#*head in hands* I AM GOING TO BE THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR THE REST OF THE NIGHT NOW THANKS

[archangeldyke-all]

Consider the following cuz I think it's funny:

Sevika with a gf who's just... Kinda dumb? Just kinda ditzy and airheaded and it's kind of a miracle that she's still in one piece. Just a bit of a bimbo but goddamn does she love Sevika with everything she has.

-🌙

okay as a blonde who definitely has my fair share of Blonde Moments i love this l;askdjflskj

men and minors dni

sevika loves you so much.

so much.

she would kill for you. she would die for you. she would even wear matching pajamas with you-- that's how much she adores you.

that being said... sevika has to admit that sometimes you can be a little... clueless...

you aren't stupid! you're constantly reading and learning, watching documentaries and sharing interesting scientific facts with sevika. you're a whiz in the kitchen, always making delicious meals and treats, and you're incredible with couponing and keeping your grocery bill within budget. in sevika's eyes, you're one of the smartest people she knows...

but... sometimes...

sometimes, you can be a bit of a ditz.

you're horrible with directions. sevika's watched in horror many times while you hook a right, completely confident that you're headed left.

"babe, the bar's this way."

"you said left!"

"use your hands, babe..."

"...oh." you mumble, scratching the back of your neck in embarrassment as you turn around and start headed the correct way. sevika cackles and wraps an arm around you.

"where would you be without me?"

"wandering by the docks, probably."

"the docks are south of here, babe."

"yeah, south." you say, pointing east. sevika groans.

she gifted you a compass keychain for your birthday that year.

you struggle with spelling.

you love to leave sevika little love notes-- and she adores them! but sometimes, your notes have the unintended consequence of making sevika cackle while she tries to interpret your unique spelling. 'sevika, i've never been able to be so intimidate with somebody before...'

she teases you for the rest of the night about how intimidating you are together.

sometimes, sevika really wonders how you made it through life without her there.

like when you're behind the bar at the last drop making change for a twenty, and you hand the customer six fives.

"baby, that's thirty!" sevika squawks, smacking your hand before you can hand the man the money."

"what? no, babe, six times five." you say, scoffing and rolling your eyes.

"six times five is thirty, baby." sevika says slowly.

you groan and bury your face in your hands, embarrassed. sevika giggles and wraps you up in a hug, handing the man four bills and kissing your scalp.

"i'm an idiot." you groan.

"sometimes, yeah." sevika agrees. you gasp and elbow her, glaring at her. sevika giggles. "but the rest of the time you're smart! and i'm usually here to help before you can get yourself into any dumb trouble..."

"whatever. you're dumb too!" you say, pointing at sevika. she laughs.

"i am not!"

"you thought i hated you for months before we started going out." you say. sevika cackles.

"i didn't get why you kept looking at me!"

"'cause you're hot!"

sevika grins. "okay, i'm a little dumb emotionally. good thing i got you to balance me out, huh?" she asks.

you grin and kiss her. "you bet your ass."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel

[wolvietxt]

can you do overprotective with dean winchester?

from this prompt list 🩷: https://www.tumblr.com/wolvietxt/764960124626403328/overprotective-sunshine-is-about-to-do-something?source=share

DEAN’S voice cut through the air, sharp and unyielding, stopping you mid-step on the wooden ledge. 

“what the hell do you think you’re doing?”  

you froze, looking over your shoulder to see him stalking toward you, his expression hard enough to rival stone. his green eyes burned with something between frustration and fear, and it pinned you in place like a physical force.  

“we don’t have time to waste,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm. “i’ll go first and make sure it’s stable.”  

dean’s jaw clenched, and his boots ground into the gravel as he closed the distance between you. “no. you’re not stepping foot on that thing.”  

“dean - ”  

“don’t dean me,” he snapped, cutting you off. “you’re not doing it.”  

“someone has to,” you argued, gesturing toward the rickety bridge swaying precariously over the canyon. “we can’t just stand here debating.”  

“then i’ll do it,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “no way in hell am i letting you go out there first.”  

“why does it always have to be you?” you shot back, your irritation bubbling to the surface. “i’m not some damsel you have to protect, dean. i can handle myself.”  

“it’s not about that,” he said, his voice dropping low, rough with an emotion he rarely let slip. “it’s about me not being able to handle it if something happened to you. so stop being stubborn and let me do this.”  

his words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. he didn’t look away, didn’t try to soften the intensity of his gaze. it was like he needed you to understand, to take him seriously.  

you sighed, stepping back slightly. “fine. but if you fall, i’m not carrying your ass back up.”  

the corner of his mouth twitched, almost like he wanted to smile but couldn’t quite manage it. “yeah, yeah,” he muttered, turning toward the bridge.  

he tested the first plank with his boot, his movements deliberate and cautious. the wood groaned under his weight, but it held, and he took another step. you watched, your hands clenched into fists at your sides as he made his way across.  

“dean,” you called, unable to keep the worry out of your voice.  

he glanced back over his shoulder, his expression softening for just a second. “i’m fine. just hang tight.”  

it felt like an eternity before he reached the other side and turned to face you.  

“all right,” he called. “your turn. take it slow.”  

you stepped onto the bridge, your heart hammering in your chest as the wood creaked beneath your feet. you kept your eyes on dean, his steady gaze a lifeline as you moved forward.  

when you finally reached him, his hand shot out, grabbing yours to help you over the last step.  

“see? no big deal,” you said, though your legs felt like jelly.  

“reckless,” he muttered, but his voice lacked its usual bite.  

“overprotective,” you shot back, your lips twitching into a smile.  

“damn right,” he said, his eyes scanning your face like he was memorizing every detail.  

you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, dean leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. it was soft at first, tentative, like he wasn’t sure if you’d pull away. but when you didn’t, he deepened the kiss, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb brushed against your skin.  

when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he let out a shaky breath. “you drive me crazy, you know that?”  

you grinned, your fingers curling into the front of his jacket. “yeah, but you love it.”  

he shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “don’t push your luck, sunshine.”  

you giggled, the sound light and unburdened as the tension between you melted away. for once, you let yourself lean into the safety of his presence, knowing he’d always be there to catch you.

ᰔ dean winchester : @person-005, @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing, @jackles010378

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[insomniadreamzz]

Imma go combine two requests in that one.

Request 1: i was thinking if you could write something like jinx using her shimmer speed for fucking?

Request 2: If you still take requests, and when you get a chance, could you do a G!P Jinx x fem reader? The scenario I was picturing was that they are cuddling with the reader in Jinx's lap, and the reader is sort of grinding against her as they try and reposition themselves. And they're unaware of what it's doing to Jinx and eventually Jinx has enough and and fucks the reader right then and there.

———

My good girl

Mentions of G!P, smut, rough sex, overstimulation, blowjob, bratty Reader, dom!Jinx

You finally got Jinx away from her work bench, cuddling for a while now, you straddling her lap while your head rested in the crook of her neck. You loved cuddling with her, inhaling her beautiful scent. In moments like this even Jinx was calm, not being her usual bubbly self. The only thing that you could hear was her calm breathing and feeling her hand caress up and down your back. Jinx showing affection like this is a rare thing so you enjoyed every second.

„I love you.“ You whispered, your breath tickling her a little, she pressed a kiss on your forehead. „I love you too.“ You loved hearing her say that, slightly shifting on her lap to reposition yourself a little, feeling how Jinx‘s body tensed up but she didn’t say anything yet. You did move again, your crotch grinding against hers and you leaned up to have a better view of her now, you could see her cheeks being flushed red and her expression showing a little bit of weakness. You didn’t think about anything not innocent so you didn’t really understand why she looked at you like this.

„What? You okay?“ You giggle innocently, placing a soft kiss on her lips, as you do so you shifted again. „Ngh…fine that’s enough.“ Jinx groaned as she flipped you over, now being on top of you as she pushed you into the mattress. „Don’t you think I noticed this?“ She grumbled as her hands pinned yours down, she was being serious but you still didn’t get it. „Noticed what? We were cuddling.“ You mentioned and she let out a little sigh before pressing her clothed crotch against yours, making you feel her bulge.

Your cheeks instantly heat up, surprised by her getting excited so fast. „I-…I didn’t think you would get that hard because of a little shifting.“ Your words made her grunt, rolling her eyes annoyed. „Yea sure. You grind against me and think I won’t get hard? Nice try love, I am gonna give you what you deserve for lying to me. You know I hate being lied on.“

Even though you didn’t lie at all to her and just wanted a innocent moment with her without thinking about your own movements and what they would cause, you felt excited to see what she will do to you so you just played along with her. Telling her you didn’t do it on purpose won’t work on Jinx anyways if she is stuck in her own mindset. That’s what you learned about her very fast.

„Mhh…so you wanna put your little brat in her place?“ You just went along with the little game, not knowing what it would cause. „So? You’re so confident aren’t you? Let me fuck that confidence out of you then.“ She said with a husky voice, sitting up to remove her pants to let her hard cock free. Before you could react she grabbed you by your hair, making you sit up and shoved her cock inside of your mouth. „That’s it…use that bratty mouth on me.“ Jinx groaned as she moved her hips, letting her cock slide down your throat, making you gag a little bit on it. You tried your best to please her, letting her go all in and as fast as she wanted, your tongue swirling around her cock, hands placed on her hips to keep you up.

When she had the feeling she shut you up enough, only hearing your muffled moans and looking into your teary eyes, she decided to pull on your hair as she made you lean back a little, her cock and your mouth being connected by a string of your saliva as you looked at her beautiful pink eyes glowing of excitement. „That’s my good girl…I am not planning on giving you the pleasure to swallow it this time. I‘d rather want to make a mess out if you. Brats do deserve that.“ Her smirk was very evil, you knew that look on her face. She really meant what she said.

Jinx removed your pants and panties as well along with your shirt, wanting to have you fully exposed to her, smirking playfully as she gazed down at you, spreading your legs to see you being dripping wet for her. Your own hands move to your breasts, wanting to touch yourself but Jinx didn’t like that idea, giving you a little slap on your wet pussy which made you whine out loudly, whimpering after. „No touching. I am gonna touch you, your hands better stay away if you don’t want me to slap you again.“ She commanded you before adjusting herself properly between your legs, moving her cock inside of you deeply without a warning, making you moan out. „Ah! Fuck Jinx!“

Jinx only smirked playfully at your reaction. „Didn’t I tell you I will fuck the brat out of you?“ She didn’t wait for you to get used to her size as she started thrusting her hips inside of you, both of you ending up being a moaning mess, your tummy making a little bulge each time she thrusted into you made her know she was just hitting the right spot. Her eyes started glowing a lot again, a sign that showed whenever she used her shimmer which made her thrust into you in a inhuman speed, making you moan uncontrollably as your legs clenched around her, reaching your orgasm as your juices spilled all over her cock.

