#i am ever so slightly less tired right now

[icehot13]

the worst part of deadpool fics is the ACTION why does he have to be a SUPERHERO action is HARD

[on-the-clear-blue]

Dead Man's Diner pt 4

"THOSE FUCKING BITCHES SAM!" Danny shouted as he stormed into his apartment, slinging his backpack off by the door as he toes his shoes off.

Rounding the corner of the hallway, Danny was met with Tucker, shirtless with only a pair of plaid boxers on, staring at him with sleep glazed eyes, he had a box of cereal in one hand, and a bottle of oat milk in the other, raising the bottle in a salute, Tucker stuffed a handful of cereal into his mouth before taking a swig of the milk, holding up a hand to stop Danny from speaking as he chewed, only letting his hand fall before he spoke.

"What?"

"The Bats are fucking assholes!"

Tucker looked back at the bottle of oat milk, sighed and placed it back in the refrigerator, chucking the box of cereal on the counter, Tucker grabbed Danny by the shoulders.

"Of course they are Jerks Danny..." his grip tightened as he started to shake the Halfa, "I have ten deadlines and 5 missed calls, I really want to geek out right now about you meeting the local heroes but I really don't have the time, so yes, jerks, tell me about it later okay?"

Danny phased through the tough grip on his shoulders, letting out a giggle as he watched Tucker fumble as he no longer had someone to help steady himself, "I did yell specifically for Sam, Tuck so you can't get mad at me! Go huant the Wanyetech building, I know for sure those dudes are way more dead inside than I am!"

Getting a groan from his friend at his dead pun, Danny continued into the apartment, snatching Tuckers cereal box off the counter as he went to sit in the living room.

Spotting Sam typing something on a lap top, her big over the ear headphones blaring as he flops down next to her, which thankfully was enough for her to notice him.

Offering g the box of cereal to her, she sent him a tired smile as she slipped the head phones off and took some of the fruit flavored rings, "Hey there Deadstuff...how was work?"

Danny sent her a grin, "Well, Clocky decided to throw me a bone and I think I got this? He is a little bitch boy that sends me all over the place but this time it was a dined, Lunch Lady taught me how to cook." Pasuing to stuff a new handful of tasty fruity goodness, Danny spoke around the cereal in his mouth "Cookin' ish so much more cool when da food isn't trying to kill you"

Slapping Danny's arm as she rolled her "Don't eat with your mind full and tell me what got you so riled up" Sliding her laptop of her self she tucked her knees up before stretching them out over Danny, who was already going off on his story.

"Wait wait! You had Nightwing in you're restaurant and you didn't get me an autograph?" Same shot Danny a scowl, who at least had the decency to look sorry

"I was going to but they fucking dined and dashed Sam! Even when I was actively Phantom, I never, ever just left a bill!"

---

Dick knew that perhaps eating the food was a slightly bad idea, given the look B gave them when him and Tim pulled into the Cave.

He was standing there, arms crossed, thankfully cowl down, what made the sight infinitely less intimidating was Damian doing the same next to him, his head tilted to look down at them and perhaps standing on his tittpy toes a little bit.

Dick wanted to coo at the father son bonding, but remembered he had to act at least a little chastised at the moment "Yes I am sorry B, It was my decision to head in, there was no outward danger so we just took a chance."

Wincing at the gruff grunt he got from that Dick powered on, "I will write a more detailed report, but personally if anything wrong it's likely that the kid working there is Meta? I dont-"

"He can't be meta! He is very clearly a ghost Dick!" Tim interrupted already flipping through some notes he had made on the way back home, "its the only explanation...or he is a 5th dimensional Imp with a passion for cooking but I really hope not those guys suck to deal with..."

Dick nodded at that, but had to say some thing foe his own superfan imp "Nightmite is a chill dude helps sometimes with cases back in Bludhaven!"

Giving a sigh, Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose, "No mites, no metas, no ghost, go to Medbay I am running blood tests on what sweet hell you have ingested."

---

Bruce ran the test again, sure that it was wrong, praying that it was wrong.

TEST COMPLETE

TRACE LAZARUS WATERS DETECTED

Underneath was lists of chemical make ups of the samples Tim took and his sons blood, there were varying levels through out the food samples, some lighter but others were heavy on it.

