#He’s got a bit of an ego. But thankfully it suits him

[cubikzoa]

Mourningstar, The Lightbringer, The Golden-Death, Sun-Savior

A little backstory / symbolic art piece of a gay little chaotic and evil-ish Deity from a story that swims around in my head from time to time 🫠

So yeah he’s sorta the actual Devil. But not quite as you’d probably imagine. (He maintains that those apostles did him dirty when they wrote that little book that people seem to like.) He’s been perceived by humans as a lot of things throughout the eons, Seth to the ancient Egyptians, Apollo or Helios to the Greeks and Romans, Lucifer to Christian people (there’s a reason the name Lucifer means “light”,) and various other powerful and dangerous gods and entities across time and space.

But he maintains that all he really wants to do is kick it at the club, cause problems on purpose, and revel in the innate chaos of the 22nd century.

Mass destruction and/or catastrophe isn’t on his calendar until Wednesday, and hey, everybody feels a little grumpy during the workweek, amiright?

[jarofstyles]

Strawberry Sunrise

Helloooo. Welcome to part one of a short series I’m doing. I’ve been dying to do a sporty/ personal trainer sort of thing so I’ve picked this back up after abandoning it for a bit! Please leave feedback if this is something you’d like to see more of on here!

Check out our Patreon for early access to parts 2-3 and 180+ exclusive writings

Warnings- mention of stalking, consent, gym culture, men being creeps, smitten H, anxiety

WC- 3.8k

Harry had always enjoyed the gym.

The burn in his muscles was his release of choice, choosing to express his innermost emotions with working up a sweat as he ran miles on the treadmill, muscles straining as he lifted and knuckles sore as he worked the bag. He’d spend hours working out purely for enjoyment and release in his time off, not only for the burn but from the community surrounding it. That being said, it made a lot of sense that when he got tired early on in the corporate world, he decided to become a personal trainer. A really successful one at that- thankfully, considering his father had been very skeptical at the profession change.

Working at a higher end gym, the facilities always remained spotless. There was a sauna and steam room, an in-ground heated pool and jacuzzi room, lush locker rooms with wooden locker cubbies and provided locks and fluffy white towels, and even held a boxing ring on the bottom floor which he loved to spar in in his free time. It was in a refashioned warehouse, lux looking in a rustic way.

He built his career and clientele over the span of a few years and had gotten into the groove of it fairly quickly. Working with positive reinforcement and meditative breathing before and after each session, people found his presence calming and many trusted him to help get them to their potential- which he proudly did. His routine varied but it always ended the day with a smoothie from the smoothie bar run inside the lobby. Choco PB, Mango Delight, or a Strawberry Sunrise with extra protein were his go tos.

One of his new favorite parts about his job, though, was the new receptionist at the front desk. Y/N.

A complete and utter sweetheart who, for a lack of better words, was a breath of fresh air in the usually gruff, testosterone filled setting. He loved watching her chat, even more watching her politely reject the many customers who tried to get her number. She didn’t seem to have a clue just how alluring she was. Her beaming smile and saccharine little giggle that made his toes curl, he was crushing on her big time. If he wasn’t afraid to risk her feeling comfortable at the work environment by potentially rejecting him, he’d have asked her out already but it was only 4 months in and she was a hit with everyone. He didn’t want to be the reason she left. Most of the other trainers were in relationships or married so she had been safe and had a good relationship with them all as colleagues, though Harry liked to flirt with her lightheartedly. He could tell she got her a little flustered and the arrogant son of a bit in him fucking loved it.

But what he didn’t love, though, was when she hesitantly found him with teary eyes after locking the front door with shaky hands as closing time finished and it was just employees of the gym. Her face was pale, spooked and Harry was not a fan of. Fear didn’t suit her.

“Harry?” Her shaky voice whispered. “I don’t mean to bother you at all, but if- could you wait for me before you leave? There’s… there’s that one guy, one of Liam’s clients? He kept asking me out and he got mad that I really said no and he’s been waiting outside at closing time and I’m just-‘I’m scared and….”’a quiver of her lip made his chest ache while also burning in rage.

Something he hated more than anything was someone who couldn’t take no for an answer, more specifically men who couldn’t let their bruised ego be healed in private, lick their wounds and accept that they’d not gotten what they wanted. Instead they harassed the other person as if the fucking answer would change. But to do it to Y/N? He felt enraged.

“He did what?” His mouth parted in surprise, brows pulling together as his shoulders squared up. Sure enough he could see a car parked right outside the door with the lights off, but someone visibly inside. Y/N parked close to the building and he must have known that. “Fuck, Sweets. M’sorry.” He groaned. “Absolutely not acceptable. M’gonna make sure Liam knows and that he’s dropped as a member here but of course I’ll walk you out. Are you almost done?” His hand reached for her shoulder to give an appreciative squeeze, bare skin meeting his palm. She wore a tank top with the gym’s logo and yoga pants, her name tag taken off already.

“Yeah- I just have to shut down the computers and sweep the front. Is that okay?” Her teeth chewed nervously on her bottom lip. “I’m so sorry to keep you. I know you’ve had a long day and you have one tomorrow too, I just, I have a bad feeling and I’m scared. I wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t give me the creeps even before.”

Harry was vaguely familiar with the dude, mostly because he had snickered at Y/N’s polite attempt to tell him no to a date previously- but now, that wasn’t so funny. “Hey.” His thumb brushed over her skin. “Don’t apologize. I won’t hear it. Of course I’d do this for you, I care. I’d never let anyone be in danger, least of all you. You’re the best receptionist we’ve ever had and I’d be crushed if something happened to you. Everyone would.” Mostly him, though. His crush was real. However now wasn’t the time to deal with that.

“Thank you so much.” She sighed in relief, reaching up to squeeze his wrist. “I’ll only be a minute, okay? Just stand right there.”

And he did. He watched as she shut down the computers and grabbed the little broom to sweep up the little bits around the front desk, thanking Harry when he brought the trash can out from the front desk for her to pour the dust pan into. Her thanks was gracious, grabbing her keys and nervously following behind him as he made his way out first.

It seemed that the man hadn’t expected Harry to still be there, as he had parked further back in the lot. The look of surprise made Harry irritated as he directly went to the car, knocking on the window. The man hesitantly rolled it down a little bit, Harry’s arm braced on the hood as he leaned down to speak to him.

“Absolutely unacceptable.” He said straight. “She said no. Dunno what or how that translates to ‘wait for her after work to crowd and stalk her like a creep’, but let me spell it out for you.” His voice dropped lower. “You’re going to stay away from her. She isn’t available, not for you. You’re going to listen when women tell you no, and leave it fucking be. Know she’s a pretty thing but that doesn’t give you the right to follow her around.”

“What are you? Her boyfriend?” The man sneered, making Harry’s jaw clench. Was he dense? Truly?

“S’not your business who I am to her. All you need to know is that she isn’t on the market, stalking is unattractive and if you don’t leave her the fuck alone, I swear to you that there will be consequences. I’d suggest finding another gym, mate.” He patted the top of his car before pulling back, finding Y/N standing by the glass doors, wringing her hands. The look of relief on her face as Harry approached and the guy’s car peeled out of the lot made his anger worth every bit.

“Told ‘em off.” Adjusting the bag on his shoulder, he walked with her to her car and made sure she got her bag in. “Hey- let me follow you home, yeah? I’ll give you my number and you can text me if he bugs you again but I’d feel better knowing you got in safe and he isn’t out there waiting for you somewhere else.” He wouldn’t put it past an idiot like that.

“Normally I’d try to tell you no, but I can’t tell you how much that would mean to me.” Her body sagged in relief as she took him by surprise, taking him in for a hug. “Thank you so much. I was so scared he’d try to take me or something, I watch too much Criminal Minds or something but.” She shrugged, pulling back far too soon. It had taken him by surprise and he hadn’t had nearly enough time to appreciate her sweet smelling, warm body against his own.

“Anytime, Y/N. Seriously. Your safety is important to me.” More than she’s known. “Let’s get going, yeah? Know you had an emotional day.”

—-

Harry had driven her home, smiling and beeping once she had gotten inside her apartment building but waiting to drive off before he had gotten her little text of ‘ inside!!! :-)’

He spent the rest of the night trying to work away his anger, cooking a quick meal before heading off to bed. Y/N was too good for shit like that. He’d shot a text to Liam letting him know he told his client to fuck off and he’d help find another but was assured that it was a good loss anyways, which only helped ease him. The girl wouldn’t have to deal with it again.

He just hoped she would be okay.

—-

The next morning he was greeted by her smiling face, melting off the apprehension he had felt all morning. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail with two loose tendrils around her face, looking as cute as ever as she waved at him.

“Hi, Harry!” She chirped. “I’ve got a smoothie with your name on it when you’re ready for it later. Thank you again for helping me last night.” His membership card was quickly scanned and handed back. Her smile was infectious, making his own rise on the corner of his lips.

“Yeah? I’m glad to have helped. I’m here for anything y’need, Sweets.” If only she knew how far that could go for her. Maybe it was better she didn’t. He was really into her but he was hyper aware of how it could come off now, so he would proceed with caution. “I’ll hold you to the smoothie when m’on my lunch.”

For the first time in quite a while, Harry had a hard time concentrating on his sessions. Of course he poured himself into it as much as he could, but he couldn’t stop thinking about last night. How shaken up Y/N had been and how she had been so appreciative. He couldn’t help it, because he’d already had a crush on her and the fact that she trusted him enough to come to him for help made him really happy. He was also still mad that the man had crossed such big boundary and genuinely scared the hell out of probably the sweetest girl anyone’s met.

Being in his own head also explained why said girl scared the shit out of him, making him jump as he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. Jumping from the stool, he turned to a wide eyed Y/N and tore the earbuds out of his ears with a very, very embarrassing yelp. “Shit! Y/N, you scared me.”

As if it wasn’t obvious.

“I’m so sorry!” She peeped, hand over her mouth. “I said your name and I didn’t see you had in your earbuds. I’m so sorry.” Her babbling was very cute, but he didn’t want her to feel bad.

“It’s okay- just made me jump.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Shit, it’s my fault for sitting here with them on at work. You did nothing wrong.” His palm squeezed, making her shoulders relax just a bit. Thank god. There was no effort to remove it as he continued on, and no effort to step away from him. “Y’said something about a smoothie, yeah?”

His grin was probably a bit too big in regards to a smoothie but he hoped like hell that she would join him at the little tables they had set up. They were in the reception area, a bit public for his taste but considering what had happened last night he figured that was a better option than the break room. It was a delicate thing and he needed to go about it carefully. He really, really didn’t want to muck it up because his dick got ahead of his brain.

Although, she did look spectacular today, if he could say that.

“Yes! I was going to grab one too. What kind would you like?” One of the duties of the front desk people was to man the smoothie bar when needed. It wasn’t super demanding and the recipes were written out in a binder-

Harry would know because he’s had to do it before too- but she seemed to enjoy making them the times she’s done his. “I’m going for the Strawberry Sunrise and some energy boost.” Her hand squeezed his wrist before it was removed and she glided behind the bar, ponytail swaying as she did so.

“S’a good choice. Simple and effective.” He nodded in approval. “Think M’gonna go for… the chocolate peanut butter, if that’s alright?” His fingers drummed on the surface of the counter, slightly nervous habits showing when she was around. It was difficult to think. Even if he was this charming, charismatic, outgoing guy- he still got a bit flustered when talking to a pretty girl who was suspiciously angelic in looks and in appearance.

“Of course it’s okay.” Her laugh echoed in his ears. “I told you, it’s my way of saying thank you. Now sit and look pretty while I finish these.”

Harry was glad her back was turned because his face was most definitely flushed. Did she call him pretty? It seemed so. The man definitely didn’t go to the gym looking like a slob, but he had much better days outside of it. He liked to play around in fashion and the gym left little to experiment with unless he was okay with a sweat stain or ruining it. That’s why he wore cuter bandanas around his neck, or his stack of fabric bracelets that were meant to fall off. They were made of string and easily replaceable but they added color to his otherwise bland outfits he wore to keep from ruining his good outfits.

Apparently the last thing she had said was enough to keep him on his head until she finished, the large orange and white striped cup placed in front of him. “They’ve got to get rid of the styrofoam cups and do paper.”

Y/N sighed, looking at her own with a little frown. “I’ve suggested it but manager said we got to go through these before he’s gonna reorder. It’s only a few cents cheaper too, I was snooping on the order form.” She grumbled, making Harry smile. Y/N was known for her environmentalist tendencies and it only added to why he liked her. “Or, do like… have a bottle washing station and let us sell reusable cups with the gym logo and people can use those! Anything but these.” Leaning in closer to him, he caught her perfume as she let him in on a ‘secret’. “Plus, I fucking hate the sound of styrofoam. It makes my skin crawl. ASMR gone wrong.”

Harry swore he fell in love w little bit when she pulled back, laughing along with him as he nodded. She was fucking adorable and his hands itched to grab hold of that ponytail and keep her head still so he could kiss all over her face. Could you get cuteness aggression over another human?

“S’a great idea, actually.” He nodded, taking a sip with a hum. Y/N did the best smoothies. Shakes? He never was sure what to call them. “And you’re right. Styrofoam is awful for the environment and ears. I usually bring my water bottles every day but the amount of plastics we see here… S’a shame.”

“Exactly!” She slapped her hand on the counter. “It would only cost a little more to be more efficient. Do more water fountains so they don’t have to bring those plastic water bottles. Those are also on my hit list, when people crinkle those bottles…” her nose wrinkled in distaste, grabbing her cup and going around the counter. “Where did you want to sit, by the way?”

Harry’s heart grew three sizes, he thinks, when she was the one to initiate their time together. He’s been mulling it around in his mind, how to ask her to sit with him but apparently they were on the same page. “F’you want to sit out here we can, or we can go to the employee lounge. It’s your choice.”

“Do you mind if we go to the lounge? I had to talk to you about something, if you don’t mind.” It was then he could see her shifting nervously on her feet, cluing him in to something else. Was the guy still bothering her?

“Course we can. Lead the way.” He extended his hand, letting her lead as he tried to figure it out. Y/N was a somewhat nervous person by nature and he knew from watching her pick at her nails or bounce her leg, twirling her hair or rearranging pens often, but he didn’t like the idea of her nervous around him.

So when they sat down at one of the smaller tables in the empty lounge, he let his concerns be known. “Are you okay? You seem a little nervous.” He bumped his knee with hers, bringing the smoothie up to his mouth for a sip as he studied her face.

“Yeah! Yeah I just…” there was a pause, her nails dragging down the cup to make a pattern. “I couldn’t sleep very well last night. I felt really safe with you and I’m really grateful for your help- you’ve no idea. I was scared if end up in a ditch by the time anyone came in this morning but….”’her teeth worried her bottom lip. “I don’t want to have to rely on anyone else. You’re not always going to be here. And I know- I know the people here are very strong and bigger than me, most of them anyways- but I need a way to protect myself.” She took a big breath before the words rushed out. “Do you think you could help me with self defense? Even just a little bit, I can pay you or clean your house or something I just really….” Her frazzled expression broke his heart. “I don’t want to feel helpless again.”

He wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. That he would stay every night and walk her to his car, that he would take care of her but the truth remained that he couldn’t always guarantee that for her. Sometimes he had to leave early, sometimes he had to stay later than her and it was just not possible. What she asked was absolutely the right thing, but he hated that she felt helpless.

“Y/N.” He crooned. “Of course I will. It’s not even a question, I’d be more than willing to help you out.” She must really not know his crush on her if she couldn’t see how he was mentally tripping over himself at the idea of spending time with her. It would be a double win. She could help herself and he could spend time with her alone. “I want to say M’really fucking sorry that men are shit and that you even have to worry. If I’m here when you’re getting off of work, which I usually am, I’m more than happy to walk you to your car, but I understand.

I hate that you feel helpless. You’re a lot stronger than y’give yourself credit for.” His hand reached for the one laying on the table top, holding it a lot more confidently than he felt. She squeezed it back, though, so a win was a win! “We’ll have t’do it after hours, though, if that’s alright? Just stay a bit longer after work. My days are really full right now and I know you’re working most days here so it’ll have to be a weird schedule but you don’t need to pay me a cent. Let me do this for you for my own peace of mind, yeah?” His eyes searched her face, like he was trying to find an answer for a question he didn’t know. “Was worried out of my head last night about you.”’

Y/N seemed to visibly relax, a smile growing on her soft little lips and her entire energy moving to a warmer one. What he didn’t expect, though, was for her to throw herself into his lap for a big hug. Y/N had always been touchy, but he never thought he’d end up with a lap full of the prettiest girl he’d ever seen whispering her thanks as her face tucked into his neck.

God, he hoped he smelled decent.

His arm wrapped around her as he clumsily put his drink down in surprise, stroking her back as she squeezed him tight- and it was like a dream. Soft body against his own and engulfed in her scent? He was happy if she never moved from here. Unfortunately she did, peeling herself up and her beaming smile making him melt. “Thank you, thank you so fucking much. You can have anything you want in return. You don’t have to think of it kow but… I trust you the most here.” She admitted, clamoring back into her seat. “You’re the coolest, H. Thank you again. When can we start?”

Harry knew he was in trouble when he wanted to cancel the rest of his day and offer it to her. She’d sent him through a wind tunnel of wild thoughts and his body was still reeling from having her so close, but he had to try and hold it together.

“Why don’t we start tomorrow?” He offered. “But be prepared to work up a sweat.”

[vrisrezis]

Love triangle?? With atsv characters

Basically a love triangle between them, their spider alter ego and you … ?

Gwen has been longtime best friends with you and Peter for what feels like forever. Even after peters passing, you and Gwen remained close. Throughout the years, it was only natural for gwen to fall for you, her best friend. Peter had often encouraged her to try and go for it, but she never gave in to the temptation. Not when she has been lying to you for so long about who she really was. While her dad did often speak his mind on the mysterious spiderwoman and his doubts, you always seemed excited talking about her. It didn’t take long for her to find out you were not only a huge fan, but definitely had a bit of a crush.

This was amusing to her, obviously. But it also made her wonder if you felt nothing for the real her, and you just liked some alter ego of hers because she was cool and saved the day or whatever.

How you and spiderwoman met, was not under the best of circumstances. As you can imagine.

Growing up, you were always pretty tough. Fighting for and defending Peter against bullies, it was what drawn gwen to you right away. You always stood up for others, and perhaps in the real world it’d get you in more trouble, trying to help a defenses old man against some mugger, you nearly got real hurt in the process. Thankfully, your celebrity crush was there to web him up.

She remembers the look you gave her, you were so.. awestruck.

You never looked at her like that. Not the real her, anyway.

“Thank you spiderwoman!” you say with glee, a word she would almost never use to describe you.

She clears her throat, seeming off guard by the way you greeted her. Or perhaps she was caught off guard by how beautiful you looked in the moonlight. Is it hot outside or is it just her suit?

“Uh… uh…” she hesitates for a moment, before displaying faux confidence. She nods in understanding, “anytime, hopefully next time I’ll see you under better circumstances, cutie.” she says with a wink, before swinging away.

There’s practically hearts in your eyes, did spider woman… just flirt with you?!

Meanwhile, gwen is freaking the hell out over the fact she just said that. It’s certainly easier to flirt under the mask, she supposes.

You didn’t shut up about spiderwoman for the next week.

Miles was one of your best friends, had been for over a year now. Although this friendship, to many seemed newly found, to you both it felt like you knew eachother forever. You often ignored how Ganke never failed to mention that’s something people in love say about eachother.

Ganke was a close friend to the both of you. He was also very much aware of how miles was keeping this huge secret from you, and he often relayed to miles how he should just tell you already. Miles said no, everytime. So ganke had to resort to desperate measures, on one of your many hangouts with the two males.

“Hey, I’m curious.” Ganke starts, “what do you think of Spiderman?”

Miles nearly chokes, he looks wide eyed at ganke, as if ganke just killed a cat. Honestly, ganke is surprised miles hadn’t brought up Spiderman to you himself before, but honestly miles was terrified of what you actually thought, to the point he didn’t want it mentioned at all in front of you.

But your immediate grin makes miles almost audibly sigh.

“I think he’s awesome! Way cooler than the other one to be honest like wow have you seen that suit? Nice color.” Miles couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes lit up in excitement. How come he hasn’t heard you talk about spiderman before if you liked him so much?

“Hey, miles?”

“Huh?!” he yells, his voice becoming so high pitched it sounded like he was just hitting puberty, making you laugh.

“I- I mean.. yeah… what’s up?”

“Do you think he’s … cute?” you ask, rather curious what miles thinks of spiderman.

Ganke almost laughs at how wide miles eyes are, somehow even wider than before.