Jinx didn’t think of stopping yet, throwing her head back as she moaned out loudly, little strings of pink light following her eyds as she moved her head back. „J-Jinx! Stop!…I-I can’t-…ahh!“ You try to beg her to stop feeling overstimulated, not even able to form proper words, your whimpering moans cutting of your words. Jinx loved everything about this, looking down at you with such a needy gaze, you were wondering how she could keep herself from cumming.

„Naw…I am sure you can baby. You are my good girl. You can take it.“ She encouraged you, still pounding into you hard and fast, filling up the room with lewd wet sounds. Your juices helping her to slide in even more easier. „Hnng! You are so good for me, taking my punishment so good huh? Yes that’s it, good girl, my good girl.“ She groaned in between her moaning, biting her lower lip, a sign she was close and so were you, cumming again with a whine, your legs trembling underneath her, arching your back, tears of pleasure running down your eyes and finally Jinx reached her high as well, pulling out to cum on your lower tummy, making a mess out of you. „God…so sexy for me…“ She mumbled under her breath, jerking herself off on you before she leaned down, running her tongue along your wet folds, tasting your juices mixed together, feeling you twitch when her tongue reached your clit.

Jinx was satisfied for now, seeing you all done as you are still not ready to form words, being out of breath. „Next time don’t be so bratty and I will cum inside you instead~“ She said with her usual playful voice like she didn’t just dominate you and fucked you breathless.

She positioned herself back beside you, pulling you close to her chest as she began to be her soft, loving self again towards you, whispering so softly to you. „You’re mine, remember that.“ You just nod, feeling your body already feeling sore and she knew that, keeping you close to her until you both eventually fall asleep in each others arms.

[planetpedri]

Moments 𖦹 Alexia Putellas !

summary. on your second christmas together, alexia can’t help but feel an overwhelming amount of love for you.

word count. 510+

disclaimers. fluff , wlw !!

bea speaks. merry xmas to those who celebrate!! if not, well just happy day! it’s actually xmas eve for me rn but i needed to post..

The snow was light in Barcelona, which you were grateful that there was even any—but the air had a wintery bite. Inside the warmth of your shared home, christmas lights sparkled throughout the room, casting soft glows of many colors over your faces and the walls. You sat beside Alexia, wrapping a few extra presents in a sea of colorful papers and ribbons.

Alexia had been quiet the whole night, her usual playful quips absent. You’d figured she was just tired and it’s not like you didn’t enjoy being in the silence with her, until it reached thirty minuted before midnight, and you could see her eyebrows pulling together the more she thought.

Finally putting the scissors aside, you nudge her knee. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

She glances up at you, her expression tender but distant. “I was just thinking about how lucky I am,” she answers softly.

Smiling at her, although her tone gave you slight pause, you tilt your head to the side questioningly. “Lucky how?”

“For you.” She murmured, her eyes flickering over your face.

“For this. For us.” She picked up a small ornament on the tub beside her, one that had your names written in sloppy glittered letters. It was pink, you’d picked it out last Christmas—a small memento to your first holiday spent together.

“I’d never thought i’d have peace like this in my life. I’d always been so focused on football—too focused. You know? Like I was afraid I’d get too in deep if I let someone in.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, but you nodded anyways. “And now?” You ask gently.

“Now I can’t imagine my life without you.” She admitted, her voice raw as she gave you a half-lipped smile. “I’m always afraid of losing this—you.”

Moving closer, your heart aching at her words, you take the ornament from her hands and set it aside. “Cariño, you’re not going to lose me,” You say as firmly as possible, cupping her face lightly. “I’m going to be around for every moment, every Christmas, and everything in between. I am not going anywhere.”

The blondes lips quirked into an actual smile then, her eyes glassy as she looked at you. “You have a way with words.”

“I do.” You grin, brushing a thumb over her cheek, “I’m here because I love you, every moment with you.. I cherish, even the quiet nights like tonight.”

Alexia leaned forward, resting her forehead against yours. “Seriously, how do you always know what to say?”

“Because I’m just as lucky as you are?” You quip, Pulling away to smirk at her.

With a small chuckle, Alexia wrapped her fingers around your wrists, tugging you closer to place her lips on yours.

The warmth of her lips spread across you, spreading through your chest like the lights from the tree. Pulling away ever so slightly, you whisper against her lips, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, mi amor.” She murmured right back, now only feeling warm and full of love for you.

likes, comments, and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future alexia posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @lechrts @joaoflms @sakashq @h4vertzz @spidybaby

[rainsiide]

BUT I’M A CHEERLEADER .ᐟ.ᐟ

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི now playing Diet Mountain Dew - Lana Del Rey 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

“you’re no good for me, but baby I want you.”

sophia laforteza x reader ⋮ you’re a cheerleader, you don’t like girls. especially not that oddity of a football player sophia.

warning you! ⋆ slight internalized homophobia, i went to most my football games and i still have no clue abt it

“i want this to be sharper girls!” your coach yelled, for about the tenth time. the homecoming prep rally was coming up soon and your coach would not take good for a end result. she wanted perfect. she was going over routines for touchdowns, fumbles, & a down. and also the half time performance

soon after you found yourself in the bleachers, in the middle cheering for the girls. cheers erupted from your mouth and stomps shook the bleachers. you were apart of the tumblers who did tricks on the track that surrounded the football field. perfecting your skills everyday from practice, you flawlessly hits stunts, jumps and flips. you had been facing away from the field when you felt a rush of a air, a yell, a scream, and then you felt the track ground. someone had fell into you.

“holy shit! i am so sorry, i didn’t think i was running that far to catch it!” a girls voice said. you touched your head, the headache hitting hard and pain in your foot made you struggle. she took off her helmet, a sweaty face and dark hair cascading down her neck. she kneeled down grabbing your hand and pulling you up gently.

“i- are you okay?” she had asked as she helped you stand up, one of your feet slightly hovering above the track. you looked up at her clueless. no words came up, and why not? because her face was so distracting. no— no it wasn’t, you just got caught off guard, that was all.

“do you have a concussion, can you hear me?” she look concerned that you were just staring at her.

“sorry— um my foot, i don’t think i can walk on it.” you responded to her. the nurse then came over to you and helped you up onto a bed on the side. for some reason sophia trailed right behind her. she looked like a kicked puppy. she probably felt like one too.

“i am so so so sorry! i know your performing in the halftime and i feel really bad!” she started to ramble on to you. “look its okay um—” “sophia.” “sophia, it’s fine, you didn’t mean it, we shouldn’t had been turned around aways..” you said. it was kinda stupid to be looking at the crowd instead of the players.

“you’re gonna need to stay off this foot for awhile, there’s no signs of a concussion so you should be fine in time for the halftime performance.” the nurse said as she placed a ice pack on your foot and told you to rest there for awhile. you watched the game from the sidelines, or rather sophia from the sidelines. it was only because she was only player you could recognize, no other reason.

the next day at school you found yourself with a cast on your foot and you walked weakly around the hallways. then you unlocked your locker to place some books you didn’t need for next period. then closing your locker you found a tall dark hair football player on the other side of the door. practically scaring you and you always fell again.

“woah, didn’t mean to make you drop.” she said with a laugh. “well you almost did, funny job sophia.” you said rolling your eyes. “sorry. look i just came over here to give you this. i asked your friend. the one with the blonde curly hair? she said you liked these.” she referred to your friend daniela, passing you candy bar that you loved since the dawn of times.

“it’s an apology candy. you know, for what happened last night.” she said sheepishly. she smiled at her and thanked her for it “you really didn’t have to, but i appreciate sophia.” she smiled and left to her class.

about a hour later you went to the lunchroom. sitting with your friends daniela & harvey. they had their lunches, eating and chatting. they greeted you and you joined in on the talking. you disengaged from the conversation for a minute to take out the candy bar that was in your pocket. mindlessly eating it.

“no way you went to the store without us?” harvey said, often times you guys went off campus to get snacks during lunchtime. but today wasn’t a day you planned to. “no, it’s uh— from that football player, as a apology.” you said.

“hm, that’s why she asked me about your favorite candy.” daniela said, biting down on the sub sandwich. “huh, cute.” harvey said. you paid harvey no mind as you finished it. the lunch period was over and they threw their lunch away. all of three of you started to walk to class. one by one dropping each other off. harvey dropped you off and left to her own class.

two weeks past and you were now fully healed in time for the homecoming game. you and sophia and grown closer but you paid it no mind. that she was just being friendly. after school you and daniela were at practice. practicing stunts on the sidelines and routine. the coach gave the girls a break and daniela and you sat down as you watched the football player(s) practice. tonight was a big rivalry and they just had to beat them. you could recognize a certain football player anywhere. many times cheer practice overlapped with football practice. so you’d see sophia more often then you thought.

then the players came off the field for a break and she slid herself right next to you. her head resting on your shoulder. mindlessly you played with her hair. it had been something you got used to, every time you saw her at practice during breaks you would hang out together and talk together.

later on you were in the changing room, putting on your uniform for the halftime show. and so was sophia. you were sitting lacing up your shoes, not really paying attention to whoever was next to you. until you felt somebody slide over and wrap a arm around your shoulders. “hey y/n” sophia smiled. you giggled and said hey back. then turning your head, not realizing how close her face was. so close you could feel her breath. so close you could see how perfect her eyelashes were, and how perfect those lips were. so perfect you could just kiss them. and you did.

her lips against yours felt so familiar for something new but then. you woke up. your eyes opened and you realized what you were doing. you pulled away from her at what went through your mind, you touched your lips, looked at her and moved back.

“i don’t— um- im supposed to be on the sidelines. i have to go.” and at that you got up without looking behind you. speed walking out room and running to the field. your mind was spiraling. why’d you kiss sophia? you don’t like her, you don’t like girls. your a cheerleader. you thought. you didn’t say anything and as the game started minutes later. that football player caught your eye again, and you didnt know if these were good reasons or bad reasons.

you watched them play back and forth, fumbles, flags, touchdowns and all. then it was time for the halftime show. first the band with the dancers took over the field. baritones, trumpets, drums played loud as ever. you watched intently as they played. your mind running through your own performance. cheers erupted from the bleachers. as well as the players on the sideline. then it was time for the cheerleaders.

your heart was not in its normal place, it was ten times deeper. and you could feel it every time you moved. locking into your starting position, you counted over and over in your head as danced to the music. you hoped that you wouldn’t mess up any stunts. hoping you wouldn’t drop any flips. while you were in position for a move you caught the eye of sophia. you didn’t know if it was a face of “i’m proud of you” or if it’s “please talk to me again” and if you knew any better it was probably the second thought. after the performance was over yo posed for the ending. and then moved. cheers also erupted for you.

after that the players were back on the field and hustling. this was a rival team they could let put them out in their field. seconds on the clock, sophia ran down the field, ball in a hand, going to the end, getting a touchdown last second. the bleachers were loud, they gladly put the rival team to shame. then. they held the players up cheering and clapping for everybody.

you were sat on the bleachers waiting for you and daniela’s ride. her mom always picked you both up. you had been on the sidelines packing up some things you’d left over there.