What was stumping him was...it was nearly perfectly pure, the pits naturally over time get polluted, with the dirt and sediment that falls in, and with the various amounts of bodily parts and fluids that are dipped in it.

But the trace amounts Bruce was finding were a better quality than Ra's own personal pool, not the one he dips in to regain his youth that the LOA make a ritual out of, no the privet one in the Alps that was clear as glacial water.

It didn't make any sense to Bruce, who would be spreading Lazarus water around? Ra's would not simply share his secret pure stash...

Lost in thought, Bruce sat back glaring at the test results.

---

"And after I thought I was giving great service, they fucking left, no bill, no tip! I didn't even get to see Nightwings ass as he left! People say it's a godly experience! I was robbed!" Letting out a huff Danny shot Sam an incredulous look at her sudden burst of laughter. "Sa~am, this isn't funny! Never meet your heroes! I am taking this to Twitter! They shall know my fury!" His words only served to make Sam laugh even harder.

Stifling a grin Danny took out hos phone, a old busted thing that was more ducktape and prayers than actual technology, but dear go's did it still work.

<@i-haunt-spirit-holloween

[@.realwing @not-that-red-robin.real yall are toxic twinks came in to my workplace and fucking dined and dashed 0/10 Nightwing has a flat ass.]

Hitting send, Danny put his phone down, choosing to let the nights happenings go past his mind and just hang out with Sam before showering and finally going to bed.

---

Tim was hunched over his lap top, going frame by frame of his body cam footage, he *needed* to figure this out, it was like an itch in his brain that he would go through bone to get through.

His work payed off as he clicked forward another time, his feed went static before it showed a blurry blue blob in place of the diner! Proof! It was there!

Jumping at the sudden bang of his bedroom door being thrown open, Tim whirled to around to see Dicks distressed face, standing up, Tim prepared for the worst, something happened. Bruce was dead agian it had to be-

"TIMMY I AM A TWINK AM I??" Was Dicks wail as he flopped down on Tim's bed.

Letting out a shuddering sigh, Tim looked longingly at his laptop before closing it, "Dick, what the fuck."

Rolling around on the bed, Dick finally looked up at Tim "Littlewing sent me a tweet and...ugh just look!" Thrusting out his phone as he spoke

Pasuing at the mention of Jason, Tim  looked down at the screen and froze

"Holy shit...we forgot to pay didn't we...fuck Jason is never going to let us live that down."

Tim still remembered the first time he witnessed one of Jason's famous "make Bruce spend more money" rants about tipping.

It was glorious.

Tim now realized he would be one of two that was likely going to have to face it next.

"UGH?? You focus on the money and not the other parts? Tim I was called a toxic twink with no ass! This is a declaration of war! I have never been so offended!" Dick sat up, eyes narrowd while Tim opened up the tweet on his own phone.

"The comments agree Dick, I am sorry, you now have a flat ass congrats and welcome to the club" Tim said dryly, trying to go to the posters page, since it was clearly Danny who posted it.

Only the app crashed when he tried to. And again when he tried to a second time, and his web browser crashed when he tried opening it there

Tim was baffled on what was happening while Dick lemented on his bed before deciding to hack it later.

<@not-that-red-robin.real

[@i-haunt-spirit-holloween super sorry about that send me venmo and I'll pay with tip]

<@i-haunt-spirit-holloween

[@not-that-red-robin.real Fuck that face me like a coward bitch bet you wont]

<@not-that-red-robin.real

[@i-haunt-spirit-holloween...bet]

---

Somewhere in a safe house in Crime Ally, Jason let out a little giggled as he scrolled through the comments on the funniest post he had found in a while, Jason was surely going to have to speak to Timberly and Dickiebird about paying their bills but right now?

He was kicking his feet watching Dick have a public meltdown as Nightwing.

Finally, he wouldn't be the only one who had to retake the Bat Media course.

How was he supposed to know doing peace signs next to a person he just shot wasn't allowed?

