heads back to his truck.
Well, shit. You hope he comes back. A tipper like that, and hot? You sure wouldn’t mind if he became a regular customer. __
You call Tess that afternoon and she does know a guy, so the espresso machine gets fixed and things go back to normal. Your part-time help returns in the morning and nothing else breaks. 
Today is uncharacteristically warm for the season. The inside of The Zone is almost stifling, always at least 15 degrees warmer than outside, and you keep wiping your sweaty hands on your apron as you make espresso after espresso for the lunch crowd.
Cat, a spunky girl who likes to practice her latte art when it’s slow, takes orders at the register. You keep half of your attention on her and half on the four drinks you’re working on. 
“Black coffee, please,” someone says to her. Someone whose voice you recognize. 
“Can I get a name for that?” Cat asks. It’s busy enough that calling names is easier than calling orders, no matter how small your menu is.
“Joel,” he says. You let the milk steam on its own and pour the black coffee before Cat can do it.
“I’ve got it,” you tell her. “Can you finish up those drinks?”
She shrugs and you swap places. You know you’re sweaty and coffee-stained but you smile at him and hand over his coffee.
“Hot coffee on a day like this?” you tease. He – Joel – is sweaty, too. The collar of his work shirt is dark with sweat and his hair is a mess. He must be here on his lunch break. He takes the cup from you and slurps a long sip as a reply to your question. 
You laugh. Joel looks pleased. 
“Operatin’ a full menu, I see,” he says, pulling out another $5. “Glad you got it fixed.”
“It’s still a piece of junk,” you shrug. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that.”
He waves off your offer of change and raises his cup at you, taking a few steps backward towards his truck.
“Thank you,” he says. He eyes the tag on your chest and tacks your name on at the end. It sounds good from his mouth.
“Bye, Joel,” you say. His lips twitch but you barely have time to think about it before you have to take the next few orders. 
The line dies down and you step away from the register to help Cat with some cappuccinos – your least favorite drink by far due to all the damn foam they require – and she eyes you.
“Dude,” Cat says. “What the hell was that?”
If it wasn’t already a billion degrees in here you know your face would feel hot. 
“What the hell was what?”
She can’t reply for a few seconds while you grind beans for some espresso.
“I didn’t even know you knew how to flirt,” she muses, tapping a frother full of milk a few times. “That was pretty bad flirting if you ask me –”
You turn the grinder on again to drown her out.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you yell. She rolls her eyes at you until you turn off the machine.
You tamp down the grounds and slot them into the machine.
“I mean, not my type at all, for like, so many reasons,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Way too old for me, for one. Man, for another. But I see the appeal, I guess. Seems like he likes you. And was that a five-dollar bill? Black coffee is two bucks, last time I checked –”
“Can we get back to steaming milk, please?” you snap, more embarrassed than mad. “I am not taking flirting advice from a teenager.”
“I’m twenty!” she sputters. “Wait, so you admit that you like him?”
“Milk.”
Cat is right, though, and you know it. You just don’t see any harm in having a crush on some guy who comes to your coffee shop. Running this place means you see hundreds of people every day. You know their names, you ask them about their kids and their pets and their jobs, and you smile at them even on your bad days. It’s just part of the job. The daily interactions keep you afloat, make you feel more solid in your own life. People see you, they recognize you, they know you – even if it’s just because you make them coffee. 
Maybe Joel will keep coming back. Maybe he’ll become one of the regulars you know things about.
And if you have a crush on him? 
No harm done. He’s nice to look at.
And he tips well.
__
Joel stops by again. 
And again. 
And again.
He comes in every morning – sometimes at lunch – and orders the same thing. You learn the rumble of his truck by ear alone, the crunch of his boots on the gravel. Sometimes people in line say hi to him and a smile works its way onto your face on instinct when his voice reaches your ear. It’s never slow enough to have a proper conversation but he smiles at you, tells you he likes the flowers, your new apron. 
All of it is flirting but maybe not flirting. 
Maybe he’s just being polite.
Also, he keeps overpaying. 
One day, almost a month since you first saw him, he doesn’t come in the morning.  When you don’t see him in line at lunch, either, you’re a little disappointed. The weather is perfect – not too hot, not too cold, the sun shining – and you want to see him in the sunlight.
The day crowd is long gone and you’re only an hour or two from closing when his truck pulls up.
“I was getting worried,” you call as he walks over. Usually, he’s got some kind of dust or paint or something on them – Joel is a contractor, you’ve learned through your brief encounters, not a farmer – but today his clothes are clean and un-ripped. 
“I’m honored,” he says. 
You have his cup ready by the time he reaches the window. 
“I’m just surprised you can get through the day without a cup of coffee.”
He snorts and hands you his cash. 
“I can’t,” he says. “Had shitty home brew this morning.”
He takes a sip of your coffee and sighs. Your heart picks up and you don’t hide your grin.
“What’s with the schedule change?” you ask. 
He smirks. “Miss me?” 
You scoff and cross your arms. Heat rises in your chest and you feel almost giddy. 
“Just curious,” you say. “Don’t let it go to your head, but you’re my favorite customer.”
Joel laughs and scratches the back of his neck. 
“Reckon that’s the tip.”
“Actually, ordering a cup of black coffee is the way to any barista’s heart.”
Joel’s eyebrows climb up his forehead. 
“Ah,” he says. He takes another sip, his eyes dancing with mirth. “‘Course.”
“Nah,” you say with a teasing smile. “I’d never be so shallow.”
There’s no line behind him but you expect him to go back to his truck, anyway. But here he is. Talking to you.
You grab a rag and wipe down the counter to keep your hands busy. 
“I’m, uh. Meetin’ one of my kids here,” Joel says. The sudden shyness that accompanies his admission is a surprise. 
Your eyes dart to his hand but you see no ring, nor the pale shadow of one. 
“Both of ‘em moved to the city recently. Ellie – she’s comin’ up for the night.”
“I’ll bet you miss them,” you offer. You’re not sure why he’d want to bring his daughter to your coffee shack, but you’re not complaining.
Joel smiles at you. It’s a sad smile but still a good one. The affection in his eyes is raw. 
“Sure do,” he says. He tucks one hand in his pocket and takes another sip of his coffee. “But it’s good for them. Sarah – she’s a little older – is in school and Ellie is workin’ on her music and whatever else she’s into these days.” The pride in his voice is clear. 
“Well, I’m honored you want to bring her here.” You gesture to your slightly sad sitting area and the empty lot behind him. 
Joel looks ready to argue with you when a faded, older version of his truck pulls up. Music leaks from the open windows and the driver bops her head to the beat a few times before shutting it off and hoping out, thumbs flying on the screen of her phone. 
“That’ll be her,” he says drily. “Hey, kiddo.”
Ellie looks up from her hands, tucks her phone in her back pocket, and grins at Joel.
She doesn’t look a thing like him, but the connection is obvious. She moves like him, her shoulders set like she’s ready for a challenge at any moment. Joel sets his coffee down at the window and meets her halfway for a hug.
You look away and busy yourself with restocking whatever you can get your hands on.
“Dude, you come here every day?” Ellie asks. “Joel, this is so far from –”
Joel talks over her.
“Drive go okay? Sarah said they’re doin’ shit on the 35 –”
Ellie huffs.
“Yeah, yeah, some traffic getting out of the city ‘cause of the fucking lane closure, but otherwise fine.”
“Good.”
You turn to face them, a genuine smile firmly in place. 
“Hi,” you say. Joel picks up his coffee again, which Ellie eyes with a scowl. You introduce yourself to her. “You’re Ellie, right? I’ve heard a lot about you.” 
Ellie frowns. Behind her, Joel’s mouth twitches but he says nothing. It’s a lie, obviously, but something tells you he doesn’t mind and she believes it.
“Really?” She throws him a glare and then rolls her eyes. “You gotta stop telling strangers about me, man.”
“Someone’s gotta warn ‘em,” he says. 
She laughs. “Hey, fuck you!”
“Only good stuff,” you say. You like her. “Joel says you’re working on your music?”
Ellie’s eyes light up. “Oh, yeah,” she says. “I’ve got an audition next week.” She turns to Joel. “I brought my guitar ‘cause I have a fuck ton of songs to play for you.”
He puts a hand on her shoulder and she settles a little.
“I bet they’re real good.”
Ellie flushes and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well. You have to hear them first.”
You feel a little off-balance again, like you’re on the fringes of something you shouldn’t be seeing. The love on Joel’s face is clear as day. 
“Do you want some coffee?” you ask her.
Joel winces. Ellie gags. 
“No offense,” she starts, eyes darting between you and Joel. “I know Joel is fifty percent coffee on a good day, but it’s not my thing.” She looks at the menu and narrows her eyes. “I had a mocha the other day and didn’t hate it. Do you make those?”
“Look at that,” Joel says. “You’re convertin’.”
“Am not,” Ellie says. “It’s got chocolate in it, dude. No shit, I like it.”
“Yeah, give me a few minutes,” you laugh. “I’ll put lots of chocolate in it.”
They sit at one of your tables and you hear their laughter in the background as you make her drink.
It’s strange to see Joel like this – to build up on the man you’ve imagined him to be in your mind. Father never occurred to you. It makes sense, though, like a missing piece of him slotted into place. But it also makes the crush feel a little more real. Now that he’s more than your favorite regular customer. Now that you know a piece of him, of who he really is. 
It makes you want to know more.
You finish her drink and call Ellie’s name. They both stand and Joel digs in his wallet again.
“Don’t you dare pay me, Joel,” you say. You direct your next words at Ellie. “Really. I’m just honored you stopped by.”
She eyes Joel and he eyes her right back with the same look. She must have learned it from him.
“Yeah,” she says. “Me too.” She grins at you with all of her teeth. “Joel loves this place. Talks about it all the time.”
She takes a sip of her mocha and her eyes go wide.
“Wait, this is fucking good. Man, I see why you drive –”
Joel clears his throat.
“We’re off,” he says. “Thank you, as always.” He sounds softer than usual as if being nice to his daughter is the best thing you could do for him.
You suppose it is.
“You’re welcome, as always.” 
Ellie knocks her shoulder with Joel’s as they head back to their trucks. She must be whispering something to him because he swats her away with a groan and she cackles. 
They both wave at you as they drive away. 
__
Joel keeps coming in the mornings, and your conversations return to their fleeting cadence. Even so, it’s hard to deny that your crush on him has kicked into high gear.
You try not to let your gaze linger on his lips, on his throat. On his hands when he takes the cup from you, how your skin brushes and it makes you warm all over. You think about how he laughed, how relaxed he was around Ellie. You want to know what he’s like outside of your small daily interaction. You want to know what he eats for dinner, how he spends his weekends, what he listens to on the radio.
You want him.
Business is busy, which helps. A kid from a few towns over – Jesse, he’s called – signs on to work part-time, mostly for the second half of the day. He’s been a barista before so the training is minimal, but it still changes the flow of things. He’s a charming guy and the regulars take to him easy enough.
It’s you who is distracted. 
One morning, Joel comes in as expected. Jesse is working, too, trying to clock some extra hours this week.
Joel is on the phone in line, his attention somewhere else. He’s frowning, a deep crease between his brows as he waits in line. All it would take to smooth it away is the press of your thumb. 
You try not to stare and probably fail, but manage to take and make the orders ahead of him without making any mistakes, though your whole body feels alight.
He hangs up right as he gets to the window and sighs, giving you a tired smile.
“Howdy,” he says. You set his coffee down in front of him and he pulls out a ten-dollar bill instead of a five.
“Joel –” you say, but he interrupts you.
“My brother called and said he needs breakfast,” Joel grumbles. “Y’got any of Tess’s bear claws?”
Right, they work together, you remember. He’s mentioned Tommy in passing. 
“I think so, just hold on a sec.”
“Take your time,” Joel says. It sounds like he means it, even though there’s a line behind him and he probably needs to get to work. 
You do find a few bear claws in the box Tess gave you early this morning when you stopped by the bakery.
“You’re in luck,” you say, putting it in a paper bag. “Well, Tommy is.”
“Savin’ my ass,” he tells you when you hand it to him. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
The word sends a jolt of lightning through your whole body. He doesn’t even seem to realize he’s said it but your world shifts slightly on its axis. Sweetheart.
He turns on his heel before you can give him change for his cash, his phone ringing.
“Jesus, Tommy, I said I’d –”
You let him fade into the distance and smile at your next customer.
“How can I help you?”
A few orders later you end up next to Jesse making some lattes.
“Was that Joel Miller?” Jesse asks. “Before. The guy with the black coffee and bear claw?”
You startle. “Um. It was. How do you –”
“I didn’t know he was a customer here,” Jesse says. “Does he come in a lot?”
You unpack a few more cinnamon buns that Tess gave you this morning. “Yeah, every day.”
“Damn,” he says. “He must really like your coffee.”
“Are you trying to say it’s bad coffee, Jesse?”
He huffs a laugh. “No, boss, ‘course not.” He grinds beans for a few seconds but continues once he’s done, steady hands tamping down the results. “I just know he lives like, a half-hour away. And that there are plenty of coffee shops there, too.”
You narrow your eyes. “How do you know him, Jesse?”
“His daughter, Ellie, is a friend of mine,” he shrugs. “Went over to their house plenty of times in high school.”
“Well. He’s a contractor, right? I bet he has a job out here.”
Jesse clips the espresso into the machine and starts on some milk. 
“I’m not saying he doesn’t,” he muses. “I am saying that it takes at least 30 minutes to get here from where he lives.”
It’s silly. You’re half-flattered, half-confused. Yeah, you like Joel, and yeah, you’re pretty sure you’ve been flirting every day for over a month. But you figure it’s convenient for him. Coffee and an ego boost all in one. 
But if he’s going out of his way to come to The Zone? Well, maybe it’s not just for the coffee.
“Your coffee is good,” Jesse stresses, seeing the gears in your mind turning. It looks like he’s trying to hide a grin. You need to stop hiring young people who have keen eyes and big mouths.
“I think the ice needs a refill,” you say, snapping back into focus. 
“He might be here for something else, too -”
“Go refill the ice.”
He throws up his hands with a smirk. “I’m going!”
__
7:24 am. You’re on your own again and you’re fucked. 
The espresso machine is working perfectly and the early rush has ended. The weather is beyond shitty. Rain falls in sheets and the sky is so dark it feels like the sun didn’t bother to rise. It pounds on the roof and blows in the window every time you open it. The awning does nothing to shield customers as they shout their orders over the wind at you. Your fingers are going numb and your front is damp enough to set your teeth chattering. 
Joel’s truck pulls up and – well. You’re fucked. And he’s why.
You’re fucked because you can’t stop thinking about him. You can’t stop thinking about what Jesse said. What Joel said. Sweetheart.
A harmless crush turned into something more intense, something heavy in your stomach. You want him earnestly, fully, with every piece of you. 
And you still barely know him. But you want to. 
Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the fact that you’re damp and cold and frustrated with your own heart and brain. But you see his truck and you decide to do something about this stupid crush.
You write your phone number on a cup with steady hands and set it aside for Joel. You scrawl on it as neatly as you can: Want to get a drink somewhere else sometime? 
It’s a bit of a coward’s way out. You should just ask him, say how you feel to his face. He’d probably like that better, anyway. But, well, this just feels safer. He could ignore it, he could throw it out, he could see it and decide to never come back. 
Sweetheart.
Somehow you don’t think he’ll do any of those.
The rain lashes against the window so hard you don’t open it until you see the lonely figure approach. The morning rush has been a morning trickle, a few brave souls venturing out for something from you.
Joel, it seems, is one.
You open the window and are greeted with a spray of mist.