“hey.”

you felt your heart stop. sophia. you got up and turned around to face her.

“i’m sorry about the kiss i—“ she said, everything moved in slow motion. and without thinking you pulled her into a hug. your arms tightly around her neck. you had came to the conclusion that if there was anybody to kiss it was to be her. you liked girls, you liked sophia, even if you were a cheerleader.

you moved from her embrace and held her face in your palms.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t think i liked her girls. i didn’t think i liked you, im a cheerleader, you know? ‘m supposed to be the the top football player jock. but i think i want you. i like this football player more than any one.” you said, pointing to her.

she smiled to you, her hands on your waist. “so can i kiss you?” she smiled as she questioned you. you nodded as she pressed a chaste kiss on your lips.

“i like you sophia.”

“i like you too, cheerleader.”

[revelboo]

Oh damn!! Mind if I just explode into particles about the latest Circuits and Wires??

BOOM!! 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💕💕💕💕💕

I love it so much

Wheeljack’s always been a favorite, just that optimism that’s undiminished no matter how many times his projects literally blow up in his face.

Also: Let’s see how many of these I can update in a day

Circuits and Wires Pt 10

Wheeljack x Reader

• Shifting to sit curled up in his lap, you’re aware of him shifting his arm as if wanting to touch and not sure where is okay. Biting into the inside of your cheek as he struggles, you reach back and pull his arm around you, pressing his big hand against your hip and feeling him shiver under you. Because one of you is going to have to be assertive and you’re almost positive it’s not going to be him. Reaching for his other hand, you pull it to you and play with his servos, fingertips tracing over the softer metal mesh at the inside of his wrist as you lay your head against him.

• You’re so soft and warm against him, he wants to tip your head up. Explore your soft mouth and let his hands wander. Would you let him? Optics dim, he doesn’t dare try to find out. Too afraid of being rejected or ruining this. Glossa sliding against his bottom lip remembering the feel of your mouth on his, he flexes his servos when you run your fingertips against the inside of them. And you look up at him, head against his shoulder. Slowly, he presses his palm to yours, intertwining his servos with your fingers, the difference in how much smaller your little hands is, shocking. Even mass displaced, you’re so delicate compared to him. And a part of him thrills at that difference.

• Breath catching as you stare at your hand trapped in his much bigger one and feel the servos of the hand on your hip flex against you. Making you wonder what those big hands would feel like on you. “I keep thinking I’m going to break you,” he says, vocal indicators flickering mauve. Embarrassed? About breaking you? Why would he even-oh. Heat spilling through you, his awkwardness twists, takes on a new meaning. Not even sure how that would work between you two. Though, those big fingers could be put to use. And now the thought is there as your face heats.

• Head ducking against him as he catches a glimpse of how red your face just got, he frowns. “I promise you won’t break me,” you mutter, avoiding looking at him as your fingers squeeze his. Venting, he absently rubs against your hip and rests his chin on top of your head. Loving the feel of you against him and not quite believing that he’s allowed this much.

• “I hope not. I like having you around,” he says as you cringe. Because nope. It’s going right over his handsome, dense head unless you spell it out for him. Maybe he’d hadn’t meant it that way after all. And asking about it? Bluntly telling him that you’re interested in him that way? You’d rather curl up and die of embarrassment right now. So you’re right back to square one, you too shy and him too damn oblivious.

Previous

I am all motors and gadgets

Organically designed to last a finite length of time

Locked in this rotary motion, the wheel spins round and round

I comprehend it all but still can't make a sound

I know there's something wrong within my faulty brain

I lack the proper behavior

My temper-addled tongue can't seem to force it out

The words that linger inside me

Can't speak, can't speak, can't speak at all

Don't even think you know the reason

Can't speak, can't speak, can't speak at all

Don't even try to understand

I am all circuits and wires

Conducting symphonies of heat exchange energies

My temper-addled tongue can't seem to force it out

The words that linger inside me

[inmyheaddd]

coffee sweetener — grayson hawthorne x reader

a/n: the way i have like 6 other fics i'm working on, this was so cute though I had to write it asap!! thank u sm for the req! wc: 1.8k summary: one of your regulars at your café, grayson— who happens to be insanely handsome, comes in today like usual. but strangely enough, things go a tad further than the surface level small talk you usually have.

a familiar suit clad blonde walked in the near empty cafe you worked in. there was a soft hum of some chatter, but not much, as the early morning sun filtered through the large windows.

some people glanced up from their tables for a second, and some people glanced up at him for a lot more than a small second. could you blame them? no, not really. 

his eyes immediately found yours as he walked up to the cash register which you stood behind, and you found yourself averting your gaze involuntarily. 7:14 AM the time read. there was only one thing that made the early morning shift worth it, and it seemed to be standing right infront of you now. 

today his suit was gray, you noticed. it made his eyes stand out so much more, you nearly stumbled over your words. “you again,” you said, narrowing your eyes jokingly and biting back a smile.

he smiled the tiniest smile, shrugging as if to say ‘what can i say’ before pretending to look up at the menu to order.

“what would you recommend today?” he spoke smoothly, a stark contrast to some of the other people that would come in and simply shout at you.

“why does that matter?” you teased, tilting your head to the side before you looked down at the cash register for a moment and realised you’d already started putting in his usual order. “you get the same thing every time.” 

“'there seem to be no specials, but I'm in the mood for a change.'' he said, his grey eyes doing a once over on you. god, how you wish you weren’t wearing that horrible work apron right now. ''I can be a man full of surprises.”

you let out a small chuckle, “i find that hard to believe.”

everything about him screamed precise and orderly. that was partly what intrigued you so much when you first met him. the fact that he was incredibly gorgeous wasn’t so bad either. 

you expected him to get a black coffee, maybe a croissant if he was feeling extra adventurous that day, but no a large americano and a muffin. he would also get a blueberry scone or two some days, but always get it to go, and never eat it himself.

you almost wondered if he was ordering for someone else, maybe a girlfriend. but again, no. he sat alone with just his work laptop, having his americano and muffin. 

“is that so?” he countered, a slight raise of one of his brows and an amused smile playing on his lips. 

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t smiling yourself. “very much so.” 

you were thankful there weren’t any customers in line behind him that would yell at you for taking too long. but even if there was a rude customer, you doubted they yell.

grayson had one of those sort of intimidating presences that made you think he was born to be a ceo or something. now that he’d been a regular for a couple months, that intimidation mostly wore off on you. you just thought he was a pretty cute guy with an obsession for suits. 

“i suppose i’ll have to prove you wrong then,” he said that in a way that made you think he proves people wrong very often. he adjusted one of his suits lapels, inadvertently drawing your eyes to his arms. “so i ask again, what do you recommend?” 

tearing your eyes away from his arms and back to his face, you asked, “you’re really going with this? okay, fine.” you raised your eyebrows like he had challenged you, but you still couldn’t wipe that stupid smile off your face. 

you rested your hands on the counter, “uhm,” you thought, humming slightly, “well, i usually get a refresher— like the strawberry or dragon fruit ones, or i get a hot chocolate.” you said, then a thought sparked in your mind. “oh! and a chocolate chip cookie. and a cake pop.” 

you bit back a grin— you did not get cake pops or chocolate chip cookies regularly, but the image of grayson with a cake pop or cookie made you want to laugh for some reason. 

“alright then,” he said, ''may i get a medium strawberry refresher, and a,'' he paused, saying the words like they almost pained him, ''two... two chocolate chip cookies, please.''

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

grayson left with his drink and cookie, sitting down at a table a bit further in the back, but he was still conveniently in your eyeline. he opened his briefcase, which you hadn't even realised he was holding. it seemed so natural for him to hold, you hadn't looked twice. you caught yourself looking at him frequently, and sometimes he would glance up from his laptop and lock eyes with you for a moment.

he came up to the counter a few minutes later, his drink finished and thrown away, and a cookie and a half left, adjusting his suit jacket with one hand, briefcase in the other. you fake sighed in annoyance as if his very presence was pestering you-- quite the contrary, really.

he only smiled in response.

''well?'' you said, wiping imaginary dust off of your apron, ''how was it? you sticking to the muffins?''

''I have to say, the refresher wasn't horrible. it was quite nice, actually.'' he said, and you gave him a teasing look that was like, 'told you so!' before he continued. ''however, the cookies were far too sweet. i’m sorry, you seem to have terrible culinary taste.''

you fake scoffed, painting the picture of being truly offended. ''okay, can i tell you a secret?'' you leaned forward, and he entertained you by doing the same, motioning for you to continue. ''yes, you're right. these cookies are absolutely horrible, i agree. but i make much better ones.''

amusement flashed across his eyes, like he guessed you had picked out the not-so-good snacks for him on purpose. “really?” he prompted, a dimple flashing in one of his cheeks as he smiled.

“yes,” you swore seriously with a smile that contrasted that no-nonsense tone, “really.” 

“i’d like to be the judge of that.” he said, his voice low and teasing and- god, you could listen to it forever.

“trust me, i’m not lying. i’ll bring some to work tomorrow, just remind me to actually bake them. i have such bad memory.” 

“and how exactly would i be able to remind you?” he tilted his head to one side slightly, a teasing glint in his eye like he could see where you were getting at, and was entertaining it. 

your heart was beating crazy fast, but it was time to finally make a move on this guy. the cash register flirting was simply not enough anymore. you hoped he felt whatever chemistry you were feeling too-- and that you weren't misreading things. then again, you almost failed the subject, so it wouldn't be surprising if you were still getting it wrong.

“why don’t i give you my number," you started, feeling your hands get clammy, ''and you could text me after my shift?” 

his dimples flashed a second time, his eyes doing another once over on you. okay, surely you couldn't misread that one.

you felt your cheeks get hot as he spoke once again, his voice so smooth and low that it fit perfectly with the serenity of the morning and café. “i think i’d like that very much, and that i'll be looking forward to tomorrow.” 

biting back a smile and ignoring the way your stomach erupted with seemingly a million butterflies , you somehow managed to say, “alright, then. i think i'd like it too.''

you wrote down your number on his receipt, ignoring the way your hands trembled with excitement and nervousness, drawing a little smiley face next to it.

holy shit, you were never like this. your heart raced as you watched his eyes find the bottom of the receipt and give you a tiny smile. you watched him sit down an his work laptop, then pull out his phone, type something in, and put it back in his suit's pocket.

ugh, you would break every rule and look at your phone right now, except you were on your last strike for using your phone in the middle of shifts, and you did not want to get fired from this little coffee shop for the sole reason of seeing that one blonde man every morning and having your usual banter. 