[luveline]

spoilers for spider-man: across the spider-verse below

please don’t read any further if you are avoiding spoilers

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel hops dimensions expecting a new family, and a new life. he’s not expecting you —featuring a tired miguel and his confused but adoring wife. or, miguel gets the comfort he so desperately needs. requested here. fem!reader, 2.5k

tw. gun mention/no graphic scenes

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel seems different when he comes home that night. You've loved him for years, you know his face. He looks slightly younger and older at the same time, impossibly so. He looks like he has bad news and he doesn't want to tell you. Something harrowing. How else can you explain his expression? 

You stand up from the dinner table. "Hey," you say gently. "Is there something wrong?" 

He isn't convincing when he answers, "What? Uh, no. Nothing's wrong." 

"Something looks wrong." 

You step in front of him and lift your chin. Usually, he'd look down with a smirk, or at the very least a smile, but he seems weary. You lift your hand to his cheek, pinching it between your fingers without malice. 

"Smile, handsome. You have a lovely smile." 

He smiles. His lips part just slightly. "You… you really love me. You're happy." 

"We're happy," you correct. "Me, you, and Gabs forever, right?" 

"Gabs?" he asks. 

"Don't start with me. Gabriella's a mouthful. A beautiful mouthful," you concede. "I still think we should've named her Sofia. And yeah, Miguel. I love you. Really really. Don't forget it." 

You make him sit at the kitchen table. It's a selfish manoeuvre; you want him to sit so you can actually reach his hair. Your husband is the tallest man you've ever met. 

"Did you get a haircut?" you ask, running your fingers through his hair slowly. He shivers at your touch, and tilts his head back in question. "You did. That's such a betrayal, my love. I've been cutting your hair for going on six years now, I'm suddenly not good enough?" 

"You're good enough," he says. He really sounds so strange. 

"I'm joking. Miguel, if there's something wrong, you really need to tell me. I can make it better. Well, I can try." You bite your lip, unnerved by his quiet, solemn air. 

"Am I being weird?" he asks.

"No," you say, worried he thinks you're judging him. You never would. (He's being really weird.) "Of course not, you're just quiet tonight, that's all. Did you have a bad day at work?" 

"I– I got mugged. On the way home from work. I forgot the– the milk." 

"You what?" you ask, eyes widening in shock. Miguel's kind of gigantic. You've always said that you pity the fool who tries it, but apparently he's less hardy than you thought. A mugging explains his weird behaviour these last five minutes, at least. "What happened? Sweetheart, are you okay?" 

You take his face into both hands. He has dark circles under his eyes and a scratch along his jaw, but he seems unhurt. You suppose being attacked would age you instantaneously too. 

"Miguel, are you in shock? Should I take you to the hospital?" 

"I'm okay. I just feel strange." 

"Are you sure?” He nods hurriedly. You purse your lips. “I'll make you something warm to drink, that'll help. As long as you're not hurt, right? Did he take your wallet? We'll have to cancel your credit card." 

Miguel catches your shirt before you can go too far. 

"Hm?" you hum in question. 

Miguel visibly deliberates. His eyebrows lift ever so slightly. "Could I hug you?" 

The hurting and worry you have for him intensify before falling on the back-burner. You can shove your own feelings aside easily if he needs comforting. 

"I don't think you have to ask me," you say, offering your arms. 

Miguel is usually a short but meaningful hugger. You've hugged so many times and in what feels like every place on earth, and he's such a tall man that even if he doesn't mean for them to be, his arms are all encompassing.

It surprises you that this hug is different. He's tentative. When his hand falls to the small of your back it slots into place, and you can feel his relief like a palpable thing. 

"You’re okay," you say, your lips at his crown, your legs between his.

He's keeping space between you, and you don't like it. You press yourself as close to him as possible, your arms behind his shoulders, cupping the back of his head. Soft hair tickles your palm.

"Was it scary?" 

"Was what scary?" he asks. You don't mention his little sniff. He's smelling your hair. 

"Being mugged? Did he have a gun?" 

"Yeah, he did." 

"Oh, I see. There's no shame in being scared, you know that?" 

"I'm not scared. I wasn't scared when it happened. I just wanted to come home to you." 

You frown. His admission is like a barb in your chest, aimed true for your heart. "I'm so glad you did," you confess against his forehead, a murmur of sound. "So, so glad. I don't know what I'd do without you." 

You kiss his head three times in a row. The last kiss lingers, his arms slackening around you. 

You pull away, not wanting to smother him. Whoever's watching knows he's had enough of you these last few years. 