“Gimme a sec,” you tell him. It’s so windy he leans in close to hear you. He’s wearing a jacket that’s ill-suited for the rain, his hair plastered to his forehead. Your fingers twitch with the need to brush it back. 
You quickly fill the cup you’ve set aside and pass it to him with two hands so it doesn’t blow over.
“Brave of you,” you say. He’s in the rain and you’re both getting soaked but you want to talk to him desperately. It’s a buzzing need at the front of your brain. “Thought the weather would get you, too.”
“Told you,” he all but yells over the wind with a flash of white teeth. “Shitty coffee at home.”
“Drive safe, Joel,” you tell him. He nods at you and jogs back to the truck, cup in hand. You won’t be able to see if he reads it from here, but you hope so. All you have to do is wait.
And wait.
And wait.
The rain stops.
You’re still waiting, phone silent.
Sunshine peeks through the clouds with a slightly surreal post-storm glow. A few more folks have made their way to The Zone but today has been slow. The clock ticks slowly towards 3 pm and your phone does not ring.
“Don’t be stupid,” you mutter. “He’s working.” 
You step out of the shack and into the slightly humid air, the gravel under your feet shifting wetly. The tables you’d set out this morning are, mercifully, still there, though they’re spattered with rain. You might as well close up now.
You’re bent over the last of the chairs, wiping them down with an old rag. You’re focused, so much so that you don’t pay much attention to the hum of an engine and the crunch of tires behind you.
A door slams but you don’t turn around.
“Sorry,” you call over your shoulder. “We just closed.”
“Shame,” he says. 
You whip around and find Joel, hands in his pockets. He’s in a different shirt than this morning and his jeans don’t look soaked. You’re still damp, water stains on your pants and shirt.
“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi, Joel.”
He smirks. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you outside of that window,” he says, before jutting his chin towards the tables. “Can I help?”
You’re very aware of your whole body all at once. He’s looking at you, drinking you in like you’re his morning cup of coffee.
“Uh, sure,” you say. You want to ask why he’s here but the words won’t come. “They go in there, in the little closet on the right.” You point to the open door to the shack.
He dips his chin low just once and then crosses the distance between you in three big strides. He grabs the chair closest to you. The t-shirt he’s wearing shows his arms and you feel what he’s just said – it’s weird to be in the same space like this. You’re outside but he feels so big.
Joel’s arms flex and you swallow, following him with another chair. He stacks his in the right place and holds a hand out for yours.
“What did you write on it?” he asks, casually. 
The words don’t totally register. “What?”
He doesn’t answer. His arms are crossed, brow furrowed. Your mouth goes dry.
“On my cup. This mornin’.” He keeps his gaze on yours and for some reason, you can’t look away.
“Oh – you, you didn’t see?” 
He shakes his head. “Was rainin’, remember? Got smudged before I got in my truck.”
“Right.” 
You tear yourself away and leave him standing there. Maybe you should just lie.
But then you think about the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when you make him laugh, and how he asks you how you are and how he brought his daughter here and how he tips and how he drives all this way for your – for you.
Joel waits, his footsteps the only indication he’s followed you.
You turn around.
“I wrote my phone number,” you say. “And I asked you on a date.”
The corner of his mouth pulls up and you think he’s…blushing?
He rubs a hand over his beard and you hope he’s hiding a smile. Your heart is in your throat, beating so loud you worry that he can hear it. All of your bravado sinks into the damp ground at your feet. Maybe you’ve read this totally wrong. Maybe he’s just a nice guy, maybe your coffee is just really good and your employees are fucking with you. He’s here to let you down easy, to tell you he’s not even available, not interested, not –
“Alright,” Joel says. He walks towards you and tugs his phone from his back pocket. “I’ll take that number.”
Oh.
He hands it over and you type it in, heart jackhammering in your chest. But you watch his face, see the quirk of his mouth and his blush and it makes you brave.
“And the date?” you ask, giving it back. Your fingers brush and your heart keeps pounding but your nerves take a sharp turn away from doubt and towards excitement.
“Well, you gonna ask again?”
You both seem to have found your footing with whatever this is. The flirt in him is back full force, and he’s looking at you in that way of his. You want to know all of his expressions. There is so much to learn.
“Are you going to say yes?”
“S’why I came back,” he admits. “Figured you’d be closin’. Hoped you’d be free.”
“So you could read the cup?”
Joel takes the other two chairs and heads for the door again. You trail him. God, his arms are distracting. 
“Most of it,” he says. “Couldn’t make out the last few numbers, though.”
“Well, once we’re done here, I’m free. If you wanted to go on a date with me.”
Joel turns and you’re in the small space at the same time, your chests almost pressed together. You must smell like sweat and stale coffee but you watch as Joel inhales, eyes on yours.
“I do,” he says. 
It would be so easy to kiss him, a quick, chaste press of your lips to see what he tastes like.
His pupils dilate and you sway into him for a breath before you realize what you’re doing and step back outside.
You take a deep breath of fresh air. “Great.”
He rubs the back of his neck with one hand and you head for the tables. 
“Y’know,” he says. “Ellie’s been on my ass about this.”
You laugh, high and bright. “Has she?”
“That girl ain’t capable of missin’ an opportunity to stick her nose in,” he grumbles, but it’s affectionate. 
“Well, I think she’s smart,” you goad. 
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Reckon she is.”
Joel’s brows furrow and he takes a few quick steps into your space, so close the tips of your shoes almost touch.
“Oh,” you breathe. “Hi.”
“Hold still,” he says. He reaches for your face slowly, slow enough that you could pull away but you don’t. He brushes something from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.
“Grounds.” His voice is a little hoarse.
“Thanks,” you breathe. 
He smirks but the flush creeping up his neck tells you he’s not wholly unaffected. It makes you feel…it just makes you feel. 
Joel Miller likes you.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” you say.
His eyes widen slightly and he leans in just a little but you slide out of his space with a grin.
“The sooner we finish up the sooner I can buy you a drink.”
Joel laughs, loud and full. “Oh, how generous of you.”
“You’re very lucky,” you say.
“I agree,” he drawls. He taps your chin with one knuckle.
His eyes sparkle and he smiles, looking luminous in the post-storm sunshine. You see a flash of a future – watching him drink coffee in a kitchen instead of through the window of The Zone. Your hands meeting over a shared table, fingers tangling, that smile directed at you in the morning light. 
Giddiness rises in your throat and spills out of you in a delighted laugh of your own. Joel just grins.
“So,” he says. “Where’re you takin’ me?”
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!
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unoislazy · 7 months
Text
Jealousy Looks Good On You
Mizu x Jealous! Reader
Summary: You and Mizu have been close friends for quite some time. You truly enjoyed each others company, that was until Taigen showed up.
Disclaimers; light language, has not been proofread, I am currently delirious from packing and moving all day but I had to write this out to feed the starved mizu lovers. A fair amount may not make sense at this point in time. My apologies ❤️
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You and Mizu have been friends for a while now. Honestly you were surprised you could even say that. Mizu was not someone who would openly accept friendship applications on a daily basis, they usually wouldn’t even talk to people unless it was absolutely necessary. But somehow, despite this, you had gotten past that wall and weaseled your way into becoming her friend.
That was how you viewed it at least, you liked to think that she at least enjoyed your company seeing as she had yet to just up and leave you randomly, which she very well could successfully do if she wanted. You two had learned a lot about each other through late night talks and just general conversations. You of course, had learned about her secret, and you vowed to keep it from anyone else that would cross your path. She in turn had learned a lot about you, things about your past, your likes and dislikes, the usual things that a companion would know.
However, there was one thing she didn’t know about you and you planned to keep it that way. You had been traveling alongside Mizu since you two had crossed paths in a town that she did not intend to stay long in.
Since then you had always admired Mizu for her skills with a sword. That admiration eventually turned to something much stronger.
You would never admit it outloud but you had developed a small crush on the blue eyed woman, and in all honesty it was pretty hard to keep it under control.
Your dynamic had just been you and her for a long time and once Ringo was added to the group it only added to your enjoyment. You loved spending time with them. You honestly found it pretty adorable how Ringo persistently followed the two of you around, just as you had once done to Mizu well before him.
However, once Taigen joined… things changed.
He was never supposed to stay this long, the only reason he did was because Mizu had saved him when escaping that stupid tower. You wanted to go with her, you pleaded with her to take you with her to at least have some back up in case something went wrong but she refused. She wouldn’t give you any other reasoning than, “I need you to stay here.”
No matter how many times you asked why, she would just give you the same answer until you listened. She didn’t want you to go along with her, she wanted to do this alone. And yet when you and Ringo had found her, was she alone?
No… of course not.
He was there with her.
You didn’t recognize him at first of course, you simply thought him to be some random man Mizu thought it was in her best interest to save. In the time you knew Mizu, that didn’t happen often.
You and Ringo had managed to get them both out of the icy water and make your way to the sword fathers house, keeping them both as warm as you possibly could while in such a state.
It wasn’t until Mizu had initially woken up did you finally find out who the man was.
“You’re awake.” You exclaimed, making your way over to a very dreary Mizu who was trying to prop herself up. You smiled, feeling a sudden wave of instant relief as she looked up at you,
“Is Taigen awake.” Were the first words to come out of her mouth.
“Taigen?” You asked, the name felt familiar but you couldn’t tell from where.
“He’s not awake yet.” Ringo answered, he was still very upset with Mizu after their last meeting and that would’ve been clear to anyone just through his tone of voice.
Taigen… Taigen… where have you heard that name?
That’s when you realized, on one of your very late night talks, Mizu had opened up to you a bit about her childhood. In the tale she told, one name continued to pop out.
Taigen.
The kid who was absolutely ruthless to her. All because of the color of her eyes. You remembered just from listening to the story, the anger you felt for Mizu, but even as she was telling the story she didn’t seem quite bothered by it. You supposed she’d have had a lot of time to think about it to the point the memories no longer brought up any emotions.
You looked away from Mizu and turned to the man who was resting quite peacefully not too far away from her. Your astonished gaze turned to a very clearly displeased glare. Never in your life would you think that you wouldn't end up coming across this man, not once, but twice. You had seen the man before, he had shown up a few other times before this, the only reason you hadn’t reacted as harshly was because you didn’t know who he was. You guessed you hadn’t recognized him this time due to the amount of bruising he sustained from his stay at the tower.
Deserved, in your opinion.
Once Mizu had woken up, she of course got right to work just as she usually did. She had no idea what the words ‘take a break’ meant. You helped her out with most of the tasks she tried to perform, but there was one she was insistent on doing alone, again.
So you sat back, preparing whatever medicine Ringo had asked for you to make as he followed around the sword father like there was no tomorrow. You sat in silence, Taigen sleeping not too far away from you, the fire still blaring keeping you both warm.
Why him of all people. Why did he have to be the one she brought back?
There was nothing you could do about him now except for hope that when he wakes up he just gets up and goes on his way.
You rolled your eyes, even thinking about the man made you mad, so you went back to your mundane task. That was until you heard the sound of what you realized to be Taigen stirring as he finally woke up.
“Great, you're awake.” You said sarcastically as you turned towards the man who had rolled over, making sure to make several groaning noises in the process. Sure he was in severe pain but literally everything he did, logical or not, annoyed you.
He didn’t even truly process who you were or why you were there, the first thing he asked was,
“Where’s Mizu?”
Seriously? Why did these two suddenly care about each other so much?
You tried your best to remain as neutral as possible as you very lowly answered, “Outside.”
You didn’t want to tell him, you didn’t even want to speak to him in the first place and You sure as hell didn’t want to leave him alone with Mizu. How could anyone trust him? Sure people change, and most of what he did to Mizu was from when they were kids… but your concern still stands. Who knows, maybe he’s still an asshole.
But in the end, it wasn’t your choice on whether he and Mizu got closer. You would protest it, and you‘d protest it hard but when it comes to it, if Mizu for some reason completely unknown to you decided he was good enough to keep around you’d have to be okay with it.
Some time had passed since they had both woken up. Mizu had gone out to try and remake her sword and Taigen had gone off to… well you didn’t really know nor did you care. You had been sitting outside on the snow covered ground, looking up at the night sky, trying to just clear your mind.
You didn’t like feeling so angry all the time, especially over someone who you personally had no reason to truly be angry at. You felt guilty, it wasn’t your place to make such decisions on who was good for Mizu and who wasn’t but you couldn't help it. It felt almost as if it was some kind of instinct, but you couldn’t really place what it was or why you felt it. All you knew was that you hadn’t felt like this before, and it frightened you. You didn’t want to be so pushy or mean to the two just because you didn’t enjoy one person's presence.
You sighed as you continued to stare up at the sky.
“What is wrong with me?” You whispered quietly to yourself.
While you were having your moment of self reflection, you noticed Taigen who had made his way back from the village carrying food. The guilt you felt seemed to double as you looked at him, so you simply looked the other way.
He walked inside the house not even sparing you a glance, he probably didn’t even know you were there. You were sitting in almost complete darkness, the only light being the glow from the fire inside and the moonlight. You enjoyed the isolating feeling it gave, it felt as if time had stopped as you stared at the bright moon above. You were completely lost in thought, zoning out as you stared at the moon. The only thing to snap you out of it was the sound of a large thud, as if something had hit the ground.
You panicked thinking that Taigen had attacked, just as you thought he would. You rushed over to the door of the house but you stopped once you noticed the position the two of them were in. They were so close to each other, and it didn’t seem like they were actually fighting with each other. You hid behind the door frame, not wanting your presence to be known as you thought about what you had just seen.
Does she actually like him? Why are they so close to each other? Is this seriously happening?
All these questions ran through your head as you backed away from the door. So badly did you want to ‘accidentally’ stumble inside and ruin the moment but then you knew you’d feel even more guilty about it. You just tried to let it go and move on with your night.
You tried.
The next day you had become incredibly standoffish. Mainly towards Mizu and Taigen which made it especially noticeable. Anytime Mizu had asked anything of you, you wouldn’t respond like normal, in fact this time you barely responded at all. Usually you seemed so happy to do anything within her company, but now it was as if you were looking right past her.
When Taigen would even attempt to talk to you, you wouldn’t even make a move to acknowledge his existence.
It was extremely petty and you knew that, but you seriously had no other way to deal with your emotions. You were trying your hardest to keep your thoughts down and just be happy for the two that you thought had some kind of chemistry but you weren’t getting far.
Later that night, you walked into the same room as Mizu. she had been sitting down drinking something from her cup, and staring off into the distance deep in thought. Once you had noticed her, you didnt give your normal greeting, you just sat down across from her and paid her no mind.
“What is your problem?” She finally asked. You simply looked at her, your face was as empty of emotion as you could make it.
“What do you mean? I don’t have a problem.” You lied, trying to not get ahead of yourself. You had so many things that were just so eager to get out, but you didn’t want to share them. You wanted to keep quiet and never mention a single one. If you never mention your problems you don’t have to feel guilty about them, right?
Mizu stared at you, astonished by your persistence with this new attitude.
“Why won't you acknowledge me?” She asked. You averted your gaze by the slightest bit, the guilty feeling coming back.
“I’m acknowledging you right now.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I don't understand your problem here, I’m the exact same.” You lied. You were trying so hard to keep everything under control.
“No you’re not. We both know that.”
“Since when were you an expert on personalities?”
Just because you were trying hard to keep your cool, doesn’t mean you were doing good at it.
“Since I’ve known you for almost a year.”
“You don’t know everything, you know.”
“Why are you acting like this?”
“I don’t know, why don’t you ask Taigen, you seem to go to him for everything anyways.” You didn’t mean to let that slip. If you could take back the words you had just said, you would’ve in an instant. You knew once you had brought up Taigen you wouldn’t be able to stop.