''wait,'' you called out, ''what are you going to do with the rest of the cookies? you said, ''don't tell me you'll throw those absolute delicacies away.'' you added jokingly, and grayson simply shook his head, looking down with a slight laugh with a single blonde strand of hair falling into his face.

''I'm keeping them for my younger brother,'' he replied, a fondness in his voice, ''he's quite something, with his extreme love for baked goods.''

you hummed in thought, suddenly realising this was the first time you'd heard about him having brothers. this was really the first conversation about anything that didn't involve small talk and café related things, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to continue learning more about him. getting to know eachother.

''I think those atrocious cookies will change that love he has,'' you mumbled under your breath without thinking as you shook your head.

you heard grayson chuckle, ''what was that?'' he teased.

''god, i'm gonna get myself fired. forget i said anything.'' you groaned as you covered your face with your hands, already feeling your cheeks heat up again.

''that would prove very difficult,'' he replied smoothly as you put your hands back down. ''I find it near impossible to forget anything you say to me.''

if you thought your cheeks were heated a few seconds ago, they were blazing now. you averted your gaze for a quick second, but his gaze didn't leave yours.

chuckling slightly, you managed to speak without stumbling. "should i start worrying about all my bad jokes being permanently filed away?"

"bad jokes?" he quipped, "i've yet to hear one from you.'' he did not let up on his charm for a single moment, a laugh escaping your lips before he resumed. ''but if you insist, i’ll let you know when you make your first."

'''I'll see you tomorrow, then?''

you nodded, muttering a small 'bye' as you watched grayson step out of the café, the sound of the door chiming behind him.

the anticipation was unbearable, and despite knowing you were on thin ice with your manager, your hand inched toward your phone on the counter.

a quick glance over your shoulder confirmed no one was watching. you unlocked your phone, heart racing as you checked your notifications.

there it was—a new text, well, one from about 10 minutes ago.

Unknown Number:

Already counting down to tomorrow. 🙃 Don’t forget those cookies you talk of, I'm holding you to it.

you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you quickly saved the number, your hands trembling slightly. you almost let out a snort as his emoji choice before typing, glancing again to make sure the coast was clear.

you

i definitely won’t be forgetting now that you've texted I just may be looking forward to tomorrow too 🫣

you were thankful the place was practically empty, because surely you looked like a crazy person, smiling to yourself. you set the phone back down, trying to suppress the giddy warmth spreading through you. the day suddenly didn’t feel quite so long anymore.

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear @clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee @hijabi-desi-bookworm @goldi-1-graysons-version @saigonharrington @peppapigsposts @thoughtdaughter3 

[chibinasuu]

Law x Reader ― sick day; stargazing

part of the cozy holidays event

🎁 ― @splicer13vex tags: sfw, fluff, GN!Reader, no use of y/n, cw vomiting, some platonic heart pirates x reader, not part of the request but what the hell let’s throw in some accidental confession in here too as a xmas gift

“How are you feeling?”

Your Captain's voice was the first thing you heard when you regained consciousness.

You were shivering, your head was pounding, and your stomach churned unsettlingly. You had not felt this bad in ages. 

“Terrible,” you croaked out weakly.  

“Good.” Law said in a deadpan voice, “Serves you right for being stupid.”

You cringed, preparing yourself for the impending scolding from the Captain and Doctor of the Heart Pirates. 

He took a deep breath, “What were you thinking?” 

Here we go. 

“You should know better than to touch and smell some suspicious, unknown plant on an island we barely knew anything about.” 

“In my defense, the flower was very pretty.”

He groaned exasperatedly, “Many poisonous things are!”

“I’m sorry.” You sighed, “I now realize how stupid that was.” 

“Why did you do it anyway?”

“I wanted to show it to you.” You shrugged, “I just thought you’d find it interesting.”

His eyes softened, his frustration melting away at your earnest response. For the record, he did find the flower interesting. In fact, he even went back to retrieve some samples – using proper protective gear, of course – once he made sure you were alright. He wouldn't admit that to you, though, not wanting to justify your reckless actions.

You suddenly felt your stomach lurch, and Law immediately grabbed a bucket, just in time for you to retch your guts out. 

“Let it all out,” Law said, rubbing gentle circles on your back, “I managed to extract most of the poison with my powers, but some traces may still be in your bloodstream.” 

You grimaced at the feel of acid burning your throat. Law handed you a glass of water, which you gulped down greedily. 

“Here, take this.” He handed you a pill, “Should help with the nausea.”

“Thanks.”

You laid back down on the bed once you’d taken the medicine, pulling the blanket tight around your shivering body. The Polar Tang must have been underwater, judging by the chill inside the sub. You wondered how long you were out. 

“I need to discuss our next course with Bepo,” said Law as he touched the back of his hand to your forehead, nodding satisfactorily when he detected no fever.

“You’re on bed rest until tomorrow.” He pointed his index finger at you, “Stay. Put. No funny business, you hear me?”

You nodded.

“Say it out loud.”

You rolled your eyes, “Aye, aye, doctor. No funny business, I promise.”

“Good.” He patted your head once before walking toward the door that led to the hallway. He looked back at you just before he exited, “Try to get some sleep.”

Your mood instantly dropped at Law’s absence – suddenly all of your symptoms felt ten times worse without him there to distract you. 

You heeded Law’s words and tried to get some rest, but sleep eluded you. After around half an hour of you just tossing and turning in bed, the door suddenly swung open, and you brightened at the sight of a fluffy, white head popping in from behind it.

“Hi, sorry!” Bepo tiptoed quietly into the room, “Am I bothering you? Sorry, I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I’m feeling a bit better now that you’re here.” You chuckled, “And stop saying sorry, you’re not bothering me.”

“Sorry.” The mink automatically replied, before realizing what he said, “Ah, sorr–“

He chose to just shut his mouth after that.

“You came at the right time actually – I was just about to lose my mind from boredom.” You sighed, “I need some fresh air. I think that would help a bit with the nausea.”

Bepo dragged a chair and sat down next to your bed, “Oh, we’re just about to surface actually. We’re in the open ocean now, so–“

He gasped loudly and covered his mouth with his large paws, “I’m sorry! Please forget that!”

You grinned at the prospect of getting out of here and inhaling some much-needed ocean breeze.

“Oh, Captain’s gonna kill me!” The polar bear looked at you with his big, round, glistening eyes, “Sorry, I know you wanted to go out, but will you please just stay in the sick bay?”

You melted at his cuteness, patting his soft paw reassuringly, “Okay, I will. Don’t worry!”

He sighed in relief and got up, “Oh, great. I’m gonna help prepare the sub for resurfacing now. Please don’t go anywhere and get some rest!”

Once the Polar Tang successfully rose to sea level, Penguin came by with some soup, bringing over his own dinner to keep you company while you ate. 

He didn’t tell you, but you had a feeling he was also under strict orders from Law to make sure that you properly consumed every single drop of that soup.

The clear broth was hearty, warm, and delicious, but you still struggled to keep it down as the remnants of the poison wreaked havoc on your stomach.

Your promise to stay put in the sick bay lasted only about two hours after that. 

Once it was lights-out time, you crept through the dark hallway, heading towards the main door leading to the outside of the submarine. 

You cringed as the wheel creaked slightly when you turned it, but all worries of getting busted sneaking out were forgotten as soon as the first rush of fresh air entered your lungs. 

You spread the blankets you brought from the sick bay on the deck, before sitting on top of it and leaning your head back against the railing.

The stars were out tonight and you looked up at them appreciatively, savoring the unobstructed view of the heavens that only a seafarer could observe.

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t stay put.”

You whipped your head toward the sound of the familiar voice, smiling guiltily at the man leaning against the open door.

“Sorry.” You said, not really sounding apologetic at all, “It was getting stuffy inside.”

The reprimand you expected from him never came, and instead, Law just sat down next to you with a sigh. 

He was silent, eyes trained toward the stars. 

You could tell that something was bothering him, but you stayed quiet, patiently waiting until he was ready to speak.

“I thought I was gonna lose you today.”

The vulnerability in his voice shook you, and you felt your heart race in anticipation of what he would say next. 

“You went to smell that damn flower and suddenly you just… collapsed, and I didn’t know what to do.”

He took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair, “Fuck, I’m a doctor and I froze. My mind went blank, my hands wouldn’t move. You should thank Shachi for snapping me out of it, by the way. There’s a reason why on some islands, doctors are not allowed to treat the people they lov–“

Your heart skipped a beat when he abruptly stopped, realizing that he was letting out more than he meant to. 

“What were you about to say?”

His lips stayed pressed together, and he brought one of his hands up to cover the redness spreading across his cheeks. 

“Law,” You took his hand away from his handsome face and tightly gripped it, “Please.”

“I… care about you, alright?” He finally admitted, face flushed and eyes firmly on the sky.

It wasn’t what he was initially about to unintentionally confess, but it was more than you ever hoped to hear from him.

“I know I’m your Captain, and you’re my subordinate. It was never my intention to… fall for you, but I did, and there’s nothing I can do about it now. I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. Please feel free to just forget about it.”

You grabbed his face in between your hands, turning his head and letting him see your bright smile.

His eyes widened slightly as you pulled him in and pressed your lips tenderly against his. 

His surprise only lasted a second, and then he was kissing you back, and it was so much better than the million times this scene had played out in your daydreams.

The stars were the only witnesses as he held you impossibly close, melding your lips together in a slow, delicate dance. 

You sighed softly against his lips, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long, you have no idea.”

Law gave you one of his rare, genuine smiles, and your heart soared. Oh, the things you would give to see his smile every day.

He firmly gripped the back of your neck and brought you in for another kiss. 

Of course, your stomach chose that exact time to ruin the moment. 

You quickly stood up and leaned over the railing, purging the soup you ate back out from the way it went down. 

Law chuckled teasingly, “Should I be offended? Do I repulse you that much?”

“Shut up!” You whined, “You know it’s not like that!”

He rubbed your back soothingly as you finished emptying your stomach into the ocean below. His hand was pleasantly warm even through the fabric of your shirt. 

“C’mon,” he placed a gentle kiss on your temple, “Let’s get you back inside.” 

“Can we stay outside for a few more minutes?”

You looked at him with a pleading gaze until he relented and said, “Fine, five more minutes. But you need to layer up.”

He took off his jacket and put it on you, before taking one of the blankets and draping it on top of that.