You would eventually have the chance to meet spiderman, which was not something miles would be happy about. A fight with a particularly … tough villain had caused much damage to the city. Miles swears, today he had to pull up at least 3 buses by his webs.

However, the bus you were in, as plain as day. He couldn’t see anyone but you, the other people in the bus being a blur to him.

He was scared, so so so scared. The moment you’re out and safe, he wants to hug you. He almost does, but he’s able to restrain himself once he feels gwen tug his arm, warning him of how weird that’d be.

He sighs, but he sees you smile at him, grateful. He’s blissfully unaware of how hot your cheeks are, seeing him in the flesh, in person.

You wonder if he’d be okay with signing an autograph.

Hobie was never the type for being subtle. He was blunt, but because of his casualness about it people do not take what he says seriously. He didn’t plan on making a strong effort to hide being spiderman from you. Because he trusts you, with his life in fact.

You two have fought together on many different occasions, way before he became spiderman. People didn’t like either of you, when you were young at least. Strong and unafraid, and like him, you often spoke your mind about things. Granted, you were a lot nicer about it but still. It’s something he definitely likes about you. To him, falling for you just felt natural. Like it was meant to happen. Like falling for you was second nature.

But over his time of becoming spiderman, he had … well… found out you had a major crush on his alter ego. You did not shut up about how “babygirl” he was. And while this was amusing at first, it annoyed him a little. Did that mean you weren’t interested in him, as hobie, romantically? And if you did find out who he really was, would you still like spiderman? Or would it ruin the imagination for you? And if you did, would it only be because he’s spiderman?

A lot of questions circle his mind, a lot of worry and it isn’t like him. He really hates it. Only you can manage to do that to him.

Eventually, the two of you do end up meeting.

You were known for being a fighter, laws or not, you didn’t care, maybe a bit headstrong in your beliefs. Maybe you got too caught up in things, as you often did. Difference was, hobie was not there to back you up. As he often was.

Not this time though, as apparently Hobie had some unfinished business to deal with. You had no idea what that meant, but you trusted hobie enough that he wouldn’t go off doing something stupid without you.

You were not hobie however, and did something stupid without him.

While yes, the guy had harassed you first and you had every right to be angry with him, you probably shouldn’t have provoked such a big and muscular looking guy. There’s no way you could take him in a fight, but you could always try.

Before you even had the gall to fight this guy, before he can even pull the first punch, webs are shot his way. You gasp in surprise, turning behind you to see the one and only.

His movements are quick, and honestly, spiderman struggles for a little.

If even he struggled during that fight, you didn’t stand a chance. But you’re too busy absolutely fangirl/boy/theythem’ing to even care.

Once everything was said and done, Spiderman turned around to take a look at you. He was relieved you weren’t banged up or anything, though you couldn’t tell. “You aight?” he asked, and typically he was so cool and collected, but around you he had no idea how he should be acting. Thoughts from before still clouding his mind:

He lets them go for a moment upon your excited squeal and has to hold himself back from laughing.

Pavitr mentioned spiderman quite a bit, and very early on when he first became the masked vigilante. He was quick to gauge your opinions, because in his mind you’re thoughts and feelings matter the most to him.

He would quickly learn you loved the guy, so he proudly continued doing the whole superhero thing. However, as time went by he had seen your admiration for Spiderman develop into a crush. Only upon your first meeting with him, though. He couldn’t blame you, he supposed that in your eyes this guy saved your life from imminent peril. In his eyes, he was just doing something that was common sense. Saving you while you were trapped in that bus was not something he needed to think twice about.

And he certainly didn’t think twice about hugging you, either. Despite you two not really being acquainted with one another. He was quick to come to his senses, about to pull away, but you held on. And he realized you needed this hug as much as he did. He combs his fingers through your hair, as if second nature. Just like he normally did, and he was the only one that ever did that. You didn’t seem to catch on in that state, but little did he know how grateful you were towards him. He could only imagine, but it was a fraction to how you truly felt.

“Thank you, spiderman.” You say with such softness in your voice, he’s never heard it from you before.

And from that point on, he did not stop hearing you gush about the arachnid. While he often laughed this off, he wondered if that meant things would be weird between you two if he told you the truth.

[lovelynim]

TickleTober2024/Day 22 - Cheating

Genshin Impact - Zhongli x Tartaglia

‘A shard of a Foul Legacy’.

That’s the item Aether asked Zhongli to bring back this time. And, with all honesty, it wasn’t that much of a bad request. Zhongli was aware of how much Tartaglia liked to fight and spar, but he couldn’t really bear the thought of hurting his beloved.

Thankfully, for this week, he came up with a different strategy. One that didn’t require violence or force - maybe just a bit.

Tartaglia didn’t really seem to be fond of it, probably preferring the regular fights a million times over this method, but Zhongli could take the criticism. He would manage to sleep with ease at the end of the day, knowing he didn’t hurt anything but Tartaglia’s enormous ego and pride.

“X-Xiangsheheng!” Tartaglia giggled in panic, his hands clenched into fists and his feet kicking behind Zhongli’s back. He aimed for a punch or two, a slap or even for a burst of Hydro energy, but nothing seemed to work. It was like hitting a wall, an unmovable boulder. “This ihihis cheheheating!”

“Are you going to hand over what I asked you?” Zhongli replied calmly, smirking as Tartaglia’s fists banged into his arms and shoulders. The only answer he got for his question was more frantic laughter and Tartaglia’s head shaking left and right. “Very well.”

Instead of clashing their weapons, Zhongli decided to use one of Tartaglia’s so-called “weaknesses”.

The first time he opted for this strategy was two weeks ago. He simply walked into their usual arena and, instead of bearing his spear, his hands were bare. After tackling Tartaglia down to the ground, the harbinger was surprised when skillful fingers tickled and abused the sensitivity of that body Zhongli knew so well.

It took him around a couple minutes of tickling before Tartaglia was ‘defeated’ and agreed to hand over the materials.

The second time, however, Tartaglia was more stubborn. Zhongli had to tickle him for almost half an hour before he finally surrendered, even stripping Tartaglia from some of his clothes like his shirt and boots. By the time they were done, Tartaglia noticed Zhongli wasn’t merely joking and, actually, was using this as a strategy to fight him instead of his strength.

He didn’t like that. But Zhongli didn’t really care - he refused to fight Tartaglia.

So, aware of that, when Tartaglia saw Zhongli walking into the arena this week, flashbacks of their previous “fights” flashed before his eyes and his first instinct was to run. If Zhongli didn’t catch him, he couldn’t tickle him.

However, after a good and long chase, here Tartaglia was. Trapped under Zhongli’s weight and having his torso mercilessly tickled by him.

“I waHAHAhant a fahahair fight!!” Tartaglia whined, trying to sound annoyed while laughter continued to pour off his lips. “This ihihis huhuhymiliahahting, xiahahangsheheng!!”

“Then hand over the materials and end it, Ajax,” Zhongli scolded, almost making it sound like it was Tartaglia’s fault.

“Nehehever!! Yohohou- you ahahare a cheheheater!!”

“Suit yourself,” Zhongli huffed, deciding to take things up a notch. He was going to go back with those materials, Tartaglia liked it or not.

A/N: Another pairing that didn't get my attention in a hot minute, but I still cherish them.

I may as well say that I'm aiming for a really special audience with this one prompt and I hope they see it soon, heh

[cantwritethetword]

(2024) TickleTober Day 3: Fight, Flight, or Freeze - Triggering Instincts

Fic Descript - Steven is worried about how he would react if he got into a situation without Marc to fall back on, so Marc 'helps'.

~A/N  - First Moon Knight fic in a hot minute!

Bit of a short one this time around but I'm trying to let myself do short fics for tickletober in the hopes I can actually post most (if not all) of the days ^^

- Enoy! ~

Tag List: @fullsongphilosopher

Masterpost Link 

TickleTober Masterpost

As much of a whirlwind of emotions having an alter-ego assassin sharing his brain was, Steven's brain couldn't help but jump to an (albeit logical) end-of-the-world possibility just to freak himself out.

What would happen if, for some unknown reason, Marc couldn't take the body? And the suit couldn't be activated? And he didn't have any of his super-human powers?

What would happen if he got mugged, or attacked, or assaulted, and he was just regular old scaredy-cat Steven?

Thankfully, he knew just the man to ask. Marc would have the answers, of course he would.

But when he brought up his insecurity of how he would react in an actual situation while unsupported, and Marc offered to simulate the stress that would trigger his Fight, Flight, or Freeze instinct, he didn't expect the conversation to end up like this.

"Good to know you'd just roll over like a puppy dog." Marc grinned, digging his fingers into Steven's ribcage. "Kill them with cuteness huh?"

"SHUHUHUT UHUHUP MAHAHARC!" Steven squealed - the third one since Marc had started his attack.

The pair were a tangled mess. Steven was half on his side, with Marc kneeling on either side of Steven's right leg (his left was free, but at this point was uselessly pushing against the floor next to Marc to try and get away). Steven's hands attempted to grab at Marc's but that effort proved fruitless very quickly.

"THIHIS IHIHSN'T FAHAHAIR!"

"I thought you wanted unfair?" Marc continued with a smirk. "No rules in a street fight bud."

Steven was curling tighter and tighter around his assailant's hands with each passing second, his energy seeping through his fingers leaving him defenseless. "MAHAHAHARC PLEHEHEASE! I'M GOHOHONNA DIHIHIE!"

Marc rolled his eyes at his counterpart's dramatics, but slowed his fingers to a crawl before sliding them out from Steven's hold.

As the poor Englishman lay panting on the floor, Marc ruffled his hair. "You'll be fine. You're a capable guy."

It was Steven's turn to roll his eyes. "After all that, you'd still say I'm 'capable'?"

"Well," Marc laughed a little. "Either way, you're stuck with me. So you don't have to worry."

Steven smiled.

"Well, aside from worrying about this." Marc added, before jumping on top of Steven and bringing the poor man to hysterics all over again.

[indzae-mayumi]

The Nightly Hair Care

(Blue Lock fanfic, some characters only. "Blue Lock" is by Kaneshiro Muneyuki, illustrated by Nomura Yusuke)

"Eh?" Anri complained when she looked at some requests from her computer. She and Ego had already started their day.

When she looked at the skinny, nourishment-deprived recruit aka her boss, she saw he was already busy slurping his yakisoba with mayonnaise.

"Erm.... Ego-san... The guys at Building 5 are requesting for conditioner again," Anri said.

But Ego only waved his hand, which was holding a pair of chopsticks. He could not be bothered, not when he was enjoying his breakfast. Anri became livid, but kept her cool. After all, she had to put up with all of Ego's ridiculousness (unrelated to soccer) since she handpicked him to spearhead a project to help Japan win the World Cup. She could do this.

"What I'm trying to say is, it's like someone is using the conditioners up twice a day, and they have to keep requesting for them twice a day too," Anri said.

"Anri-chan," Ego said after swallowing his food. "Let them be. I am not at all interested in how they do their self-care. What I do care are their results and their stats."

Anri did not want to argue any further. Yes, Ego was all about the numbers, but finances are all about the numbers too. You gotta spend to buy conditioner for these guys, you know.

She spent the rest of the day forgetting about the "conditioner" issue.

That night, as she settled to sleep, she did not bother checking her computer, knowing that tomorrow, she would have to read the same requests again and inform the personnel to refill the supplies of the boys.

****

In the shower room of some random team in Blue Lock...

Aryu was the last to take a bath. He always wanted to take his time. Thankfully, all his other teammates had already settled for bed. Being last and alone meant that he could abuse the amount of shampoo and conditioner in the bathroom. And of course, the body wash, since he wanted to smell so good before he goes to sleep.

After all, he was osha, and he wanted to smell and look osha even when he sleeps.

He suddenly missed the bathtub in the bathroom of his room at home. As a rich kid, he luxuriously would settle at the bath tub with his phone and drinks while thinking about his many dates the weekend before.

As no one was inside the bathroom, and the hallway was long (to accommodate many bathers), he thought it might do him good to make the most of his time at Blue Lock. Besides, he was still dry, so might as well fool around in the bathroom for a bit.

He made the bathroom hall his fashion runway.

In his birthday suit, Aryu strutted along the long halls of the bathroom, posing some osha poses as he went. He leaned on the wall at one point, held on to the shower handle of another, and flipped his hair as he passed by the mirror. Oh, how he adored himself too much!

"Just look at that man on the mirror," he said to himself out loud. "So osha~ And I am the most osha here in my team. And in the whole building."

He could already imagine the number of guys who would get intimidated by his looks and his skills, for by looks alone, they were just mere mortals, while he was a model among them all. He remembered the number of modelling offers he got, but dropped them all when he received an invitation from JFU. He loved fashion, but he loved soccer more.

He continued strutting towards the end of the bathroom, and almost slipped. But he, the osha that he was, was able to gain back his poise and continued walking along his "Blue Lock runway."

"Ah, time for my bath," he said as he settled by the dispensers.

He rinsed himself well to get rid of all the sweat. Then, he took a lavish amount of the body wash and murmured some "commercial taglines" that a voiceover would be saying if he were the model of a body wash.

"Ah, I am such a tensai for thinking this way," he said as he laughed to himself. "But imagine me, the greatest striker in the world, also becoming a commercial model. For sure, women will drool over me for my lean figure and for my osha hair. That would be an osha future for me."

Next, he gathered shampoo into a lather and put on some helping on his hair. Again, like with the body wash, he concocted some commercial taglines again, with him as a shampoo commercial model.

Finally, when he went to the conditioner, he thought that he could probably empty the contents of the dispenser tonight. After all, with an osha long hair, he needed his hair to be very nourished and nice, so that when he would jump in the soccer field to "kick" the ball with his chest, his lustrous hair would flip so nicely on air. He could already imagine the sound of chimes and the sparkles around him, and the slow-mo of the moment when he would do that. A still shot of it would look perfect as a magazine centerfold, a scene from a movie trailer, or a full page straight out of a shojo manga (where the manga female lead will see him in all his sparkling aura when he would play soccer).

"I guess I might as well have to request for conditioner again," he thought as he lavishly took his sweet time bathing that night.

After changing into his night clothes, he strutted along the corridor to the monitor room with a towel on his hair and his hair dryer. He would look at the previous footages while preparing himself glamorously before sleep. And oh, to request for some conditioner too. It felt so good to make the halls of Blue Lock his fashion runway that would showcase his osha.

He sat comfortably on the chair facing the screens when he went inside the monitor room. As he started to take off the towel from his hair and started blow-drying, he idly watched the next opponent's footages from the other day. They would be having a match the next day, and he was multi-tasking. He needed to be in best condition to tackle his team's next opponents. As he watched each player one by one, he made some mental notes on what he would do if he were to be marked one-on-one by any of the men in the field.

"Oh well, whatever I do, I will always do it the osha way, and my opponent will look like a peasant next to me," he thought as he laughed impishly in osha style. "I'll finish this and deal with the conditioner later."

****

In the Team V bathroom, Reo, Nagi, and Zantetsu were took a bath for the night.

"Reo, can I just wash my body, dry it, wear my sleep clothes, and go to sleep?" Nagi drawled in his usual sleepy voice.

"Dame," Reo admonished him playfully. "I don't want you smelling sweaty at bedtime. You will look dirty too."

"Why are you babying him?" Zantetsu told Reo. "He's a grown-up teenage boy, for crying out loud."

"But I want to take care of him, you see?"

"Is he your master?" Zantetsu asked the purple-haired guy.

"Oh yes, he is, and he is also my treasure," Reo said proudly, heart growing ever fonder for the taller white-haired boy.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, Born-With-The-Golden-Spoon," Zantetsu said as he started shampooing his hair. "You probably have a household help cleaning your room, and here you are, head over heels to be of service for Nagi."

"But it's my pleasure to serve him," Reo said as he started shampooing Nagi's hair. The white-haired boy, meanwhile, was scrubbing himself dutifully with his sponge filled with the body wash.

"But what is a golden spoon, by the way?" Zantetsu asked.

"Golden spoon is just a term for great affluence, you fool," Reo said.

"Baka Zantetsu," Nagi murmured.

"Must be nice being in your place," Zantetsu told Reo.

Nagi washed his whole body and his hair clean. After he was totally rinsed off, Reo asked if he wanted conditioner for his hair.

"You need it so, Nagi," Reo said. "Your hair is totally dry."

By then, Zantetsu bid them good night, since he finished bathing already. He could not be bothered anymore by Reo taking care of Nagi to the extreme, even bathing. Seriously, Nagi should pay Reo his salary.

"Reo, since you are rich, can we go to a hair salon next time too?" Nagi asked.

"Oh sure! I would love to take you there!" Reo said as he pumped some conditioner in his palm. He had Nagi bow and settle his head on the wall so he could reach up to the taller boy's head to give his friend's hair some loving conditioning.

"Do rich kids always have good hair too?"

"What do you mean?" Reo asked in surprise. "Have you seen all our other classmates? They are rich too. Of course, they will have pretty hair."

"I am not rich," Nagi said, though Reo would have to disagree. Kids enrolled in their prep school are affluent to some extent. It's just Reo who was of another level.

Soon, Nagi was snoring while leaning his head on the bathroom wall. Reo's fingers on his hair was making him feel so good. He really was one lazy, lazy boy who would rather have someone condition his hair like this. Or if he was feeling extremely lazy, he wish he could just zip his belly open for Reo to bring his empty stomach to the canteen to fill it with food before bringing the full stomach back to the room for Nagi to attach to his body.

"Reo, can I put some conditioner on my body too?" Nagi asked.

Reo was taken aback. "What for? You already slathered yourself with body wash earlier."

"I don't want to put on lotion after bathing because it's a hassle," Nagi said before yawning. "My body has hair just like my head. So I need conditioner too. Might as well put it on me while I am naked."

Reo laughed. "Sou ka? Well, might as well take advantage of the bathing supplies here, I guess."

Reo took out the conditioner dispenser and stood in front of Nagi, who opened his palms. Reo pumped out some, with Nagi complaining that Reo was being stingy with the conditioner. The purple-haired guy just laughed, totally amused at his treasure. Finally, once Nagi was contented, he slapped some conditioner on his body, with Reo helping him getting some on his back.

As the two were busy with their conditioner, another teammate, Midorikawa, saw them wasting conditioner.

"Hey! Leave some for me!" he growled.

"Gomen," Nagi remarked before leaning his head on the wall to start rinsing.

Midorikawa took his place beside Reo and started rinsing. He was hoping that there would still be bathing supplies that he could use tonight. Otherwise, he would have to ask for more supplies like what he did for two nights already.

Nagi and Reo finished bathing and headed to the locker room to change for the night. Unfortunately for Midorikawa, by the time he pumped some shampoo on his palm, the dispenser was empty. He took the empty container and threw it on the floor in anger.

"Nandato?!?" he screamed angrily. He would probably just use the body wash to shampoo his hair for the meantime.

While changing, Nagi and Reo decided to watch some footages of the next match that they would be having. Reo decided to bring along the hair dryer so he could dry his hair and Nagi's too, though he knew Nagi was beyond hope when it came to ordinary diligence.

Inside the monitor room, the two sat together in silence. To Reo, it felt like a movie date sans the snacks. He dried his hair first while Nagi attentively watched the movements of the people on screen. After his hair dried, he offered to dry Nagi's hair.

"Like to lie on my lap?"

Nagi obliged without answering.

"Don't you sleep on me, Nagi," Reo told him. "We will still be discussing the footage and strategies."

"Haiiii," Nagi drawled before yawning.

Reo's fingers on his scalp felt good, Nagi thought as he closed his eyes. The warm air from the blow-dryer was also an incentive for sleeping. He did not bother to care about the footage on screen anymore. He was already too sleepy to even bathe, but he only relented to come with Reo because it's Reo asking him to. Like the good boy he always had been.

Reo was still attentive in watching the screen while drying Nagi's hair, but he soon realized that his friend had fallen asleep.

"Ah, what do I do? I shall piggyback him again," he sighed with a smile. It had mostly been like this. "What a lazy child."

Reo turned off the blow dryer and ran his fingers through Nagi's hair and scalp. He lit up a smile while looking at the serene face of the sleeping boy on his lap. Nagi had really nice hair (on top of being cute). He just needed to keep it up and not be lazy about it. It was so smooth and silky despite the type of conditioner used.

"What brand shall I buy for him once I win here in Blue Lock?" he asked himself.