"Where–" Miguel clears his throat. "Where's Gabriella?" 

"She's in her room. Call her." 

You're hoping time with her will bring him back into focus. He's clearly more affected by this than he's willing to say. You don't know how you feel about it. Terrified, because you could've lost him. Euphoric that you didn't. You'd had this funny feeling all day long, and it's weird, you’d felt that something bad happened, a moment at the sink with Gabriella singing in her room, the clock ticking on the wall. Miguel late, but promising to bring the groceries you needed home with him before dinner. 

"Gabriella?" he calls up the stairs. You watch from the stove. 

You'll grab the pan and make him some hot cocoa. Just as soon as he stops looking scared. 

"Daddy?" Gabriella asks back. She's audibly ecstatic, and her footsteps are a stampede from her bedroom. You can see her from the kitchen when she gets to the bottom of the stairs. "Dad, pick me up!" 

"Oh, right," Miguel says, leaning down to hold her. 

He pulls her with all the grace of an elephant to his chest, and she nearly chins him. 

"Woah, careful." 

"Dad, you're super late. Mom said I can yell at you for being late." 

"You can yell at me, if you want to." He gives her a curious look. "I'm sorry for taking so long." 

Gabriella tilts her head to the side, dark hair shifting. She's a gorgeous little girl and her dad can't withstand it, melting as you hoped he would, the taut string of his back finally cut in two.  

"I don't want to yell at you," she whispers. 

"Good, because I don't want you to yell," he whispers back. 

Gabriella leans back in his arms and giggles thickly. He almost drops her, and has to readjust his hold on her back. 

"I'm so happy you're home!" she cheers, bringing her little hands up together from her chest and thrusting them out like fireworks. "You work too much! I thought doctors was s'posed to make everyone better and go home." 

"I'm not that kind of doctor," he says. 

You turn from where you've brought cocoa powder and milk to an emulsified simmer on the stovetop and beam at him. It's your favourite thing in the whole world when she mixes it up. Ever since she found his ID card with DR. written clear as day before his name, she's been under the impression that he works at the general hospital. Alchemex might break medical thresholds, but it is far from a hospital. 

"Are you having hot cocoa with your dad?" you ask Gabriella. 

She gasp in excitement and lists toward you. Miguel almost drops her for a second time. "Yes, oh my gosh!" 

"Well, come and sit. What mug?" 

Gabriella can't decide on what mug she wants; there's the orange cat with too many whiskers, there's the black one with bright white stars. After some deliberation, she decides on her and Miguel's matching daddy-daughter mugs.

"You're having some too, right?" he asks you. 

"Don't I always?" you ask. "Though I do want to protest the mugs. Where's my mug? Don't I deserve number one mom?" You kiss the top of Gabriella's head where she languishes in Miguel's lap, before placing their hot cocoa down far from her arm's reach. "It's hot." 

Miguel doesn't touch his. You blow cold air at Gabriella's and dip your fingertip into it periodically, content to spend some time with them both in amicable quiet. Gabriella just loves him to pieces, and she leans back in his arms with her eyes closed, basking in his closeness. 

She squints at you with one eye. "Dad?" 

Miguel doesn't answer. You nudge his foot. 

"What?" he asks.

"You're not doing the thing." 

"The thing?" 

You frown. 

"Yeah, dad." She huffs and curls his arm manually across her front. "Please, I want the kisses." 

He looks at you, completely lost. You're feeling similarly confused. "She wants you to kiss her hair," you say, wondering if perhaps he's suffering from stress related amnesia. 

He leans down carefully and kisses her hair. It's not the usual enthusiastic kiss, and he doesn't bother blowing in her ear after. 

Gabriella glares at him. "My ear!" 

"Blow in her ear," you mouth. 

He blows gently into her ear. She shivers, shudders, and laughs up a storm. 

When the cocoa's been drunk and the mugs washed and put away, Gabriella races upstairs, promising to return with a storybook and the drawing she made earlier in the day once she’s changed into her pyjamas. Miguel looks less lost than he had. In fact, he looks normal. The warm drink has put colour in his cheeks, and his daughter's cuddles have done their job. He's relaxed. He's forgotten the fear of the mugging, you're almost sure of it. 