“What is wrong with you?” She asked, confused by your attitude towards every single thing she said. You would never act like this normally, so why now? It almost frightened her, it reminded her a bit of how the people in her past would turn on her so suddenly based on some trait about her, so she assumed the worst.
“There’s nothing wrong with me, Taigen is the problem!” You shouted, now standing up to make your point clear, which took Mizu by surprise. You had never truly gotten so angry before and especially not at her.
“What did he do? Did he do something to you?” She asked, a whole new level of possibilities jumped forward in her mind. She had let her guard down around Taigen, what if he had made a move on you and she didn’t know.
“Are you kidding? I’m not worried about me, I'm worried about you! I mean, what hasn’t he done to you. You’re telling me he was an asshole to you for the entire duration of your childhood that you spent together, and then he suddenly comes waltzing back in claiming he wants to kill you? And then you forgive him? You saved his life sure but now he wants to act all buddy buddy with you? Are you serious? You’re setting yourself up for failure here.” As you went on your ramble, Mizu had begun to relax as she realized the situation. Her eyes followed you as you paced back and forth in front of her, an amused expression creeping its way onto her face.
“Hey.” Mizu began but you could barely hear her over the sound of your own voice.
“You could’ve picked anyone else to start getting close with and I would’ve been fine with it. I mean I don’t control who you can and cannot be close with, but him? Seriously?” You continued.
“Hey.” Mizu repeated, once again trying to get your attention to no avail.
“I mean, you could do so much better. The guy who bullied you for years on end? Oh please, even I would be a better candidate than him, not that I’m saying I should be, but I could be-”
“Stop talking.” Mizu had raised her voice just enough for you to finally hear her and take the hint. You immediately stopped yourself and looked at her with a shocked expression. You had gotten so lost in your thoughts you almost forgot you were ranting to her in the first place. You watched as Mizu’s stern expression shifted to one of a more… smug nature as she stared at you, her eyes looking at you from just above the rim of her glasses so you could see the color in its entirety.
“Are you… jealous?” Mizu asked, an amused smile very evident on her face as she slightly turned to you. Your head shot towards her direction as you opened your mouth to protest but nothing came out.
She was right, you were jealous. Really jealous. You had gotten so lost in your hatred towards Taigen you had forgotten to take a step back and realize how stupid your actions looked.
“I just… don’t think he’s right for you.” You muttered, crossing your arms in defiance as you averted your gaze. You weren’t looking at her but you could tell the woman was just staring at you with a very plain look, a look that probably said something along the lines of ‘are you serious?’
“Not right for me?” She asked, placing her dish down on the ground before looking back up at you. Once she had looked back towards you she had realized you still weren't looking at her, and that wasn’t going to do.
“Look at me.” She demanded. Her tone was not harsh but she was quite stern about it. You did as she said without another question, turning your head to look at her even though you wanted to do anything else but that at the moment.
“What do you mean he’s not right for me?” She asked again, wanting a serious answer out of you.
“I saw the two of you… last night. When you were sparring. I saw how you looked at him and I just. I don’t think he’s a good choice for you.” You admitted. You felt so stupid, couldn’t you have just kept your mouth shut and moved on like an adult. Why did you have to be so petty about someone who didn’t even reciprocate your feelings? You were friends, why would you become anything more than that?
She didn’t say anything in response, she simply stared at you as she usually did, but this time her staring made you feel so small. You already felt guilty about feeling this way and now that you had actually said it out loud to Mizu’s face and all she was doing was staring, it made the feeling unbearable. You wanted to cry, but you wouldn't dare to, not now. To risk looking even more childish than you do already? You’d rather die.
“Then who do you think would be a better choice?” She inquired, earning nothing more than a shrug from you. You had said what you needed and you feared if you said anything more you would dig yourself into a deeper hole. “Come on, you don’t have anyone in mind?”
She was teasing you.
She wasn’t mad?
Why was she playing into this, why wasn’t she upset with you placing your own opinions on her feelings.
“I don’t know… literally anyone else?” You responded quietly, not really wanting to answer the question.
“What, like you?” She retorted with a playful scoff.
“I didn’t say that.” You denied, quite defensively one might add.
“Yes you did.” She corrected.
“You heard me wrong.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“I heard you wrong.” She repeated, confirming the fact that you were actually trying to play that card.
You nodded.
“So you didn’t say, ‘even I would be a better candidate than him’.”
Well, she got you there, Those were in fact the words you said. You were in too deep to go back now so you committed to your sense of denial full force.
“Where are you getting these words from?” You tried to play dumb, obviously it wasn’t going to work.
“Don’t try to lie to me, I heard you say them.”
“I wasn’t saying that I would be the only candidate, I was just using myself as an example. I’m not saying that you’d have to pick me over him I’m just saying that in the grand scheme of things I just-” You had begun to ramble yet again. You couldn't stop yourself, you felt like everything you wanted to say needed a further explanation to make it not sound as bad as it did. Luckily, this rant was cut very short.
“Hey.” Mizu said, very quickly getting you to shut up unlike the last few times. This time however, she was much closer than she was before. Much, much, closer. You hadn’t noticed that throughout the entire duration of your little banter match, she had slowly made her way towards you and you had absentmindedly been backing away from her. Well, that was until you couldn’t back up any more. Now she was standing no more than a few mere inches away from you, her hands had managed to slither their way onto your waist, holding you in place.
“What…” You whispered. You didn’t know what else to do with yourself, you felt as if you could melt into a puddle right then and there as you stared into her eyes. Her eyes however, had not stayed focused on yours, and instead began to travel around to other areas of your face. You had never really seen this side of her. There would be no reason to really, unless she truly felt the same way.
There wouldn’t be any logic behind Mizu just messing with you to mess with you, she only ever really put up fronts for people she needed information from, and the only information you had was how much you wanted her in that exact moment. You would never say that outloud though.
“Stop talking.” She whispered back, her eyes almost entirely focused on your lips as she very slowly neared you. You couldn’t hold yourself back, moving yourself forward and making the move to seal the kiss yourself.
Words wouldn’t be able to accurately describe how you felt in that moment. Neither of you truly expected it, but the kiss had become a lot more heated way faster than you truly expected. Turns out you both had buried feelings that were going to be known one way or another. Your hands had made their way to Mizu’s hair and her hands had begun to travel away from your waist. Once you had eventually parted from the kiss, you both looked almost surprised that any of that truly happened.
Mizu laughed a bit to herself as she looked at you.
“You know, Jealousy looks good on you.” she said before you rolled your eyes,
“Stop talking.” Was all you said before continuing where you left off.
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4ngel-inc · 2 months
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࿔*:・ BUNGO STRAY DOGS — WITH A VERY TALKATIVE S/O ࿐
notes / warnings — fem reader, pet names, just fluff !! ᰔ i am 10000% calling myself out wahhh i talk so much :')
DAZAI loves attention, so naturally, he loves when you talk to him. you could talk about anything, really—the yummy breakfast you cooked for yourself that morning, the weather, your favorite book—it's all music to his ears. he also loves when you ask him questions about himself, like how his day went or what's new at work. if you reach over while you two are relaxing and gently stroke his cheek, asking what's on his mind, his heart melts into a little puddle. you really want to know what's running around in his head? most people wouldn't dare—though his thoughts have grown far brighter in the time he's known you, he's still surprised you're interested. dazai also loves when you ramble on about things—he just thinks you're so gorgeous when your expression lights up from something you're passionate about, eyes sparkling as you go on and on.
CHUUYA loves how excited you get about small things—it makes his day much brighter to hear the tone of your voice when you're hyped up about something! you're just so damn adorable—he wishes he could see the light in everything like you do. if you're shopping and see a pretty necklace in the store window, he'll let you go on and on about it for half an hour, about how you wish you could afford it, even though he knows he's going to return later and buy it for you. he just loves the sound of your voice, even on nights when he can't keep his eyes open after work, his head resting on your chest as you run your fingers through his hair, he convinces you to keep talking. "chu, you're not even listening, you're sleeping!" you laugh. "nuh-uh, pretty girl. 'm still awake, just keep talkin', makes me happy."
FUKUZAWA honestly, takes a while to get used to how much you talk, though he doesn't particularly dislike it. as someone who appreciates silence and tranquility, it's difficult for him to understand why you're so eager to talk about random things when the unspoken silence between the two of you is so valuable to him already—however, over time, he comes to realize it's part of your love language. you love him so much, of course you'd like to know how his day went, how he's feeling, if he liked what you made for dinner. you're always so excited to see him, practically talking his ear off the second he walks through the door, and after a while, he comes to appreciate how nurturing and doting you are. after a few years together, he simply can't imagine his life being any different—your voice is his greatest source of comfort during hard times.
SIGMA absolutely adores how talkative you are, he's so flattered you want to talk to him! your relationship makes him feel lighter and more playful, and after a while, he realizes you've taught him so much about how to enjoy the little things in life. he absolutely loves watching your eyes light up and hearing you rave when you try new food, when the snow falls, when you try your hand at a new cookie recipe for him that turns out to be so delicious. he could listen to your voice forever, but his favorite thing to talk about is how you're feeling. sigma is a true gentleman, always ensuring you're happy and asking what he can do to make you feel more loved. although he usually prefers most of the attention to be on you, he feels so special when you ask him how his day went or if he finished that one stressful project at work. overall, your voice simply gives him butterflies every time he hears it, no matter how long you've been together.
AKUTAGAWA actually really appreciates how much you talk, since he isn't often a man of many words. he's the quiet, stoic type—and the stark contrast between his reserved nature and your more outgoing, bubbly one is what makes you meld so well together. similar to chuuya, akutagawa loves hearing your voice when he's tired—in particular, if he's had an especially exhausting day at work or when he's been haunted by thoughts of his past lately, your voice soothes him, gently nudging all pessimistic thoughts out of his mind. after listening to you talk about your day for a few minutes, he can't even remember what was bringing him down to begin with. in general, the sound of your voice and an occasional kiss to his hand are enough to keep him content—if anything, he's grateful he is the one who gets to listen to you talk every day, your voice is his favorite sound.
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bluelockmaniac · 29 days
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⊹ ࣪ ˖𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓-𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄
↳ "a cute first encounter which leads to a romantic relationship later on."
ITOSHI SAE'S ONE-SHOT VERSION !
↳ not recognizing the renowned player piques his interest in you <3
click here for the bllk various version .
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each early morning, before practice, sae made it a habit to stop by the local cafe for a cup of freshly brewed coffee. it was a routine he followed to keep himself awake from either the tedious interviews his manager always nags him about, or the unexciting plays his teammates offered. but today, this conventional drill would deviate from its norm. 
as usual, he ordered the pungent drink and stepped out of the establishment to continue on with the events his day promised, only to abruptly collide with you, splattering warm coffee all across his jersey. you were running at a fast pace, late to work for the second time this week, and you definitely did not want to face your manager’s scolding again.
for a moment, he stood there, stunned, blinking at the spreading stain. slowly, his gaze lifted to lock on your frantic, worried eyes.
“i’m so sorry, sir!” you stammered, quickly pulling out a handkerchief to absorb what you could of the bitter liquid, completely oblivious to the name on his jersey. perhaps he was a really big fan of some bigshot football player, you assumed. “i wasn’t paying attention– you see, i’m late for work and—”
“it’s alright.” he retorted calmly, though a very subtle hint of annoyance laced his words. he gently pushed your hand away from his chest and sent the now empty cup flying into the distant trash can with his foot.
your wide eyes sparkled in amazement as he made the shot. “woah, sir, do you play football? you have a really good aim! is the player named…” you made a quick loop around him to check the back of his jersey, “...‘sae’, your inspiration?”
sae lifts a brow, surprised by your lack of recognition. it was not often that he met someone unaware of japan’s prodigy player, who had made a significant name for himself in spain. nonetheless, you had certainly made quite an impression on the professional player— and he was rather fond of it. however, he wasn’t about to conceal the fact that he was the owner of the name on his jersey.
“i am sae, dumbass,” he points out.
“who?” you inquired innocently, your attention focused more on his striking features than the insult he had just thrown your way. if there was such an attractive, famous young man (despite his foul tongue), you would have known him by now. but, you decide to shoot your shot anyway; it would be a waste to let go of such a handsome guy.
“also, is it possible if i could get your number?” you asked almost flirtatiously, before realizing the awkwardness of the situation. “i mean, i’d love to, uh, pay you back for the coffee you spilled.”
“hmm?” he glanced at your uniform, then pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket with a sigh. “you’ve done nothing to make yourself worthy of having my number.”
“–wait, i really do apologize for spilling your coffee, sae—”
“but,” he pauses, handing you the paper with a shrug. “you ought to keep me entertained.”
with a final glance at your love-stricken expression, he turned on his heel and disappeared around the corner. with your heart racing, you eagerly smooth out the crumpled paper and scan its contents; itoshi sae’s neatly written phone number. you actually received the aloof man’s contact! but… 
you were fired. well, this should be enough to keep him entertained, right?
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© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !
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milksnake-tea · 5 months
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━━ duty calls.
Created around the same time and having trained with one another, you and Casper have always butted heads. You'd compete over seemingly anything - how many souls one could reap, the days one could go without catching soul sickness, and the list goes on. Casper has always found you to be obnoxious, but when he sees you crying by yourself, he finds himself torn.
grim x gn!reaper!reader
contains: fluff, hurt/comfort, set before the main storyline, reader is NOT the mc, brief mentions of child death, USAGE OF GRIM'S REAL NAME, reader is a little shit
word count: 4.2k
a/n: FORGIVE ME IF THE WORLDBUILDING IS OFF I WAS TRYING MY BEST and ive only done one ending oops (finals hurts okay :((( ) also ... im not sure if reapers names are classified just to mortals and not other reapers but ykw imma take my liberties
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"Seriously, do you ever get tired?"
Casper groaned irritatedly, running a hand through his snow-like hair. Blood like rust coated his scythe, spoils from his most recent hunt. The corpse still lay fresh in front of him, but their skin was cold and their eyes dead.
Boisterous laughter erupted above him. Sitting on the balcony of some person’s apartment, you grinned down at him - that infuriating, shit-eating grin that never failed to tick him off.
You kicked your legs childishly as you leaned back over the railing. Nestled against the crook of your arm was a scythe similar to his own, save for the more detailed design and color palette. Unlike him, you would constantly say, you liked to live a little.
Bold words coming from a bringer of death.
“Don’t blame me for you being slow,” you called down to him. Casper rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he glared up at you.
“I am not ‘slow’,” he grumbled. “You’re too eager. And get down from there, you’ll be spotted.”
You tilted your head. “It’s like, 3 A.M. What kind of idiot’s gonna be awake at this hour?”
“You’d be surprised. Humans will do anything but take care of themselves.”
“I guess,” you sighed, jumping down. You twirled your scythe absentmindedly, Casper leaning back to avoid getting hacked to pieces.
“Be careful with that,” he scolded. You, of course, ignored him.
“So are these the last of the guys?” you wondered, kicking at a corpse with your foot.
The alleyway was practically lined with bodies, so many that management had called upon both you and Casper to deal with the remnants of the massacre. Gang fights were a pain to deal with, second only to pandemics and war.
“It would seem so.” Casper gave you a look, to which you responded by sticking out your tongue. You were very mature, after all.
You stretched thankfully, rolling out your shoulder. “Thank God, I was starting to get depressed from all the dead people.”
“If you’re getting depressed from just this, perhaps you should consider a different career choice.”
“Nah.” You smiled. “If I left, who would I bully? You’d get all sad and lonely without me.”
“Hardly,” Casper scoffed. “If anything, I’d be relieved.”
“You wound me.”
“Good.”
“So mean,” you pouted. Casper paid you no attention, as per usual. It didn’t matter, though, since you immediately perked back up. “Hey, boo?”
“I told you not to call me that.”