He was already daydreaming about the type of treatment Nagi and he should avail of in his okaa-san's favorite salon. As someone who sometimes appeared at the sidelines during his otoo-san's press conferences, he knew what was needed as the son of the super rich. Though he wanted everyone at Blue Lock to refer to him by his first name rather than be associated with his family name (because everyone at Blue Lock knew who his family was), Reo still knew he always had to look good. He knew it was his responsibility to be so. So he knew what needed to be done. As for Nagi, Reo was willing to spend that much fortune too if it meant making Nagi look good. If he would not win here at Blue Lock, at least, he could make it second place, with Nagi as the last man standing. After all, they vowed to win the World Cup together. And it meant that, in front of the media, they should look extremely presentable.

****

Most of the guys from Team Z, except for Bachira, hurried up taking a bath that evening after dinner. The master dribbler took his time because he enjoyed the warmth of the shower water when he heard a familiar voice calling out to him.

"Finish up, Bachira. The princess will be taking a bath now," it seemed like Igaguri.

"Haiii," the happy bee smiled as he finished his shower.

He looked at the bottle of conditioner and wondered why it always seemed to be full. Yes, he used the body wash a lot, and the shampoo too, but he could not be bothered much with conditioning his hair. He knew that a lot of the guys at Team Z did not bother with it that much too. Igaguri, with his buzz cut, only ever used the body wash to wash everything, including his head.

"Ah, must be the princess, heehee," he thought as he pulled out his towel to dry himself, and walked out of the showers in his birthday suit.

As he was about to walk out of the bathroom, he met Kunigami and Chigiri, who were about to walk in.

"Are you taking a bath together again?" Bachira asked.

"Yes, why?" Kunigami asked nonchalantly.

Bachira smiled, "Can we all try to take a bath as a team too?"

"It's too crowded," Chigiri complained. "I know you guys make a fuss about me and my hair care. It's only this hero here who is patient with me."

"Can you put on some damn clothes before you go to the dorm?" Kunigami asked.

"But I like it this way," Bachira said before going away happily.

The two friends started their nightly bath. Kunigami noticed that Chigiri was extremely generous with himself when it came to the shampoo and conditioner (and with the body wash too).

"I didn't mean to ask, but you seem to be consuming the conditioner up almost every day," Kunigami told the vain man.

"I could do better, if it were up to me," Chigiri boasted. "Their conditioner is a weak version of the one nee-chan and I use. And I love my hair. Besides, I can use as much as I want since I am not paying for this."

Kunigami knew that. Anytime, any of the contenders at Blue Lock could get eliminated. Might was well use the amenities to the contentment of one's heart. And Chigiri was doing just that, but abusing it to some degree.

"You want some conditioner, Hero?" Chigiri asked in a playful voice.

"I really don't do much of it, but okay, Princess," Kunigami said with a smile.

After all, whenever they bathed together, Chigiri would often put on the conditioner for him, and Kunigami loved how the other guy massaged his scalp. It seemed like a trance that could help him sleep better every night.

After their shower, they went to the locker room to change into their sweatshirt and sweatpants. And Chigiri still had to dry his hair before he goes to sleep. He took his hair dryer from his locker so he could dry his hair in the dorm.

By the time they reached their dorm, Iemon and Gagamaru had started to prepare their own futons and blankets. Isagi told the others to reserve a spot for him next to Bachira, to which the happy bee told the others to reserve two spots near Isagi because he knew that the princess and the hero wanted to be next to each other at bedtime. While Nayuhara and Imamura, who just finished his skin care, were having a pillow fight with Igaguri, Chigiri and Kunigami settled near an electric outlet. From the background, Raichi raised his voice in anger because someone's smelly pillow was thrown to his face.

"Let me dry your hair for you," Kunigami offered.

"Wow, thanks. You're so thoughtful," Chigiri smiled as he handed his dryer to his friend.

As the others thrived in chaos before bedtime, the two had their own silent world. Chigiri hummed contentedly when he felt Kunigami's fingers brushing through his hair as his hair is being blow-dried. Kunigami could not help but fall in love with Chigiri's soft hair, which glided smoothly through his fingers. If Chigiri's hair felt this soft despite the quality of the conditioner used, he could imagine how softer it would be if the speedster used a conditioner of better quality.

"If your hair is as beautiful as your face, I bet your fashion outside of school could make any fashionistas out there cry with envy," Kunigami told him.

Chigiri bit his tongue, feeling his cheeks warm. Did Kunigami just call him beautiful? He swore, his insides felt warm too when Kunigami's fingers brushed against his nape.

"Th... thanks," Chigiri said as he tucked some bits of hair behind his ears. He seemed to love flirting with the ginger-haired nice guy. "Do you want me to dry your hair too?"

"Yes please," Kunigami replied. "After all, you always accompany me during gym time."

"Did this all just start after we traded food?" Chigiri asked, laughing lightly.

Kunigami's pensive response had Chigiri blushing again, "Maybe it did. Something in your eyes back then had me immediately say 'yes' to you."

The two continued their little domestic affair even as Iemon had been admonishing the pranksters for making a mess of the laid-out futons.

Meanwhile, Kuon, who took a bath last, complained as he pushed the pump of the conditioner hard, as there was only a small amount left. Not again! Did he have to ask for conditioner again? Just who among in Team Z drank conditioner for dinner? He seemed to be doing this for many nights now.

--end--

[gloomyluvr]

OPEN ARMS

in which y/n surprises miles with her latest project

fem!cosplayer!reader x 1610!miles morales

fluff

warnings!: veryyy inaccurate depiction of cosplayer!reader. reader doesn’t know miles is spiderman 😭 horrible ending sorryyy

based off this ask

a/n: hiiii. i’ve been meaning to put this out but never got to it sorry. umm sorry for not being active lately 😣 i have no excuses i just haven’t been active 💀 so sorry this took so long and to the person who requested it im so so sorry if its booty! but dw guys imma start being active again 😈

masterlist

“are you almost done?” miles groaned. he was always impatient, but it was worse when it came you. about an hour ago, you had texted miles to come to your place to show him your latest cosplay. 

miles knew of your interest, and he had always supported you. he complimented every one of your cosplays and always helped you take photos to post later. this time, he didn’t even know that you were working on a new cosplay! he felt a little betrayed since he loved going out with you looking for any supplies that you’d need for the costumes or wigs. 

“give me a minute! this spandex is a bit difficult to put on!” you yelled from your room. 

“spandex?” miles whispered to himself. now he was only more curious. and you were still taking your sweet ass time. in your room, you looked around on the floor looking for the red jordans spiderman sported (which thankfully, you had a pair of!)

“where the hell are they?” you grumbled to yourself. you sighed when you remembered you’d left them next to the couch where miles was sitting. 

“miles!” you yelled.

“yeah baby?” 

“can you get the shoes you bought me and bring them over here!” 

“uhh sure! where are they?”

“they should be right next to where you’re sitting!” miles looked around until he found the red shoes. he picked them up and left them by the door of your room.

“okay i left them by your door!”  

“thanks, love!” you waited until you heard the couch squeak, confirming that miles was no longer near your door. quickly (but not so swiftly) you got the shoes, hitting your hand against the door as you tried to pull the shoes towards you. you slammed the door shut, cursing yourself as you finally put on the last piece of your costume.

“close your eyes!!!” you yelled to your lover.

miles was giddy. he couldn’t wait to see what you had put together this time. he hadn’t seen you yet, but he already knew you looked great! with his tightly shut eyes, miles heard the door open followed by the sound of your footsteps that stopped in front of him. 

“open!”

miles looked up at you and very quickly noticed the familiar colors and design. it was his suit! 

“ta da!!!” you announced, posing with your hands out like spiderman does when he shoots his weird web thing. 

miles smiled widely, he couldn’t believe his eyes. not only did the suit look amazing on you and hug your curves in all the right places but it was incredibly accurate!

“baby, you look so good! the suit looks great!” miles held your hand and stood up, “do a lil’ spin for me. how did you get it to look like the real thing?” you did as he asked and giggled at his compliments. 

“his suit is so simple! also, you won’t believe how many photos there are of spiderman! it was just a little hard getting his logo right! it looks like it was spray painted on. i don't know though.” you rambled, and miles listened as he admired you. 

“what’s with the shoes? spiderman doesn’t wear shoes.” miles tried correcting you.

“yes he does! well, he used to! when he first started. they’re the exact same ones too!”

“you remember that? eww, you stalkerrr!” miles joked. 

you playfully rolled your eyes, “whateverrrr. you’re just jealous ‘cause i prefer spiderman over you.”

“you’re fake!” miles pouted and crossed his arms.

“noooo! i’m kidding! i love youuu!” you tried kissing miles but he turned his head away.

“go kiss your spider bae or whatever! he probably lays eggs or some shit.” miles slandered his alter ego. he uncrossed his arms, and dramatically (but gently) pushed you away.

“you’re my only bae, i swear!” you pleaded, attacking him with another hug. you wrapped your arms around him tightly. miles smiled and uncrossed his arms and reciprocated the hug. his hands traveled down to their resting place on your waist. you looked up at him only to find him already looking at you. his gentle brown eyes scanned over your face, admiring every small feature. you smiled before quickly looking away.

“don’t get shy on me now,” he said softly. you buried your face in his chest, embarrassed.

“then stop looking at me like that.” you murmured, even more embarrassed by how you still get so nervous around him. 

“i’m sorry, i can’t help it. not when my novia’s so pretty.” 

“oh my god, you’re so corny!” 

[sukirichi]

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 | 𝐍𝐀𝐎𝐘𝐀 𝐙𝐄𝐍’𝐈𝐍

— in which naoya zen’in feels an unfamiliar emotion when someone else looks at his wife and has to deal with it through other methods.

cw. smut, minors dni. dilf! naoya. possessive! naoya. breeding kink. face fucking. orgasm denial. pussy eating. rough sex. creampie. aftercare and fluff in the end bcos we love dilf! naoya

note. thank you for @starryshinigami45 for commissioning me! i enjoyed writing the fic a lot and this fueled my naoya brainrot again <33

It’s not always that your husband, Naoya Zen’in, can personally attend his son’s annual parent-teacher meeting. As the clan leader and a special grade one sorcerer, he has other, more pressing matters to attend on. His son understands this, and you never complained. Not once have you questioned his absence either in the knowledge Naoya rarely got any proper rest with how demanding his duty as a sorcerer is, but today would be different.

Your son, Naori, is already six and in first grade. Six years of his lovely son being here in this world and this would be his first parent-teacher meeting. And as the head representative of the mighty Zen’in Clan, Naoya showed up dressed to the nines in a custom-tailored suit, genuine Italian Ferragamo leather shoes, and dark shades resting atop his nose. He is every bit the image of a man who had it all in the palm of his hands. The man who fathers wished to be in their prime, the man that wives shamelessly stared at as he brushed his hair back—you could tell pride swelled his magnanimous ego.

After all, he was no stranger to his beauty.

Pampered at such a young age and trained diligently to whatever ‘perfection’ meant as an image to the Zen’in Clan, Naoya exudes elegance with every step. He emits jealousy from everybody he walks past—unsuspecting that he, too, would be subjected to such a vile, green emotion he wishes he would never experience. At a meeting, no less.

As soon as the parent-teacher meeting finished, the kids scrambled everywhere to play. Chaos would have erupted into the room if their watchful parents weren’t surveying their other move. Thankfully, Naori has always been behaved and was content quietly playing with his cars while he rested against his father’s leg, leaving you to discuss to Mr. Sato about Nari’s condition in school.

You would have loved to watch the cute father and son duo more if the teacher hadn’t hovered in front of you already.

“Your son is doing extremely well in school. He’s such a bright, young boy,” Mr. Sato compliments, clearly basking in the attention you direct towards him.

Mr. Sato... for simpler terms, never bothers to hide how he fancies you. Ever since the first day when you took Naori to school and he laid eyes on you, a day wouldn’t pass where he didn’t strike a conversation with you. And you, deferential as ever, have no valid reason to ignore him when he always makes your son the topic before it revolves back to you—and the constant curiosity on where your infamous husband is.

Although Naoya knew better you looked at no one else but him, and you were simply ridiculously polite to a fault, you could hear him scoff from the background.

Your husband’s hot stare burned holes at the back of your head.

“Oh, thank you. I’m glad to hear my son is doing well.”

“Well, I can see where his brilliance comes from. He has such a beautiful and attentive mother supporting him,” the man’s eyes darken in approval, tongue darting out to lick at his lips. “It’s always nice seeing you here, Mrs. Zen’in.”

“Mr. Zen’in is here, too,” a smooth, velvety voice cuts through the air. Naoya’s agile movements cut through the air until your husband stands next to you, his strong cologne washing over your senses like a comforting blanket despite his menacing stare. The man, who he soon learns is his son’s homeroom teacher, wears the look of horror. His gaze zeroes in the possessive hand resting at the small of your back. You’re unbothered by this, simply leaning into your husband’s familiar warmth that your scent nearly calms him down. Just by a little bit. He’ll try to act more civil for yours and your son’s sake. “Sato-sensei, was it?”

“Y-Yes, sir. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I...I didn’t think you’d ever come, you were always missing out on your son’s special events.”

“Naoya, this is Naori’s homeroom teacher. He’s been wanting to meet you for a while now.”

A handsome smile tugs his lips into a more genuine one at the sound of your voice. Sending you a soft glance, Naoya’s arm snakes around your waist and squeezes there. A blatant show of reminding this teacher that you were Naoya’s wife—not anyone else’s woman.

“I see. Now that I’ve met you, Sato-sensei, I’ll be switching my son to a different class. I don’t want him under the supervision of a man who doesn’t know that married women are not available for his taking. How unprofessional,” he snickers, tipping his head in the direction of the door before calling out for his son. “Let us go.”

Quickly saying goodbye to his friends, little Naori bounces up to his father’s leg and asks to be carried. Normally, Naoya wouldn’t have carried him. He thinks Naori should be a big boy by now, but deep down, he feels uneasy at the thought his son was growing up too fast and immediately bundled the boy in his arms.

“Daddy, is it true? Are you moving Naori to a different class?”

Brushing his son’s hair back, he nods. “Yes. Daddy wants the best teacher for you, and Sato-sensei isn’t good enough. Don’t worry, though, I’m sure you’ll make friends easily at your new class.”

“But Daddy...” pouting, Naori’s cheek rests on Naoya’s chest as he fights back tears. “I’m already happy with my classmates. ‘Don’t wanna go.”

Before he could open his mouth to speak, a gentle hand caressed his arm. You sit next to him and flutter your eyelashes prettily—perfectly aware that Naoya is much weaker than he let on. Sure, he thinks of himself highly, but he is too madly in love with you far more than he believes he was capable of. Sometimes he even thinks you must have put a curse on him for him to be this weak for a woman’s pleading gaze (his words, not yours.)

You just need to work your charm.

“Naoya, darling, can we at least talk about this? You can’t move Naori from a different class just like that. You have to consider his feelings, too. You know our son has a hard time adjusting to different environments and it’s already the middle of the school year.”

However, no matter how putty he is—no matter how much he was at the absolute mercy of your hands—he will never show you that. He is Naoya Zen’in. Strong, dominant, and a powerful man who doesn’t bow to anyone. The most he could do is hear you out to keep his facade, when in reality, Naoya is rather compliant to your requests. Even more so with Naori’s pleas, but the little boy never asks for much.  

“Are you trying to change my mind so you can keep visiting that teacher?”

“What?” you frown, wondering what made him come to that conclusion when your shoulders sag at the realization. Your husband is jealous. It should’ve been obvious, but to be accused of such has you crossing your arms against your chest. “Is this what this is about?”

Naoya gives you a firm look. “We’ll talk later when we get home.”

The slight arch of his brow tells you otherwise. Not much words are spoken when you arrive home, little Naori swept away by the nannies upon seeing the sour expression on Naoya’s face, the deep scowl on his lips—lips that were now latched at the column of your neck as he rudely shoves you against a wall. His hand acts as cushion so you wouldn’t be hurt, and your breaths come out laboured. Whines of his name as you tug at his hair echo in the deadly silent Zen’in Estate who left you both at their own devices.

“You’re being such a brat, you know that?”

“Whatever do you mean by that?” you tease, only to have your smirk ripped away when Naoya unclasps your bra with one hand. Dress now ripped and the remains shoved under your tits. Tipping your head back, you let your husband ravage you as he pleases—smooth hands tweaking your erect nipples until you keen, his hot tongue dancing with yours in a fast, intense rhythm you knew he likes. His erection grazing at your thigh was proof of this.

You pull away from him as you breathe hard. “N-Not here, love, in the bedroom. People could see—”

Your words fall into deaf ears. “Let them see. Let them know you’re mine.”

“I already am yours—” Naoya presses a palm against your mouth. His eyes warned you to be quiet, meaning you were only allowed to moan, beg, call out for his name—anything else and you would be severely punished. Whether that means being on your knees until your jaw aches or your merciless husband pleasuring you into overstimulation, you’ve learned your lesson enough to know keeping these pretty lips shut was the best decision.

“See?” he smirks, “Not so hard to just stand there and be good, little slut, right?”

You nod, never once breaking eye contact as he pushes a finger in your mouth. Tongue greedily lapping at another digit. Eyes rolling at the back of your head as the remnants of your houndstooth Balmain dress are shredded. It’s a beautiful dress, too—one of your favourites—but you couldn’t care about the price when Naoya was leaving kisses everywhere. From your jaw, to your collar, the sides of your breasts, and your hips. His hands followed not long afterwards, squeezing the flesh of your ass when you felt teeth graze at your skin.

“I should mark you up,” he whispers breathily, slowly dropping down to his knees. His breath begins to hover at your pussy covered in lace. “Then I’ll make you strut around everywhere with these hickeys in sight—that should tell people you’re mine, yeah?”

“N-Naoya, don’t, please, we have dinner with your family too—”

He pushes a prodding finger against your walls, warm lips sucking on your pelvic bone. “Shh,” your husband coos like he isn’t knuckle deep into you right now. Your hands clutch at his hair being the only leverage you have for standing upright, legs shaking and a fist balled against your lips to keep the lewd sounds in. Heavens forbid anybody walk in on you right now.

“Just let me make you feel good, love. I’d fill you up so nice and get you pregnant again, hm? How’s that sound? You’d make a happy daddy of two, beautiful children.”

You could barely think straight.

Your legs spread apart by themselves as your knees grow weaker by each minute. Meanwhile, your husband stares at you innocently from below—grinning the lower his lips travels and tongue peeking out to experimentally lick at your clit. One flick of his tongue, and you’re done for.

Adding another finger, Naoya curls them in and out of you. His fingers are longer and thicker than yours that he reaches places in you that only he could find. He’s memorized your body enough to know which spot to press harder on, which pace you like—which is always hard and fast before he scissors you in a sensual manner. When your chest falls forward and droplets of sweat fall on his hand, Naoya pumps in faster out of you. The pornographic sounds of slick dripping all over his hand are like music to your ears. His loud, greedy slurping like he’s a starved man desperate for pussy twists your insides for an impending orgasm.

You squeezed tight around him, calling out his name, begging for a release.

And just as you’re about to cum, your husband pulls his fingers out. Leaving you shaking by yourself as your fully-dressed husband stands back to his full height, his face drenched into your juices stretching into a grin.

“I... Naoya, why...?”

You couldn’t even form coherent sentences anymore.

“What?” licking off his fingers one by one, he chuckles. “Did you think I would let you cum that easily? After you flirted with that man? Who knows what could’ve happened if I wasn’t there. the way he looked at you was shameless.”

“I don’t even like him, Naoya. You’re my husband, and...and—”

“And?”

He knows where this is going. You’re always like this—riling him up like you’re begging to be punished and teased to countless failed orgasms. It isn’t his fault anymore if you cry while you lay on his lap, his large hands leaving marks on your ass because you just wouldn’t behave. Naoya is an impatient man, and you are cunning to always push his buttons but you were all bark, no bite. The moment he has his fingers, tongue, or his fat cock shoved in you in whatever hole he likes, you lose all will to fight back.

Go ahead, his smile taunts you, tell me what you want. Sometimes, if he feels generous enough, he might just grant whatever his pretty wife wishes for.

“And... you’re the only one I want.”

Looping his damp fingers around his tie, you watch as your husband stretches the muscles of his neck and throws his tie to the ground. “What exactly do you want from me, hm?” His belt follows next. Breathing hard, you lean against the wall to brace yourself while Naoya cups his hardness through his pants. It pokes against the fabric like a third leg. Inviting you to touch it, to touch him, to envelope his cock in the warmth of your mouth or the softness of your walls while he fuckes you into tomorrow. “You want this, wife? Want my cock? Tell me, because you’re drooling right in front of me and I need you to speak up with your big girl words.”

“Yes, please.”

“Yes, please, what?”

“Yes, Daddy. I want your cock so bad.”