You waver beside him. "Can I sit with you, or am I too heavy?" 

"Why would you be too heavy?" he asks. 

"You always say I'm too heavy," you say, sitting down on his thighs. They feel solid, a little different from usual. Miguel works out, but this is strange. He must be more tense than you thought. "It's your worst joke." 

"I'm sorry. I won't say it if it upsets you," he says, his voice rough and low. 

"Who said anything about that?" He's never called you heavy to be cruel. 

"Sorry," he apologises again. "I think all the excitement today messed me up." 

You spread your fingers wide across his chest, his heart beating a surface below. "It's okay. You don't have to react any one way…" You rub the tip of your nose against his jaw lightly. "I'm so glad you're okay. I had this weird feeling like something bad happened to you, you know?" 

Miguel laughs and coughs at the same time. It borders on being distressed. He's really worrying you. "You did?" he asks. 

"Mm-hm. But you're okay." You work hard to sound sure. 

His hand slides between your legs, fingertips digging into the soft inside of your upper thigh, though it doesn't stay there. He pulls away, looking flustered. "Sorry." 

"For what?" You blink. 

"I don't know." 

You laugh and press a kiss to the column of his throat, your nose squished against him. "I was thinking we'd watch that new movie tonight, with Harry Woodson, but it has guns and stuff. Would that still be okay?" 

He puts his hand behind your ear and guides your head back to look you in the eye. It's a familiar touch. He looks like himself again, though you truly are offended by his haircut. Maybe something happened at work and fried it off. 

"You're really something special," he says quietly. 

"How so?" 

His face softens with your flirting tone. "You're kind. You're so kind. I've never met someone like you." 

"What are you talking about?" you mumble. It's your turn to feel flustered, jellified by the earnestness lining his features. 

"You're sweet, and soft, and so pretty," he says, matching your tone. He's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time. 

You understand the feeling. Sometimes you look at him and can't believe he's your love. 

"Soft," you repeat. "Are you trying to say something?" 

"Like that. That joke. You don't even sound mad." 

"You don't have to be so amazed. I've been like this since we met, haven't I? I'm hardly ever angry with you." You follow down from his eye to his jaw with your knuckle, tracing a tear he hasn't shed. He's spun you into thoughtfulness, and more than that —reverential fondness for him aches in the very centre of your stomach.  

"I must have some good luck," he says. 

His near death experience has inspired a wave of sappiness. 

You lean in until your forehead touches his, giving him time to close his eyes or lean away if he wants to. 

"I love you," you say simply. "You're not lucky, you're amazing, and all this good you see in me? I see it in you, O'Hara." You huff a laugh, breath fanning over his top lip as you steal a wonky kiss. You pull back. "You're sure–" 

Miguel kisses you. His hand flies to the back of your neck and his lips are eager, his head tilted to one side to accommodate your nose. He deepens the kiss and it's a mess, really, nothing like his usual kisses, no practised ease, nor confident touches. His fingertips push at the hairs lining the nape of your neck as though he's not sure what to do with his hand. It's like kissing him for the very first time. 

It's not a bad kiss. 

You kiss back slowly. You're the steadying constant to his hotheadedness, in kissing and in everything else, pulling time into an endless stretch of his mouth under yours, his body heat seeping into your skin. 

The sharp point of a tooth catches your bottom lip. You gasp into his mouth and flinch away from him. 

"Um, ouch? What was that, handsome, did you get your teeth filed to spikes?" you ask, probing your lip, a flood of giggles slipping between your fingers. 

He looks at you like you've lit the sky one star at a time. 

"Sorry," he says. "I'll be more careful, I swear." 

"Sure," you laugh. "Well, you'll have to be more careful later. You promised Gabriella you'd read her the Wishing Tree, and she's expecting a performance. Voices included." 

He adjusts you in his lap with more strength than you knew he had. "Will you help?" 

You'll always help him. He doesn't even need to ask. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!

[san8ny]

Intermission

Ellie Williams <3

Synopsis: Ellie and you haven’t spoken since highschool, you two never really that close. One day, the all-star hits you up upon getting kicked out. You down to help her steal from her own childhood home or nah?

w.c: 4.1k / warnings include: Ellie is a bit rude in the beginning, some Joel slander, she’s just hella uptight, mutual pining, kissing, she makes out with your hooha, but it’s hot. ;-;

“Am I even doing this right?” you mutter down at the pocket knife you had angled, poorly sharpening it’s blade with the edge of the worn-down whetstone you and Ellie happened to find upon arrival to Joel’s cabins.