“I have an idea.” And just like that, your cheshire grin returned. Casper sighed, already beginning to walk off.
“How wonderful,” he said sarcastically. “Share it with someone else.”
“Uh-uh, no.” As quick as a flash, your scythe was out, the blade curving in front of Casper to prevent his escape. “This one’s good, I swear.”
“Your definition of what is and isn’t a good idea needs some desperate fixing.” Still, he made no move to escape, instead turning around to face you.
“Let’s race.”
Casper raised a brow. “Race?”
You nodded eagerly, your eyes shining like jewels. In the darkness of the alleyway, the two of you were illuminated only by the neon blue lights of the city. Yet, as that same blue was captured in your eyes, Casper was reminded of a kaleidoscope, changing and turning in a multitude of different colors.
It was… captivating.
“If I win, you have to buy me a drink.” 
Casper snapped out of his daze, a light flush blooming across his fair skin. Thankfully, though, you didn’t seem to notice, too entranced by another one of your ridiculous competitions. Seriously, there had to be a limit to how unprofessional you could be.
“You assume I have the time to buy you one,” he said with faux calmness, grateful for the night’s shadows hiding his complexion. You huffed.
“You could do it while you’re rebalancing yourself,” you said, as though it was obvious. “Besides, it doesn’t have to be anything big, just a coffee or a tea would be nice.”
“Fine, let’s say I stoop down to your level and agree to this… race,” said Casper. “What do I get if I win?”
You shrugged. “Then I'll just buy you a drink.”
Casper shook his head. “I’m not like you. I don’t drink on the job.”
“But you do cuddle an axolotl plushie when you sleep,” you pointed out. Instantly, Casper flushed red.
“Wha- What does that have to do with anything?!” he protested.
"I just thought about it randomly," you shrugged. "But seriously, that thing is huge, where did you get it?"
“Never mind how I got it," Casper crossed his arms and averted his eyes, his bottom lip turning up in a pout. “We’re getting off track.”
“Oh, so now you care about my games,” you teased. “Anyways, on how I’ll reward you…”
You spun your scythe back to your side, tapping its staff against the ground as you thought of a fitting reward.
“Oh! How about this?” You snapped your fingers, a figurative light bulb lighting up next to you. “You get to cash in one favor from me.”
“Any favor?” A smirk creeped onto Casper’s face, his interest finally piqued. “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, [Name].”
“As long as it’s within reason and isn’t embarrassing,” you snapped, crossing your arms. “If you make me kiss your feet or something like that, I’ll kick your ass.”
“Of course,” Casper chuckled knowingly. “So, where to and when are we racing?”
“Hey, if you weren’t paying attention to the rules, then that's your fault. As for when the race starts, how about… now.”
“Wha- Hey!” Casper barely dodged as you shot past him in a blur of black. Hooking your scythe into the walls, you stuck out your tongue at him as you propelled yourself through the night.
“So long, Casp!”
Casper cursed under his breath. Quickly, he made haste to follow you. He flew through the air like a bird, twisting around light poles, skyscrapers, and billboards alike.
You weren’t as elegant, instead jumping from building to building like a modern superhero. You’d catapult yourself through the sky using your scythe as leverage, your laughter echoing in the slumbering city - free like the wind.
Casper didn’t have to follow you long to know where you were heading towards. Invisible to the mortal eye, yet painfully obvious to the eyes of reapers, was an entrance to the Underworld, a whirlpool of black and red that led straight down to your home.
As you launched yourself into the air once again, Casper came up next to you, his hair billowing in the cold night wind like smoke.
“Nice of you to join me,” you teased, elbowing him in the side. Casper rolled his eyes once again, speeding up. “Hey!”
Smoky tendrils of crimson and ink curled around your figures as the two of you neared the portal. The center of the whirlpool was a void seemingly leading to the abyss itself, but you’ve worked in this job long enough to know just what lay beneath.
True to his character, Casper wasted no time and shot straight into the thick of it. You, on the other hand, were a little more dramatic with your landing.
You spun in a backflip off of the last of the skyscrapers before letting gravity take you for a ride. Wind whistled past your ears as you fell, yet all you could hear was the rapid thump of your own heart. Adrenaline filled your veins. Soon, black and red lined your vision as the Underworld engulfed you.
The second you saw the tips of red-stained towers, you flipped yourself to face the ground. Closer and closer, you could practically taste it. If you delayed any longer, your life as a grim reaper could end prematurely.
Like the eyes of a devil, your pupils glowed in delight, activating your abilities. But rather than slowing your descent, you sped it up, shooting towards the ground like a missile.
Black blobs, the fuzzy images of your coworkers, scrambled to move out of your way. Turning your body, you landed hard on your heels, narrowly missing a fellow reaper.
For a moment, all you could see was dust. Before the clouds could disappear, you shook off the sting in your ankles and stretched.
“Woo!” you cheered, kicking your leg. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
“Quiet down.” Casper grabbed your shoulder and pulled you back. “Honestly, is there ever a quiet moment with you?”
You giggled. “Boo, you’ve known me long enough to know the answer to that. Oh, by the way, I’m craving some-”
“Hold it.” Casper bonked your head. “I only agreed to buy you something if you won.”
“Didn’t I?”
“No you didn’t,” Casper retorted. “Anyone with working eyes could see that I reached the ground before you did. Therefore, I won.”
“Uh, no.” You crossed your arms. “Are you gaslighting me? You’re gaslighting me. That's not very nice of you, Casp.”
“I am not gaslighting you.” Your white-haired coworker rolled his eyes. “As grim reapers, we cannot lie. Someone of your caliber should know this.”
You blinked innocently. “Did you just compliment me?”
Casper spluttered. “What in the world made you come to that conclusion?”
Taking a step forward, you leaned towards the reaper, a cheeky smile growing on your face. “You said ‘Someone of your caliber’. That means you think I’m capable.”
“You’d have to be a special kind of stupid to be incompetent after working as a reaper for so long,” Casper crossed his arms, fighting down the blush rising onto his cheeks. You were close, way too close. “Then again, I wouldn’t be surprised, seeing as how that was the only thing you heard from what I said.”
Heaving a sigh, he pushed you away with his finger.
“But don’t distract yourself from the fact that I won the race,” he said, a smug smirk replacing his exasperation.
“I was honestly trying to forget.”
Casper huffed, a pout forming on his lips. But the moment wouldn’t last long, as a ding sounded from both of your phones. When you checked it, you groaned when you saw a notification of unexpected emergency.
“Seriously?” you complained. “Overtime? Did a bunch of reapers die off or something? My soul’s going to get tainted at this rate.”
“Don’t complain.” Casper nudged you, but even you could see the irritation on his face. “It’s our job as reapers to reap souls on time, no matter what.”
“I guess. Still doesn’t make it any less annoying.”
“Agreed.” With a sigh, Casper summoned his scythe. “I must be off, now. See you on the other side, [Name].”
As he made his way back to the opening of the portal, his feet lifting off from the ground, a gloved hand reached out to grasp your chin. Gently, he guided you to look at him as he ascended.
“I look forward to cashing in on that favor.”
For as long as you could remember, things have always been this way.
Your earliest memory was of waking up to the crimson skies of the Underworld. Unaware and unknowing, you allowed yourself to be dragged around by older reapers, their voices blurring together in a droning buzz. Everything had gone by so quickly, and you struggled to keep up with it all.
If you were to say it bluntly, your first day felt like a fever dream.
But amidst the chaos, the tutorials, and the gifting of your first scythe, there was one thing that you remembered clearly.
“...Snow.”
Your mentor’s lecture halted at your voice, barely audible. They followed your gaze to a white-haired man, looking to be around the same age as you. Like a drowsy child, you lifted your finger and pointed at him, looking back to your mentor.
“He’s like snow.”
Their eyes softened by the tiniest bit, having seemingly realized that you were still disorientated. After all, in a sense, you had just been born.
“I suppose he is.” Putting a hand on your shoulder, they guided you away from the man. “Now, as I was saying…”
Their voice faded away into the background as the white-haired man noticed your gaze. He turned to look at you, his ruby-like eyes like blood speckles against the winter landscape. You stared at each other for only a few seconds before you turned to follow your mentor.
You quickly forgot the pretty stranger, but you would stay in his memories for quite a while before you’d cross paths again. In the darkness of the Underworld, you were like a lantern - radiating warmth and familiarity.
You were beautiful, like a flower in summer. That was, until he met you for the second time.
Swiftly and ruthlessly, holding true to your occupation as a reaper, you cut apart any premonitions he had had about you. When you were put against him to spar by your mentors, the drowsiness had worn off - instead replaced by insufferable audacity.
As your scythes clashed, sparks flying between the two of you and burning him in the process, your mouth just wouldn’t stop moving, stop talking. The innocently sleepy look on your face was replaced with a shit-eating grin as you blocked his attacks, trapping him in a frenzied dance.
“What’s wrong, boo?” you laughed, twirling your scythe to drive him back. “Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already.”
Casper’s eyebrow twitched at the nickname; you wouldn’t stop calling him that ever since you learned his real name. He didn’t understand where it came from, but just the way you said it was enough to annoy him.
“Hardly,” he scoffed, his boots kicking up dust as they skidded against the ground. He was quick to lunge back at you, his movements precise as he swung his blade. “If anything, I’d wager that you’re the one tiring out.”
“Ha!” You ducked under his attack and sprung forward, Casper’s hair tickling at your face as you came nose to nose with him. Startled, Casper had no time to react as you slammed the end of your scythe’s staff into his chest.
Before he knew it, Casper’s back was against the ground, your boot on his chest, and your scythe at his neck.
Your breaths were heavy as you looked down on him, but your eyes glowed with triumphant victory. The fight may have been more exhausting than you’d like to admit, but the view you had was well worth the effort.
Beneath you, Casper struggled to catch his own breath, his chest heaving under the soles of your foot. His white hair splayed around him like a halo, and his face was tickled pink from the fight.
Even in defeat, he was beautiful.
You leaned forward, putting your weight on your knee. Casper grunted as you pressed harder on him. Just for the fun of it, you pressed your scythe’s blade against his chin and guided him to look up at you and your grin.
“I win,” you sang mockingly.
Casper groaned, letting his head fall against the floor. You laughed heartily, stepping off of him and instead extending your hand to him. Without a second thought, Casper took it, allowing you to pull him to his feet and dust him off.
“That’s what, victory number twenty-one?” you asked, stretching. “That means I’m in the lead now, Casp.”
“Whatever,” Casper scoffed, dusting off his chest where your foot had been. “I’m sure the score will even out in no time.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you squinted at him. Casper stuck his tongue out at you.
“I don’t know, what does it mean?”
You hit his chest playfully. Casper grunted, glaring at you from the corner of his eye.
That’s how it had always been, after all. You and Casper would go back and forth in this tantalizing dance, exchanging jabs and jokes at the same time. 
To Casper, you were insufferable, but annoyingly capable. To you, Casper was way too serious and stuck up, yet had that charm about him that made you want to tease him at every possible opportunity.
But for many, many years, your relationship never went further than mere friends - if Casper even wanted to call you that.
The day Casper’s view of you changed was like a stormy sky - dark, yet light still managed to peek through.
You’d come back to headquarters with a solemn look upon your face. For someone who had just come back from a mission, you were oddly… clean. There wasn’t a trace of blood on your clothes, yet your eyes were dark, haunted. Even your scythe’s shine seemed dull.
For the reapers, to have someone normally so loud and full of life be reduced to this, was frightening. They’d grown used to your smile, your voice, your light. You parted crowds with your uncharacteristically serious aura; if there was anything a sensible reaper feared, it was the wrath of a joyous soul.
Immediately after turning in your report to headquarters, you disappeared from the public eye.
When Casper first heard the news, he had brushed it off. You were probably just having a bad day, he tried to assure himself. Maybe you’d finally realized the grimness that came with your profession. Maybe the soul you’d reaped was especially troublesome and gave you a run for your money.
Despite his attempts to make up explanations for your behavior, he couldn’t stop the worry from gnawing at his heart. It twisted in his chest like soul sickness, an ailment that he wasn’t used to nor did he understand. It even followed him into his work, plaguing his mind and distracting him as he reaped soul after soul.
He’d made haste to return home, knowing that this illness would only worsen if he stayed out.
The Underworld was always dark, but that day, the sky was pitch black. Eager to return to the comfort of his bed, he quickly made his way to one of the many apartment complexes in which reapers resided.
However, just before he opened the door to his room, his hand stilled at the sound of crying.
Now, sadness wasn’t an uncommon emotion in the Underworld. Ghosts, sinners, and demons alike wailed and screamed their woes into the night. Their cries were as common as the sound of rushing cars in a human city.
But not for reapers, especially in their home. Reapers, at their core, were cold, emotionless, and ruthless - they needed to be, in order to do their jobs properly. A reaper’s tears were rare, almost taboo.
The more Casper listened, he soon recognized a familiar voice among those sniffles: yours.
Could it be? He looked up to the rooftop, his hand wavering. His soul pulsed in his chest, warning him to ignore you and focus on himself. But his heart argued back.
Casper glanced once more at the doorknob to his room. Cursing himself, he heaved a sigh and walked away - moving towards the staircase leading to the rooftop.
As he emerged onto the rooftop, the first thing he noticed was how clear the sky was. Its crimson blanket was more like that of a rose’s rather than bloodstains, and if he squinted, he could perhaps delude himself into seeing a few stars.
Then came you.
Casper’s heart plummeted in his chest when he saw your form curled into itself. You sat at the edge of the rooftop, your knees pulled up to your chest and your face buried in your arms. Your back was to him, but Casper saw the way your shoulders trembled.
He tried to take a step towards you, tried to reach to you with his hand, but hesitated. What would he even say? What could he say? What could he do?
His thoughts halted when you took a deep, shuddered breath, your voice raw from cry.
“What do you want, Casper.”
Casper. Not Casp, not boo, not any of the annoying nicknames that you called him by.
“I…”
He stepped back, feeling fear for perhaps the first time in his life. For the first time, he was unsure of what to do.
You couldn’t see him, but you heard him walk away and descend the staircase. You laughed hollowly, wiping at your face with your hand.
“What was I even expecting…” you muttered bitterly, gripping at your own arms for support. “Why would he of all people…”
You shut your eyes tighter. Without the company of the sky and the city, you were left alone with your thoughts. Memories of what you had witnessed laughed in your mind, latching onto you like a parasite and refusing to let go.
You were never afraid of blood, nor of death, but today, just the thought of it made you nauseous.
Something soft nudged at your elbow. Blinking your eyes open, you warily looked to your side.
However, instead of seeing a person, you came face to face with a bright pink axolotl plushie.
You and the plushie stared at each other for a good minute, neither of you knowing what to make of the other. It wasn’t until you heard a familiar, exasperated sigh from behind the plushie that you realized what it was.
“Don’t just stare at him,” Casper mumbled, pushing the plushie against you. You blinked owlishly, before hesitantly taking the plushie into your arms.
Hugging it against your chest, you rested your chin on top of its head. The plushie was oddly warm, yet comforting. Casper sat beside you, silent and gazing up towards the sky. For a while, the two of you simply sat in this silence, with the only thing breaking it being your quiet sniffles.
“...She was just a kid,” you finally spoke, catching Casper’s attention and making him look at you. You, however, kept your gaze straight ahead to the city lines, refusing to meet his gaze. “She was just a little girl, and yet they… they…”
You hugged the plushie a little tighter.
“I just can’t understand how humans can be so cruel to each other.”
Casper’s gaze turned downcast. “That’s how they’ve always been. Life is cruel, even to the purest of souls.”
“It’s not fair.”
“Hardly anything is.”
“It shouldn’t have been her. It should’ve been that bastard that murdered her.”