“Good,” he pulled out his cock from its confines. Despite being married for years, you are still be in awe at his sheer length and size—the thickness enough for it to hurt if you weren’t prepped enough, and long enough that the tip of his cock kisses your most intimate parts and makes love to you in ways the wind was knocked out of your lungs. “Get on your knees, then. Say sorry that you made me jealous. I bet that you were even doing it for purpose to get my attention, yeah?”

Denying his allegations, you scramble to your knees obediently. Humiliation washing over you as your husband snickers above you, using his hand to tap his cock and spread the pre-cum all over your face.

“Wanna write my name on this pretty face,” he muses out loud. A sadistic grin etched onto his face. “I’ll fuck your mouth so hard it will only remember how to scream my name.”

If there is one thing you love and hate at the same time about Naoya, it’s how he stops at nothing when he decides on a goal. So if he says he would fuck your mouth that hard, you need to prepare yourself for his virility.

Bracing yourself as you breathe through your nose and nails digging into his thigh, his cock pushed through your lips. A stain of red tattooed all over his base. Your eyes shut itself from the oncoming tears. His hands cradle the back of your skull as his knees bend, cock hitting the back of your throat and his groans resonating loud against the empty hall.

Naoya is so hell bent on proving his point that he keeps going even as you make gagging noises around him, your juices dripping onto the floor the more you witness the beauty of the man before you. How you are the one giving him so much pleasure his perfectly styled hair falls out of place. Lips curled into a sneer and his balls slapping harshly against your chin.

Never mind that you can barely breathe when your husband’s seconds away from reaching seventh heaven.

“Say you’re sorry. Say it.”

“Nghhr- suh-ree—”

“Ah, fuck!” Naoya pulls his cock out. Your hands immediately caress your neck, feeling it grow sore by the next minute that you fail to notice how your husband has grabbed you by the waist, pushing you down to a nearby table before pulling your ass close to his cock.

“Oh, yeah, just like that...”

Naoya slips inside easily thanks to your previous almost orgasm. He fucks hard into you that your arms damp with sweat keeps sliding across the table, uncaring that your nails left scratches across the surface. Naoya only cares about how you wiggle your ass to meet him thrust by thrust.

Whipping your head to stare at him with lidded eyes, Naoya’s movements grow hastier by the second, and how could he not? You look like a hot mess. Mouth hanging open and garbled moans falling from your lips because you couldn’t speak anymore from how good it felt, how thick his cock filled you up and your nipples achingly hard when your upper body drags along.

“F-Fuck, I’m going to make you pregnant again,” he claws against your hips, “Want you to give me another kid so bad. Your belly so swollen—you’ll be such a pretty mommy, hm? What do you think?”

“Yes, yes!”

“Can’t even speak right anymore?”

A harsh slap meets your booty.

Crying out, your tears form a small puddle on the table as Naoya chuckles breathlessly behind you. He sets a relentless pace until you turn limp before him, fucked out to a state where all you could focus on is the cock pounding in and out of you until a familiar coil tightens in your belly.

Reaching for the arms behind you, you whimper out his name—a sign you’re cumming and need his kisses. Albeit rolling his eyes like he hates it, your husband leans down and meets you for a sloppy open-mouthed kiss. It’s more tongue and teeth than lips actually moving against each other—Naoya groaning deep into his chest as he, too, grows dangerously close.

You can’t stop moaning about how good it feels. Asking him to go harder, faster, to cum inside you and make you a mommy.

Your promise of making him a daddy once again is all it took for Naoya to cum.

Teeth sinking into your shoulder to muffle his groans, your husband squeezed your ass. His thick, warm cum spilling inside you. Loads and spurts of it flow out even as he refuses to pull out. He stays there until his cock slowly softens—the kisses he spreads on your shoulder and hair just as tender before he replaces his cock with two fingers.

“Naoya, no more—”

“Just making sure it takes,” he reassures, massaging the sore flesh of your abused hips. Once satisfied, your husband runs a bath with you and takes your face into his hands, foreheads pressed against each other. “Was I too rough on you, love? I’ll give you a full body massage afterwards...”

“It’s okay. I enjoyed it, so you don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Hmm,” pecking your lips, Naoya releases a low chuckle. “I’m sorry I got jealous and took it out on you. I know you were loyal and would never do that. I was just... well, I love you so much. Hate it when someone else looks at you.”

You roll your eyes at him, but smile anyway. “Oh, please. You just wanted a reason to fuck me, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Maybe I did,” eyes glinting with mischief, your husband turns off the shower running and runs his soapy hands all over your body. The tension in the room spiking once more as he brushes his nose against your neck. “Perhaps...one more round to make sure I really become a daddy again?”

[celeste-clearwater-06]

hello. it is i. so! i was wondering if you could do a little ditty abt nail polish with the company and/or the fellowship? basically like modern girl in middle earth type stuff, and she realizes that she has nail polish on her which is something they totally don't have in middle earth. basically headcanons abt like how they would react to painted nails and which one of these mfs would let me paint their nails. cuz like - they dont know its just a "fem" thing here so no toxic masculinity. ty <3

OMFG I'M SO HYPED FOR THIS! I just picked a few random Tolkien characters that seem to have a lot of attention, so I hope you like this!!

Nail Polish (LOTR/THE HOBBIT X READER)

Frodo~

I feel like Frodo would be very skeptical at first

Because, come on, a girl falling into Middle Earth out of nowhere??

However, his interest is certainly peaked, seeing you twist the brush away from it's blue colored bottle as you smile down at it

"What's that, you've got there?"

"Oh, just some nail polish!"

He watches with curiosity as you perfectly decorate your nails with the periwinkle color

"How interesting..."

He may not want to have his nails painted at first, but has this deep fascination with how perfectly you can paint them without screwing up

Soon, he forgets all about the ring as you paint your nails, sitting cross-legged and starting with those huge blue eyes with interest

If he allows you to paint his nails, he would smile the whole time

I mean HIS TINY HANDS?!?!

What a bean 🥺

Tries his best not to chip the color when he leaves for Mordor with Sam

Gollum is actually really interested with his nails

"whAT IS IT prECI0us?!?1!1?"

But Frodo will swat his hands away, because "it's a gift from someone important."

The one thing that keeps him smiling along the way 😊

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Legolas

Elf prince is so interested!!

He thinks the spring green color looks so pretty in the bottle

He's obviously not used to most thing from your world

Asks politely;

"How do you use this?"

"...can I show you?"

So whenever the Fellowship stops for the night, he watches with amusement as your brows furrow and you stick your tongue out in concentration

Legolas sits very still, so it's easy for you to paint his nails

How does he keep them so clean?!

He's low-key obsessed with how satisfying it is...

wAIT...

Now HE wants to paint YOUR nails?

THE PRECISION...

He's so good at it!

Legolas is so patient and calm

He says it reminded him of making flower crowns I guess?

And he doesn't even mess up once 😳

THE MASTER NEEDS TEACHING, DAYUM-

He gets so happy with how the color matches him!

Forgets that you have to let it dry at first, so it gets a bit smudged when he draws his bow

Upset Legolas :(

But you fix it for him, and he's happy again!

CAN

NOT

STOP

LOOKING

He's amazed!!

And so proud!

Pretty Elf 🥰✨

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Pippin

Pippin is very confused, to say the least

He though it would be something relatively close to a nail filer

But once he sees the pastel yellow color, on your own fingers, he has to have some!!

WILL

NOT

SIT

STILL

While you're trying to paint his hands and feet (by request), he's telling you great tales of the shire, a throwing his limbs around to exaggerate his story

You've to clonked him on the head and scolded him quite a few times

For some reason, he's saying it tickles??

"It does! The brush is like feather!"

Painting his toes it a lot easier, seeing he can't really feel much on his feet

The color goes perfect with his green eyes 🥴

Also, let's not forget that Pip is the definition of "disaster-on-legs"

After the polish dries, it immediately chips, since he's busy causing trouble with merry or practicing his hand with Boromir

He really wants to paint your nails, and you let him do so...

Poor hobbit has zero clue with how this shit works 🤦‍♀️

He feels so bad about getting it all over your fingers, but you assure him it'll be fine and that it will eventually wash off in a few days

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Boromir

HE WANTS TO USE IT RIGHT AWAY-

Pink, as cliche as it sounds, suits him so well

He's just amazed!

Also, really likes the smell 🤔🤔

Is grinning like an idiot while you're painting his nails

"Such talent and patience you have!"

"Pfft, it's really nothing. Takes a bit of practice is all."

Afterward, is flashing his bright pink nails at everyone

"Look at Y/N's spectacular skill of hand!"

I think Boromir would have a habit of picking at the polish after it dries

But that's okay, he doesn't mind too much

It gives him more time to spend with you while you repaint them!!

He's afraid he'll screw up your nails if he tries to paint them, so he never offers

That's alright though, since you know he only means well 😊

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Thorin

Oh he's so regal

You were in Rivendell, digging through your purse, and suddenly

Tada!!

A deep navy blue bottle, probably about half empty was revealed

He was curious, but tried not to let it show, since that would damage his royal ego 🙄

"What is that?"

"Oh, just some nail polish. Wanna try some?"

Thorin would insist that you show him how it works first

And so, you did

He definitely admires the color

But defied any suggestion of you painting his own nails

That would be "un-kingly" 😤

Okay so maybe he lets you paint his pinky finger when nobody is around

But he smiles (a rare sight) while watching you paint your nails

And does give a somewhat compliment at your articulate handwork

"It looks exceptional as artwork."

"Erm... Thanks?"

He definitely thinks the color matches you beautiful skin tone 😌

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Kili ~

Prince Dumbass LOVES red

It reminds him of Tauriel 🥰

One night, you left your bag opened on the ground as you went off to get some food from Bombur, and Kili couldn't help but notice the glittering ruby bottle inside

He grabbed it, being the nosy prince he was, and examined its glow in the firelight

"What kind of jewel is this?"

"Oh hey, my nail polish!!"

Very confused

"Why does it smell so strange?"

Thankfully, being a dwarf, his fingernails are a bit bigger, so there's more room and it's easier to paint

He, like Pippin, has issues with sitting still and gets you really annoyed

"I swear to all things fluffy, if you don't sit still I will cut off all of that hair in your sleep-"

"😳"

He immediately smudges them, and then you have to paint them AGAIN

Once they FINALLY dry, he won't let anyone touch them

"Stop it, Fili! You'll damage them!"

He can't stop touching them, since it's so smooth!

The others tease him, but he doesn't mind, as long as they stay nice and clean

Turns into a whiny toddler the MINUTE they chip

"Y/nnn! I need you to repaint them!"

"I just painted them yESTERDAY-"

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Fili

A mix of Thorin and Kili when it comes down to it

Definitely prefers gold 😌✨

Sees you painting your nails one night in the library in Erebor

"What have you got there sagh (friend)?"

"Just some nail polish. Wanna try some?"

Once again, he wants to see what it does like Thorin

And you of course happily oblige

Admires the color greatly

He says it reminds him of the gold floors in his kingdom, and it makes you chuckle

Fili loves to have his nails painted, and especially with such a regal hue 💅😌

DAMN does it bring out those baby blues 🥴

After that, you stare at his hands a lot, proceeded by his flirtatious teasing

Shows up Kili's sparkly red polish with his "more extravagant" color

He is also very protective of his nails and tries his very best to keep them from chipping

You love watching him hold his weapons and spar with his pretty nails 😳

Even with his larger hands, made for forging and wielding huge swords and axes and smelting, he had an incredibly steady and gentle hand when it comes to this subject, so he's AMAZING at painting his and your nails

Fili insists that you have matching nails all the time, and it's a regular thing for you to hang out and talk about your day while you paint each others nails 🥺

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Thranduil

Have you MET this man?!

KING OF DIVAS 💅💅

At first, he's very weirded out

"What do you have in your hand, mellon (friend)?"

"Oh, just some nail polish."

"Interesting..."

Thranduil watches intently over your shoulder as you carefully decorate your nails with a glossy black polish, sitting directly next to his throne

"Do you want me to paint your nails?"

"Hm?"

He reluctantly agrees, placing his BEAUTIFUL hand in yours and stares down at your gentle talented work

He loves the color more than he cares to admit, and much like his son sits very still as you lead the brush over his clean nails

The elf king loves seeing your tongue stick out in concentration

You remind him that it'll need time to dry out

And as he says in his notoriously sassy voice;

"I thousand years is a mere blink in the life of an elf... I'm patient... I can wait."

Ofc, you just scoff at this and tell him it'll only take about five to ten minutes

He just nods and stares back down at them with admiration

Thranduil doesn't do much around his kingdom, except maybe get a bit drunk and direct orders to his guards, so it's no worry about him chipping or ruining his nails

I hope you liked this, just as much as I enjoyed writing it!! Have a lovely day, and don't forget that requests are open as always!! ❤❤😊

[lokiskitten]

Hello! i was wondering if you could write a loki fluff/smut where it's the reader's birthday and everyone completely forgets except for him. Thank you!

Loki Laufeyson | thoughtful behavior

Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

plot : right when you thought everyone in Asgard had managed to forget about your birthday, you decide to pay a visit to Loki down in the dungeons. Surprisingly enough, he ends up being the only one who remembers about your birthday. Now, is it nothing but a friendly behavior, or simply a trick in order to soften you up and escape?

warnings : none.

Even if it was meant to be the best, this day had officially managed to rise at the top of your worst days list. You had just turned eighteen, yet no one in this kingdom seemed to remember about your birthday. Not even your own friends. This rather humiliating situation easily led you to develop an upset and stupid behavior, and your feet were now leading you down the stairs which would take you to the dungeons. After Odin had forbidden for anyone to visit his youngest son, you hadn’t been able to see Loki in ages. And you missed him.

Arriving upon the glistening cells, your eyes were first to look around the intimidating surroundings, spotting a couple of creepy creatures which thankfully remained locked away behind the electric barrer which composed their cell. They seemed to be aware of what awaited for them if they ever dared to step too close to the transparent walls, which was probably the reason to why they refused to move any closer to your silhouette. Finally managing to get your eyes off the monsters, your head turned to your left, orbs now landing onto Loki’s familiar sight.

He hadn’t noticed your presence yet, which you couldn’t blame as his face was diverted down towards a seemingly interesting book. Bringing his finger up to his lips, Loki licked the tip of his digit before swiping to the next page. You now stood before his cell, and it didn’t take long for his senses to notice your presence. His head was first to move up, eyes then diverting towards your face through the transparent barrer which composed the wall of his cell. He didn’t seem any surprised, and in fact remained calmer and quieter than he’s ever been.

“Hey.” You spoke shyly, attempting to initiate conversation and sincerely hoping that he would accept to talk with you on such a tough day. Loki deciding to ignore you would’ve been the drop which would’ve managed to make the vase overflow. Closing his book, the demigod tilted his head and allowed a grin to appear on his lips. “Y/n? How... surprising.” He spoke on a sarcastic and uninterested tone, head turning back towards the wall as he pronounced those few words. You could tell that he was upset, and it disturbed your already troubled soul. Something you wouldn’t deny was that you hadn’t really made any efforts to visit him through the time he spent locked up down here.

“Loki, I’m sorry I couldn’t come to see you sooner. Your father is very tough, you know. How are you?” You asked after allowing a frustrated sigh to escape your lips, sincerely hoping he would put his attitude to the side and appreciate this moment you two were about to spend together. “I’m doing... good. As good as I could ever be.” He responded before getting up on his feet and walking to his bed. “Beyond the fact that I was locked up by my own father and deprived of the throne.” The tall man added nonchalantly as he allowed the book to fall down onto the bedside table. Face to his negativity your face dropped towards the ground, sigh escaping your trembling lips upon being face to face to the fact that he might have forgotten about your birthday too.

However, you were soon to jump to surrealistic conclusions. Upon sensing your sadness, Loki’s head briefly tilted towards yours, noticing the way you seemed to be pitifully staring at the ground. And just like that, the demigod remembered about today’s date- and that it was your birthday. Feeling embarrassed and uneasy face to your sorrow, the raven haired man remained silent though bit down on the inside of his cheek, blue eyes looking around as his brain attempted to find a way to make you feel better. He was soon to step closer to the transparent bay, upper body bending over slightly as a grin appeared on his face. He was attempting to make eye contact with you.

“Happy birthdayyyy.” Loki announced lowly, earning nothing from you but an ungrateful shrug. This sight made him frown, as if he was left unsatisfied about your lack of positive reaction. Thankfully, his magic was going to be handful regarding the platonic situation he now had to deal with. As you continued to stare at the floor or the wall, you began hearing irritating squeaks coming from your friend- which made you look up out of pure curiosity. He had his back turned towards you, and seemed to be working on something as you could notice that his arms and elbows moved at a rather fast and concentrated pace.

Suddenly, Loki turned around with one of his arms extended towards the outside, smile on his face as he could now present to you his made up gift. It was a mini Loki made out of rubber balloons, which adorned a smile on its face. And even if it lacked a lot of details, this rubber doll still looked like him and that mostly due to the undeniable features such as the green suit and it’s long black hair. “It’s a mini me! Now you can take me everywhere with you.” He spoke proudly, desperately waiting for a reaction coming from you. You felt amused and touched by this gesture, yet you couldn’t help but feel turned off by the fact that this present revolved around him, which only reflected Loki’s natural self-centered mind.

Upon earning nothing from you but a judgmental look, Loki’s smile dropped as the balloon doll popped within his palms. None of you flinched, and your head ended up diverting away from his silhouette again. Noticing that you were clearly not satisfied with his first present, Loki felt like giving up on your case due to his enormous ego. How dare she deny my gift? But after second thoughts, his heart managed to feel pain face to your sad self. It only took him a couple of seconds to find a new idea, something he knew you would truly enjoy. Without bothering to turn around, Loki began to use his magic in order to summon an object in his hands. It was first surrounded with grin mist, which progressively faded away as the object formed.

Your attention got caught by the sound of Loki’s spells, eyes diverting upwards and landing on the sight of the formatting object. Now, this had enhanced your curiosity and interest, and you were officially offering all of your attention to the working man. Within seconds, a beautiful music box appeared on top of Loki’s joint palms. It adorned his colors indeed- green and gold- yet its beauty managed to chase away any negative thoughts from your once saddened mind. You found yourself in awe face to this music box, and Loki felt like it was the perfect occasion to open it and allow the melody to play in your ears.

If you once thought that the box was pretty, it was nothing compared to the music it contained. Your heart began to race face to this romantic attention, cheeks heating up as you looked back up at Loki. “It’s.. beautiful.” You affirmed without a doubt, grin forming on your face. The demigod had just managed to make your day better by chasing away all of the irrelevant worries your mind had accumulated. Loki smiled back yet unexpectedly began to drag the music box back towards his stomach, soon clasping the opening close. You were left clueless face to this selfish and confusing gesture.

A frown formed on your face as you looked up at him. “what?..” you couldn’t seem to understand why he had suddenly decided to back away- and that with your present. A sigh escaped Loki’s lips as he looked down at the music box, his hand gripping tight onto the fragile material. He suddenly seemed embarrassed, saddened nearly. “I’m just sad I won’t be able to give it to you for now.” He explained, gasping anxiously before allowing his blue eyes to look up at you. You managed to understand his pain, and honestly felt touched face to how sincere he- for once- seemed to be.

“You keep it. When the day comes, I’ll be waiting, ready for you to return my gift.” You explained before allowing a smile to appear on your lips, in hopes that it would allow the man to feel better about the situation. However, even if Loki wouldn’t admit it, your visit had managed to brighten up his own day.

I hope you guys enjoyed this. Don’t hesitate to leave a request. Lots of love!💜

[folk-ever-lore]

long story short

chapter 1 -  i tried to pick my battles

Lady Noire grinned down from the rooftops. The city of Gotham didn’t know how much to fear her yet, as she hadn’t been around long enough for them to see her full potential, so they all were greatly apprehensive of her. Or at least those that had seen her so far were afraid of her, and she had barely shown them anything so far. And those that still didn’t cower before her? They would learn.

Currently, Lady Noire was an enigma to Gotham City.

No one knew her goals, and no one knew why she had randomly appeared one day. It infuriated Batman to no end, or at least that’s what she’d heard from the few rogues she’d become friendly with so far. AKA Selina had started ranting about how much Bruce was ranting about Lady Noire at one of their girls’ nights (yes, Harley had insisted that they be called that).

It wasn’t that she specifically wanted to be feared by the people of Gotham; although it did help her in her attempts to regain the lost miraculous that were all around the city. They were causing an imbalance in the city that made most of, if not all of, the crime and death occur, then she would happily accept this reputation that she’d somehow gained. 

The worst bit about the lost miraculous in Gotham was that some of the rogues had their hands on them, which unfortunately, made them more affected by the imbalance than other members of the population. Even if they’d innocently found the jewels, just being around lost miraculous corrupted them until they’d become the cruel people they were to this day. 