You dragged him down to lay flat on the deck, and his arm immediately went underneath your head, pillowing it from the cold, hard surface. 

You two ended up staying out there for way more than five minutes.

You pointed out some of the familiar constellations that Bepo had taught you as you took comfort in the warmth of his body against yours. It wasn’t long until you felt your eyelids flickering close.

Law only smiled softly when he noticed your breathing slowed into a steady rhythm.

He gathered you in his arms – one arm under your legs and the other supporting your back – and carried you back into the submarine.

He could’ve just used his powers to “shambles” you both inside in a snap, but he found himself unable to resist holding you in his arms for even one second longer.

Not that he would ever admit that to anyone.

a/n: happy holidays everyone!! and a very merry christmas to those who celebrate! 🎄 i hope this fic can be an acceptable christmas gift from me to all of you 🎁😘 this is my first time writing for law, and i hope i did him justice! i really wanted to get him right because he's such a dear character to me 🥺 also!! i'm opening up a taglist, so please fill out this form if you wanted to be tagged on my future uploads! thanks!

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ main event page || event masterlist ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

[spotsandsocks]

What's My Flavour ? 8K

Buck settles down in LA and opens a juice bar across the street from a well established coffee shop called Diaz Brews. The owner is not particularly impressed by either his new neighbor or juice in general.

Juice puns, grumpy Eddie and the inevitable happen.

Buck watches his sister spin in a circle, her brown eyes wide as she takes in the four walls of the shop he’s just bought.

Turning back to face him the smile on her face ignites one on his own and Buck recognises the warm feeling in his chest as love and pride. Maddie closes the distance between them until she’s snug in his arms, her own arms wrapped tightly around his waist and squeezing. Resting his chin on her head he lets his gaze drift. It’s taken a while to find the right place for them but  he has a good feeling about this. It’s the right choice for him, for them. 

“I’m really excited about this, Maddie.” He feels her chuckle against his chest then she leans away to look up at him. 

“Me too Evan. It’s going to be perfect.”

Buck detangles himself from his sister and bounces off to one side of the room. 

“I thought counter here.” His arms gesture wildly then he spins pointing at the wall, “menus up there.” He circles her beaming, “tables and seats this way. Some fridges for the ready made juices once we know what’s gonna be most popular and here.” He stops by a different wall and circles his hands over the floor.

“I thought we could have a kids area, do it up for drawings and maybe do story time sometimes so the parents can relax and stuff.

He blushes at Maddie’s soft smile, “What? You know I love kids.”

She crosses to him and hugs him again. “I know you do and you're just a big kid yourself.” 

She laughs at his put upon sigh, “Come on Mads I’m a responsible business owner now.”

She laughs again and it’s so good to see her happy. He really thinks it’s the best decision they’ve made in the last three years of traveling to come to LA and open a juice bar together. He knows Maddie wants to settle down and he wants whatever makes her happy. He really thinks this could be it. 

A week later the renovations are well under way the juice bar that’s going to be his future taking shape. It’s exciting the only thing he still needs to decide on is a name, he’s been throwing ideas out at Maddie working on his juice puns with variable success.

Right now they’re taking a break, grabbing a coffee from a shop opposite them, he’s brought a list of ideas that he’s been working on because Maddie had discarded his most recent idea ‘Juice do it’ yesterday.

They sit at the table and he flips open his pad. “Sooooo.” 

His sister groans, “Buck, I’m not sure I’m strong enough for more juice puns today. Maybe you should try and think of something different. Maybe just Buckley Juices.”

“Seriously Mads that’s so boring who names their business after themselves, someone with no imagination that’s who. Dull people Maddie. Dull boring people do that and I am not dull!” 

At just that moment their coffees are delivered to their table and his is placed down rather firmly, liquid sloshing up the sides  but not actually spilling over. 

Buck looks up to say thank you to their server despite the clumsy delivery  and finds himself staring into a pair of brown eyes. The guy would be handsome if he wasn’t frowning down at him. Buck's smile drops away. Not particularly friendly service here, he probably won’t come back in a hurry. Coffee’s bad for you anyway, he’s been planning on cutting down. The server turns and leaves without a word. He pushes the handsome stranger from his mind and refocuses.

“How about “The Main Squeeze? Squeeze The Day?” 

He looks at his notes.  “or Perfect- Juice the way you are.” 

keep reading

[froggiewrites]

Sickly Sweet

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

SFW

Summary: You've got a horrible cold, and Sanji is determined to take care of you. He may be going a bit overboard. Warnings: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Illness Word Count: 1.1k Notes: I'm sick as a dog right now, so I wrote a little something to comfort myself. Not proofread or edited, just words on the page. Hope everyone's having a good Christmas Eve (or Christmas, if it's already day of for you), and I hope none of you are sick like I am!

The doting had been so nice at the start. Your head was pounding, you could barely breathe through your nose, and your throat was so sore you felt like you had swallowed glass. So when your dear sweet Sanji had insisted on taking care of you, you had absolutely no problem with it.

Until now.

“Darling, angel, light of my life, please, just one more sip.” He was holding the cup of soup directly in front of your face, begging you to open your mouth. This was sweet the first time, but now you were halfway through your fourth cup of broth and you felt like you were going to explode.

You manage to mumble through pursed lips, “Sanji, I’m full.”

“Just one more, love, please.”

“Sanji, if I drink any more, I’ll throw up.”

“You won’t throw up, dear.”

“I definitely will. I’m about 80% soup right now. Maybe even 90.”

A slight wrinkle settles on his brow as he pouts. “Darling, you need fluids. It’ll help you recover.”

“I understand that. But there’s only so much room in my body, and we’re full up right now.” Your voice is getting croakier with every word you speak, and you can see Sanji’s eyes filling with even more concern. “Sweetheart, I’ll have more later, I promise. Please just…let me digest for a little bit.”

For a moment you simply stare into each other’s eyes, and you try to emphasize your pout and watery eyes. He folds like a house of cards. “Alright, dear.”

His hands are gentle as he cradles your face, his eyes adoring. You let your eyes close, basking in the love he has for you, before you feel him pull you closer.

You just barely get your hands between your lips, his brushing lightly against your palm.

“Mmm?” He mumbles against your hand in confusion.

“You can’t kiss me! You’ll get sick!”

You’ve never seen him look more devastated in your life. You honestly think he’d be less hurt if you shot him. “I can’t–I–What? No! I can’t kiss you?”

“No! You’ll catch whatever I have!”

“And it will be worth it!”

“I don’t want to get you sick! I don’t want you to feel like this!”

“Darling, not kissing you for however many days this lasts will be far more tortuous than the cold, I assure you.” He leans in again, his expression just begging you to let him press his lips to yours. Are those tears in his eyes?

“Well I’d feel awful getting you sick. And you went twenty-one years without kissing me, I think you can last a few days.” You pull your blanket tighter around you as though to shield yourself from his desperate begging.

“Darling, I didn’t know what I was missing then. Now I can’t live without you for a moment. Please, just one kiss. I probably won’t even get sick.” He falls to his knees, his chin resting on your thigh as he gazes up at you adoringly. “Please, dear. Just one.”

It would be so easy to deny him if you didn’t also desperately want to kiss him. You imagine the comfort of his warm, his arms wrapped around you protectively, his lips against yours. You could really forget how awful you felt, just for a moment. Sanji has a way of making you forget about the rest of the world. But you have to remain strong, for his sake. “Sanji, my love, it’s for your own good.”

He presses his face into your leg, making a pathetic whimpering noise. “My love denies me at my weakest. How cruel.” Despite his words, he nuzzles into your leg when you place a hand on the back of his head. “Would you kiss me if I were sick?”

“You wouldn’t let me.”

His silence speaks volumes.

But then he changes gears.

“But if I get sick from this would you kiss me? Since you’ve already had it?”

“I would.”

He lifts his head a moment, staring at you, before diving for your forgotten cup of soup. Before you can even process what he’s doing, he chugs it, pressing his lips against where yours had rested and purposefully consuming all of the germs you probably put into the cup.

“Sanji, what the hell?”

“Now I’m already infected! I’ll either get sick or I won’t. Kissing you won’t change anything.”

You sigh. That’s not really how this works, but he’s staring at you with such boyish pride for his genius little trick, and you were always going to give in anyway. “Come here, love.”

He actually cries out, “Yay!” like an excited child, before rushing forward to crash your lips together. The kiss is sweet as always, his lips soft and his hands gently caressing your cheeks. When you pull back to breathe, he falls forward, wrapping you in his arms and pressing comically loud smooches all over your face. “I adore you,” he says, with an amount of reverence normally reserved for gods.

“I love you too,” you say with the exasperation that one can only hold for the people they love most. “I’m not taking care of you when you get sick.”

“Yes, you will.” He has the slightest hint of a smug grin on his face before he nuzzles into your neck, pressing his lips against your pulse point. You wonder if he truly understands that beat is only for him.

You can’t hide your smile as it cracks through your faux annoyance. “Yeah, I will. But I’m going to be very smug about it.”

“You can be as smug as you’d like, my dear, as long as you’re with me. You can treat me however you’d like.”

“Don’t say that. What if I wanted to be mean to you?”

“Do you?”

“No, never!” There’s real horror in your tone beneath your cracking voice.

You can feel his lips turn into a fond smile against your skin. “I know, dear. That’s why I can say that to you.”

“I could be evil. People change.”

“Not you, my love.”

“I could be evil! I contain multitudes!”

He laughs quietly, pulling you so you’re pressed against the bed under his comforting weight. “Sure, sure. You could be as evil as you wanted.”

“Right,” you murmur, before a yawn breaks through. Sanji had managed to distract you, but you truly were exhausted fighting off this bug.

“Go to sleep, my love. You need your rest.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“I’ll try. If I’m not, I won’t be long, I promise.”

“...Are you going to bring more soup? I don’t think I can handle any more.”

He doesn’t answer, kissing your forehead before slipping his eyes closed, encouraging you to do the same.

He’s definitely going to bring more soup.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

[left-side-up]

Jupiter

Smallishbeans hit the ground too hard.

When Joel opens his eyes, he's in a desert.

That's strange. For one, the Wild Life server doesn't have a desert. Even if it did, Joel wouldn't be around to see it, seeing as he's dead now.

The sun beams down on the sand. Joel squints. It's unbearably bright here.

The desert looks like it used to be a war zone. Cacti and lava surround its borders, making an impenetrable wall, and in the middle of everything is a series of deep craters.

There's not another soul in sight.

Joel begins walking.

Something about this place seems sad. Familiar, almost. The answer is on the tip of his tongue, but he just can't seem to grasp it. He knows this place.

An image of Gem flashes in his head. She would've liked to build here, he thinks. She'd know how to turn the barren wasteland into something cute and livable. He wishes she'd had more time. A space to build freely without fear of being backstabbed or blown up.