“He’ll get what he deserves. Karma will catch up to him.”
“But what if it doesn’t? What if he gets let off?”
“He won’t.”
Unexpectedly, you let out a snort at Casper’s deadpanned voice - so assured and serious. Casper raised a brow, looking at you inquisitively.
“You know,” you said, raising your head. “You’re somehow really bad and really good at comforting people.”
“What?” Casper wrinkled his nose. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” you said softly. “I didn’t mean it as an insult. Actually, that’s one of the things I like about you.”
“That I’m apparently a bad comforter?”
“No, silly.” You leaned your head on the plushie again, only this time you were looking at your coworker. “Your seriousness. How you’re always so confident in yourself. How even if you don’t know what you’re doing, you still try.”
Red bloomed across Casper’s face like a flowering blossom, reaching from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his gaze.
“It’s not fair when you start saying things like that,” he mumbled. You giggled a little, leaning onto his shoulder with his plushie still in your arms.
“I’m just being honest,” you hummed. “Or maybe I’m coping. I dunno.”
Casper chuckled, but made no move to push you off him. You closed your eyes. The turmoil in your heart was still there, of course, but with Casper against you, it eased up just a little.
“Seriously though, thank you,” you said. “For coming up here for me and, well, everything.”
“It was nothing,” Casper replied. “You were looking pretty pathetic, all depressed and all.”
You huffed. “Just admit you care about me, Casp. Is that so hard?”
Casper grumbled something unintelligible, before lifting his arm. You squeaked as he wrapped it around your shoulders, pulling you closer against him. With your head laid against his collarbone, you could feel every breath he took as well as the rapid beat of his heart.
“[Name],” he said quietly. “Remember the favor you promised me? For winning the race?”
“Mm… yeah. What about it?”
“I’d like to cash it in right now.”
“Oh lord,” you chuckled. “Alright, what do you want?”
“Whatever happens next, don’t tell anyone,” Casper whispered.
Your lips curled into a smile. “You know, Casp, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were about to do something weird.”
You couldn’t see him, but you knew he was rolling his eyes.
“Be quiet for a moment, will you?”
You grinned. “Ah, but that’s two favors, not-”
Casper shut you up with a soft kiss to your head. It was brief, so quick that for a second you almost thought you had dreamed it.
In your stunned silence, Casper spoke again.
“Forgive me if I’m being greedy, but I’ll ask for a third favor,” he said. “No matter what happens, promise me you won’t deal with it by yourself.”
His grip around you tightened.
“Please.”
You nuzzled closer into the crook of his neck.
“...I promise.”
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buckyalpine · 1 year
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A little longer
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HI MY BEAUTIFUL 🐚ANON!! I adore this so much, I adore YOU so much, as always, your requests are everything!! 
Warnings: So so much fluffy fluff, angst if you really squint till your eyes go cross-eyed and blurry
-
"It's been decades. Not even a couple years. Almost a century. You probably shoot dust. Or whatever your bionic ass reproduces with"
Bucky contemplated throwing his half finished milkshake at Sam's head while they both scarfed down burgers from a late night diner after a taxing mission. Sam was pestering Bucky yet again about his nonexistent social and lack of a love life, a topic he seemed to get high off of. 
“For fucks sake Sam-”
"You need to get out more man, at least start dating. You don't need a whole girlfriend but a few dates wouldn't kill you. Or maybe it would, since you're what, 106?"
Bucky groaned, rubbing a hand over his face, his patience wearing thin. Dating wasn’t for him, not because he didn’t want to date but because he wasn’t sure who would even date him. He’d only just gotten comfortable talking to Sam though he’d never openly admit he actually enjoyed their conversations. He wasn’t exactly the most approachable, Peter had once told him he had a resting bitch face, whatever that meant. He wasn’t the most tech savvy unless it involved doing something illegal. He had a plethora of devices that could take down the US government at the push of a button he secrecy hoarded under his bed but God forbid someone ask him to pose for their Instagram story.  
Talking to a pretty girl was a completely different story. What would he even talk about? His time before the war involved a lot of nursing an injured or sick Steve back to health. After the war and his time in Hydra, he didn’t really have time for himself. He liked plums. The hobbit. He was thinking about getting a cat. Bucky internally groaned, maybe he’d find a girlfriend at the retirement home down the street; at least they’d have things in common. 
Sam cocked an eyebrow while Bucky narrowed his eyes at him. Usually he’d respond with a grumpy pout or complete silence but today his exhaustion had caught up with him. He debated on how to get Sam of his back, a dim, flickering, half broken bulb going off in his sleep deprived brain. 
"I already have a girlfriend Tweety bird"
The deafening silence that followed that statement made it clear both men were aware that was a lie. Sam snorted, shaking his head while they both finished they food, slapping a $50 on the counter before leaving. He looked at the super soldier, deciding not to press into the issue further for the night but he definitely wasn’t going to let it go that easily. 
5:30 AM
The buzz of his phone jolted him awake, the faint sound of the TV still playing in the background. Bucky felt around for his phone, tossing his sheet off, sitting up from his place on the floor seeing Sam’s caller ID light up the screen. 
“What are you doing next Saturday” Sam sounded unusually chipper, a hint of a smirk in his voice, a suspicious amount of enthusiasm for such an early hour. 
“Why” Bucky groaned, rubbing sleep from his eyes, going back to lying down. 
“Were having a cookout over the weekend, you should come”
“You woke me up to tell me what could have been a text message?” Bucky asked incredulously, closing his eyes, ready to let sleep free him from such a ridiculous conversation. 
“Ooo, white panther knows how to text now” 
“White Wolf” Bucky grumbled, regretting every telling Sam the name he had been given in Wakanda. “I’ll come if you just let me go back to sleep” 
"Alright, but bring your girl too"
There it was. 
He could feel the shit eating grin Sam was giving him over the phone, eye brows wigging up and down, all his perfect teeth out. 
“Whatcha say Barnes?” 
Sleep had disappeared into thin air as Bucky shot up, mentally kicking himself for the nonsense he’d gotten himself into. He fiddled with the corner of his sheet, hoping to find an out. 
"I thought you only invited family" 
"Hey, anyone that you're allowing within 3 feet of your personal space might as well be considered family" Sam snorted, not believing a single word Bucky had said the night before. The conversation moved on to a different topic, easing some of Bucky’s nerves. A whole hour had passed and Bucky was sure he was in the clear until-  
“Back to the matter at hand, you bringing her or not?” 
“Why are you like this, does being Captain America always come with the caveat with also being a pain in my ass, I’m not going to-”
Bucky was about to refuse until a knock at the door pulled him away from the conversation, the scent of fresh pancakes wafting through the door. He pulled himself up, a smile tugging on his lips, knowing exactly who was on the other side, not needing to check as he untangled himself from the sheets. 
His sweet neighbor. 
Bucky wasn’t religious and he wasn’t a big believer in a higher power but there had to be something out there when people like you existed. Whenever Sam asked him why he stayed in the dingy little apartment that barely had windows and a closet for a bedroom, he’d insist it was because he preferred a small space and was still getting used to living a normal life so he wasn’t ready for another move just yet. 
The part he always left out was that his dingy apartment came with an absolute angle that lived next door. Kind hearted. Sweet. An absolute darling. You were one of the first people he’d interacted with when he moved in. All the nerves he had about living alone and growing accustomed to a regular life melted away the first day, when you came over with a plate of fresh cookies. 
He felt like a little boy whenever you were around, having the biggest crush on the prettiest girl on the playground, his mind going to mush whenever you smiled at him. But it wasn’t a crush. Nope. No....? No. He narrowed his eyes at himself before making his way to the door. 
“Buck? Did your tongue rust-” 
“I’ll uh-I’ll think about it” He mumbled before cutting the call, a bashful smile on his face as he unhooked the chain and swung the door open. “G’morning doll” 
“Good Morning” You grinned, handing Bucky the plate which he gratefully accepted, his stomach rumbling between the butterflies that fluttered in his tummy. “I heard you get in last night, didn’t think you’d have time to do a grocery run or cook anything” You handed him a bag of fruits and vegetables, two of those bags full of plums. His favorite. 
“You didn’t have to do all this” If his cheeks grew any warmer he would’ve sworn he was running a fever. And he didn’t get fevers. 
“You’re out saving the world, I think getting you a few groceries is the least I could do. So, how’s the new Captain?” You had never met Sam in person but hearing enough stories from Bucky told you all you needed to know. No one else was better suited to take on the shield than him. 
“A pain in my ass even if he means well” Bucky smiled shaking his head to himself. “He’s been pestering me to get out more...start dating” He mumbled the last part, wincing. He’d fought off aliens, gone to battle alongside a tree and a talking raccoon, survived being help captive by Hydra but being boyfriend material? His flirting game was as strong as pre serum Steve's right hook. 
“Well, handsome solider like you, shouldn’t be too hard to find you a date” You felt your own face heat up as soon as the words left your mouth but wasn’t like it was a secret. There was no way he would have had trouble in the dating department; aside from being one of the most beautiful people you’d laid your eyes on he was also the sweetest. Bucky was nothing but a gentleman and with a pure and soft heart and if you didn’t get your shit together and control the way he made you weak in the knees-
“Not the same ladies man I was in the 40′s doll” He chuckled, blue eyes sparkling at your compliment, “Either way, I got myself into a mess with that” He smiled sheepishly while you cocked your head, urging him to continue. 
“Well, I sort of lied to get him off my case” Bucky blushed, rubbing the back of his head, his the pink on his cheeks deepening at your cheeky smile. “I-I told him I already have a girlfriend but as you can see-” Bucky waved into his empty apartment that showed no signs of human life, “-it back fired immediately because he's invited my nonexistent girlfriend to a cookout this weekend. In Louisiana. With all his family. And friends”
Bucky let his head hit the wall with a dull thump, cursing himself for putting a foot in his mouth. Sure he could just come clean and say he lied. But that would mean admitting he lied and that was worse because then Sam would give him shit for that, plus try to get him out more and- 
“What if- what if I went with you?” Bucky’s head shot up, blinking in surprise at your words, wondering if he heard you correctly. “I could pretend to be your girlfriend for a day, get Cap off your case. Only if you’re comfortable with it though”
“Really? You’d do that?” You giggled at his lost puppy expression, his eyes lighting up when he realized you were being serious.
“Of course” You smiled sincerely,  “I’d be happy to! Just let me know what time to be ready at and I’ll be all yours” 
All his.  
The little boy in his was running around in circles, his heart beating too fast for the rest of his body to keep up. The thought of you being his girlfriend for a day was more than he could ever dream of. Of course it was only pretend and he’d wouldn’t dare push for more; not when you deserved the world. At the very least, he wouldn’t have to deal with Sam’s nagging. 
Problem solved. 
*****
This was a bad idea. 
A bad, bad idea. 
Bucky had gone through at least 4 outfits, debating between an array of Henley’s, before settling on a blue one when he remembered you complimented it because it was blue like his eyes. He picked up his razor and then immediately put it down when he remembered you once said you liked the scruff on him.  Even if this was just pretend, every single part of him was on edge as if this were a real date. As soon as his enhanced hearing picked up your soft footsteps padding down the hall, he was right by the door, nervously chewing his lip. 
Bucky blinked, his heart nearly giving way at 106 years old when he saw you make your way down the hall towards his apartment. You were in a flowery sundress, with a large cakebox in hand, your sweet perfume already making him dizzy. If Sam didn’t kill him for lying, the crush he had on you would be the next thing to take him out. 
"You-you look beautiful"  And sweet. And adorable. And delectable. 
An angel.
You looked like an angel. 
"Thank you, you look good too Sarge" You looked down at Bucky’s chest instead of meeting his eyes, unable to look at his pretty face. His adorable face. Handsome face. That dimple on his chin. Blue eyes. Pink lips. Fuck, you had such a big crush on him. 
It was going to be an interesting day. 
*****
Bucky parked the car at Sam’s place, which wasn’t too far from the lake where everyone had gathered. Part of him was almost sad they had made it on time; the car ride over with you ending faster than he’d liked.  
“He wasn’t kidding when he said he only invited family” Bucky snorted, seeing all of Sam’s relatives there along with his closest neighbors, many of whom he’d met before. He took the cakebox from you, slipping his hand into yours, smiling when you gave him a reassuring squeeze. You both made your way over, hand in hand, your heart skipping a beat each time someone greeted Bucky, every single person over joyed that he’d finally met someone to call his. 
He made his way over to the grill where Sam filliped a few burgers; the new Cap grinning when he saw you both. There was no missing the sparkle in his eyes when he looked down to your hand in Bucky’s, noting you were was holding his metal one, no longer covered by gloves. 
Interesting. 
“You’re lookin’ good” Sam wiggled his eyebrows at Bucky, loving the way the soldier rolled his eyes, trying to brush off the way his cheeks were dusted pink. 
“This is y/n, my girlfriend” Girlfriend. Bucky loved the way it rolled off his tongue with ease, not feeling an ounce of hesitance. The word previously feeling so foreign to him now felt so natural when he had you by his side. And holding your hand. And hearing your laugh. And-
Relax Bucky, it’s just for a day. 
“I’m Sam, and it’s very nice to meet you” He pulled you into a hug, still curiously eyeing Bucky, genuinely unable to figure out where he’d managed to find a sweetheart like you. 
“Thank you for the invite” you giggled as he gave you a light squeeze before letting you go, inspecting the cakebox Bucky handed to him. He grinned at the fresh strawberries that decorated the cake, shamelessly plucking one off and popping it into his mouth. “Strawberry shortcake. A little white wolf told me it was your favorite” 
“Well if the big bad wolf likes you then I like you cause he doesn’t like anybody. You must be special” Sam mused, a part of him wanting to be skeptical but there was nothing, absolutely nothing made up about the Bucky was looking at you. He gazed down at you as if you’d hung the moon and stars right in his room, an utterly lovesick puppy. You felt your cheeks heat up, burying your face into Bucky’s side while he chuckled, pulling you closer to him and pressing a kiss on top of your head. Damn right, she’s special. 
You both made your way over to mingle with the rest of the crowd, have no trouble at all playing the role of an utterly in love boyfriend and girlfriend. Bucky didn’t miss a single chance to press little kisses on your cheeks, every so often pecking your nose. His hand never left your waist, always holding you close to him, his face occasionally buried into the crook of your neck. 
You played your part almost better than he did, gushing over what a gentleman he always was to you, stayed tucked by his side, nuzzling under his chin, occasionally actually getting lost in his soft scent of laundry detergent, his cologne and something distinctly him. You made the elderly ladies giggle and blush each time Bucky did something adorable, proudly showing you off to everyone. 
He didn’t even let you eat without being the most perfect doting boyfriend. You’d both served your plates, finding a nice spot to sit under a shady tree; Bucky sat on the large lawn chair, secretly happy there was only one. You were about to walk off to get another when he tugged your wrist and pulling you back. 
“C’mere, I wont bite” Bucky grinned, surprised with himself as he pulled you onto his lap with ease. You let out a squeak, your nose bumping against his as you plopped onto him, lips nearly brushing his. 
“Smooth, Barnes. Remind me again, how you don’t have a girlfriend” You let out a breathless laugh, screaming to yourself on the inside that this was fake. He was playing the role perfectly, that was all. So fucking perfectly. 
Why was he so perfect. 
Bucky smirked, kissing your shoulder, letting you relax against his chest, wondering if you’d feel his heart hammering against his ribcage from how flustered he actually was. He easily maneuvered you so you sat comfortably across his thighs, his arm still securely around your waist. 
When was he ever this smooth. 