She gives you, and both the board, a once-over before turning back to the picture frames lined up on the wall, “Sure.” Rolling your eyes, you throw the knife onto the counter, “You know, I didn’t know he had such a swanky place.”

“Yeah. Reeaal swanky.” She huffs, scrunching her brows in annoyance when the clatter of the knife you’d just thrown doesn’t quiet down immediately, “You find the checkbook yet?”

Ah, the checkbook. You almost forgot she recruited you out here to practically rob her adoptive dad blind.

I mean, fuck, had you had the luck of being in her place— living so lavishly, you’d let the bastard yell at you all he wanted.

Dragging your finger tips across the wooden counter, careful to not splinter them, you push yourself off where you were leaning, and walk towards the stairs, “Doesn’t it make sense for him to like, I don’t know, have it upstairs?”

Ellie runs a hand down her tired face, letting out a huge sigh before turning towards when you stand near the railing, your foot already placed on the first step. Why didn’t she think of that before? She gives you the green light, following behind as you ascend up the stairs. She finds her breath hitched and her eyes closing in further irritation when you suddenly stop, her face parallel with your lower back due to the step-to-height difference.

“Is that you?” You say, a smile stretching on your face as you point towards the meek framed photo that hung above the handrail, depicting a pre-teen Ellie in a science museum tee, Joel slightly crouched behind her with two thumbs up. You almost would have missed the small smile she has in the snapshot had you had nor squinted, “Didn’t know you had a dimple. Do still have it?” You ask, turning down towards where she stood.

“No. Now move.” She huffs, bumping your shoulder as she takes lead, climbing up the rest of the stairs. Rude. Nonetheless, you follow her as you enter into the main hallway. How the hell was a cabin this big? you’re only in it for, like, less than a season— Right? Not like you would know, the fanciest thing you’d ever seen was the time you went to Dina’s Bat Mizvah down at the community center and got to see a chocolate fountain, granted it was years ago, it’s the closest thing you’d ever experienced comparisable to ‘upper echelon.’

She seemingly notices your distant stare, harshly bringing her palms together in a large clap thus pulling you out of your thoughts. Clearly taken aback, you meet her blank gaze, “You take the attic, i’ll take the main bedroom”

“Where—

“Down the hall, to your left. You’ll see the ladder cord hanging.” She cuts you off, already walking away and into one of the many doors you could only assume led to Joel’s bedroom. Okay! This should be easy!

It was not easy.

On your hands and knees, you cough uncontrollably from the dust that blocks insulation. It errupted when you pulled the damn ceiling ladder cord down. All this money and they couldn’t fucking dust it once in a while? Wait, when was the last time this place was even entered? That was the question you asked as you slowly tip-toed up with wide eyes. immediate, you’re met with U-haul boxes, plastic dinosaur figurines and some comics.

In that moment, you smile a bit as you kneel on the floor, grabbing the Stegosaurus and T-rex as you gently knock them against eachother, playing with them.

Though you swear you were being satirical when you began toying with them, you couldn’t help thoughts drift to a younger Ellie playing with these like you were. She’d probably always call dibs on the Carnivore, giving the other person an eyeroll when they cry at how unfair she was being for never giving them a turn at being the razor-bearing predator. ‘Skill issue’ she’s also snicker when the kids run back to their parents.

When you finally put them down after some time, you walk over to one of the several moving boxes. Some tattered, some dirty and some even still closed up. It was wrong for you to have been snooping around her childhood home, sure, but she’s also stealing from her own said home— so you can’t be that bad. Reaching into the closest one near you, you pull out a small velvet belt. One that stroke resemblance to the ones you’d see in the cheesy karate-cop movies your dad had been a fan of. Another, and another and shortly, you have a large array of belts, with at the very bottom of the box containing a small plaque of achievements, ‘Ellie Williams’ printed in fine, gold lettering, ‘Graduate from the Jackson institute of Martial Arts.’