There's something you're forgetting.

"Who was that?"

Joel whips around, searching for the source of the voice. There's still no one here. The sun beams down on the sand.

"Show yourself! I just won a death game, I'll have you know!"

I know.

In the blinding light of the desert, the waves of heat start to reassemble a person.

"Who are you?"

The figure is short, but it's hard to make out any other features. Joel reaches for a sword, but his hand comes back empty.

The mirage raises a hand and gestures for Joel to come closer. Then it starts walking away. Under any other circumstances, Joel wouldn't be dumb enough to follow. But Lizzie and Gem are gone, and Joel is pretty sure he's dead, and there's nothing left to lose now. So he follows.

As they walk, the mirage becomes clearer and clearer. It begins with a more solid outline. Then sandy blond hair. Then a red sweater, and fabric draped over it, large enough to defend from the desert sun. Then feathers, red and blue and yellow.

I killed you, Joel thinks. And then- No. You're not the Grian I killed.

A mountain comes into view. There are structures on top, and stairs leading up to them- evidence of life.

Or not.

The house is just as destroyed as the rest of the desert. All that remains of the front porch is a flowerpot, cracked and lain on its side, dirt and dead lilacs pouring out of it.

The mirage of Grian is now clearer than ever. Joel can see the scars on his hands and the poppy in his hair as he guides him towards their final destination.

A grave. And a ring of cacti. And blood, splattered all around the tiny arena. The mirage kneels in the red sand, resting his hands in his lap.

Sit with me, he beckons, and Joel complies.

It's silent for a moment. Just Joel, the mirage of Grian, and the grave before them. Then-

Can we still be friends?

Joel startles at Scar's voice. He looks around, but there is no Scar, mirage or otherwise.

YOU TRAITOR!

Long live the science bros!

Put your shirt back on!

I am going to murder them.

Grian and Scar's voices echo through the war torn desert, a series of memories Joel has no part in. Some sad, some happy, some bleak or forlorn. Beside him, the mirage holds his head high. Grian has always been a prideful being. Even when he's sad. Even when he's in pain.

...How does he know that?

You may slay me and take the enchanter.

I can't do that.

I think that, no matter what, we can call this a double victory.

Scar, fight back!

I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry, Scar.

Grian fell from a high place.

The mirage is crying.

Joel thinks he can piece together what happened here.

"Grian, is this... was this a life game?"

Do you really want to know?

"Yes."

Grian wipes his tears, then holds out his hands to Joel.

I'm sorry in advance.

"For what?"

The mirage doesn't respond.

Joel sighs and takes Grian's hands.

[oaksgrove]

A Captain for Christmas

pairing: John Price x Reader

synopsis: You’ve been Kyle “Gaz” Garrick’s best friend for years, but this Christmas, he’s determined to play matchmaker. From mistletoe ambushes to not-so-subtle hints, he won’t rest until you and Captain Price have a holiday romance for the books.

word count: 1085

warnings: None, just fluff, holiday cheer, and meddling best friends!

a/n: It's almost christmas so thats my gift for y'all. Merry Christmas mates! <3

The invitation came out of nowhere.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Gaz said, waving the 141’s Christmas dinner invite in front of you like a golden ticket. “Good food, good company… You’re not going to sit at home eating instant noodles again, are you?”

You shot him a flat look. “It was once, Kyle. And I was tired.”

“Whatever you say,” he teased, grinning as he dropped onto the couch beside you. “But you’re coming. No arguments.”

You sighed, already sensing you weren’t going to win this one. And maybe, just maybe, a small part of you didn’t want to.

That’s how you ended up at the 141’s Christmas dinner party, clutching a mug of mulled wine and feeling entirely out of place. The room was warm and lively, filled with laughter and the soft clinking of glasses. But you couldn’t shake the nerves curling in your stomach like an unwelcome guest.

The team was kind, welcoming in their own way, but it was obvious they shared a bond you couldn’t quite touch. You watched the way they bantered, teased, and laughed—years of trust woven into every word. It made you ache for something you couldn’t quite name.

“Relax,” Gaz whispered beside you, leaning in with a nudge. “They’re just people.”

“Intimidating people,” you muttered, your eyes flicking toward Captain John Price at the head of the table.

He had an air about him—quiet, commanding, the kind of presence that filled a room without trying. Yet, when he caught Soap’s wild hand gestures and chuckled under his breath, there was something so… human about him.

“Don’t let the beard fool you,” Gaz said with a smirk. “He’s not as grumpy as he looks.”

Before you could respond, Price’s deep voice cut through the din. “Kyle, aren’t you going to introduce us to your guest?”

Your cheeks flushed as all eyes turned toward you.

“This,” Gaz said, clapping a hand on your shoulder, “is my best mate. Been through thick and thin together.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Price said, his tone polite but curious as his eyes settled on you. He extended a hand, and you shook it, your palm warm against his.

“Likewise,” you managed, though the butterflies in your stomach were threatening to take flight.

The night carried on, and you started to relax—or at least fake it well enough. Soap’s loud laughter and over-the-top stories were impossible not to enjoy, and the food was something out of a holiday dream.

Still, your gaze kept drifting to Price. The way his eyes softened when he spoke to his team, the quiet authority in his posture. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way he looked at you—noticing when your glass was empty, offering a subtle smile when you caught him glancing your way.

And those glances… they made your heart stutter.

Gaz, ever the sharp-eyed friend, leaned in close. “You’re smitten,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

“Am not,” you shot back, glaring at him.

He grinned, leaning back smugly. “You’re terrible at lying.”

You wanted to argue, but the truth lodged itself in your throat. Because the fact was, you were smitten. And you hated how obvious it was.

As the night moved to gift exchanges and drinks in the sitting room, you noticed Gaz was acting… strange. Disappearing and reappearing with that mischievous glint in his eye that meant trouble. You didn’t think much of it until Soap’s exaggerated gasp drew everyone’s attention.

“Oi, what’s this?”

You turned to see him pointing at the doorway, where a sprig of mistletoe dangled conspicuously.

“Who put that there?” Soap asked, his grin wide enough to split his face.

Gaz raised his hand nonchalantly. “Festive spirit, mate. Thought it’d add to the ambiance.”

Your stomach dropped. You shot him a look that promised retribution, but before you could say a word, you noticed Price looking at the mistletoe. Then at you.

For a moment, he hesitated, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he stepped forward, his movements deliberate but gentle.

“Tradition’s tradition,” he said softly, holding out his hand.

Your heart raced as you placed yours in his. The world seemed to hold its breath as he leaned in, pressing a warm, fleeting kiss to your cheek.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured, his breath brushing your skin.

Your cheeks burned, and you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Merry Christmas, Captain.”

The room erupted into cheers and whistles, Soap’s voice loudest of all. “Get in there, Price!”

But you barely heard them, too caught up in the way Price’s blue eyes lingered on yours, like he was seeing something he wasn’t quite ready to let go of.

Later, when the room had quieted and you’d stepped out onto the porch for some air, you replayed the moment in your mind. Your hand drifted to your cheek, the warmth of his kiss still lingering there.

The door creaked open behind you, and you turned to see Price stepping out, his coat slung over his arm.

“Thought I’d find you here,” he said, his voice calm and steady as always.

You smiled faintly. “Needed some air.”

He nodded, leaning against the railing beside you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hum of the night wrapping around you like a blanket.

“Gaz… he’s been meddling, hasn’t he?” Price asked, his lips twitching into a small smile.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “He’s not exactly subtle.”

“No, he’s not,” Price agreed, the amusement in his voice unmistakable.

Silence settled again, but this time it felt different—heavier, more charged. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, taking in the way the soft glow of the porch light caught the edges of his beard.

“For what it’s worth,” he said finally, his voice low and sincere, “I’m glad he did.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it.

“If you’re free,” he continued, his gaze meeting yours, steady and warm, “I’d like to take you out. Properly. No meddling sergeants involved.”

You blinked, the words sinking in slowly. Then, a smile broke across your face—soft, nervous, but genuine.

“Alright, Captain,” you said, your voice teasing but light. “You��ve got yourself a date.”

And as the two of you stepped back inside, Gaz’s smug grin waiting for you, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this Christmas was the start of something far greater than you ever imagined.

[fanfoolishness]

Kiss meme:

Lucanis x Rook 26

Harding x Rook 38

I did already write one for Harding x Rook for running out of time, which is here! But I hope you enjoy this extremely fluffy Lucanis x Rook for a kiss as an apology. Set directly after the dessert scene.

-

“You don’t have to walk me back to my room, you know,” Rook said, her voice rich and amused. “It isn’t far.”

“You didn’t have to say yes,” Lucanis countered, smiling as they entered the Lighthouse together. He felt as if he couldn’t stop smiling. She’d been delighted with the churros he’d made her, and even better, she’d understood what he’d really meant by them. A few crumbs of cinnamon still dusted the corners of her lips. He was seized by a sudden desire to wipe them away.

Rook makes you feel safe, Spite observed. The demon had been easier to understand since the strange trip to the shadow-Ossuary. Rook’s doing, most likely. Makes you lighter. Touch her? Keep her!

Lucanis swallowed. There was little he’d like to do more. But ah, he was being greedy… she had already told him tonight that what he did was enough. That he was enough. The memory warmed him, bolstered him in the quiet chill of the Lighthouse. It was always so still here when the others were asleep. He wondered if Rook could hear his heartbeat.

“Lucanis?” Rook asked, pausing at the foot of the stairs. She leaned against the banister, giving him a curious look, eyes narrowed in concentration. “Is Spite there?”

“You noticed,” he said, stopping one step up. “Forgive me. He chatters about you.”

“Only good things, I hope,” she chuckled.

Rook likes us! Tell her. Show her!

I did! With the churros! Lucanis thought irritably. And she likes me.

I didn’t see. Chasing wisps. Tell her again!

“Still there?” Rook asked, her expression of amusement fading to faint concern. Lucanis shook his head, coming back to himself as if coming up for air.

“He is… insistent.” And perhaps not wrong. He took a small step closer to her, narrowing the distance between them.

“About what?”

“That I be honest,” Lucanis said, and before he could back away or think better of it, he leaned forward, closed his eyes, and kissed her.

He should have closed his eyes last, he realized belatedly. His nose bumped into hers, and his attempt left his lips askew, catching just the edge of her mouth. He tasted crumbs of sweet cinnamon sugar.

Then her hand was on his cheek, and she adjusted their position until her lips moved against his, warm and soft, a hint of her open mouth and tongue leaving his legs unsteady and his chest blooming with fire. She pulled away, her eyes bright, her nose and cheeks slightly pink. Was she blushing?