If anyone else was this close, he’s run for the hills, but now he was contemplating tossing you over his shoulder and running to Sam’s house, the guest bedroom was upstairs and two doors to the right-
“Well I’ll be damned, he really does have a girlfriend” Sam shook his head while Joaquin snorted, both men looking at you and Bucky with heart eyes while they sipping their beers from the docks. 
“You think they’re faking?” Joaquin nudged Sam’s shoulder, watching Bucky now fed you a piece of cake, still keeping you on his lap, sneakily kissing the cream from the corner off your lips between bites. You’d giggle every time, feeding him a strawberry, squealing when he’s playfully bite your fingers. 
“You can fake a lot of things but not the way he’d blushing and giggling like a toddler in a candy store” Bucky played with your fingers, intertwining them with his hand, his nose scrunching as he laughed at something you said. 
“It’s nice to see him like this” Joaquin had seen grumpy Bucky, grouchy Bucky, angry Bucky, scary Bucky, sleepy Bucky, just about every Bucky on the planet, but this? This was a first. Love struck Bucky. Charming Bucky. Happy Bucky. Simpy Bucky. Sappy Bucky. Giggly Bucky. Playful biting Bucky. Ready to get down on one knee if you’d let him, Bucky. 
“Steve always said he was a charmer, he wasn’t lying”
They couldn’t take their eyes off the way the corner of Bucky’s eyes crinkled each time he smiled or the way you’d instinctively lean into him when he spoke. He’d tuck your hair away from your face, his hands lingering on your cheek for a second longer, giving them a glimpse of the man from the 40′s before the war,  youthful and innocent, his heart full of hope, a smirk that would make his best girl swoon; the both of you in your own little world. 
“He looks happy”
Sam had seen people look happy before. They’d smile but their eyes would be empty. They’d laugh but their voices were hollow. They’d look like they were on top of the world while sitting at rock bottom. The way Bucky’s eyes sparkled, his boyish laugh, the way he’d nuzzle into you, trying to be closer to you than physically possible, was more than just looking happy. 
“He is happy”
Bucky had completely forgotten about pretending with you, lost in how perfectly you fit in his arms. You had taken up your role very seriously, telling him how utterly handsome he was, never missing moment to peck his scruffy cheek or card your fingers through his short soft locks. You intertwined you fingers with his vibrainium ones, busing your lips against his cool knuckles. 
At some point in the afternoon, he’d slipped his jacket off and wrapped you up with it as evening crept around the corner. Not a single person doubted the nature of your relationship; at least four of Sam’s uncles had told Bucky to propose soon. 
You don’t meet a girl who makes you this damn giggly just anywhere, Sergeant. Hold onto her. 
****
Just when he thought he couldn’t fall for you more, you had fallen asleep in his arms, contently snuggled up in his jacket as the sunset over the lake. Most of Sam’s family had gone back home, a few close relatives still hanging around the boat, sipping on coffee. Bucky couldn’t help but wrap his arms around you, softly kissing your forehead; he could get used to this. Cuddling up with you after date nights. Hearing your laugh. The softness of your lips. The way your hand always found itself in his metal one without hesitation. 
Fuck he wished this was real. 
You stirred slightly, a content sigh slipping past your lips at the feel of his kiss. Nothing felt more comfy than being wrapped up by the super soldier, his solid arms holding you close. You didn’t want to wake up, wishing you could sleep forever if it meant you’d be this close to Bucky all the time. The day felt like a dream; the exact dreams you had when you thought about your sweet neighbor. How it’d be for him to call you yours. To Be his girl. To make him smile. To make him laugh. 
If only it wasn’t just for a day. 
“You have a nice nap, baby?” Bucky smirked as you blinked awake, stretching on his lap like a cat before snuggling against him again. “My pretty girl” 
“Why wouldn’t I when my boyfriend is the comfiest spot to sleep on?” You teased, bringing your hand up to toy with the chain of his dog tags. Bucky chuckled, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes, kissing your nose. There was no one around you both, though neither of you seemed interesting in dropping the act just yet. 
“You fit perfectly here, doll” He grinned, blushing when he hesitantly pulled you a little closer, your arms moving to wrap around his shoulders, resting on the back of his neck. 
“I think I like it here” You sucked in a breath as he rested his forehead against yours, bringing his hand to cup your cheek. His nose gently bumped against yours, his warm breath tickling your lips. 
“Me too” He closed the gap between you both, pressing his lips to yours sweetly, savoring every bit of your softness. He couldn’t help but deepen the kiss as you parted your mouth letting his tongue lace with yours while your hand made its way through his hair, tugging on his short locks. Bucky let out a groan, letting his hands drop to your waist, kissing you for as long as he could until you both needed oxygen. 
“Maybe we can pretend for a little longer?” Bucky broke away, panting, his forehead still pressed against yours. You giggled between breaths, peppering kisses across his face. 
“Just a little longer?” 
“Maybe- maybe forever?” He looked at you with his classic puppy eyes, his heart bursting when you pulled him in for another kiss; forever. Forever sounded good. 
A few years later
“So, you finally gonna admit I made this happen?” Sam whispered while Bucky snorted, shaking his head. 
“Not gonna happen” 
“C’mon, I made this happen, I caused this” 
“You caused chaos” 
Sam scoffed in fake offence, taking a sleepy Becca from Bucky’s arms while the soldier went to go check on you. “Now when do I get to meet my second God child?”
“In a few hours” Bucky stretched before making his way back to your room, smiling at your resting form. He carefully laid down beside you, letting his hand splay across your tummy; in just a few more hours there would be a little Samuel Grant Barnes in the world. 
“We’re really good at pretending” You murmured, make Bucky chuckle, taking your hand in his and kissing the ring that sat on your finger. 
“Maybe just one more baby after this? Really convince them, Mrs. Barnes?”
*
“Uncle Sam, tell me a bedtime story?” Becca pouted, having been at the hospital for hours, giving Sam the exact same face Bucky gave you. Her little bottom lip jutting out, big (y/c/e) eyes blinking up at him. He grinned, settling her on his lap before he made a thinking face before asking what she’d want to hear. 
“What kinda story, Beccs, an animal story, a super cool falcon story or Captain America story or a flying Falcon Captain America story?” 
“The chaos daddy said you caused” She giggled while Sam nodded, taking a deep breath before starting. 
“It all started when your daddy said he had a girlfriend...”
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hanniejji · 2 years
Text
date me, please. oh, we're already dating?
[ kaedehara kazuha x s/o ]
summary: drunk and utterly wasted is kaedehara kazuha. but he's also drunk in love. it's a good thing you are too.
notes: was typing the phoenix fic but i have to get this out of the way so I DON'T KEEP GETTING DISTRACTED GOD DAMN IT KAZUHA | m.list
words: 928 | warnings: alcohol ofc
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you're about to punch venti into a pulp.
by the time your group had left the tavern, it was already dark and most of the city folk were already tucked inside their home, with the exception of a few knights and drunkards outside who greeted you a good night… and a concerned look at the boy hanging over your shoulders.
"i want… a ukulele!" he gushed, giggling uncontrollably, "did you see,"—he cuts himself with a giggle—"that one bard with a small… a veeeery small! oh it was a tiny little thing! with strings!"
"yes, i saw love. i was there with you."
the walk to the inn was quiet, only his occasional rambles of traveling, the things the wind tells him, and the random giggles that he does.
archons, he's adorable.
it didn't take long before you reached the inn, lugging kazuha over your shoulder across the stairs and to your room. the man simply fell into the bed like a sack of potatoes, plopping on the soft sheets with his whole weight. yet his face sports a dreamy smile—his eyes are still closed and he resumes his faint whispers of his dreams.
"you better be glad i love you enough to deal with this."
with slacking limbs and weary drowsy eyes from exhaustion—not to mention it's been a long day of traveling for the two of you, with the addition of xinyan—you quickly went around the room to clean up, taking a damp towel and a glass of water with you to the bedside table, taking a seat besides a giggling mess of a kazuha.
"love, are you asleep?"
he muttered something in response, eyes still shut and a loopy smile.
despite the extra weight on your way to the inn, you can't deny that the sight of kazuha being vulnerable and loose—albeit with the influence of alcohol—does not make you feel a little at ease. he doesn't make it look obvious, but kazuha had always been on the guard for something. perhaps it had been a natural thing for him to be cautious and careful even from his younger days, but it certainly makes you happy to see him having his moments to let his guard down, even for a while.
you just hope it won't always be from the influence of alcohol, he can barely handle a few drinks.
you press the damp towel on his forehead, wiping down around his face. your other hand thread through his hair, combing and taking it out from its usual ponytail.
at your concentration and inner state of mind, you failed to notice how his half-lidded and woozy eyes opened to stare at you. sluggish, but desperate to touch you in some way, he wraps his hand weakly around your wrist.
"love?" you glance down at him quizzically.
"am i your 'love'?"
"huh?"
he squinted his eyes right back at you, lips tilted to a pout.
"you called someone 'love'. am i not your 'love'? do you call someone else your 'love'?"
you couldn't stop yourself from huffing, amused. however, this only made him frown, an uncharacteristic whine coming from him and his hand that was holding your wrist flails in a mini tantrum.
"whyyy? why, why, why? why not meeee? are we not lovers?"
"kazu—"
"noooo," he whines, taking your hand to place sloppy kisses on your knuckles, "you can't call me by that name! date me right now! call me love! i love yooou, it's not fair!"
you just hoped that no one would complain about the loud laughing fit you made at this time of the night, but can they really blame you? here he is, drunk and being the most adorable idiot there is. who are you to not find this endearing?
"love—" you grin at the satisfied happy hum he made at the pet name, "—we're already dating."
his smile fell to a shock look, gasping audibly and his eyes lighting up, putting the moon and the lamp beside you to shame.
he looks very much awake—and breathtakingly handsome—despite being wasted.
"w-we are?"
ah, he looks as ecstatic as he did when you first reciprocate his feelings.
"yes, we are, love."
as if to accentuate your words, you litter kisses all over his face, grinning at the chimes of delighted giggles and slight upward tilt of his head. his face is practically asking for more kisses. flustered and pink in the cheeks, yet his drunken state seems to diminish his sense of bashfulness.
"i love you," he sang.
"i love you too, love."
he looks so content right now. his rosy cheeks lifted into a precious smile that only tempts you to kiss them—which you did, as you should—and the happy little giggles that he makes. you place another kiss on his nose.
"get some rest, love. we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."
he doesn't resist this time—probably because he got his dose of affection from you—easing into a curled position on the bed, your hand is still in his. the smile on his face softens, eyes shutting and his voice more sluggish.
"can you say it again?"
"which one, hm?
"say… say you love me again."
almost immediately, you leaned close to his ear, kissing just above his ear.
"i love you, kazuha."
"aga… again?" he drowsily asked once more, slipping into a peaceful sleep.
"i love you, kaedehara kazuha."
and i'd repeat it however many times you want me to.
"i love you too~"
maybe you won't beat venti into a pulp. for now, at least.
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everlastlady · 1 year
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Striker X Short Reader
┆ Author's Note: Hello! Welcome back my little imps, demonic sinners, and powerful overlords. Welcome to Striker X Short Reader. I thought this would be nice since I'm a short person, I'm like 5'2 in real life and always get mistaken for a kid and just the look on people's face when I tell them how old I am, is absolutely hilarious, but I hope all my shorties enjoy this story.
┆ Story Contains: Smut
┆ Fandom: Helluva Boss
┆ Word Count: 823
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Striker is used to meeting people who are short and he especially enjoys teasing them a bit. But he just loved teasing you, calling things like, “ Short thing, “ Little demon, or “ Small creature “ You didn’t mind Striker’s teasing but sometimes it could be annoying. When he tools things from you, he would hold them up high and laugh when you would try to jump up and try to grab them. He would give it back and tussle your hair. “ I’m sorry pumpkin, you are so small and cute. “ He said while chuckling.
He would grab things off high places if he saw you struggling. Striker knows you love to do things for yourself but that could often lead you to hurting yourself. So if Striker saw you reaching for something. He would give you a hand either grabbing it with his hand or tail. Sometimes he would lift you so that you could grab. He did this because he didn’t want to see you hurt yourself like last time. You had fallen off the counter trying to grab a box of cereal and fell and ended up breaking your arm.
Striker is careful when you two wrestle each other and play fight. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He usually uses his tail to throw you on the couch or bed. He doesn’t put too much of his weight on you when he sits on you. But for some reason, you don’t take it easy on Striker so he calls you a little gremlin or puppy when you bite him. Striker would just chuckle but for a short person, you pack a punch and that’s what Striker likes about you, you may be short but you are ready to fight and not give up.
He thinks you look adorable when wearing his clothes, especially his hat. “ Hey look I’m Striker, howdy howdy. “ You would say as Striker would roll his eyes and take by his hat. “ Ha ha, very funny darlin’ “ But he did have a few pictures of you wearing his clothes because he found it cute. The only thing Striker had wore that belonged to you was your necklace, calls it his good luck pendant.
When he brings you to the saloon he is very protective of you because a lot of assassins, hitmen, criminals, and scum asses drink there. So he will keep his tail around your waist if he sees someone flirting with you or coming up to you both. He knows you can handle yourself, he just doesn’t want you getting roughed up just in case there is a fight.
When you guys sleep together you are usually spooning with you being the little spoon but if you beg Striker enough, he is willing to be the little spoon. But sometimes you sleep on top of Striker which is nice because he’ll rub circles on your back. In the morning is nice because he’ll pick you up off him and set you aside then tickle you awake, has he gotten punched once? Yeah, he has but he has learned how to dodge.
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When you, guys are having passionate smoking sex, Striker has you on top of him. Ride a cowboy save a horse! Striker loves hearing your gasps and moans when he places his hands on your hips. Oh, how you tremble on top of your cowboy. You love hearing his huffs and growls
But when Striker is on top of you, he’ll cage you with his body while he pounds into you. Your little whines make him smirk when he drags his tongue across your neck and marks up your neck, collarbone, and chest. When you cry out his name it only makes him pound deeper into you. Seeing your eyes roll back brings him joy as he whispers how good you are being. “ Oh, darlin’, you are being so good, let me hear you say my name again, come scream how much you love. Let me hear it ~ “
Will he tie you up while you ride him? Yeah, He’ll place your hands behind your back and bound your wrist together and let you ride him while he holds you. He thinks it's adorable watching you squirm, whine, and beg him to let you cum. If he’s feeling kinky enough maybe he’ll choke you but you both have a safe word. Because if there is one thing Striker doesn’t want to hurt you too bad or make you uncomfortable.
This cowboy knows about aftercare so he’ll praise you on how good you were and then wash you up. He’ll give you sweet kisses and let you know how much you mean to him. He’ll help you put on your pajamas, then make you a nice meal and get you something to drink. If you fall asleep, he will hold you close and rub your back. “ I love you, darlin’ “ He’ll say then fall asleep holding you close.
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hunnylagoon · 5 months
Text
Take Me to War
PT1 Friendly Fire
Streamer! Ellie Williams x reader
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A writer, I think is someone who pays attention to the world. We are observers, it is in our nature to be off-putting and turn shallow things deep.
Premise: Your neighbour is becoming increasingly loud and you decide to do something about it.
PT 2 Here!
Two things I hate the most?
My neighbour and New York City.
They shared something in common, they never rest. I liked my quiet life in my small town until I was convinced that all of the greatest writers lived in the city, what a joke. I sold my virtue to move to New York and now my body burned with the shame of not belonging.
I worked as a journalist and in advertisement but it didn't fill the gaping mass that consumed me, I felt like a sellout so I quit to do freelance, and now I feel like even more of a sellout. Freelance is making me think that I hate ghostwriting more than I hate my neighbour and New York City.