Of course, she was a prodigy at everything. What wasn’t Ellie good at? She’d been your highschool’s valedictorian a couple years back when you both were about to graduate, given the golden chance to speak at the commencing, well, was. That was before passing the chance onto the second runner without a second thought; she claimed she wasn’t the talking type and just casually went about her day, like it wasnt the opportunity most students would have killed for. Students like you, who spent all night and day to even make a dent in the social stratosphere that was highschool.

Given now you both were in your early 20’s, you still hold admiration for Ellie. Maybe that’s why when she randomly called you to hangout after years, you didn’t question it, or even second guess yourself.

How long Ellie had been standing there watching you coo over her baby pictures was something you, and both she couldn’t answer. Originally wanting to smack you on the head or scare you, she couldn’t help but lean against the attic wall, eyeing the way you carefully place her achievements down like they were the most important thing to you.

You’d always been like that since Ellie can recall meeting you. Always so nice, so sensible, always the first one in the room to make light out of nothing. You definitely would have been burnt on the cross or something for just how smiley you were if you were alive back in that day. Ellie found you interesting in ways she couldn’t configure why.

She and Joel had a falling out a couple of weeks ago. He cut her off of all financial support, insisting she get a job or a higher education like her peers were. A few profanities and insults were thrown around, leading eventually to her getting kicked out. Funny. Though she never cared about being embarrassed or the opinions of others, she did feel some sort of seeping humiliation. So, with the money she had, she booked a hotel and called you up. She chuckles when she remembers the first time she sent the address, your hesitancy to type back as you get the wrong, but expected idea,

‘ .’.im not fucking u lol’

‘wth no I got kicked out’

‘OHHH srry!!! D: ‘

The chuckle that hears behind startles, your grip seemingly loosening on the picture frame you had in-hand meeting the floor in cruel shatters. Quiet consumes you both with your hands shaking erratically, “O-oh my god? i’m so sorry, I don’t even know why I did that. fuckfuckfuck!! It was an accident. I can pay for that! Like, i’m so so sorry—l” you frantically plead with her, your eyes alternating from her and the bloody gla—bloody?

“You’re bleeding.” Ellie sighs, softly reaching forward to grab your wrist, pulling you around the mess you caused. You didn’t even realize you were until you felt the blood drip from your ankles down to your shins, staining your bleach-white socks in scarlet droplets.

“I messed up, Ellie, i’m really sorry.”

“Can you like, stop apologizing? It’s fine. Didn’t even know when that picture was taken anyways.”

Somehow, her words worsen your hysteric state, you sinking down back onto your knees as you sob. Oh god, she didn’t even know when that picture was taken meaning it’s that long ago. Ellie stares at you clearly with a panicked look, not really knowing how to comfort you— or anyone for that matter. Again, you were more of the sensible one between them, even if you two hadn’t exactly been all that close growing up in the same town, school and similarly interconnected friend groups. ‘What would you do?’ So, Ellie slightly crouches down, her squeaky sneakers noising as she awkwardly encircles her arms around you. Clearly taken aback by this gesture, you peer up from where your head was buried inbetween your knees and instead, at Ellie, who’s usual laid-back expression is replaced with furrowed brows, her eyes not meeting yours and some reddening on her cheeks. “Y-you’ve seen the picture frames around, man, I see myself all the time. It’s fine.”

You sniffle abit before giving her a coherent answer that isn’t just hiccups, “Im sorry.” She sighs before slightly reaching up to pat your head, “Please stop crying, I think i’m more off-put by your ugly cries than you breaking shit.” That tugs a laugh out of you, pushing Ellie away as she matches your grin. “I mean look, you ruined my tee.” She wasn’t lying, you look down to her white tee and it was absolutely soaked with shed tears belonging to you. You gently run your thumbs over her chest in a bad attempt to wipe your embarassingly smeared mascara off, but it only recieves a small whine from Ellie, who backs away immediately. You’re left confused when she gets up, clearing her voice. “We should continue searching.” With that, she leaves the attic, leaving you up there and with multiple. How could ones demeanor change that often? You almost noticed the sensitivity in her chest.