It wasn’t all of the rogues though, thankfully.

She jumped from rooftop to rooftop, the movements quick and elegant thanks to the help she got from Plagg’s miraculous. She headed closer towards the base of operations she was currently staking out. She wasn’t too fond of a bit of light stalking, but it got the job done so who was to complain. 

She dropped down onto the roof of the Penguin’s latest warehouse. He didn’t randomly buy the places, after all he liked to show off his money rather than spend it on things he couldn’t advertise. So when Marinette had found out about the place, she’d known that Lady Noire would be making a trip to visit.

She started to hear rumours - mainly spread by Penguin himself - that the old man had come across an ancient object of unimaginable power, and that certainly fit the description of a miraculous. As soon as she’d even heard the tiniest detail, Lady Noire had put nearly all her attention on the case. Only checking on a few more things other than the more and more concerning case with Penguin.

“Hey there,” said a voice, its owner hidden in the shadows, as she placed a camera that faced the main entrance to the warehouse. “Is the naughty little cat up to no good again?”

She laughed slightly, “You have no idea what I’m up to, pretty boy.”

“Thank you for the compliment. I didn’t know you could see my appearance when you’ve only heard my voice, might have to get that looked at next time I get upgrades to the suit,” he replied sarcastically, voice dripping with metaphorical poison. “But I’ll admit it. You’re right, I’m very pretty.”

“Glad I could boost your ego,” she said drily. “Now could you please leave me alone. I have a job to do.”

“While I’m sure you do, I’ll have to get you to finish this job another day. You see, I need to have access to this rooftop and every property that Penguin owns, and I can’t do that if you’re constantly all over them. Sorry.”

“No can do, Red,” she told him stubbornly. This was her rooftop. (Well technically it was the Penguin’s but she’d gotten there first.) “Finders keepers and all that. And this job is a bit time sensitive, so if you don’t mind, your case can take place after mine is done.”

“Not happening.”

“Well, it’s either that or we work together,” she murmured. It was the only alternative solution she’d come up with, after all, both of them needed the same resources and the same locations. It did, unfortunately, make sense. “And as much as I’d hate to be working with one of Batman’s many lackeys, I kind of desperately need to finish this job. And you refuse to wait.”

He shook his head, helmet looking a tiny bit ridiculous with the movement. “Not a chance.”

“Sorry, I didn’t release the so-called ‘Great Red Hood’ followed every single order the Bat gave him.”

“I don’t,” he tried arguing.

She smirked incredulously, “Doesn’t seem like it to me.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “We’ll work together.”

“Thank you,” she sneered. God. She wasn’t looking forward to working this case with the annoyance that was Red Hood. 

“This case, and this case only. I don’t work with criminals.”

She frowned, almost pouting at his words. “Hey. Isn’t that a bit rude. Weren’t you yourself at the top of the FBI’s most wanted list at one point?”

“Indeed I was,” he confirmed, “but I got cleared by the Justice League, so now my record is squeaky clean.”

“Well we can’t all be as lucky to have Batman as our father. Can we?”

He choked. Just slightly. Just a tiny bit. Well, more than a bit but no one had to know about that. “How do you know about that?”

“It’s obvious in how you all act,” she pointed out. “When I first came to this city I made sure to study all of you, and you just act like one big dysfunctional family that dresses like bats and fights crime together.”

“Well that’s not creepy at all,” Red Hood muttered under his breath. “I’ll meet you at the top of Wayne Industries this time tomorrow? Does that work for you?”

“Fine with me. Make sure to bring everything you have on the case,” she called after him after he’d already headed off. 

She only had one thing to say about Red Hood at that moment in time.

“Jackass.”

***

When she met him at the top of Wayne Industries the next night, she was a tiny bit surprised to find that he’d then taken her to one of his bases straight away. Or, at least, somewhere he said was one of his lesser used bases.She wasn’t sure if that was exactly true, not sure if she trusted him enough to believe that bullshit. 

But he said that they could share their research here without the risk of being overheard. Marinette supposed that made sense. 

“What have you got then?” Lady Noire asked as she dramatically dropped down into what was clearly his chair. It was big and spinny. She gave it a small bit of a turn to try it out, loud squeaking filled the room.

She was going to have a lot of fun with this. 

Red Hood, frowned and pulled over one of the spare chairs but didn’t say anything over her claim of the chair. 

“Well, I managed to find where Penguin was holding some missing Crime Alley kids,” he informed his new partner in a proud manner. “What have you achieved?”

“You really care about those poor kids, huh?”

“Of course I do. I used to be one of them and I know how much they suffer. If I don’t help them, then no one will.”

“Just because you don’t notice others helping, that doesn’t mean I don’t.”

“You? But I’ve never seen you there, and neither have the kids have reported seeing you either.”

“I have my ways.” Ways such as the combination of the fox miraculous and mouse miraculous to drop off food and supplies while using the fox’s illusions to make it look like a rare charity worker had dropped them off.

“Did these mysterious methods also get you the information on Penguin that you have yet to share?”

She huffed.

“I have information that details that he’s found an incredibly ancient object of enormous power,” she responded in an equally stuck up tone. “Is that good enough information for your little bat brain?”

“It’s excellent information, thank you. Do you have any ideas of what this object is or what it’s power could be?”

“I have no idea what it’s power could be,” she shrugged, “but that seems more of a ‘I’ll figure it out in the battle and win’ situation. I have experience with that.”

“Not so sure I believe you about that, Noire,” he shot back.

“I’m pretty sure I have more experience in this situation. Sorry sweetheart,” she said condescendingly. “Hate to disappoint.”

He snorted a bit, hidden by his overall laughter. “That’s bound to be false, kitten. You have no idea just how long I’ve been doing this for.”

She spun in the chair, inciting a wicked glare from the oh so fearsome Red Hood. It certainly seemed like he wasn’t very fond of the squeaky noise his own chair made. Interesting. “Well, I happen to think you don’t know how long I’ve been doing this for.”

“And how long is that kitty? Because from where I’m standing it seems like you came to Gotham to start a life of crime. No one had ever heard about you before now.”

“"You’re not standing,” she pointed out like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Newsflash, it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He stood, pushing his chair away with a scraping sound that went straight through her. “I’m standing now, and I still think that you were a random civilian before you came here that just so happened to get into an accident that unlocked her hidden meta abilities.”

Lady Noire chuckled at his words. He couldn’t be any more wrong than this. “God. This is hilarious. Keep going,” she got out between moments of laughter.

“Why should I?” He demanded, his body getting closer and closer to her each time she spun in the chair and didn’t end up in the same place she started. “You’re going to have to correct me anyway, so you should just tell me now.”

SQUEAK! SQUEAK! SQUEEEEEAK!

“Fine,” she muttered, spinning in the chair yet again much to Red Hood’s clear disgust. “I’ve been doing this since I was fourteen, and I used to be a very public figure.”

“How public?”

Lady Noire shrugged slightly, “I only had a couple films made about me.”

“Only? Who were you?”

Marinette grinned, because that smile was all Marinette, “You would never have heard of me. Your lot never did.”

“Us lot?” Red Hood asked, ever so curious about what she’d meant by that small comment. His lot? Who was his lot?

She waved it off. “Forget I said anything.” It’s not like the Justice League had ever acknowledged their existence anyway, the group of super heroes probably didn’t know that Paris had their own heroes.

SQUEAK!

She giggled as she spun in the chair yet again. 

Red Hood’s glare had reached new homicidal levels. While it had been frightening before, it was absolutely terrifying now. If she’d been an ordinary civilian she would have passed out right there and then. “Stop!” He commanded, grabbed hold of the chair and forced it still.

She wanted to groan and complain that he was being unfair, but she soon took another look into his eyes and decided otherwise.

“Alright, alright,” she muttered, holding her hands up in the arm as a motion of surrender. “I’ll stop.”

“Thank you,” he replied, with a grateful tone in his voice.

Yes. She’d stop. For Now.

[link to part 2]

[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Almost (c.e.)

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Word Count: ~5.9k

Summary: You and Chris were set up on a blind date by your mutual friends. Sparks flew, but you never heard from him again. Two years later, you come face-to-face with him once more for their friends wedding.

Warnings: Some angst, swearing, not much else

A/N: This is a mixture of the movie “Life as We Know It” (mmm Daddy Josh Duhamel 🤤), a dating experience I had, and one scene from One Tree Hill. Enjoy.

My Masterlist

                    Two years ago…

My heart is pounding all the way to my ears. My hands are shaking under the table. My knee bounces uncontrollably as I wait.

I knew this was a bad idea. Why did I let her convince me to do this?

“You haven’t had a boyfriend for as long as I’ve known you.” My best friend so pointedly mentioned when we were out to lunch last week.

 “What’s wrong with that?” I counter.

“I’ve known you for three and a half years.” She deadpans. Even without looking at her, I know she has her eyebrow raised at me and her lips are pursed.

“Your point?” I know she thinks my serious lack of companionship these past few years is wearing on me, but it’s been quite the opposite. Not being attached is freeing. I can do what I want when I want; I don’t have anyone to answer to. If I want to sleep until 3 on a Saturday, I’m going to do it. If I don’t want to socialize with anyone, I won’t. If I want to take a spontaneous road trip, I’m going to do it. My life is my own and that’s how I like it.

“I want my best friend to have someone to experience life with.”

My shoulders dropped, sighing in defeat. There was no way I was getting out of this conversation.

“I want you to be as happy as I am.” I see the love in her eyes as her mind goes to her boyfriend and their new relationship. They’ve only been together for a few months, but I know that this is it for her. She’s a smitten kitten and he is equally as infatuated with her. They’re sickeningly cute. “Which is why I think you need to meet one of his friends-”

“Lemme stop you right there,” I interrupt her, “I hate blind dates.”

“You’ve never been on one.”

“And there’s a reason for that.” She rolled her eyes at me. “They’re cliché, they’re awkward for both parties, and they never amount to anything, thus being a total waste of time.”

She sighed, “Ever the skeptic.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

“Regardless,” she continues, “I think you’ll really like this guy. He’s already expressed interest in you.”

Like that makes everything better. “Great so now I have to live up to his impossible expectations of me when I know absolutely nothing about him.” As if the idea of a blind date wasn’t bad enough, now it’s only a semi-blind date. There’s no doubt in my mind that she has hyped me up impossibly high, that’s what a best friend is for. However, when your confidence level is next to none and already skeptical of the pending meeting, there’s no way he’ll like who I am in reality.

“I can tell you anything you want to know about him.” She is bargaining with me. She really wants me to meet this guy. She wouldn’t be trying this hard if she didn’t believe we would hit it off.

“Well is he nice?” This was the only real question I had. If he isn’t kind then there’s really no future.

“Incredibly!” She continues to tell me of the many things he has done for a charity he started a few years ago and slowly but surely she was starting to convince me. If he was that generous then he has to have a good heart and therefore is a good man.

How bad could it be?

I check my phone, glancing at the time. Great, he’s late. That can’t be a good start.

Numerous reasons why popped into my head.

Reason one: he saw me and bolted.

Reason two: he got into an accident on the way here and he could be in the hospital.

Reason three: he changed his mind and decided to stand me up.

More and more played through my head as I sipped my drink. 

By the time I was on my second drink, I was convinced he wasn’t showing up. I knew this was a ridiculous idea. I knew I shouldn’t have done this. I never should have listened to her.

I chugged the rest of my drink followed by some water before standing up to leave some cash. I was slightly humiliated for actually thinking this would be any different than all of my expectations.

My shoulder rammed into another as I turned to leave.

“Oh my, God, I’m so sorry!” A hand steadied me, gently grabbing the shoulder he ran into. “Are you okay?”

“My already small ego is a little bruised, but I think I’ll live.” I looked up to meet my assaulter’s eyes and immediately I froze.

Holy shit, it’s Chris Evans.

His piercing blue eyes were staring right at me, his concern was directed towards me. In all of his charming, ray of sunshine, bearded glory, he was here.

“I’m so sorry that I’m late. Traffic was insane over the bridge. I would have called but I don’t have your number.” He half-smirked but not in a cocky way. I’d seen him do it in interviews before. He could have come up with a lame excuse, but somehow I knew he was telling the truth.

“No, it’s okay. I understand completely.”

He sighed in relief, his gorgeous and perfect smile taking over his features. He looked down at the table and it disappeared. “Were you leaving?”

“Uh,” I stammered, “I was because I thought I was being stood up.”

“I feel awful. Please let me make it up to you. Let’s sit down, have a nice dinner, and get to know each other.”

I hesitate, now even more nervous than I was before.

As if sensing my hesitation, he decided to sweeten the pot a bit to persuade me, “We can even get dessert.”

I chuckle at his attempt. That’ll do it though. I sit back down with him following suit, finally starting our date.

We talked about everything. Anything and everything. No topic was off limits. Hours went by but it felt like minutes. We didn’t even know how long we’d been there until our waiter came to tell us that the restaurant was closed. We left and walked around the city until the night sky was giving way to the morning. He accompanied me back to my car, gave me the best hug I’ve ever received and a kiss on the cheek, promising we’ll get together again soon, and opening and closing my car door for me. I drove away with the biggest smile on my face and literal butterflies in my stomach. That was the best date I’d ever been on.

When I made it back to my apartment with the early morning rays peeking through my shades, I had a text message waiting for me from him. Just a simple good night, he had had an amazing time, and he couldn’t wait to see me again.

I fell asleep, hopeful. Hopeful that I would see him again, that this could maybe go somewhere. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but it was hard not to. I hadn’t felt this way in an exceptionally long time. I haven’t been on this good of a date in equally as long. I can’t wait to see him again…

                      Present day...

I finally pull into the parking lot after an hour stuck in traffic. My 12-hour day at work today has taken a lot out of me. I’m exhausted, mentally and physically. Thankfully though, my 2-week-long vacation starts tomorrow. After that, I have fourteen days of no working, no getting up at the ass crack of dawn to be able to drive in miserable traffic, no dealing with difficult or boring co-workers. Just fourteen days of rest and relaxation, after the wedding of course.

My best friend and her fiancé are getting married on Saturday. I’ve watched them go through all of their highs and lows throughout the last few years and when he came to me telling me he planned on proposing, I couldn’t have been happier for them. He even asked me to secretly photograph the moment for her. She was more than surprised about everything.

Now their wedding is here and everyone couldn’t be more excited to celebrate them.

Tomorrow is their rehearsal dinner. The wedding party and their plus ones are all invited.

I walk into my apartment, immediately relieving myself from the confines of my shoes. A heavenly scent registers to me and I’m carried all the way to the kitchen. I see my sexy boyfriend standing at the stove with his back towards me.

“Hey babe,” he calls without turning around.

I hum, happily making my way towards him. I wrap my arms around his waist, placing a kiss on his back. “What is that unbelievable smell?”

He chuckles, vibrating through his chest. “Your favorite, of course.”

I hum again, “You spoil me, baby.”

He chuckles again, turning in my arms. His handsome face finally came into view. His gorgeous brown eyes look into mine as I get lost in his. For the past year, I’ve been the happiest I’ve been in a while. Since the day I met him, it was like everything fell into place. He’s sweet, ambitious, funny, kindhearted, passionate, and just overall the best man I had ever met. He makes me so happy…

Oh who am I kidding? He’s perfect. He is everything I ever wanted. If I made a list of all of the qualities I wanted in a husband, he would check off every single box.

But the feelings I have had for him over the last year are nothing compared to what I had in one night for him. I find myself wishing his eyes were bright blue instead of dark brown. I wish his arms were around me instead of the ones around me right now. The butterflies from that night have stayed dormant ever since.

I don’t know what happened after that night. I honestly thought we had a good time that night. Conversations flowed seamlessly. We made each other laugh so hard we had tears running down our faces. The physical connection was there- at first he had his arm around my shoulders as we walked around town, but as time went on he slowly moved lower around my waist, eventually intertwining our hands together until we arrived back at our cars. He even said that he wanted to see me again.

But I never heard from him again after that one text message. No call, no text, not even a message from my friend’s boyfriend. Nothing. I was disappointed beyond belief. I didn’t think he was that guy: the type to ditch someone without any explanation or goodbye. I thought I understood him to be a gentleman. Everything I had read about him pointed to him being one of the purest humans in the world. This was the opposite of all of that.

From that day on, I’ve loathed him. He gave me the perfect evening and then cut me off cold turkey from anything further. I have a three strike rule. His first: he was late. His second: he tricked me into liking him. His third: he lied to me. Three strikes and he’s out.

I have tried not to look back since. It’s not without its difficulties though since he’s literally everywhere. On magazine covers, in commercials, movie trailers, streaming services- he’s there. Why did he have to be such a successful actor? If he weren’t, it would make for forgetting him that much easier.

No closure. No answers. Nothing.

The rehearsal dinner went smoothly the next night which hopefully was foreshadowing for the big day itself. 

A majority of us were standing around about to start when the doors loudly being opened drew everyone’s attention away from our milling about. A man stood in the middle of the doorway then strode in like he owned the place. The closer he got, the more the details of his face came into focus.

No. Freaking. Way.

I look toward my best friend. She looked like she wasn’t shocked he was late, but she knew he was coming. I creep up behind her and clear my throat. Instantly she cringed.

“Did you forget to tell me something?” I whisper to her.

She sends me an apologetic smile, “Well, I actually put off telling you ‘cause I didn’t know how you would react and then I meant to tell you last night but with the whole ‘I’m getting married in two days’ buzz took over and now the rehearsal is here-”

“Just please tell me I’m not walking in with him.” I beg.

She chuckles nervously before she escaped to go greet him with her fiancé.

I turn to her sister who is also one of my closest friends. “Did you know he was going to be a groomsman?”

The guilt written in her face tells me everything I need to know. “She made me promise not to tell you.”

I groan, “The loyalty level around here is staggeringly low.”

I head over to where my boyfriend is standing and take comfort in his arms before I have to deal with the man who broke my heart.

“Are you okay?” He asks a little confused by my actions.

I nod, “Just tired from last night.” He chuckles at the mention of the night before, squeezing me into his chest.

“Alright everyone! Time to get started.” The wedding coordinator beckons us all to the back entrance of the barn standing next to our corresponding wedding party member. I stand right in front of the Maid of Honor and Best Man. I kept my eyes forward focusing on anything but the guy who took his place next to me.

“It’s good to see you,” He murmurs to me over the instructions of the coordinator.

I scoff and roll my eyes. He has the nerve to say that to me after two years of silence. I imagined a million times what it would be like to see him again. I’d imagined a lot of screaming with possible hitting. Or I thought about the ever-effective, old fashioned silent treatment. He doesn’t deserve to know that our one night out together effected me so much and I’ve carried a rather large torch for him ever since. At the very moment, it will be the latter, but there’s no telling what tonight and tomorrow will bring.

“Now ladies, rest- don’t grab- your hand near the crook of his arm. Men, keep your arm at that angle with an open hand resting on your stomach- no fist. And don’t forget to smile- this is a happy day!” As quickly as he showed up, the coordinator was on to the bride and her father before either of us could register he was there.

I begrudgingly did as I was instructed, “resting” my hand on his bare forearm, holding a stand-in bouquet for the occasion in my other hand.

“Are you not going to talk to me?” He speaks again but I ignore him once more.

Thankfully that was when it was our turn to walk down the aisle. For the rest of the rehearsal, he didn’t get a chance to say anything else. As soon as we were done, I go straight for my boyfriend. I figured there’s no way he would approach me if I were with another man.

We all head to the restaurant afterwards to celebrate the last night before our friends begin their lives together as husband and wife. I keep my distance from Chris, always sticking close with my boyfriend.

The one moment I was alone was when I went to the bathroom. I thought for the few minutes I wouldn’t be in danger.

However I was wrong.

As soon as I step out an arm shot out in front of me. A very pale muscular arm.

“Are you seriously going to ignore me for the next two days?”

I duck under his arm fully planning on continuing what I set out to do.

“Y/N,” he grabs my arm, “will you please talk to me? What did I do to make you so mad at me?”

I whip around hopefully sending daggers his way. “Are you serious right now?”

“She finally speaks!” He exclaims.

“Because I cannot believe what I’m hearing. Like, I don’t think I heard you right.” All of the feelings I’ve been burying for two years were making their way up to the surface and I don’t think I can stop them. “We had a fantastic night. It was literally the best night of my life, it was the most comfortable with a guy that I had ever been. You made me laugh, you gave me butterflies, you helped me feel for the first time in years.” I try to swallow down the lump that was forming in my throat. “You told me you wanted to see me again. You made me excited for the future for once in my life… and then you took it away.”