It's like you do all of the work and get zero reward but I'm desperate to pay the bills and all that stuff I've been telling myself all my life 'I may never be a rich man but the rich man will never have me' well, the rich man most certainly had me. I was paid an almost criminal amount of money to pour my soul into art just for it to get stamped beneath a new name and make a gross income six times the size of what I sold it for.
I look for happiness everywhere but I do not find it. I search for it in things everyone seems to pry joy from; I go clubbing, walk in Central Park, and date around, but happiness doesn't seem to exist there for me.
I plead for it in my morning cups of tea with a spoonful of honey, the sunshine glittering in a puddle after a rainstorm, for a brief moment, it flickers in the light of my cinnamon-scented candle. The truth is I am almost comforted by my sadness and it is in my lowest moments that my creations are the most beautiful, it is like I am dead and I despise those who aren't for I enjoy the company of my silence more than anyone I have ever met.
It was my dream for my name to be above 'New York Times Best Selling Author' but instead, it is just my work beneath it and maybe that's why I'm so bitter.
Right now as I am trying to salvage the bits and pieces I was given by a washed-up pop star for her memoir my neighbour is screaming and laughing incoherently in their apartment, it makes me miss living in an actual house.
The noise usually started up when I would finish up my writing and get ready for bed, then it would go all the way through the night. The dumb fucker probably threw parties every single night; my roommate never faced an issue with this as she worked at a club and was usually working when the deafening noises would begin.
I on the other hand who lived in that apartment and worked from that apartment was always cursed to listen to the random thumps and spats of laughter that sounded all through the night. At least once a night when I'm sound asleep, I hear a bang against the wall and each time without fail, I'm brought awake with my heart thumping.
Trust me, I have retaliated.
On occasion when I'm sleep-deprived and at my absolute limit I'll bang on the walls, that only stops the noise for a minute. I've even complained to my landlord and that one week was heaven until it eased back to the clamour that I've almost grown used to.
Almost.
I still hate it.
I'm broken from my thoughts when my phone rings, it vibrates till it's almost at the edge of my desk and I feel for it; don't worry buddy, I wanna jump too. I read the caller ID and I almost wanted to gag, it was a woman from the publishing company who reached out to me and asked me to write Nicole Elliot's novel. Despite wanting to throw my phone against the wall to stop Noemi's constant checkups and get back at my neighbour while I'm at it, I answer the phone "Hey, Noemi!" I glance out the window where the winter sun has long set, leaving nothing but billboards, street lamps and neon signs to light up the New York night. Under the unforgiving lights I can barely make out the gentle snowfall.
"Hey," She draws it out and I can hear in her voice that she is smiling "I know it's a little late, just checking in, how is the draft coming along?" A loud thump sounds against my wall along with intolerant cackling "What's that?"
"Just some street noise," I dismiss "Anyways, the draft is coming along great, I'm a couple thousand words away from finishing it. I will of course send it to you and I would really love it if you could reach out to Nicole and ask for her opinion on it before I carry on with the final copy," I give a middle finger to my wall, even if my neighbour can't see me, it makes me feel a little bit more formidable "I did follow her outline, which was difficult but I think I salvaged it pretty well."
This time there is a yelp from my neighbour and what sounds like someone slamming their hands down onto a table, Noemi thankfully ignores it "You haven't been in touch with Nicole?"
My eyebrows furrow "She hasn't responded to any of my emails and she's been turning down all of our scheduled Zoom calls, so no, I have not been in touch with her."
"Weird," Noemi comments and there is a brief break of silence between us "She's been M.I.A on our end too," I could hear her scribble something down. "So can you get the draft to me by Friday?"
Two days? If I lock myself inside and don't see the sun then I totally can "Absolutely!" I do work better under a deadline.
"Great," She sounds almost relieved "We will hunt down Nicole, it would be nice to get her greenlight with this but whether or not she approves it, she has already signed off and it will be going to print."
"Okay," I fight the urge to respond with 'sick' or 'aight' because I'm an adult now and someone who is masquerading as a professional.
"Sorry, what was that you mentioned about an outline?" Noemi asks, she sounds more confused with each word "I wasn't aware Nicole made any-
She is swiftly cut off by a crash from the other side of my wall, when I say crash I mean it. It sounded like someone just bodied their car into drywall. My eyes went wide as I saw a crack splitting up my once pristine white wall. I hold my phone against my collarbone as I get up and pound my fist against the wall, giving it a kick for extra measure.
"Is everything alright?"
"Certainly," The nice thing about phone calls is that the person on the other end can't see your awkward habits or subtle outbursts (Or neighbours breaking through your shared wall). After I hit the wall, everything went silent for just a second before laughter sounded heavily from multiple people. "Noemi, thank you for sourcing me out to write this, I am really grateful for this opportunity I will send you that draft on Friday." I try to wrap up the call but she speaks up.
"Well, I've read your work and I was very impressed, I trust you will do well with this. Sorry to have called you so late-
"Thanks, have a nice night now!" I'm talking faster than I can even think, the only thing in my head is the fact that my neighbour is slowly deteriorating my wall.
"Wait-
Before Noemi can finish her sentence, I've hung up the phone. I'm leaning back in my cushy office chair, hands gripping my hair as I stare down the newly formed crack in the wall. I don't entirely like to be confrontational, even in school I hated drama, but I was beginning to think it was necessary.
I saved the progress I had made on the memoir and pushed myself up from my desk. I was clad in nothing more than a t-shirt and some plaid pants, it was my writing attire and in the moment I didn't care much to make a good first impression. It was fucking freezing the second I got up from my desk.
The moulding on my bedroom window was broken which allowed the frigid New York air to slip into my room and make me shiver with each breath. At my desk, I would usually have a throw blanket to shroud my freezing body but the moment I discarded it, I felt regret. I almost wanted to wrap myself in it to confront my neighbour but the pyjamas alone didn't help me look tough.
I did however shove my feet into some cow slippers and march right up to their apartment.
Apartment 2D stood in front of me, the pastel blue door making me angrier with every second that I looked at it. I rapped my knuckles on the wood and crossed my arms to stop me from shuddering.
My nerves built up as I slowly heard a door within the apartment shut followed by footsteps leading to the door. I would just ask them politely to quiet down and calmly work on a way to fix the shared wall that they are slowly ruining.
The door opens and staring me down is a woman. I had expected it to be a man to be truthful. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, the colour teetered on the verge of auburn and brown. The woman is clad in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, it's almost parallel to my outfit.
"You need to be quiet," I say the first words that come to mind "And stop assaulting my fucking wall."
She sucks a sharp breath through her teeth "Are you apartment 3D?" She asks to which I nod "I knew you would be stopping by soon." She has this sheepish and almost sardonic smile on her face and despite the amusement she's portraying I can see sadness brewing in her green eyes like a storm.
"I don't know what you're doing in there where you are up all night, I don't even have a clue how you sleep and work with all this time to spare to be a nuisance." I say and then swiftly feel the urge to backtrack "I'm sorry, that was a little rude, but mate, I can't sleep or work when you're being loud doing whatever you do."
"Fuck," She mutters looking back into her apartment and then at me "I'm sorry, I'll keep it down."
"What about the wall?"
Her eyes look me up and down, settling on my cow slippers "I'll find someone to fix the wall."
I press my lips tight together, looking dead into her eyes, scraping my brain for something else to say. It was almost like I wanted to fight. I had expected this to be a full-out conversation that ended in yelling but god she was pretty and she was telling me just what I wanted. "Okay."
"Okay?"
I regard her once more with what I assume is a cold glare before ushering back into my apartment and slamming the door behind me, the whole time, my neighbour watches me from her doorway.
That was the first night of uninterrupted sleep I'd had in a month.
-
I woke up earlier than I would've liked when my roommate Margot came home from work at 4:56 on the dot. She made sure to slam every single door and cupboard before throwing herself onto her bed in all of her makeup and musty clothes that had to endure whatever happens at a nightclub between the hours of 8 pm and 4 am, which I can't imagine is very clean.
Still, even though I was a little ahead of schedule I fell into my morning routine. It started with ignoring my phone, this was followed by a mug of Bengal spice tea with a teaspoon of honey and a splash of cream.
Sometimes I would curl up on the couch, though it snowed last night and I loved fresh snow. Freshly fallen snow absorbed sound, it was like soundproofing for the earth. There wasn't anything like the rare peace you could find in New York. I figured I would have my morning tea on the fire escape.
My peaceful image was destroyed the second I pried my window open and crawled through I was hit with the intense smell of pot. "Shit," I mutter, instinctively wafting the scent away from my nose.
"Sorry, man," I see my neighbour leaning against the railing of the fire escape, nursing a joint. It hadn't crossed my mind that I shared a level of the fire escape with her, I had never seen her out here but now the smell of weed that drifted through the damaged moulding on my window made sense, I had always assumed it to be Margot.
"Joint for breakfast?" I ask, half-joking. A dusting of powdery snow adorns each step and railing, creating a delicate layer of white that contrasts with the industrial gray of the metal though it looks like my neighbour has pushed all of the snow off the platform.
"Nah, for dinner I guess, it helps me sleep," She's in the same outfit from last night, except her hair is now loose around her face and she threw a hoodie over her tanktop.
I furrow my eyebrows "You've been up all night?" The slight tension from the previous night has dissolved completely.
"Yeah," She says it like it was a stupid question and it partially was but I hadn't stayed up that late since New Year only because I was the designated driver and was in charge of getting everyone home safe. "I don't sleep much, that's probably why I keep you up all night."
I mean, I'd let her keep me up in other ways "Honestly, I've gotten used to it, it's almost like white noise." I try to sympathize even if it isn’t necessarily true.
"Next time I'm loud, you have every right to bang on my door and chew me out." She takes a drag from her joint and I watch as the smoke escapes her lips, her cheeks tinted pink from the cold.
"Good to know," I glance behind her at the open window and all I see are purple LED lights cutting through the darkness of her apartment. "Now I know that we share a fire escape I'll just crawl through your window and yell at you that way," I joke, taking a sip from my snoopy mug.
This makes her laugh in the slightest, she crushes what remains of her joint on the cold railing and tosses the bud into the pot of a dead plant that's covered in snow and has lived on this fire escape long before I moved in; one time I just about removed it but I felt bad, it's like I was evicting it from its rightful home "Feel free."
"Am I allowed to ask why you're up all night breaking the sound barriers?" I ask, pulling my fuzzy robe tighter around my body to fight the bitter air. "Are you the leader of a cult? Would it be better for the world in the long run if I push you right now?"
The corners of her lips curl up into a smile once again "You've figured me out, just know I've got some big plans with Koolaid," She plays into my teasing.
"It was flavour-aid, actually." I don't know why I said that.
"What the fuck is flavour-aid?"
"Koolaid basically," Silence stretches between us "So what do you actually do all night?"
"It's a bit complicated," She says, of course, it was complicated. "I work from home," She couldn't do something normal, she probably did voice acting or ran a podcast or some weird shit like that.
"Sick," Don't worry, I made myself cringe when I said that too "I work from home too."
"Yeah, you said something about work last night, are you in marketing?"
I shake my head "I'm a writer," every time I tell someone that, I feel a twinge of embarrassment. I know it wasn't a noble career like my parents had hounded me over, but it felt noble to me. I had two absent parents and was raised by a pack of wolves, I would devour as much food as fast as I could because I didn't know when I would be eating next. I was far too emotional to be around all of the narcissists who preferred their own faces to my company, the only friend I had was the written word.
Since then I have been serving my soul up to strangers through word documents.
The thought makes me homesick for the arms that did not hold me and I truly expect my neighbour to make a mockery of me, the way others have. The way they've told me 'It's a tough industry but hang in there!' and pat me on the back like I'm a hopeful child clinging to her mother's skirts.
"That's really cool," She smiles while she gazes out to the skyline, I can see her perfect side profile and ski-slope nose "I wanted to be a writer, I thought myself to be a poet, and then I thought myself to be a scientist and wanted to be an astronaut. Now, I'm here."
"Where's here exactly?"
"Working things out, figure it out as I go," She shrugs like she is unsure of her answer.
I think it's beautiful how everything around me has been touched by human hands and carries so much history. For a quick moment, my mind wonders to those who built this building, the calloused hands that crafted the iron railing and now my neighbour who was leaning against it. "What's the end goal with this whole freefall thing?"
"To make it out alive."
"And your name?"
"It's Ellie."
-
That night Ellie stuck to being quiet as she promised. The next night was a different story. I was so close to finishing the draft of Nicole Elliot's memoir and was praying that the deadline would pass with no issue.
However, the noise began again. I was coming around to like Ellie and I didn't want to go yell at her again so I shoved my headphones in and turned up my playlist as loud as I could. There is no song I can blast in my headphones to drown it out.
She did say that the next time I was loud I could come and chew her out, I wouldn't do that; I would just knock on her door and quickly tell her that she was being too loud, and then we would both carry on with our respective work.
I stopped in front of the smooth door and raised my hand to knock. Ellie slips the door open just a crack, when she sees that it's me she opens the door. "Hey, Ellie."
"Hello," She smiles "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She had a very nice smile.
We both know the circumstances of my visit but I spell it out anyway "Dude, you're way too loud, it's disruptive and I'm working under a deadline."
"I know, I'm sorry." She looks genuinely apologetic.
"I don't know any office job that needs you to scream for hours on end," Alright, that blows what could've been a simple visit where she apologizes and I leave, I always had to add on.
"Right, sorry," She carries herself with so much confidence that it is like she is wearing armour made of gold though she has these subtle awkward tendencies of someone who has never been loved and was forced to improvise. "It's hard to explain,"
"Yeah, you've said-
"Do you wanna come and see?"
I'm taken a little aback and for a minute I think this is all a ploy for Ellie to lock me in her her apartment and kill me because she is sick of her neighbour banging on her door "What?"
"Well, you've asked a couple of times and if you have a minute I can show you."
I pause, mauling over her proposal. I think of my laptop on my spruce desk, open to the final pages of the memoir and I make up my mind "Alright, just not too long."
"If you say so," Ellie opens the door wider for me to move past her and then shuts it behind us.
Ellie's apartment is what I had expected from her even though it is surprisingly nice. She has a large L-shaped sofa in the living room adorned with throw blankets and pillows and a huge flatscreen with a coffee table in front of it. The layout is exactly like mine but inverted, her open kitchen has some odd knick-knacks that looked like they belonged on an Amazon must-haves list.
I don't go into her bathroom and the door leading to one of the rooms (What is equivalent to Margot's bedroom) is shut. The apartment itself is pretty sparse aside from little bits and pieces as she only moved in a month prior.
On the left side, I see that purple LED spilling out of what I assume to be her bedroom.
She walks in ahead of me and the second I follow in after her there is one question I have to ask "Ellie, are you a porn-star?" There are entirely too many computers in here. Her desk is set up with one of those fancy triple-screen PCs and she has a laptop placed seemingly randomly on a white loveseat that's pressed against the right wall.
There is one of those galaxy lamps that projects that trippy shit onto your walls and ceiling. The screen of her PC is facing our shared wall and I can see a huge hole where I assume that a loud crash from the other night occurred. Plastered all over the walls are posters from video games and movies, many of which I hadn't seen.
"What?" She sounds nearly offended "No," she grabs a folding chair from the corner of the room and unfolds it beside her black florid office chair. She sits on the folding chair and motions for me to sit in the office chair. "Come, sit."
I hesitantly sit in the chair "Are you going to attack me now?" I ask, getting defensive for no particular reason other than it was in my nature "Because I've read The Outsiders and I'm pretty sure I can fight."
She chuckles "I'm not gonna fight you."
"Because I'd win?"
She furrows her eyebrows but has this look of amusement on her face "Yeah, definitely."
"So what is this?" I motion around at all of her equipment.