He took a deep, shaky breath. ”I am sorry,” he said.

Rook raised her eyebrows so high they nearly vanished. “For what? Lucanis, that was—” She grinned, giggling. “Very enjoyable.”

“For not doing it earlier,” Lucanis said, exhaling. “I wanted to. But I hadn’t — I did not know if —“ He wasn’t sure what he was trying to say about that day in the pantry. He’d known what he wanted then, but couldn’t say it, couldn’t go through with it. But things were different now.

She did make him feel safe.

He smiled back at her. “Never mind. I hope you do not mind my clumsiness. I am new at this.”

She resumed climbing the stairs, and he walked along beside her. “Well, don’t you worry about that,” she said, leaning over and nudging his shoulder as they reached the top of the stairs. “You’ve mastered assassination and cooking. I have a feeling you can master anything you put your mind to. And if you need me to help you practice, um — I’d be happy to help.” She was definitely blushing.

He felt his own cheeks warm in response. “I am looking forward to, ah, training with you.”

“Stop it,” she chuckled. “You’re terrible.”

“I’ve been told this, yes.”

They stopped in front of the hallway to Rook’s room, and she gave him a fond look. “I suppose I’d better get some rest. I do feel sleepy after that feast you made us.” She reached out, squeezing his arm gently, her touch electric in the best way. “See you tomorrow, Lucanis. Get some rest, will you? Both of you. For me?”

Lucanis laughed. A direct request from Rook? That would be enough for Spite. He could sense Spite’s glee in the back of his mind. Or was it his own? It was hard to tell right now.

“I will do my best,” he promised. He tipped his head to her in a small nod and headed back down the stairs, his hand jittery on the banister, the taste of cinnamon on his tongue.

He would certainly try to get some rest. No more coffee tonight, which would help. But this new joy flaring within him, bright and fierce and soaring, might make sleep elusive for a little while longer.

He didn’t mind a bit.

[olailamajnoon]

Bruce got up from a coma to find that the Manor had become the site of a baking contest, with everyone who was anyone in the superhero community participating, either as contestant or judge.

"What the fuck," he croaked to Alfred the moment he could.

"Steady on, Master B," Alfred said staidly. "You had so many visitors in your...state, that I'm afraid Miss Cassandra and Miss Stephanie took horrible advantage of it. Master Richard reluctantly agreed, citing morale as the reason, although I suspect it may have just been his sweet tooth that won the day."

"Alfred," said Bruce wearily. "How likely is it that my awakening will go unnoticed."

"Your 'awakening', as you put it, although that word rather implies that you are a mummy—"

"...Alfred!"

"—will be noticed in no time. Master Clark has been...quite assiduous in his visitations."

"How assiduous?"

"He visits everyday, and checks on you twice or thrice. There is just no keeping him away. He has brought over Masters Jon and Conner. They are rather ahead on the scoreboard."

"There's a scoreboard?" Bruce rubbed his face. "Alfred, please tell me you have not taken part in any of this tomfoolery."

Alfred looked mildly guilt-stricken. "Well I'm afraid you see, sir, that I am...head judge."

"What about Selina?" asked Bruce, his head wandering.

"Miss Kyle has submitted her lioness, Nala, along with Master Damian's pet tiger, to the 'animal judges' section of the baking contest."

Bruce grit his teeth in annoyance. "The more I learn, the more I wish I had stayed in bed. But, I suppose, every buffoonery must end."

Alfred stopped in his tracks. "Buffoonery, sir?"

Bruce looked up at him, sliding on his gown. "Well surely you don't agree this should have been done?"

Alfred looked still. "Well, sir—"

He looked away. Bruce's hackles rose. "What?"

"You forget. The participants of this contest were not here for this...buffoonery, as you put it. They were here because they cared about you enough to drop their lives and come to your home, and stay with your children in their grief, and bake silly cakes that they probably had no interest in baking. They stood here as your heart rate fluctuated and stabilized, they supported each other and were stronger together. And the thing that bonded them was you, sir." Alfred turned to the heart rate monitor, and turned it off. He still had his back to Bruce. "Most persons would be lucky to have half so many people their lives, who cared half as much."

Bruce's face grew still. "Alfred, you don't think—that I don't appreciate it."

"Of course not, sir," said Alfred soothingly. "I know you have a hard time expressing your feelings. And some of the blame, I'm afraid, rests with me."

"No—"

"Yes, sir. I never taught you how to say thank you. You have many virtues, but I'm afraid gratitude's one that was missed." Alfred gathered up the sensors, and stuffed the syringes, tidying up. "So you can start with me, and work your way up."

He looked up at Bruce expectantly.

"Thank you," said Bruce, in an abashed voice. "I know I haven't been the best at—"

"You're welcome, dear boy," said Alfred, his wrinkled face illuminated with a smile. "You're always going to be welcome."

Bruce leaned forward and hugged Alfred. Alfred's lean body returned the hug with a fierceness that Bruce had not expected from the seventy-year-old man.

"Now," said Alfred, after they both had cleared their throats and looked away in embarrassment. "The winners of the contest are to be given their prize by you. So I suppose there will be multiple reasons for people to be happy you have awoken."

"Who has won?" Bruce asked, thinking about the people who visited him in his coma: strong firm hands that held his and did not let go, a woman's subtle perfume that enveloped him with one kiss, and a small boy's warm tears that fell on his father's face.

"Hal Jordan," announced Alfred, checking the scorecard.

Bruce groaned. "Not that man."

"I'm afraid so. The judges were unanimous, after tasting his soufflé. I suspect he used extra-terrestrial ingredients, but although that went against the spirit of the competition, it did not go against the letter of it." Alfred smoothed down the sheets. "I must inform you, Master Harold has been instrumental in keeping Master Damian's hopes up, in regards to your recovery. 'Your father is one tough bastard to beat', I believe were his words."

Bruce stood up. "Well, I suppose I can give Hal Jordan his stupid prize." He corrected his sleeves, brushing lint off them. There was something stupid in his heart. He suspected it to be fondness. When had so many good people started caring for him? And why would they care for a fuck-up?

As usual, Alfred read him to a tee. "Let us put our self-doubt to rest, Master Bruce. Go upstairs and be a bloody good host."

Bruce sighed, although his heart was almost content, for once. "Yes, Alfred."

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Can you do more blurbs on Sirius x potter reader?

Your work is amazing!!!

AN:Thank you so much!! I am slowly working my way through my requests and I am sorry this took so long!! The original series seems to end on a good note to me, so I am going with a new concept!

Rock 'n Roll

Sirius Black x Potter!Reader who learns a thing or two about rock 'n roll...

Summary: Sirius stays home with a hangover, but the reader is always there to lend a hand.

Wc: 2.5k

CW: Very suggestive, reader is uptown/very princess type, slight corruption if you squint.

The morning was quiet, the soft hum of birdsong drifting in through the open windows of the Potter manor. Sunlight filtered lazily through the lace curtains, casting delicate patterns on the floor. Euphemia’s cheerful voice rang through the hallways as she corralled Fleamont and James into the livingroom for an early errand.

“Sirius, are you coming?” Euphemia called, pausing near the doorway of his room. James snickered behind her as Sirius groaned from inside.

“Think I’ll pass, Euphie,” Sirius mumbled, his voice sharp. “Got some… stuff to do.”

James barked a laugh. “Stuff? You mean nursing that hangover?”

“Don’t wait up,” Sirius muffled into his pillow, his voice hoarse, and Euphemia rolled her eyes fondly before ushering her other boys out.

Down the hall, you sat perched on the edge of your neatly made bed, your doe eyes flicking toward the empty corridor. Calling out a goodbye to your mother before waiting patiently for the front door to close. With your parents and James gone, an odd silence fell over the house.

An hour or so later, you made your way down the hall to Sirius’s room, a smirk tugging at your lips as you knocked lightly on the door. When there was no response, you pushed it open, stepping inside with practiced ease.

The room was chaos. Band posters plastered the walls, clashing with the faded floral wallpaper beneath them. Records and empty bottles littered the floor, and the faint scent of smoke and leather lingered in the air. Sirius was sprawled on the bed, his dark hair a tousled mess against the pillow, his eyes closed as he groaned softly at your intrusion.

“You smell like regret,” You hummed, walking over to his desk. Giving a small grimace at the incense ash that stained the wood polish. You huffed as you grabbed one of his torn record sleeves and dusted the ash aside. “Lucky for you, I’m feeling generous.”

Sirius cracked one eye open, squinting at you. “And what exactly makes you think I regret anything, Bambi?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” You mused, stepping further into the room and setting the glass of green liquid on his nightstand. “The Firewhiskey bottle on the bed? The ashtray overflowing with cigarettes? The fact that you didn’t even bother to make up a better excuse for my mother?”

Sirius laughed weakly, sitting up just enough to grab the glass. “Touché. What is this, anyway?”

“Hangover remedy,” You shrugged, crossing your arms. Ignoring how Sirius’s eyes swept over you, giving a low sarcastic scoff at you- wasn't new. Seemed to find it just the funniest thing that you kept to your best. Even behind closed doors “Drink it. You’ll thank me later.”

He eyed the liquid warily before taking a cautious sip, wincing at the taste. “Merlin, did you bottle swamp water?”

“Wish I thought of that.” You sighed and waved your hand, taking a better look at the poor past guest room. “It's known to cure even the most hopeless cases.”

He downed the rest, setting the glass aside with a wince. He gave a faint cough before leaning back on his elbows. “Hopeless, eh? I’d argue you don’t know the first thing about that.”

“Oh, I know plenty,” You shot back, wandering over to the guitar propped against the wall. The only semi pristine thing left untouched by stains. You picked it up, running your fingers over the strings experimentally. “Like wearing white heels after Labor Day.”

Sirius barked a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re something else, you know that? You're more proper then your mother.”

You plucked an awkward chord, grimacing slightly at the sound. Walking back over to him you sat on the edge of his bed, plucking a painfully ugly tune.

Sirius curled up his lips and sat up further. “That sounds bloody awful.”

“What a gentleman you are.” You huffed before slowly smirking to yourself. Leaning against one of the bed posts. “How hard can it be? If you can do it, I can.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, his grin widening as he reached out and plucked the guitar from your hands. His fingers brushed yours briefly, and for a moment, the air between you stilled, heavy- as if taunting you. 'You're in over your head’.

He cradled the instrument with the ease of someone who knew it inside out, leaning back casually against the headboard. “You’re all talk, Bambi.” He teased, strumming a quick, clean chord to emphasize his point. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t stop him as he began to adjust the tuning with deft fingers, the familiar twang of strings filling the room. “I didn’t say I was a rockstar, Black. Just that I could figure it out.”