With every second that passed, his expression got closer and closer to utter defeat: his shoulders slumped, his grip on my arm loosened, his jaw slowly unclenched, his eyebrows furrowed.

“You were late,” I hold up one finger, “You tricked me,” two fingers,” “You lied to me.” Three fingers were up and in front of his face for emphasis. “Three strikes and you’re out.”

I back away from him, having nothing more I wanted to say. As soon as I turned the corner, I felt liberated… for about five seconds. When that passed, devastation hit. For the last two years, I’ve held out hope- I tried not to- but I did, that maybe someday something could happen between us. That maybe, just maybe, we could pick up where we left off that night.

Now that the moment of confrontation has come and gone, I feel all the hope fade away. All of those possibilities I pictured have left the building. Being with him is no longer an option. I have my boyfriend who makes me happy, who gives me everything I could possibly want.

The rest of the night went on without another incident. Chris kept his distance. However, I could feel his eyes on me for every second that passed as we sat at the table. It was a relief when we finally left and could retreat back to our hotel rooms for the night. The bride and I got to stay in a suite that we’ll all be getting ready in in the morning. They wanted to uphold the “not seeing each other the night before the wedding,” even though they’ve lived with each other for a year and a half now.

On the wedding day, everything went according to plan. Everyone was on time to hair and make-up, pictures went flawlessly, the weather cooperated with everything, Chris didn’t attempt to talk to me at all- it was a perfect day to watch two people who love each other commit to the other for the rest of their lives.

But then came the reception. That’s when I knew apparently all bets would be off. The ceremony was over. Niceties would wear off as more and more alcohol is consumed. I was not looking forward to it.

We make our ridiculous entrances and take our seats at the head table. We eat then speeches were made. Lots of laughs were had as the Best Man dished on stories he had with the groom growing up, a few tears were shed at her sister’s after recounting the moment the bride knew he was the man of her dreams- overall I’d say they were a success.

Again, I felt his eyes on me, burning holes in the side of my head from the other side of the groom for the entire dining portion of the evening. I kept myself from glancing in his direction, instead focusing on the conversations with the bride’s sister next to me and my boyfriend who is across the way- anything not to meet his eyes.

Finally the DJ announces it was time for all to convene on the dancefloor after the specialty dances. I immediately see my boyfriend start to stand, knowing he’d been ready for this all night. I’d been looking forward to dancing with him all night as well, I even removed my shoes in anticipation. As I stand up, a hand is held out in front of me. I knew whose hand it was. I remember staring at it as he would rub his lips on our date. The strength of it as it intertwined with mine as we walked down the streets of our town, the safeness I felt as he squeezed it if he detected I was getting anxious around a group of people and I needed the reassurance. I knew that hand well, unfortunately.

“Dance with me?” He nearly whispers in my ear. I didn’t realize he was that close until I could feel said whisper on my neck. I contain the shiver that runs down my spine at how husky his voice is. God I’ve missed that…

No! I will not be enchanted by him again. He does not deserve me.

I exhale the breath I was holding, it comes out a lot harsher than I expected. “No, thank you.” I turn away from him, but his hand gently grabs my arm stopping me from going any further.

He whispers again, “He’s not good enough for you,” before walking away.

I’m frozen in place. I glare at his retreating back as he makes his way over to the bar. My mouth hangs open in disbelief. How dare he… How fucking dare he assume anything about me or my relationship. He doesn’t know anything about what our relationship is like. My boyfriend treats me so well, spoils me even though I know I don’t deserve it. He listens to me, he cares about me, and he makes me laugh until I cry- he’s everything I’ve wanted in a man. Chris is the one who had his chance and subsequently blew it. He has no right to judge or even comment on my relationship when he knows absolutely nothing about it.

I hurriedly make my way to my awaiting boyfriend and pull him onto the crowded dancefloor. “You okay?” He asks me, “Did he say something to upset you?”

“Nothing worth repeating.” All I wanted to do was forget about him and his irrelevant feelings towards my relationship…

…Except I couldn’t. His words rattled me. Does he see something I don’t? He told me on our date that he’s an excellent judge of character so he wouldn’t say something like that unless he got a bad feeling, right? Either that or he said it just to get under my skin and force me to talk to him. No matter the reason I hate him for it because my pride won’t let it stand.

I spot him leaning against the bar, staring directly at the two of us over the rim of his glass. His perfect eyebrow quirks up at the eye contact, that sets my blood to boiling. He thinks he’s so smug. I wish I could just slap that stupid hidden smirk right off his perfect face…

Following a few dances, I mutter something about him going to dance with the bride to my boyfriend before exiting the dancefloor. I rush out of the barn, away from the crowd needing some air from his suffocating gaze. I find a little lit area that’s perfect for pictures. There are rectangular hay bales set together as a makeshift U-shaped bench with some low watt bulbs strung up above between two poles. It would be serene if I weren’t already on edge.

After taking a few deep breaths, I finally feel like I can speak without yelling. “You had no right.”

I didn’t have to turn around to know he followed me out here. It’s exactly what I wanted him to do, just like it was his intention to get under my skin. As much as I wished to avoid this conversation it seems that we can’t go on without it. We may tear each other apart in the process, but this is my chance for closure. This is my only opportunity to get the answers I’ve been needing to move on for the past two years. Two years of wondering what went wrong after the most perfect date I’ve ever been on with an equally perfect man has been eating at my heart and mind. I hated always wondering “what if” or “what would I be doing right now if I were with him” especially when I started dating my boyfriend. I had no answers as to why those questions could not be. I thought with time I’d stop asking them, thinking I’d never see the man again. He’s a big movie star, why would he wonder about a woman he went on one date with?

As I expected, his deep baritone voice comes behind me, but his words do little to ease my nerves. In fact they set them off even more so than before. “I’m sorry.”

I scoff at his half-hearted apology, knowing he doesn’t mean it at all. “Oh bite me, Christopher.” I turn around to face him. God he looks even better out here. The subtle gold glow from the lights are complimenting his skin tone, they make his baby blues shine which just frustrates me more.

“Please, Y/N,-” He takes a step closer to me, but I won’t have that. 

“No,” I take a step back keeping the needed distance between us for fear I may strangle him. “I don’t want to hear any of your bullshit excuses. You had no right to pass judgment on a relationship that you know absolutely nothing about.”

He slips his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “Oh, I’ve seen enough.”

“Really?” I jut my hip out, resting my hand on it. “In the two days you’ve been here, you think you’ve got us all figured out?”

“Yes,” he answers with conviction. 

My shaking hands clench into fists, trying my damnedest not to lose control. I entangle them into my hair as best as I can without ruining the work the hairstylist did this morning before running them down my face. He has some nerve. 

“We had one night. One night! One nearly perfect night together and suddenly that makes you an expert on what is good for me?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘an expert’-”

“I wouldn’t say anything!” I interrupt, “I never heard from you again. Now after two years, you come in here acting like you know anything about me or my relationship? Who do you think you are?”

“A man who made a mistake!” He snaps.

There was a long pause. I never expected to hear that from him. All these years I wanted to think the worst of him for leaving me hanging like that. He got my hopes up, thinking we may have a future together only for them to come crashing back down to Earth when he never contacted me again. I wondered and wondered if maybe I read the signals wrong. Maybe I took his flirting as more than it was. Maybe the small gestures like his arm around my shoulders, on the small of my back, or the hand holding were only him being friendly. I wracked my brain going over every single detail of the night to try and pinpoint a reason for him not to have called me afterwards. I found nothing, which was equally as frustrating.

“Alright, I made a mistake.” He moves to sit on one of the hay bales. He rests his elbows on his knees and buries his head in his hands, letting out a huge sigh. “God I wanted everything with you.”

Once again, I’m frozen by his words. He what? But that doesn’t make sense. His words and his actions don’t line up- how could that be?

He removes his hands from his face, staring at the grass. “After that night, I wanted it all. I wanted to settle down, get the house with a white picket fence in the suburbs, carry you through the threshold after our wedding day, bring our children home from the hospital, watch them grow until we’re old and gray. I wanted everything.”

My heart aches. All of that was exactly what I wanted, especially with him. I could feel the tears building behind my eyes, my heart breaking mourning the loss of what we could have had by now if he had only said something.

I also find my anger growing as well. If he felt all of that, why did he not contact me again? Why did he give me hope that our night out together could have been the start of something good and then taken it away just as quickly?

“But?” There had to be a “but” coming after his statement. Clearly something stopped him from pursuing the possibility of “us,” destroying any future we could have had.

He sighs, “but…” he finally looks up at me with more emotion in his eyes than I was expecting. There was contemplation, confusion, honesty, agony…

I look away. In an instant I knew what he was about to say. It makes complete sense. He was at the height of his career, shooting movie after movie all around the world for a majority of the year. How would he have had time to have a relationship mixed in with that? He couldn’t.

“Your career was more important,” I interject, “I get it. I do.” I couldn’t fault him for choosing work over someone he just met, no matter how much he claims to have liked me right off the bat. He was going to be busy. We probably wouldn’t have had a lot of time to see each other. It’s not like I could give up my career to follow him. Besides even if I could have, he wouldn’t want that. He said so himself. He wanted someone who was independent; who could do their own thing and not be enveloped in his crazy life.

He stands up and steps closer to me, “no, that wasn’t it. I promise you that wasn’t it.”

There’s that word. Promise. He promised we’d see each other again soon after our night together. But he broke that.

“Then what was it?” My voice cracks at the end. I can feel my reserves slipping the more he speaks. I didn’t realize how much I missed his voice until now. I haven’t seen any of the movies he’s been in the last few years. I have him and his hashtag blocked on all social media platforms so I don’t see anything of his on any of my timelines. My other friends think I don’t like him (only my best friend and her now husband know about our date). To hear it again brings back all of the good memories we made together in that short night and all of the emotions I’ve been holding back since. “I have been wracking my brain for years wondering what went wrong after that.”

“I got scared,” he finally admits the truth. “I got scared of how much I liked you and how much I wanted to protect you.”

“From what?”

“From me,” he casts his gaze down at his hands as he fidgets with them, “and my life. I didn’t want to subject you to the chaos that is my life. I know what my fans would do to you if we were in a relationship, I was trying to protect you from all of the ugly that being with me comes with.”

So that’s what he was afraid of? He was afraid our relationship would inevitably end exactly like his last one? His “fans” were horrible to her. They sent death threats to her and her family members, always commenting negatively on her social media pages all because she was dating him. I remember reading about it right after it happened. I knew that side of his fandom was toxic. But did I care? No. Did I think I couldn’t handle it? I honestly don’t know, but would I have been willing to deal with it for him? Yes. I would have given up anything to be with him. That’s precisely why he did what he did. He didn’t want me giving anything up for him because he knows I’d be giving up any semblance of privacy I had if I were in a public relationship with him.

If I had known these were the reasons why he ghosted me, I would have been broken hearted but I would have understood. Hell, I probably would have fallen more in love with him if I knew that, not fallen in loathe.

He continues, “I thought that if I never contacted you again, you could move on”- he clears his throat-“and find someone better than me who could give you the normal life you deserve. Which as much as I wish I couldn’t, I see that you have…” he pauses as if deciding whether he should keep speaking. When I don’t stop him, he does, “But I can’t help feeling like that could have been me.”

My slightly shaky hands cover his fidgeting ones. His hand moves until he’s intertwining our fingers together, palms touching. They fit perfectly together as if they were each other’s missing puzzle piece. His thumbs stroke mine sending warmth down my arms all the way down to my toes. The sparks I felt back then return with full force. He leans down, pressing his forehead against mine. My heart is beating out of my chest, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t feel it in some way.

I feel my heart break in my chest. My lip quivers and the tears threaten to make themselves known. My only saving grace is the fact that he can’t see my face. I may lose it completely if he did.

His breath is coming out equally as shaky between us, he squeezes my hands as if he doesn’t want me to let go. Believe me, I don’t want to. I bring one of our interlocked hands up to my lips. I kiss the back of his hand because I can’t kiss him where I want to. I pull back just enough to see his beautiful baby blues that could have any woman in the world swoon. They were terribly bloodshot right now but that only made them more tragically breathtaking. I tear one of my hands out of his and bring it to his cheek. He leans into it, a tear drops into the crevices between the contact.

The barely above whisper that came out was all I could muster without having a total breakdown because he’s right. It could have been him. We could have been something great. We could have built a life together. We could have had it all. And it broke my heart into a million pieces knowing all of this could have been avoided if life had handed both of us different lives.

“It almost was.”

~*~

Taglist: @the-marvel-wars​ @elusive-beauty​ @drakesfiance @im-a-slut-for-an-accent​ @fantasy-is-my-reality​ @princess-evans-addict​

[deadbiwrites]

a video of supergirl grabbing lena luthor's ass starts circulating and it's very embarrassing for sc but extremely funny to their friends

(I am SO sorry. Where do these hide? Why do I never see them? How long has this been here?!

Anyways, have some cute nonsense!)

The day starts like any other, honestly.

Like, sure, Kara’s never thrilled when she wakes up 20 minutes late and has to use superspeed to get through her morning routine and into the office on time, but it happens regularly enough that she’s just sort of used to it by now. Like, the sky is blue, the grass is green, she manages time poorly. Whatever.

But she does get to work on time, with just enough to spare that she can make a brief detour to Nia’s desk for the coffee her protege has already bought for her, thank her profusely (with perhaps minor promising of firstborn children), and slip into the morning meeting just as Snapper, James, and Lena start handing out assignments for the day.

“Well, well, good of you to join us, Ponytail. Let me guess, a family emergency kept you out all night again?”

‘I mean, that Abraxian wasn’t my family, technically, but someone’s family, so…’ “Something like that. Sorry.”

Lena catches her eye and quirks a brow in question, but Kara just shrugs easily and sips her coffee, pulling a silly face at her friend when Snapper’s attention moves away from her. When her eyes uncross, she can tell Lena is fighting not to laugh, eyes sparking with mirth as she bites her lip. Kara takes another sip of coffee, feeling a bit smug that she can get Lena to smile without even having to say anything to her. That’s real talent, right there.

Especially since Lena has to stand up at the front with James, who has been by turns cold, dejected, and surly toward her since their breakup (a big, real, final one) a few weeks prior. Lena had said that the whole thing was a mistake, that she should’ve never gone for it in the first place because she’d been right the first time- they’d had some chemistry, after all, but it certainly wasn’t compatible long-term. 

Which… Kara can certainly relate. Like, a lot.

Especially about the whole… James being kind of wounded about it part. That part had really sucked- when he’d done it with Kara, who he’d gone on like, a date with, it’d resulted in him deciding to become a vigilante. Rao only knows what he’ll do when it’s someone he dated on and off for over a year...

“Ponytail!”

Kara jumps, realizing too late that her wandering attention hasn’t gone unnoticed. “Yes, sir?”

Snapper rolls his eyes. “Great, now that you’ve stopped orbiting Saturn, you wanna go get that article started?”

Kara’s eyes widen slightly in a panic as she realizes that she has no idea what he’s talking about. “Uh…” Behind his back, Lena catches her eye and nods subtly. Thank Rao. “Yes. I super do.”

Lena snorts, James sighs deeply, and the meeting is adjourned.

**

“So what exactly am I supposed to be doing today?” Kara asks Lena as they stroll out of the conference room together.

“Well unfortunately for you, you have to interview a big-time CEO. You have a meeting scheduled with her in three hours.”

“You?” Kara asks hopefully.

“You’re very sweet,” Lena chuckles. “No, Elena Watts. She’s a real estate developer, and she runs a nonprofit organization for homeless youth. It’s one of the articles we’re doing for next month’s spread. Contrary to popular belief, Cat and I weren’t the only women with high-profile jobs in this city. ”

“Oh, that’s pretty cool! Have you met her?”

“Not personally, no, but I have donated to her charity- it’s a very good cause, especially the outreach they do with queer youth.”

Kara elbows Lena gently. “You’re such a softie.”

“Mmm, maybe. But if you tell anyone, you’re fired.”

Kara clutches a hand to her chest, feigning horror. “Why Miss Luthor, what a blatant abuse of power!”

Lena shrugs. “I’m a Luthor, darling, I have to keep up appearances somehow.”

“Ouch,” Kara laughs. “See you at lunch?”

“Only if lunch includes a milkshake- I have a teleconference with both boards today. Unless you feel like joining me?”

“Wow, well as fun as that sounds, I’m gonna go do literally anything else.” Her comms crackle to life, alerting her of a hostage situation downtown, and Kara sighs. So much for a work day. “Alright, well, I’m, um, gonna go… see what I can find on Elena Watts. Maybe over another cup of coffee at Noonan’s.” She widens her eyes a bit, trying her best to convey that she’s going to be on Super-duty for a little while.

Thankfully, Lena picks up on it and grins. “You just want sticky buns.”

“Lena, I always want sticky buns. They’re like, my second favorite thing to eat.”

“Oh? What’s the first?” Lena asks, voice just a bit lower than usual. 

Kara opens her mouth and closes it, flushing slightly as she averts her gaze and adjusts the laptop bag on her shoulder. Stuff like that has been happening more and more, and she’s not 100% sure what to do about it. Because on the one hand, it makes her stomach do flips and tie up in knots and makes her brain do this… staticky thing where nothing filters in or out, just a pleasant buzz of how funny and smart Lena is and how much Kara likes hanging out with her and being flirted with (because that’s definitely what’s been happening, even if neither of them is really ready to address it) and just generally looking at Lena.... who is currently biting her lip and grinning up at Kara, and that buzz makes her kinda dumb, which is just really unhelpful. But on the other hand, it’s also kinda awesome and Kara really enjoys it, and-

“Kara?”

She spaced out again. Crap.

“Um. What time are you free for lunch?”

Lena sighs, seeming slightly disappointed that Kara isn’t flirting back at the moment (and thank Rao Lena can’t read minds), but she smiles back easily enough as they step off of the elevator. “I should be done by two.”

Feeling emboldened, Kara turns so she’s walking backwards in front of Lena and grins. “It’s a date,” she says with a grin, ducking forward to press a quick “friendly” kiss high on Lena’s cheek. She whirls and jogs out the double doors, leaving Lena smiling exasperatedly after her.

**

It is genuinely baffling to Kara that people still commit crimes in National City. It’s not even an ego thing, really, since Kara tries to keep herself humble (even when she manages to wrap up a hostage situation within twenty seconds of arriving on-scene without injuring any of the criminals or damaging the building too badly). Like, yeah, she gets that there’s a certain element of crazies who just sorta gravitate to places with a local hero, the big-bads who have their own suits and geek-toys and abilities. Them, Kara gets. Kinda sorta. But the regular ones, who are armed with like, pistols? Or knives? Just regular man made stuff without even the benefit of magic or kryptonite or something?

Why? 

She’s sure that if she asked, Lena would have some sort of statistical thing about large cities and poverty and all sorts of other factors that would end up making Kara feel like a jerk for being uncharitable to the criminal element of her city, but at the moment she’s mostly too annoyed by the fact that she has to spend her weekdays chasing them around instead of chasing stories.

Once all the hostages are freed and the cops secure the scene, Kara departs, flying into the alley behind Noonan’s and changing into her regular clothes before she heads inside to do a bit of research before her meeting with Elena Watts in a few hours (just because she’d used it as a cover doesn’t mean it was a bad idea…). She finds her favorite little two-person booth tucked into a quiet corner, plugs in her laptop, and gets to work, asking the waitress to please keep both the coffee and the sticky buns coming.

She gets a surprising amount done by the time she needs to leave for the interview, having a good foundation for what she wants to write and who Elena Watts is.

Ms. Watts turns out to be a pretty nice lady around Eliza’s age, if a bit busy and distracted by the steady flow of people in and out of her office. She answers all Kara’s questions with aplomb, happy to elaborate on most every point and eager to draw attention to the rising issue of homelessness among children and teens in the US.

“When I was young, my dad lost his job at the auto plant. It was supposed to be a temporary layoff, but the factory never reopened. We ended up losing the house, and we lived so far from our extended family that staying with them wasn’t much of an option. We lived in our SUV for six months, sleeping at shelters every now and again, if we could find one that allowed families to stay together. We showered at the local YMCA. Five people and a dog, living and sleeping in an old station wagon- even now, it sounds ridiculous. Eventually, we got back on our feet, but I never forgot that. It was just six months, but it was- and remains- the scariest, most uncertain time in my entire life, and it shaped me in a lot of ways I didn’t expect. And there are kids and families who do that for years. I just want to help them the way I wish that someone had been able to help us.”

At the end of the interview, Kara thanks her profusely for her time and for sharing her story before hurrying off to CatCo to type up a draft for Snapper (“What’s wrong with you, Ponytail, why is everything you bring me sappy and sentimental?”), which she finishes an outline of just in time to send it off before running to Big Belly and L-Corp for lunch with Lena.