Ellie puts one earbud in then hand me the other "Chat," She says, looking dead at the camera clipped onto her PC "This is my neighbour who came to yell at me for being annoying, she has every right."
"Who are you talking to?"
"I'm streaming," She said, clicking something on the screen so it changed, instead showing Ellie and I in front of the camera, I looked absolutely lost next to a rolling chat bar full of jokes that I didn't understand and people saying hello to me.
"So I was right," I turn my attention to Ellie "You are an internet person."
"Yeah, I'm an internet person but you weren't right, I don't do porn."
"Not yet," I shrug "Times are desperate," To this, the chats come in even faster than before. "So do you just sit here all night and scream at people?"
"I play video games and do challenges, sometimes I do just sit here and scream at them."
"That makes so much sense," I say "If there's any job that needs you to be obnoxiously loud and annoying, it's a youtube personality."
"Okay, well-
"So you're like Logan Paul?"
Her eyes go wide "No-
"What explains why your eyes are so bloodshot."
"You are a writer," She says it like it's a fact I wasn't aware of "You are in no place to judge, you probably spend as much time in front of a screen as me."
I nod "I hate to say you're right," My attention shifts to the hole behind me "Can you explain how playing video games put a hole through the wall?"
Ellie looks almost embarrassed, she doesn't say anything in response, instead, she just clicks something to screen share with us in a little box in the corner and then goes into YouTube. She types in 'Ellie Williams falls through wall' My eyebrows furrow as I read it, and she clicks the first video that pops up.
The video starts off strong; Ellie is cackling at something that her friend off-camera is saying, her friend then makes a comment that makes her laugh even harder and she throws herself back in her chair. This act breaks it, you can hear the chair snap beneath the pressure and Ellie just lets it happen as the chair crashes against the wall. Her eyes go wide when she realizes she's just put a massive hole into the wall and seconds later you can hear me on the other side banging my hands on the wall. Her eyes go wide and she stares at her friend off-camera, all of the laughter stops abruptly before her friend can't hold it in anymore and erupts in chortles, and the video cuts off.
My hand flies over my mouth to fight back the laughter I so badly want to let out. Ellie and I sit wordlessly, the only sound being donations on the screen and my giggles slipping through. Eventually, I manage to compose myself and look to Ellie, I don't have much to say except for "Oh my god."
A/N: Streamer! Ellie won the poll so here we are. As I was drafting out the other chapters for When I Was Your Girl, I decided that it is most likely to be discontinued unless I do a rewrite which will not be in the near future. I’m not rocking with the plot and there was a lot of mixed feedback, sorry if you were invested I guess, but you have this series to be invested in now!
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charlotteking23 · 6 months
Note
Can I request any headcanon or Oneshot of Batmom calling the Batfamily by their names? Batmom always calls them nicknames (sweetie, babybird or somenthing), so the Battys think she's upset.
Sorry if it's written wrong or it is not understood!! My main language is not English 😓😓
sure I would love to.
NICKNAMES
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Early in the morning, Batmom lies there in her bed staring at the wall. At 6 in the morning, no one was awake except for the infamous Batman sitting next to her.
"Honey, what's wrong why are you up?" To Bruce, it was very unusual to see her up early for she had a habit of sleeping till 10 in the morning.
"Nothing Bruce", and Batmom stood up from her bed and left for the bathroom.
"SHIT, SHIT! what did I do?"
that's all he could think because she NEVER called him Bruce unless she was upset at him. He thinks of all the things he had done the latest skipping a gala and lying to her about an emergency when he was really hanging out with Superman and Wonderwomen.
Batmom came out of the bathroom and left towards the kitchen. There Tim sat at the table with a huge cup of coffee in his hand. He expected a hi or hello but nothing just an awkward silence.
"Hey Mom", but she grunted and said, "hi Tim."
OH MY GOSH, Tim was in complete panic, forgetting about his coffee. She always calls me Timmy, Fuck what did he do?
Finally, Dick comes and sees Tim in complete panic. "What's wrong with you?"
All Tim does is point. To Dick's shock, he points at his mother. Dick thought nothing of it and greeted his mom and gave her a hug like every morning. But to his surprise, His mom didn't greet him back nor return the hug.
"Mama, are you okay? I am fine Dick"
What where's my nickname. Dick looks at Tim and Tim just looks completely horrified. He sees his mom leave and goes back upstairs.
"Alright, Tim fess up what did you do?" said dick. "Me this could have been easily you, Maybe Mom found out about you breaking her very expensive vase," Tim said defending himself. "Well, it's not like you are innocent, Mom probably found out that you're the one who's been finishing all her expensive French coffee," Dick said as a comeback.
"Alright Dickhead, why is mom so angry?" Jason comes walking behind him, "I have no clue she's been acting strange all morning AND SHE DIDN'T CALL ME BY MY NICKNAME," Dick says wiping his tears.
jason says, "Huh same, she usually calls me Baby Bird but she just stood there staring at me". "Maybe, Jason, she found out how you snook out to patrol even though you are grounded," Tim says. Jason says in response, probably... "WAIT how did you know about that Tim. I Know everything... you have cameras around the house don't you Tim," Dick said. "Maybe, Idk", Tim said with an evil grin.
"Okay, guys come on let's go upstairs and apologize to whatever we did," Dick said. "Fine Dickh"-, Jason said but was interrupted... AHHHHHHHHH
"what the hell! I think my eardrum exploded," said Tim
"come on guys, someone could be in trouble," Dick said. "Okay, dickhead calm down," Jason says.
"Damian what's wrong, Ummi said Damian instead of Dami. What did you idiots do this time?"
"Hold on demon spawn we didn't do anything let's ask Dad," Tim suggested.
"Dad, what's happening with mom?" Dick says
"I don't know Dick your mother has been acting weird since this morning and she even woke up early like 6 in the morning early." [GASP], Bruce answers.
"Damn, what the hell did we do?" Damian says.
"shut up demon spawn, I am trying to think," Jason continues.
"Hi, kids... MOM/UMMI!!," Batmom says out of nowhere.
"Kids, I am very disappointed in you," Batmom continues
"But mom we don't even know what we did wrong," dick said, and collectively everyone said yeah.
"Sweethearts, why is there a FUCKING COW on my lawn," Batmom yelled out.
"OHHHHHHHH, yeah Mom we all decided to get a cow," Dick answered truthfully. "Shhhhh dickhead don't get me involved," Jason says slapping Dick behind his head
"Well, I am so glad you told me what happened, so here you go," Batmom says while handing everyone a paper.
"What's this Honey?" Bruce said while taking the paper in his hand
"well, that's the list of chores and you all are grounded for a month!!!" Batmom said yelling.
"WAIT, DOES THAT MEAN I AM GROUNDED FOR TWO MONTHS STRAIGHT", Jason shouted in fear.
"No, Babybird, you all are grounded for two more months since you all exposed yourself when trying to figure out why I was upset with you guys", Batmom said with her hands on her hips.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!," Jason shouted.
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koolades-world · 2 months
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can i have the om brothers dealing with insomniac+workaholic!mc? Diavolo made a grave fucking mistake when unwillingly inviting mc to the devildom. can't sleep? work. bored? work. have nothing else to do? ask Lucifer or Diavolo for more work to do, or maybe cook something for Beel.
also, insomnia isn't easy to deal with. they have to pull out the strongest sleep potion or magic out there for that fucker to sleep. "oh have you tried melatonin?" YES I HAVE?? I'VE TRIED- "do you turn off your lights when you go to sleep?" no, i sleep with the lights on-- OF COURSE I TURN OFF THE LIGHTS YOU FUCKIN BALL LICKER. "maybe stop being on that phone of yours at late at night.." I CAN'T FUCKING SLEEP SO I MIGHT AS WELL DO SOMETHING.
whenever mc runs out of things to do, they re-do an assignment that got less than a 100% score.. someone drag this dymbfuck away from their work..
can i be🍷anon? or glass-eater anon? :3
hello!! yes, of course
those are both amazing anon names haha, welcome to the anon crew
enjoy <3
Workaholic Insomniac Mc
Lucifer
you can bet both of yall are making eye contact in the hallway at four am, and neither of you have slept
he gets you bestie
however he's willing to acknowledge both of you are practicing an unhealthy habit
together, you can take days off and as much as you itch to do work, you can stop each other. what a fun bonding activity!
Mammon
this is just like dealing with lucifer so he knows the drill
let you work as much as you want during the day without shirking your other responsibilities, but after dinner, he's dragging you away from it by the back of your shirt
when he can't fall asleep, he goes for a night drive, to nowhere in particular
so, he always invites you, because he knows you can't say no to him
Levi
he's also almost always awake at odd hours of the night, so he's always available
he would not be great to work in the same room as though
however he is willing to get you away from your work for a while to play some games with him
he knows that you need time away from that paper work and as much as you want to go back to it, he'll keep you with him until you complete the level. mark his word haha
Satan
will help you make those sleeping potions, or has solomon make some for you
if you ever want help with your work, he's willing to lend a hand, even though he knows you almost always say no
whenever you're awake at night, he'll come and sit where ever you're sitting to read so you'll have company
more often than not, he and belphie are next to you while you work as a silent indicator of what, or who, is waiting for you when you're done or want to take a break
Asmo
he fully believes in relaxing before bed and since he loves it so much, he suggests you try it with him
the first night you tried didn't really go as planned because he got a little overexcited so you had to try again the next night
that goes much better, and while it wasn't instant sleep, it was certainly better than staring at the ceiling for hours
plus, you get to spend time with asmo! who doesn't want that?
Beel
he won't lie he does enjoy the occasional impromptu meal you make for him when you've really got no more work to do (which is rare)
but he's concerned about you
honestly he thinks you're just like lucifer, you sincerely care about those around you and you work with them in mind
if you ever find random refreshments on your desk in the few moments you were gone, just know it was probably him
Belphie
as the self proclaimed king of sleep, he's always going out of his way to try and help you out
sometimes he falls asleep on your bed waiting for you to join him, while satan is still somehow going strong with his reading
if he notices you sitting at your desk for far too long, he'll start to whine and complain until you get in bed with him
sometimes, while he feels guilty, he'll use his power to help you fall asleep faster and give you a sweet dream that's usually about him
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gamergirl-niffler · 8 months
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A Day Off || Erasermic x Fem!reader
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Warnings: smut (unprotected p in v x2), double penetration, pet names (Songbird and Kitten), double creampies
Synopsis: In a steamy moment, Shota, Hizashi, and their girl find solace in each other's arms
A/N: Hello Welcome to another day of Kinktober '23 Collaboration! Little Niffler is here to deliver yet another steamy work! Hope you will Enjoy! Today's prompt: Threesome
🎤Masterlist🐱
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Mornings were always your favorite. Every day, it was calm and nice. Music played quietly in the background, as you didn't want to wake up your two beloved Pros, who needed well-deserved rest after a long night of work.
Thankfully, it was one of the rare days when they could just have a day off and rest. So you decided to prepare them a warm, tasty coffee to start the morning. Dressed in just panties and a long t-shirt, you walked around the kitchen.
Suddenly, arms wrapped around your waist, startling you a little. At first, you thought that Shota couldn't sleep, as usual, but long, blond hair falling all over you told you otherwise. "Good morning, Hizashi," you hummed, reaching back to stroke his hair. "Someone forgot to tie his hair when he got home."
He laughed at your words and nodded, sighing deeply. "Good morning, songbird. I was too tired; all I wanted was to snuggle with people I love. Shota is still out cold. Hey, did you listen yesterday?"
You turned in his arms and nodded. "What a silly question. You know I always listen to your radio show."
"What did I do to deserve such a loyal listener?"
"Guess you were just lucky enough," you shrugged and let out a surprised whimper when Hizashi suddenly kissed you. Someone was needy first thing in the morning, not that you minded, of course. It was more than welcome. You returned the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.
After pulling away, you looked at him. "We can't leave our grumpy cat out. He will complain later."
Yamada smiled. "Go to him then, songbird. I'll join the two of you soon."
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You sneaked into your shared bedroom and got into bed next to Shota. Luckily for you, he had a habit of sleeping shirtless.
Your lips placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, and then you moved them down to his neck before traveling even further down to his chest. This stirred him awake as you positioned yourself between his legs, planting more kisses on his lower belly.
Shota groaned and looked down at you. "That's a nice way to wake up, kitten. Where's the loud one?"
"He will join us soon. Don't worry, just enjoy," you purred, pulling down his sweatpants and freeing his cock, which now stood proudly against his belly. Your mouth watered at the simple sight of him. You wrapped your lips around his tip before taking more of his length into your mouth, your hand cupping his balls and giving them a gentle squeeze once in a while.
He moaned, moving hand into your hair, praising you and pushing you just a little bit.
"And I am called the needy. Yet you push her down on your cock first thing in the morning," Hizashi looked at the two of you, enjoying the view of you between Shota's legs, swallowing his cock almost fully. He sat next to Shoto and pushed his hand into your hair, pulling it back. "Oh, I almost forgot. Good morning to you, grumpy," Hizashi chuckled and pulled him into a kiss.
You moaned at the sight and slipped his cock out of your mouth, simply watching them.
The blond man chuckled, looking at you. "Well, well, well. Look at that! Our songbird enjoys watching us like this, huh? Do you remember what we talked about yesterday?"
You just blinked, confused, while Shota nodded. "Oh, yes, and since we all are awake, let's do it."
Before you knew it, they were both on their feet with you sandwiched between their bodies. Your shirt and panties were just thrown onto the floor, together with their clothes.
Shota was in front with your legs comfortably wrapped around his waist, while Hizashi was behind you, gently squeezing and playing with your breasts. "So, as we discussed yesterday, I think she deserves two. Do you think she can handle it?"
"Sure she can. She's our lovely kitten, and it won't be the first time," the other man shrugged.
You gasped and looked at them, completely confused about what they were talking about. "What are you... Fuck!" you moaned, taken aback by the sensation of two cocks pushing into you.
Your head rested against the blond's shoulder as you did your best to relax and accommodate their cocks. They both penetrated you fully, and you all let out deep sighs in unison as they filled you.
"Such a good kitten, taking us both like a pro," Shoto praised as they started to move, making you moan loudly. "I wonder how loud she can sing for us today. I want to make that pretty voice go hoarse from screaming our names," Hizashi purred, wrapping his hand around your throat.
Every thrust made you whimper, the way they both filled you so perfectly, your walls squeezing around their cocks, gradually building that knot in your lower belly.
Shota smiled. "Look at our kitten, so cute. Getting pleasured by two men at once and enjoying it," he laughed and kissed you while Hizashi's hand moved around your waist to stimulate and tease your clit. "Be a good songbird and cum for us."
You moaned into the kiss as your feet curled, and they started to thrust even harder. Two men satisfying you, with your clit being stimulated, made the tension in your belly snap as you reached a climax with a loud moan.
They both groaned at how tightly your walls squeezed around both of them. "Wow, Kitten," Shota moaned and kissed you deeply as he released his warm, sticky cum inside you. Hizashi pulled your head away from Shota and kissed you as he climaxed as well.
You pulled away from him, gasping deeply, and looked between them. "You two will be the death of me. Put me down, now."
They slowly withdrew from you, but Shota kept you in his arms. "Now, we can go back to sleep. I am even more tired than I was before," he muttered and laid down, placing you next to himself.
"Oh, come on, Sho! It's our day off! Staying home isn't my style! We could go out and enjoy each other's company!" Blond complained, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Or we could just rest and cuddle so the two of you can, for once, properly recover from working too much," you said, tilting your head.
Hizashi looked a little annoyed that you didn't agree with him but soon nodded, joining you two and laying on your other side. "Guess the songbird is right."
Smiling, you hugged them both. The three of you soon slipped into a nice, long, and much-needed nap.
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