“Well, you’ve got a long way to go,” He shot back, tilting his head toward you with a playful smirk. “Come here. I’ll show you the basics.”

You hesitated for a moment before scooting closer, sitting cross-legged on the bed beside him. Sirius shifted the guitar onto his lap and motioned for you to take it again. When you did, he leaned in, his arm brushing against yours as he reached over to adjust your grip.

“Alright, press here,” He murmured, his voice low as he guided your fingers to the correct position on the frets. His hand lingered over yours for a beat too long, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that felt far too intentional. “And strum with this hand. Not too hard, not too soft.”

You followed his instructions, managing to produce a passable chord this time. Sirius grinned, leaning back slightly to admire your work. “See? Not bad for a beginner.”

You shot him a triumphant look, sitting up straighter as you strummed the chord again. “Told you I could do it. I’m officially a rock ‘n roller.”

Sirius chuckled, the sound low and warm in his chest. He tilted his head, his gray eyes shining with amusement as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping into a teasing murmur. “Do you even know what rock ‘n roll means, Bambi?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone- able to smell the cigarette smoke and bitter cheap beer on his breath. “Of course I do. It’s… music, rebellion, leather jackets-”

“Wrong.” He interrupted, his lips curving into a devilish grin. He reached out, his fingers brushing yours again as he took the guitar from you and set it aside. “Rock ‘n roll,” He continued, his voice barely above a whisper now, “means sex.”

Your jaw opened but no words left- shock taking over your features. You tried to laugh it off, but the sound came out softer than you intended. “Trust you to make it about that.”

Sirius’s grin widened as he leaned back against the headboard, his devil-may-care confidence only deepening the charge in the room.

“I think you’re just jealous,” You shot again, sitting up straighter and folding your arms. “All this talk of rebellion, and here I am, out-rocking you.”

Sirius snorted, his fingers raking through his tousled hair. “Jealous? Please. The day you out-rock me, Bambi, is the day I start drinking tea with my pinky up.”

“Proper suits you, Black.” You smirked, leaning forward and propping your elbows on your knees. Your perfume- a mix of lavender and something faintly citrus- drifting toward him. His eyes flicked to yours, just a moment too long for it to be casual. “Isn't that what all the girls tell you?”

Sirius smirked, leaning back further against the headboard, his hands casually resting on his thighs. The faint glow of sunlight through the curtains highlighted the sharp angles of his face, and the devilish gleam in his gray eyes was impossible to ignore.

“So,” he began, his voice low and teasing, “which poor bloke are you stringing along this week, Bambi?”

You rolled your eyes, sitting up straighter. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not stringing anyone along.”

Sirius chuckled, the sound deep and warm in his chest. “Right, because it’s not like every guy you meet turns into a drooling idiot the second you smile at them.”

“Jealous, Black?” You quipped, arching an eyebrow.

“Hardly,” he shot back, his smirk widening. “Just concerned for their safety. You’ve got a way of leaving a trail of broken hearts, princess. Someone ought to warn them.”

You scoffed, brushing off his words, but the way his gaze lingered on you sent a spark of heat rushing to your cheeks. “I don’t leave broken hearts,” you muttered, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. “They just… get the wrong idea.”

“Wrong idea, huh?” Sirius leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at you. His voice dropped slightly, his tone turning playful but pointed. “Tell me, Bambi, do they know about your habit of sneaking into my room and making yourself at home?”

You froze for a split second before narrowing your eyes at him. “This isn’t sneaking.”

“Right,” he drawled, his smirk growing. “Helping me recover from my ‘regret smell.’ How noble of you. But tell me- if James walked in here right now and saw you sitting on my bed, what do you think he’d do?”

Your breath hitched, but you masked it with a roll of your eyes. “James wouldn’t care. He knows I can take care of myself.”

Sirius barked a laugh, shaking his head. “You really believe that? James would lose his bloody mind if he found out his perfect little sister was in my bed. He’d probably hex me into next week.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Well, it’s a good thing he’s not here, then.”

Sirius’s grin turned wicked as he leaned closer, his voice dropping into a low murmur. “Good thing, indeed. Because if he were, I’d have a lot of explaining to do.”

Your pulse quickened as his words hung in the air, the weight of them far heavier than the playful tone he tried to maintain. “Explain what?” You asked, your voice steady despite the way your heart pounded.

Sirius tilted his head, his gray eyes locking onto yours. “How I ended up here. With you. Pretending like it’s not driving me mad.”

You blinked, caught completely off guard. “Sirius…”

He chuckled softly, leaning back again but not breaking eye contact. “Relax, Bambi. Just having a bit of fun. Besides, you’ve got enough admirers to keep you busy. Wouldn’t want to cramp your style.”

You scoffed, standing abruptly and brushing invisible dust off your skirt. “Honestly, Black, I don’t see how every girl at Hogwarts has been falling over themselves for you. You’re all talk, no substance. Bit overrated, if you ask me.”

Sirius grinned, completely unbothered by your jab. If anything, he looked more amused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned back against the headboard, utterly relaxed. “Overrated, am I?” He asked, his voice low and teasing. “Careful, Bambi. Comments like that could hurt a bloke’s feelings.”

“Oh, please,” you muttered, pacing a few steps away and running your fingers along the fraying edge of a poster on his wall. “You thrive on it. The attention, the rumors, the… theatrics.” You turned back to him, one eyebrow raised. “You’re practically a walking soap opera.”

Sirius let out a low laugh, sitting up straighter and running a hand through his dark hair. “And here I thought you were above paying me so much attention. Sounds like someone’s been taking notes.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” You shot back, but the slight twitch of his lips told you he wasn’t taking anything you said too seriously.

“Alright, Bambi,” Sirius drawled, pushing himself off the bed and closing the gap between you with a few lazy strides. He was now standing in front of you, towering just enough to make you aware of the space between you both. “Since you’re the expert, why don’t you show me how it’s done? What’s your idea of substance?”

You blinked up at him, momentarily thrown by how close he’d gotten. “I-” You started, but before you could finish, Sirius leaned in, grabbing the edge of his leather jacket that had been thrown over a chair just behind you. He slung it on with practiced ease, his movements fluid and deliberate as he adjusted the collar.

And then he smirked, reaching for the sunglasses on his desk and sliding them on with a casual flick of his wrist. He tilted his head, his grin wicked as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “What do you think?” He asked, his voice low and dripping with mock arrogance. “Still think I’m overrated, or have I won you over yet?”

You rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck. “You look ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously charming,” Sirius countered, pushing himself off the wall and stepping closer. His grin widened when you didn’t immediately step back. “Face it, Bambi. Even you aren’t immune to the Black charm.”

“Oh, please,” You muttered, crossing your arms over your chest and looking away. “That ‘charm’ only works on girls too distracted by their own hormones to notice how insufferable you are.”

Sirius chuckled softly, closing the distance between you even more. Now, he was close- too close- and his voice dropped to a murmur, teasing and laced with something heavier. “You sure about that? Because you’re looking a little distracted yourself.”

Your eyes snapped to his, ready to fire back another retort, but the words died on your tongue when you realized how close his face was to yours. The smugness in his expression, the heat in his gaze, the slight curve of his lips- it all hit you at once, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

Sirius tilted his head, his smirk softening as he leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. “See, Bambi,” He murmured, his breath ghosting over your cheek, “the thing about rock ‘n roll is… you feel it.”

Before you could respond, Sirius moved in. What started as a cocky stunt- a light brush of his lips against yours, meant to prove some ridiculous point- shifted in an instant. The kiss deepened, Sirius’s hands moving to your waist as if he couldn’t help himself.

You froze for half a second, every nerve in your body firing at once, before your arms slipped up around his neck, pulling him closer. His smirk melted into something hotter, more desperate, as he backed you toward the bed, his hands never leaving you.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” You muttered against his lips, your voice breathless and shaky but still carrying some of its usual defiance.

“Of course not,” Sirius murmured back, his grin evident in his tone as he pushed you gently onto the mattress- flicking off his sunglasses to some pile on the floor. “Not a thing.”

And then his lips found yours again, and for once, neither of you bothered pretending.

[five-and-dimes]

🥶🥶 for the ask thing :)

The end of this snippet is definitely something I've shared before, but because of you I finally wrote the part that connects it to the last scene! Progress! 🙌

“I would not want to intrude…” he says slowly. Hob waves him off, “Nonsense, it looks like the end of days out there, what kind of mate would I be if I let you out in that? You’d probably blow away.” Dream huffed, a little offended, but he couldn’t deny Hob had a point, “Well… thank you,” he muttered awkwardly. “No problem!” Hob began stacking their books and putting their notes into orderly piles. Dream assisted, putting his own supplies back into his backpack and handing Hob the highlighters that were just out of his reach. “I can loan you some sweats. And I know the bed is small, but I got one of those mattress toppers so it’s super comfy at least-” “Wait-” Dream interrupted, blinking in confusion, “I will simply sleep on the floor. I do not mind.” Hob shrugged, “I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” For a moment, Dream opened and closed his mouth, no words coming out. Finally, he explains softly, “I do not wish to disturb your rest. I have been told I am. Unpleasant to share a bed with.” Hob looks up from where he was rifling through his dresser, appalled, “Someone said that to you?” “Many have.” Many have said much worse. Few people bother softening their words to Dream. On one memorable occasion a hookup had laughed in his ear and said he felt like he was fucking a corpse. After he finished, he’d practically shoved Dream out the door, cheerfully letting him know “this ain’t a morgue, sweetheart” with a wink before slamming the door in his face. When he got home, he sat in the shower for hours, wondering why no one had a problem with his body when they were fucking him, but they did when he wanted anything else. But. Hob does not need these details. Strangely, he looks upset with the little Dream has revealed. “God, people can be such assholes.” Dream tilted his head, “You often talk about how much you value truthfulness. I would think you’d appreciate their brutal honesty.” “I hate brutal honesty.” The vehemence in his voice catches Dream by surprise. Turning to give Dream his full attention, Hob continues, “The whole ‘brutal honesty’ thing is an excuse people use to get away with being cruel. I value compassionate honesty. Much different.” Not for the first time, Dream thinks that Hob Gadling is the strangest man he’s ever met. “Very well,” he responds slowly, “In that case. Out of compassion, I will tell you that I am a poor bedmate. You are being very kind to let me stay the night, you need not sacrifice your comfort as well.” Hob hums in consideration, crossing his arms as he looks at Dream in consideration, “Would it make you uncomfortable?” The question catches him by surprise, and for a moment Dream just blinks at him. “Pardon?” “Well, you keep going on about my comfort,” Hob points out, “If you’re uncomfortable sharing, and this is like, your roundabout way of getting out of it, that’s totally fine, I’ll drop it,” He raises an eyebrow like a challenge, “But be honest.”