She greets the newest in a series of secretaries (Anna? Amy? Ava? Lena’s really missing Jess, these days, but from what she’s told Kara, Jess is kicking butt in her new role as VP of Operations and will probably take over for the COO when he retires in a few years), and the girl waves her in distractedly.

And that’s when Kara’s day goes from normal to not, because inside the office are two masked men holding a stone-faced Lena at gunpoint on her balcony and demanding… something, probably. Kara’s a bit distracted by the loaded gun aimed at Lena’s head.

“Hey!” she yells, attracting both their attention. They whirl on her and Lena’s eyes widen in alarm, and Kara suddenly realizes three things- 1) she’s in her Kara Danvers clothes, not the supersuit, 2) she can’t speed into the suit now that they’re both looking at her, and 3) she has no plan.

Crap.

“Who the hell are you?!” one of them demands.

Kara… doesn’t have a good or snappy answer for that, and instead does the only thing she can think of- she throws the large milkshakes she’s carrying at them as hard as she can.

Which, in retrospect, is too hard, apparently because while yes, it is both funny and gratifying to see two grown men get absolutely leveled by a tasty dairy treat to the face, the one closest to Lena manages to elbow her in such a way that she falls backwards over the rail with an instinctual scream that makes Kara’s heart fly into her throat. She whips off her glasses, and by the time she’s out the window and speeding toward Lena’s flailing form, the suit is materialized. She gets under Lena, catching her carefully and dropping a bit further before slowing down (because she’s been made aware that when she doesn’t, the people she’s saving may as well be hitting the pavement), finally coasting to a stop about 20 feet from the ground.

Lena’s face is screwed up in a forced sort of focus, her hands clutching tightly at Kara’s shoulders and cape as she holds her breath.

“Are you okay?” Kara asks quietly.

Lena swallows thickly and nods, eyes still firmly closed. “I’m alright. Thank you- I’ll admit, I wasn’t quite sure how to get out of that one.”

“What was that? What did they want?”

Lena cracks an eye open. “Oh. you know, just my quarterly assassination attempt. I think my mother was starting to miss me, so she wanted to reach out.”

Kara snorts. “That really shouldn’t be funny.”

“Maybe not, but here we are.” Lena shifts a bit in Kara’s arms, cheeks a bit flushed from the adrenaline rush, and clears her throat. “Not to be rude, Supergirl, but do you think that perhaps we could continue this conversation… on the ground?”

“Oh. Oh! Yeah, sorry. I forgot we were, uh, flying.”

Lena chuckles as they ascend slowly back up to her office. “You forgot you were flying?”

Kara shrugs with an easy smile. “I guess you have that effect on me.”

Lena huffs a laugh against Kara’s neck, eyes squeezed shut again. They alight on the balcony, finding the two men still unconscious, covered in Kara and Lena’s lunch. Lena sighs as Kara sets her down, pinching the bridge of her nose. “What a mess.”

“Yeah, sorry, I sorta… panicked.”  

“I was so looking forward to a milkshake too…” Lena laments playfully.

“Well, then I have good news and bad news,” Kara says. She reaches out and gently wipes a bit of her own chocolate shake from Lena’s cheek with the pad of her thumb, tucking it into her mouth on instinct to get a taste of it. “The good news is, you do, in fact, have some shake on you!”

“Whats the bad news?” 

“Also that you have some shake on you.” Kara laughs, gathering the two men in her arms and hefting them a bit so they’re easier to carry. “I’ll get you another one. Be right back.”

She drops the men at the police station with a brief explanation before flying back into the office. Lena hands over her discarded glasses with a wry grin.

“I figured you’d need these before the police arrive.” She’s putting on a brave front, but she’s clearly still more than a bit rattled, if her too-bright eyes and thundering heartbeat are anything to go by. Kara steps closer and opens her arms in invitation, and Lena doesn’t hesitate to step into them. “Thank you,” Lena says fervently, tucking her face into Kara’s shoulder and wrapping her arms tight around Kara’s waist. 

“Always,” Kara promises, daring to press a reassuring kiss to Lena’s temple (and getting a bit of Lena’s strawberry shake for her troubles) before wrapping her up even tighter in her arms. “Are you actually okay?”

“I mean, my fear of heights has been reaffirmed,” Lena jokes, “but aside from that, I’m not hurt.”

“Good. I don’t like, love people pointing guns at you. Just so you know.”

“I’m not a fan either, for the record,” Lena drawls, burrowing even closer. “Even though I know you’ll save me, it still puts a damper on my day.”

Kara huffs a laugh. “Same.”

They stay like that for a few minutes, until Lena’s calmed down enough to stop shaking and calls her assistant (Audra, apparently) in, telling her what’d happened and that the police would be arriving shortly to take her and Kara’s statements, and please advise the security team to let them up discreetly. After the cops arrive, it’s a blur of questions, and Kara has to concentrate on telling the story of how she’d panicked and thrown the milkshakes at the men, and one of them had knocked Lena over the balcony (all true), and Kara had yelled for Supergirl, who had knocked the men out on her way to Lena (also technically mostly true. Technically. Mostly.). The police are sure to tell Kara that next time, she shouldn’t throw things at people with guns, and also to tell them both how lucky they are that Supergirl had shown up when she did.

“She’s always there when I need her,” Lena agrees, throwing a sly wink over the officer’s shoulder at Kara.

Kara just shakes her head and smiles. Even almost dying isn’t enough to make Lena not flirt with her. The woman is truly a marvel.

Kara’s comms crackle again, accompanied by Alex’s custom ringtone on her cell, and after assuring the police that she has no issue with giving another statement if they need her to later, hurries over to the DEO (making a quick stop in the back alley to change into her suit).

**

When Kara arrives, she’s told that J’onn and Alex are waiting for her in the Directors’ offices. She makes her way there, waving to the agents and scientists she knows. But it’s very weird, because every time one of them sees her, they start giggling before quickly hurrying off in the opposite direction. Like, literally everyone is whispering and pointing and giggling, and it’s giving Kara such visceral flashbacks to high school that it’s all she can do to not check her cape for a taped on sign that says ‘Kick me’ or ‘Freak’.

(Kids are mean.)

By the time Kara gets to her destination, she’s fully paranoid, sure that someone’s playing a prank on her, somehow, and that everyone but her is in on the joke. She opens the door with more force than intended and catches it just before the handle puts a hole in the wall, throwing Alex and J’onn a sheepish smile. She closes the door extra gently and leans against it heavily. J’onn and Alex just stare at her, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“Busy day, Supergirl?” Alex asks, and after half a lifetime of spending time with her, Kara recognizes that she, too, is trying not to laugh. 

Kara’s had enough. “Okay, do I have something on my face? Or on the suit? Is someone messing with me?”

J’onn’s brow furrows. “No.”

“Then what’s the deal? Why is the entire DEO like… laughing at me? Did someone accidentally vent the lab fumes out into the main hub again?”

“No.”

“Did someone see me crash into that billboard last week?”

J’onn’s frown deepens. “What?”

“No,” Alex answers.

“Then why is everyone laughing at me?!”

“I mean, if I had to guess, I’d say it’s because of that,” Alex muses, nodding toward the big TV on the wall beside Kara.

She steps back to watch the news coverage of her dealing with the hostage situation this morning and frowns. “What, those guys? That was routine, what’s so funny about tha-”

“No, no, not that. That,” Alex clarifies, cranking up the volume.

“...reports are saying that the CEO of L-Corp, Lena Luthor, experienced an attempt on her life early this afternoon. Sources claim that she fell from a considerable height-”

“Hey, she was pushed,” Kara corrects.

“Shh!”

“...caught by Supergirl, who may have gotten a little… familiar with her.”

And there’s a video (clearly recorded on a cell phone but not the worst quality Kara’s ever seen) of Kara catching Lena and slowing to a stop above the sidewalk, of them talking quietly, of Kara’s hand definitely on Lena’s-

“Oh. Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” Alex drawls, clicking the TV off with relish, a large, evil-big-sister grin spreading across her face. “Congratulations, Supergirl- the world just watched you grope Lena Luthor’s ass.”

“But I’m not- I wasn’t groping, I was catching! My hands weren’t… If it was groping, I’d be all up on her, and I wasn’t!”

“Camera begs to differ. It’s already trending on Twitter in National CIty.”

Kara puts her head in her hands and groans. “Why?! I was trying to save her!”

“You were definitely trying to save part of her,” Alex agrees. “Granted, it’s a very nice part...”

Kara’s head pops up, and she shoots Alex a look that’s between a pout and a glare. “You’re not helping.”

Alex feigns confusion. “Am I supposed to be helping?”

“Alright, enough,” J’onn cuts in before Kara can retort. “We just wanted you to be aware. I don’t think that this is going to be taken for anything more than it is- a humorous moment in the middle of a successful rescue. You shouldn’t worry about the press.”

And truth be told, Kara isn't worried about the press- she’s worried about the fact that she’s going to have to face Lena after this. Lena, who she knows for a fact has google alerts set for herself, Kara Danvers, and Supergirl, a gesture which is normally actually sweet and kind but is right now definitely gonna bite her in the-

“Okay! So, is that all?”

Alex blinks, looks over at J’onn, and shrugs. “I mean, yeah. Try not to make a habit of groping your crush when you’re in the suit.”

“I wasn’t groping her-”

Alex grins. “So you admit you have a crush? Interesting…”

“Alex!”

**

J’onn’s prediction is mostly right- no one seems to be taking the shots of her grabbi- saving Lena as anything other than a funny blip of a moment in their coverage of it.

He was wrong about the sheer scale. The clip had gone totally viral in a matter of hours, and seemingly every major network in the country has run the clip at least once as a bit of filler-fluff, and almost every major network anchor (including the ones at CatCo, the traitors) has made at least a passing joke about Supergirl being ‘Super-Handsy'.

Which means that Kara is very late getting back to Lena’s office with replacement food. But like, she’s been busy, okay? It’s not like she’s avoiding Lena, or something, because she’s embarrassed- which she isn’t, because she didn’t do anything bad or wrong and-

Anyways, it’s well past sunset by the time Kara gets to Lena’s office door again. She hesitates outside it for just a moment before shouldering the door open and knocking tentatively.

Lena’s attention jerks from whatever she’d been absorbed in to Kara, and a relieved smile blooms across her face. “Hey there.”

Kara finds herself equally relieved to not experience a repeat performance of earlier scary situations. “Hi,” Kara says, unable to resist smiling back. She raises the bags and cup carrier. “I bring grease and milkshakes. Again.”

“Oh thank god, I’m starving,” Lena says, rolling her chair away from her desk and rising into a deep and probably much-needed stretch. Kara very determinedly does not stare at the slight sliver of soft tummy that appears between her blouse and skirt at the motion. “I’ve been staring at this screen for several hours. And Sam called to yell at me- she says hello, by the way- she and Ruby are in town next weekend.”

“Good!” Kara crosses the room to the couch as Lena does, easily spreading out the veritable buffet of fast food she’d brought over the coffee table. “I mean, not good that she yelled at you, or that you’re still at work, Miss Luthor,” she says pointedly, receiving only an unapologetic shrug in response. “But good that, um-”

“I get it,” Lena chuckles, resting a hand lightly on Kara’s knee and boy, if that doesn’t make Kara’s brain go fuzzy and dumb again… “Thank you, for checking in.”

“Of course I was gonna check on you, Lena,” Kara huffs. “Plus, I know you probably didn’t get lunch, so…”

Lena hums around a mouthful of burger, chewing until she can politely speak again. “Well it’s delicious. Did you make it yourself?” she teases with a sly grin.

“Oh, yeah, totally. Slaved away over a hot stove for this- I just wrapped it in Big Belly wrappers so you wouldn’t feel bad about it.”

“Very clever.” Lena pops the lid off of her milkshake and drags a fry through it (an advanced culinary delicacy Kara had horrified her with initially but had eventually become a bit of a guilty pleasure). “Although I have to say, traditionally you’d have to buy me dinner before you grabbed my ass.”

Kara chokes on a pickle. “Oh no,” she groans, dropping the burger onto the wrapper on the table and dropping her very red face into her hands as Lena laughs beside her. She peers out from between her fingers. “I am so sorry, I was just worried about you hitting the pavement and like, catching you in the least jarring way and I wasn’t paying attention to where my hands were and I didn’t even notice until I got back to the DEO and-”

“Well I have so say, I feel a bit offended that you didn’t even realize you were copping a feel...” When the only response is another groan and a deep flush spreading from Kara’s neck to the tips of her ears, Lena relents. “Kara, Kara, it’s fine!” she laughs, pulling Kara’s hands away from her face and giving them a grounding squeeze. “Nia’s been sending me memes about it all day, which has improved my mood significantly. On the grand scale of fallout from assassination attempts, this one was at least funny.”

“I know that’s supposed to be comforting, but all it makes me wanna do is wrap you in bubble wrap forever,” Kara informs her.

“Pass on that. But seriously, don’t worry about it- I know it wasn’t on purpose- unfortunately for me, you’re too noble to do something like that,” Lena laments playfully.

And whether it’s the knowledge that Lena is not, in fact, upset, the overall weirdness that has been this day, or this delicious burger fueling it, Kara feels a bit emboldened. “Hey Lena…”

“Yes?”

“What if I wanted to grab your butt? Just, y’know, as a hypothetical. For future reference.”

Lena quirks a brow at her, fighting a smile as she contemplates this. “Hmm. Strictly hypothetically?”

Kara scoots a bit closer on the couch. “Sure.”

 “Well, you’ve already bought me dinner…”

“And lunch, technically. Even if I gave it to the bad guys.”

“True. Plus you saved my life, so that gets you some points, probably.”

Kara pauses in her sly scooching. “Oh, hey, wait, no, that’s not-” 

“Kidding, Kara. I know you’d never use that to your advantage. I, however, have determined that strong moral fibre and nobility do, in fact, earn you more points, which is my choice on the matter and you get absolutely no say in it.”

“Oh. Um, alright, I think.”

Lena stares off into the middle distance, tapping her forefinger thoughtfully against her chin. Finally she shrugs. “Yes, I think you’re fulfilled the prerequisites for a bit of grab-ass today.”

Kara snorts, Lena laughs, and soon enough Kara takes her up on the offer.

**

“Hey Kara, remember that time you grabbed Lena’s ass and it made international news?” Nia asks around a mouthful of mushu pork.

“You mean last week? Yes, I remember,” Kara drawls. Beside her/halfway sitting on her lap, Lena snorts.

“That was the best.”

Alex glares. “Um, excuse you, no. No it was not. I had to sift through so much thirsting over my sister on like, every social media platform. It was the worst day of my life.”

Brainy’s brow furrows. “Surely that cannot be correct, Alex. Statistically speaking-”

Alex holds up a hand, cutting him off. “Trauma can’t be measured, Brainy.”

Kelly chuckles and presses a consoling kiss to Alex’s cheek, and it makes the tough agent melt into a doe-eyed puddle of mush that Kara snorts. And she says they’re gross... Kara sneaks a glance at Lena from the corner of her eye, and she catches Lena looking at her. She leans close and jostles her gently as she drops her head onto Lena’ shoulder. “We’re never gonna live that down, are we?”

“Probably not.”

“We have the worst friends.” When this elicits nothing but a chuckle, Kara tips her head back to see Lena still looking at her, a soft smile playing at her mouth and shining in her eyes. And like, this whole thing they’re doing is new, with the kissing and the actual dates and the... everything else. But the thing where Kara catches Lena looking at her and she doesn’t look away? That freakin’ knocks her out, every single time. “Hey,” she manages.

Lena grins down at her. “Hi.”

So yeah. Maybe the initial circumstances weren’t ideal, and she doesn’t love the mockery that’s been heaped upon her by all of her friends and loved ones (including Winn, who’d sent a missive from the future that literally just said ‘LOL’). But the fact is, Kara muses as she surges up just enough to kiss the corner of Lena’s mouth, that she doesn’t regret a thing.

[softcallofdutyimagines]

Not teeeechnically a “request”, but it’s a prompt I’ve been wanting to do for a while, so here we go. Just as @direwolfspostsrandomshit described, but the setting is your guy comes home to see you showing off the new outfit. Also, this includes Weaver and Naga as bonuses bc I love them 😌😌

Adler

You wouldn't know to look at him, especially behind those dark sunglasses, but his heart starts hammering immediately

"Uh, what's all this for?", He chuckles nervously

You tell him you were just trying it on, but you're not sure if you like it

"Why not? It looks stunning on you"

Oh really?

"Well you sure stunned me", he smiles and pulls you in by the waist

Adler kisses you and runs his hands up and down your bare skin

He loves how much there is to feel

With one more kiss, he slips the tip of his thumbs under the little hem of your shirt

Hudson

"I uh, don't suppose you know how to take this off...?"

Maybe you can show him ;)

I'm sorry, but I KNOW y'all cannot look me in the eye and tell me that good old clean cut Hudson doesn't secretly have some SERIOUS kinks and fantasies

One of those kinks is definitely a huge thirst for curvy women lmao

You have him on his knees panting as it is, but to come home to you in that?

WOOF WOOF BARK BARK AWOOOOO

However, like Adler, Hudson is the master of the poker face

Too bad his blushing cheeks betray him

Now that is a rare sight indeed

You feel a bit more confident in your outfit, just by seeing how excited it's made Hudson

"Where'd you get that?", he tries to hide the blush by swiping at his face a little

You decide to have a little fun and saunter up to him, looking absolutely stunning

You tell him it's thrifted, but that's not of any importance right now

His skin feels hot to the touch as you cup his cheek and give him a kiss

At last he can't keep his hands to himself any longer, exploring every inch of exposed skin and gorgeous curves as he does so

You're going to be there for a while ;)

Lazar

Ok, first off, Lazar knows you struggle with body image issues and he does his best to support you!

So to see you working it in a cute little number like that is 👀👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻

Besides, obviously he thinks your body is lovely!!

"Wow, you look amazing!"

You whip around, looking quite surprised to see him

Lazar continues on his way over, your outfit is even better from the front

You ask him if he really thinks so

You're more then nervous in this get up, but you've come to really trust his opinion and ego boosts

"Fuck yeah I do!", he picks you up easily and gives you a spin

He kisses your nose and then your lips before gently returning you to the ground

Lazar takes one look at you and your crop top and then one at his torso

"Say, you think they have any of those in my size?", the big guy laughs

You laugh too, but you're not entirely sure if he's joking

Mason

He's absolutely stunned!

Alex thinks you absolutely own in every outfit you wear, but he's never seen you in something so revealing before 👀

You ask him if he likes it, but all he can do is stumble over his words

He can't take his eyes off that cute crop top

You're starting to think maybe he doesn't like it, since he can't seem to find anything to say

But finally he manages to tell you it looks great on you

It's not much, but you're starting to pick up that he may be a little shy in your presence while wearing such a cute outfit

He smiles and walks up to you, "Um, it looks really great, actually heh"

His hand caresses your hip and and nuzzles your check

"Do you think you could wear it more often?"

You know what?

You just might :)

Naga

He fucking DIES

Seriously, like I headcannon that Naga love a thicc Queen™ soooo hard, like I think he'd short circuit lol

For the sake of some sort of civilized manners, he asks some throw away question like where you got the outfit or something as he walks right up to you

He pulls you in for an embrace to greet you while you moodily answer his question

He's not listening however

Instead, he runs his hand from your hip up to the curve of your bust

The silk of the fabric is cool against his fingers, and they shake a little in excitement

You don't even get to finish your sentence

With a scoff and a roll of the eye, you shoo his hand away and scold him, trying but failing to conceal your laughter

He begs and promises you whatever you want if you let him take you to the bedroom in that little get up

Tsk, naughty boy

Sims

His mouth falls open the second he sees you

He whistles and howls, making you jump a little when you turn around

"Damn baby, that looks amazing on you!"

You tell him thanks, but you're not a big fan of the low rise pants. They show off you tummy to much, you think

He makes a face like he's upset anyone could think that about you, even yourself

Sims brings you in for a hug and he kisses your forehead, arms gently locked around your waist

"Naw, you look gorgeous", he kisses you again, "in fact, come on, lets go show that little number off! Make some people jealous", he laughs

You're not sure, buuuuuut...

He seems so confident in you that you can almost feel confident in yourself

At last you agree and run off for your shoes

Woods

You definitely earn yourself a collection of admirers that night

Weaver

Hoooooo boy

Weaver is about to combust

Unfortunately, Weaver is also Weaver so he doesn't know how to express it

He can't even speak he's so overwhelmed!!

You give him the usual hey, how was work stuff

He tries, but still no coherent words

Thankfully for him, this isn't a total disaster

You know him well enough by now to know he only gets like this when he's surprised

You gesture to your outfit and ask if he likes it

He nods fervently, unable to take his eyes off that little crop top

You roll your eyes and give a little laugh as you walk over to kiss him

"Thanks", you say

He feels inordinately warm under your touch

He gulps, hands a little shaky as he reaches up to touch your waist

"Y-yeah", is all he can manage

Just give him a minute :p

A very similar initial reaction to Sims tbh

"Oooo hooo... Fuck yeah! Where you going sexy?"

You blush and respond that you were actually about to go change out of this, you're just not sure it suits you

Woods has put up his coat by now, but he hasn't taken his eyes off of you once

"What? Why? You look amazing!"

He comes over and cops a little feel of your sequined booty

You jump and laugh a little, while he nuzzles your neck

You're still not 100% sold on it, but you tell him maybe it's alright just for the house...

"Heh, sounds good to me", he waggles his eyebrows at you

He'll encourage you to wear it out if you want to, but he's the jealous kind and he knows for sure you'll be drawing quite the fanclub in a stunning look like that

But it's alright, you can wear what you want where you want ofc

He knows how to fight :)

[tennessoui]

this is probably too many prompts lol but uhhh obikin: #6 meeting at a coffee shop au; #24 literally bumping into each other au; #40 exes meeting again after not speaking for years au (i'm a sucker for breaking up and getting back together again lol); #42 star-crossed lovers au; #48 meeting again at a high school reunion au

hi!! you probably forgot you sent this at all and I wouldn't blame you in the slightest. I'm pretty sure someone else already asked for 24, 40, and 42, so I wrote #6 instead! warnings for this one: bittersweet in that both anakin and obi-wan are sad, also the author is sad, also this takes place in the midwest in america (this is the first fic that is obviously set in america!!! wow!!)

6. Meeting At A Coffee Shop Diner AU (1.9k)

“Have a seat anywhere you want,” the hostess tells Obi-Wan without looking up from her phone.

Obi-Wan blinks and then looks around the deserted seating area. “Thank you, uh.” She’s not wearing a name tag.

“Angel’ll bring you the menu and take care of you, thanks for coming in,” she says, glancing up at him and then away.

Well then. Obi-Wan reminds himself that customer service isn’t everyone’s strong suit, that she might have had a rough day, that he’s here for the quick food on his way through town, that his ego isn’t fragile enough that he needs to be led to a table with a smile.

The restaurant is almost completely deserted. There’s two truckers eating their weight in bacon and eggs at the counter, and a family of four seated around a table, resolutely picking at their food instead of talking to each other. And then there’s Obi-Wan.

He chooses a booth by the window, one that overlooks the absolute nothingness of midwestern American scenery. If he cranes his neck, he can probably see corn.

God, Obi-Wan’s sick of seeing corn, and he’s only been in this part of the country for a few hours. He needs to go right through most of it to get where he’s headed. He’s not sure how he won’t die of boredom.

The thought sends a pang through his chest. It’s too soon to think of death even in an offhand way. He taps his fingers on the cover of his leather journal, before a line of dark brown under one of them catches his eye. He studies his hand critically.

It’s been two days since the funeral. Surely he wouldn’t still have grave dirt under his nails. Surely things like that wash away eventually.

“Hey,” a voice says from in front of him. A man is turned around and kneeling up in the booth in front of Obi-Wan’s, leaning over the garishly red vinyl of the empty seat with a menu clutched in one hand. His hair is short and dark blond, an undercut with a long fringe settling over his forehead. He has a nice sort of smile, one that looks genuine but doesn’t touch his eyes. Obi-Wan notices how long the man’s neck is and how predominant his collarbones appear in the loose white shirt he’s wearing, before he forces himself to focus only on his face. “I’m Angel,” the guy says, passing over the menu. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

Obi-Wan accepts it gingerly. It looks like something that’s perpetually sticky. “Water is fine,” he says politely. “Thank you.”

“Will do,” Angel salutes him and ambles away. Obi-Wan watches him go before shaking his head to rid himself of any sort of thought, and opening the menu.

It’s standard food fare, of course. Breakfast options served all day if anyone were to come in and request them. Lunch and dinner options are also served all day, probably for the same reason: a diner like this can’t afford to turn anyone away, even if they want a hamburger at nine in the morning.

A glass of water clinks down onto the table next to him, making him look up at Angel, who’s looking at him curiously.

“You ready to order?” he asks, even though Obi-Wan is still very much looking at the menu and it’s also only been a few minutes at most since Angel gave it to him in the first place.

“Do you have any suggestions?” Obi-Wan asks politely. “I’ve never been here before. What’s good?”

“The water,” Angel says and then laughs like he’s said something funny. Obi-Wan finds his own mouth curling up at the sound. Sometimes people’s laughter is contagious, like a yawn.

And then Angel says, “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No,” Obi-Wan admits. “North of Boston.”

Angel whistles, like Obi-Wan has said something impressive. “Boston, huh? What are you doing all the way out here?”

The pit in his stomach intensifies. He does his best not to look at his nails and the grave dirt that might still be under them. “Driving,” he finally says. “And are you...from around here?”

Angel’s eyes grow distant for a second, and when he focuses again on Obi-Wan, they’re cold. “Born and raised,” he tells him flatly. “Never got out.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan doesn’t know what to do with the sort of bitterness in Angel’s tone. It complements his own well enough.

“If you like eggs, I’ll put you in for the house special omelette,” Angel declares suddenly, all business again. “It’s four eggs, tomatoes, peppers, cheese. The usual.”

“What makes it special?” Obi-Wan asks, closing his menu and setting it down on the table in front of him.

“For you?” Angel drawls, “I’ll watch the cook to make sure he doesn’t get any egg shells in it,” and then he winks, holding out his hand.

Naturally, Obi-Wan shakes it. Naturally, Obi-Wan realizes a second after feeling Angel’s warm, calloused rough palm against his own that the man had meant to take the menu from Obi-Wan.

He can’t remember the last time he’s blushed this red, but he is absolutely regretting everything about this road trip. God, he’d pay money just to be able to leave now.

He should get in his car and drive back to Boston. It had been a stupid idea to come out here anyway, a result of stir-craziness and a desire to outrun the death of his father.

And now look what he’s doing. Shaking hands with his handsome waiter, as if he isn’t thirty-nine and perfectly aware of social norms.

Thankfully, miraculously, Angel laughs and this time it sounds real. “It’s okay,” he tells him, reaching out to pick up the menu.

Luckily for everyone involved, Obi-Wan finds it very easy to laugh at himself. “Well. It’s nice to meet you, Angel, I’m Obi-Wan.”

“I’ll go put the order in,” Angel says, “Obi-Wan.”

He’s back within five minutes, sliding into the seat across from Obi-Wan. So much for no eggshells in his omelette, but he can’t bring himself to be disappointed. There’s something magnetically fascinating about Angel. He’d like to know more.

“So you’re driving?” Angel asks, picking up a thread of conversation from several minutes ago. “Where are you going?”

“I was thinking of Alaska,” Obi-Wan says. “I’ve--I’ve always wanted to go.”

“You’re driving from Boston to Alaska?” Angel whistles, raising his eyebrows in shock. “I think the gas money alone would cost me two months of work.”

Obi-Wan shrugs. It’s not like he makes much himself as a teacher in Massachusetts. “My father was a lifelong gambler,” he discloses without really knowing why he’s telling this to a stranger. “He came into a bit of luck near the end. A bit of a fortune as well. And when he...died, I inherited it and his house.”

Angel touches his hand softly. “I’m sorry,” he says. “When did he pass?”

Obi-Wan huffs out what might be a chuckle. “A week ago, actually. It’s summer break in Massachusetts--I’m a teacher--and I suddenly had nothing to stay for, for a bit. It was either leave for Alaska or find some other way to cope.”

He runs a hand--his free hand, the one Angel isn’t touching--over his beard as he gives the man a rueful smile. “Dad always wanted me to see more of the world.”

“My mom was the same way,” Angel leans forward to tell him, as if it’s a secret. Obi-Wan feels like it is a secret, that there’s something delicate and fragile in the air. Something that matches whatever emotion is filling up Angel’s eyes. “Always telling me to leave, go get famous, go get happy, come back and tell her about it.”

“You didn’t?” Obi-Wan asks, his chest tightening at the thought that the man before him could be unhappy.

“I couldn’t,” Angel sneers, looking out the window and propping his chin on his hand. Some things must be too close to the heart to tell someone to their face. “Mom got sick. I wanted to get out, I was so close. Graduated high school, packed my stuff. I was going to go to California. To Los Angeles, really make it big.” He rolls his eyes and scoffs, as if there’s something inherently funny about the dreams he must have cherished for so long.

“Then mom collapsed going down the stairs. Just passed out in the middle of the day. Doctors told us she was sick. Then life became all about treatment plans and monitoring symptoms and getting the money for the medicines and I never left. Got a job here when I was eighteen years old, right before I graduated high school. It’s all I’ve ever known, I guess.”

“And your mother?” Obi-Wan asks, mouth dry and heart all tangled up in itself for this stranger man, for Angel with the hard, sad eyes.

“Died a year and a half ago or so,” Angel says flatly like he’s repeated the words so often in his head that the truth digs no barbs into his flesh. Obi-Wan knows that voice is a lie. How often has he looked in the mirror this past week and told himself, ‘Qui-Gon Jinn is dead’? He can’t imagine a year and a half would make the pain go away.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan says seriously, reaching across the table to touch Angel’s hand this time.

Angel shrugs but doesn’t pull away. “Is what it is, I guess,” he says. “I’ve made my peace with it. And the fact that I’ll never leave this godforsaken town.”

“You could,” Obi-Wan points out hesitantly. “You could leave tomorrow.”

For a second, a wild and previously undiscovered part of Obi-Wan wonders what it would be like, if Angel did leave tomorrow--with him. If they got into the same car and headed to Alaska together and Obi-Wan wasn’t alone at the wheel and Angel wasn’t alone in this town. If Obi-Wan could look over at the man in the passenger seat, asleep against the doorway as they crossed into Canada.

Obi-Wan wonders. Obi-Wan aches.

“I could,” Angel says, laughing once. “I guess I could. I guess I just can’t think of a good enough reason to.”

There’s a call of his name from the kitchen, and Angel stands and stretches, checking the time on his watch. “That’ll be your omelette, sir, which is perfect timing considering I’m off shift as of five minutes ago.”

“Thank you then,” Obi-Wan replies, ignoring the pang in his gut at the knowledge he won’t be able to keep talking to him. “It was nice meeting you, Angel.”

Angel’s face grows dark for a second as his jaw clenches. “That’s not my name,” he finally says, scratching at his neck with one hand. “That’s just what they called me when I started working here. Angel, like Los Angeles. Cause I told everyone for weeks this was a temporary thing, you know? I’d be going to California soon as mom got better. Guess they knew better than I did.”

Obi-Wan has never wanted to kidnap a grown man away from a place more, so he hides his hands under the table instead. “Would you tell me your name then?” he asks, wondering if he’s overstepping but needing to know too much to censor himself.

“It’s Anakin,” his waiter says, sticking his hand out, no menu to grab.

Obi-Wan takes it gently, turns it over, and cradles it between both of his hands. “Then it’s nice to meet you, Anakin.”

Maybe, he thinks as he picks at his omelette and watches Anakin shoulder his way through the front doors of the diner before disappearing down the street, maybe he can stay a day in this nowhere town. Just an extra day.

Yes, he thinks, taking a sip of his water. He’ll try the pancakes next.

[violetnotez]

Its Chirstmasssssssssssssssssssssssssss!!!! I finished this up all last night, so I hope this is at least coherent! 

This is for the BNHA Hangout Christmas Collab! Here is a link to future masterpost for the fics for the event!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

Shoto x reader | one shot

Word Count: 1.5k+

Warnings: cussing

Synposis: When Shoto realizes you’ve been particularly lonely without him during the holiday season, he decided to get you an extra special gift

the music collection | buy me a ko-fi! | requests open for haikyuu+jujutsu kaisen

｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

“Shoto-do you really have to go?”

You asked, a pout on your lips as you gazed at your boyfriend.

You were still cuddled up in your shared bed, the heat from Shoto’s skin already dissipating out of the sheets.

You pursed your lips, sitting up crossed leg as You watched him slide each button of his shirt sleeve into their slots, his washed, bi colored hair slightly wet from his shower.

“You know it’s not fair to look that good and then just leave,” you gave him a fake, stern look, earning a small smirk from the man.

He continued working up the shirt, looking sleek yet-well-delicious.

Shoto was just too handsomr for his own good-sharp jawline, perfect skin, piercing bi colored eyes, not to mention his amazing body….sometimes you had to wonder how you were able to get such a flawless man to end up with you.

He finished with his other sleeve, peeking a look at you as he slicked his hair back with his right hand, the strands mixing and framing his face perfectly,

why’d he have to look that good?

“It’s not as if I want to leave, dear-but I do have work,”

You cuddled deeper into the sweatshirt you were wearing, your hands dissappearing in the sleeves.

“But you’re always working-you cant take one day off?”

Shoto chuckled at your obvious neediness, making his way over to where you were sitting. He leaned across the bed to be in front of your sulking form, brushing a piece of your bed head from your face as he laid a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Evil doesn’t take a day off love,”

“Why do you always have to be so-so stoic all the time,” You giggled, playfully placing your hand on his chest and pushing him back.

Even though you and Shoto had been living together for over a year now, it never ceased to amaze you how much the man worked. After working at an agency after UA, Shoto had been incredibly busy-and being the #3 hero, you could see why. If it wasn’t a late night call, he was patrolling, interviewing sidekicks, training, teaching students on their hero studies, interviewing with magazines….he always had something to do.

You couldn’t get mad at him though-he had warned you in the beginning, but you were also accustomed to the hero life as well- well, somewhat.

You had gone to UA to be part of the hero suit course, and had become suit designer for the top heroes (hence how you met Shoto). You witnessed day in and day out how difficult it truly was to be a hero, even if you weren’t one yourself, so you didn’t mind when Todoroki was gone all the time. Yes, it got lonely at times, especially during the holiday season, but you made sure to keep a smile on for him.

“Don’t forget, I did take Christmas off,” Shoto gave you a small grin, his bicolored eyed searching to please you.

You smiled back, your heart thumping out of your chest as you poked him gently in the chest.

“After I asked you too,” you corrected, a teasing tone in your voice.

-And thank god too, I would have so lonely by myself,” you tried to chuckle at your remark, making the situation light.

Shoto knew you too well though-something about your voice didnt sound as happy and light as before. When you joked with him, your laughs were more cheerful and your smile was brighter-but something about you right now felt strange...as if you were holding something back from him.

Shoto’s grin turned into concern, his digits cupping your cheeks gently and guiding your eyes to look at his.

“Have you been feeling lonely lately?” He asked bluntly, your eyes growing wide.

Man-you couldn't hide anything from him.

You chuckled nervously, looking to the side, guilt beginning to fill your chest.

“I-I, no, it’s fine, really, I was only kidding,” you chuckled, your voice taking on a higher pitch.

“You don’t seem to be kidding,” Shoto bite the side of his lip, trying his best to make eye contact with you, “if you want to tell me something, you don’t have to be afraid.”

“Be afraid of the number three hero-“ You rolled your eyes playfully, a soft smirk on your lips, “-never.”

Shoto gave a small grin, worry still in his eyes. He knew something was strange about you lately, the way you seemed to be always craving for him. He hated to admit it, it boosted his ego somewhat to have you were so desperate for his touch- but he knew it wasnt healthy for you to be always missing him.

With him being a pro hero, he had quite alot more duties than most could imagine- which sadly left little for him to indulge in his own personal life. Shoto felt deeply lucky to have someone like you who understood his busy schedule, never batting an eye when he had to cancel yet another date or leave you by yourself on countless nights...but it still left a gnawing sensation of guilt sitting in his stomach.

“Im fine Shoto,” your voice broke into his thoughts, your tone gentle and sweet like a sun kissed cloud, “really.”

Shoto sighed, his thick lashes fanning his cheek. You were stubborn at times, especially when you wanted to reassure him-which only affirmed that you really werent feeling all that great as you said you were. But Shoto didnt want to push it any further- maybe you were really okay, and he was overthinking it….and he was going to be late if he didnt leave soon-

“Go kick some ass for me, kay?”

you gave him a wide smile, placing another quick kiss on his lips.

Shoto blinked a few times, a rush of adrenaline filling his body as he felt your skin against his. His lips tingled from the agonizingly quick touch-he took it upon him to give you a deeply intense kiss, the rush making you breathless.

Shoto pulled away, his eyes having the rarest glint of mischief as he stared back into yours

“Of course love,”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

“Ya ready Shoto?” You grinned, your body snuggled into your comfiest pair of pajamas and your fingers warmed by a hot cup of cocoa.

Christmas Day has finally came, and thankfully, Shoto kept his promise-he would be staying the whole day with you with no interruptions.

You were just so excited to finally have one day to selfishly love your boyfriend, and on a holiday too!

The room almost felt surreal-it was early morning, the Christmas tree you two decorated light up like a Star, class Christmas music playing in the background, homemade cookies littering the apartment in a sweet aroma and the room in a romantic warm haze of lights.

It just felt so unbelievable perfect and comfortable, Shoto looking sheepishly excited and nervous.

“I think you should go first,” you smiled up at him as he sat down next to you, black coffee snuggled into his hand (in a DynaMIGHT mug, of course gifted to him by the hero himself).

Shoto bit his lip, seemingly trying to hide a smile as he set his mug down on the coffee table.

“Not to be rude love,” he grinned, his hands gently grabbing a large box from under the tree. The paper was a shiny golden hue, snowflakes on the paper reflecting like glitter from the lights on the tree. He slide the box against the wooden floor, being strangely gentle with the contents.

“But my gift cant wait.”

Your eyebrows were knitted together, a confused grin on your lips.

The box was pretty big-what did he get you now?

Shoto never seemed to give you endlessly expensive gifts, having no concept of what was considered fancy or exorbitant- trips to places you could only dream of, hefty amounts of clothes and jewelry, merchandise from your favorite shows...hell you had to talk him out of buying you a car one time-this guy would drop anything to get you whatever you wanted.

And that made you guilty as hell whenever he did-so what did he give you this time around?

Your mind was racing as you looked at the box, trying to read whatever he was thinking about on his face.

“I swear to god Shoto if you bought me that expensive gaming system-“

He chuckled at your obviously guilty face, shaking his head as he smiled.

“No, no it’s nothing like that-“ he said, giving you a mischievous grin, “I think you’ll like it much better than that.”

You blinked a few times, your mind going completely blank.

What could be better than a PS5, Xbox, or Switch?

You looked down at the box, feeling strangely nervous as you obeyed Shoto’s wishes, slowly opening the top lid….until it rustles.

The box.

Moved on its own.

You squeaked out in surprise, your hands slamming the barely opened lid back down and looking at Shoto for help.

He had never seen you look so adorably confused in his life, a rosy hue on his cheeks as he looked at you with a loving expression.

“It’s okay,” he whispered reassuringly as he wrapped his hands nervously around yours.

You felt him guide your hands up, you both now lifting the lid off the large box.

Shoto took it and placed it gently on the ground, sitting back to watch you look into the box.

The box rustled again, your mind so utterly confused….what could make a box do that?

“Shoto I-“ you tried to ask, but all he did was nod to the box, signaling for you to just look.

You did as you were told, getting on your knees to peer inside…

A gasp left your lips, your heart beating out of your chest as you looked inside at the sweet little baby kitten playing with their bowl of yarn in the box.

“Hi baby,” you cooed in awe at the little baby, your hands scooping them out and snuggling them to your chest.

They were so soft and warm, their fur as white as a snowball with rosy pink paws.

“Oh my god-Shoto-you really didn’t- are they really-?” You were in such a state of shock, you couldn’t seem to form any coherent words as you looked at your sheepish boyfriend.

“I-I didn’t know exactly what to get you...but after seeing how much you missed me throughout the day, I thought it was fitting to get you a companion for when I’m gone,” he smiled, his digits nervously fidgeting in his lap as he waited for your approval.

You petted the little creature on your chest, it’s big doe eyes staring at you with such confusion you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Shoto…it’s perfect,” you smiled at your boyfriend, leaning in to plant him a kiss on his lips.

You giggled at his expression, clearly not expecting your show of affection as his cheeks turned a fiery red.

“I-I’m glad to here that,”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

© Violetnote 2020

None of these characters or shows are my own, only the storylines and narratives I create are mine. Copying, stealing, plagiarizing, rewording, or using my storylines in other media, claiming to be your own, or reposting without my consent is not allowed.