“Pfft, softie.” You mutter, a smile on your lips as you follow her down. Eventually, Ellie is the one to find the book, it’s placed inbetween some folded jeans. ‘Fuck yeah..’ She bites her chapped lip as she flips through it. Enough pages for her, and a good forged signature she’d mastered when he’d be too lazy to sign her field trip permission slips— guess something did pay off. You stand there with crossed arms, feeling a bit squeamish all of a sudden, like the thought had hit you finally, Ellie is moving away. She notices you when she lifts her gaze up, puzzled with your stance, “I told you it’s okay, the picture frame can be replaced.”

“I don’t want you to move away.”

“What.”

“I won’t repeat myself.” You shake your head defiantly, standing your ground when she towers over you, all these years and when you two have somewhat of a bond, she wants to move away? And maybe yeah, you had it coming, being easily-attached to somehow who’d you’d only started recently hanging out with. “What makes you think I care?” She mocks, looking at you like you’d grown an extra head, she’s almost astonished with your stupidity, why would she have dragged you all the way here to just, stay? Something with the way she says those words churns humility deep in your gut, who were you to even admit that to her? You flail around your arms passively as you back away, a croak in your throat, “Just something I said. You’re a cool person.”

“Right, well, I got the checkbook meaning we can get the hell out. Seeing this place almost makes me want to not drain Joel’s pockets.” She yawns, throwing you the book before retreating into one of the previous rooms, though before, she asks, “Say, where’d we put the keys?”

..

Who had the keys?

Comically enough, sirens began to faintly hear in the back, and your gaze locks onto Ellie’s, “Fuck— find the keys.” She says, running back into the room. How petty was her dad to call the police on them? Well, petty enough to have alarms laying around incase his thieving daughter comes around. You, instantly begin to eye around for them, palms growing clammy at the aspect of being arrested now comes into plan as the sirens grow closer. Finding them, you call out to Ellie who seemingly was already on her way once she heard the jingles of them, “Out the back. You’re gonna run, and not turn back, ‘alright?” She whispers, grabbing you and running towards the kitchen door once the front door is knocked.

Once it’s kicked in, Ellie manages to get out with a groan, definitely a bruiser, but nonetheless, they make it out of the area without getting caught. While she hasn’t broken a sweat yet, you were coughing up a storm like you were earlier, eyes tearing up as you let them out in fits. She gently rubs your back, looking around for where their parked car was, it was a good idea they’d parked so far away- granted it was flawed in multiple ways, it came out in their good favor. Once you’d caught your breath, Ellie hums, “You know where we parked?” You nod, looking around, “Yeah. near the marked tree, you smeared my lipstick over it..” She scrunches her nose to prevent a loud laugh from coming out, your sadness over lipstick being funny to her, “Right. That way.”

You both find the car and enter, ellie starting the car as she backs up and maneuvers around the various tall trees it was parked around before getting onto the main road. You don’t say anything for the majority of the one hour ride, those 60 minutes feeling like the longest ones to Ellie who’s gotten use to your talkitive habits. So when she asks you if you want aux, you shake your head— deflating her mood. She sighs, lighting up a cigarette at the light and rolling down the window. You just lean your head back and rest your eyes, emotions running through that you couldn’t even seem to process. Tiredness, embarrassment of her flat out saying she’d never stay for you, getting almost booked by the police, and just ones you didn’t want to acknowledge at all. You wanted to just, go to sleep.

Ellie, on the otherhand, feels nothing but anxiety gnawing at her. Why does she care so much whether you talk to her or not? She’s never even liked talking, and somehow, the thought of never speaking to you again after this makes her feel nauseous. Would you text her? Call her? Visit her if she left? Would you buy the nearest train ticket if she told you one day to come when she settles into her new place? Or would you just move on? Would you move onto some cooler girl in town to befriend? Some other girl you’d look up to, some other girl who would show you the hidden gems around town you’d been asking her to, Fuck— some other girl you’d give all your affection to. Ellie swerves the car, and had it not been your quick-wit to pull the steering back, she might have crashed the vehicle.

Pulling over, she places her head lightly on the leather wheel while you stare at her in bewilderment, “Are you crazy?! What was that?!” You say with a slight twitch in your eye at her loss of control.

“I don’t want to move away.”

“You literally have to, we’re on the side of the road and your emergency lights aren’t on so.”

“I’ll stay.”

“You can’t, that’s like, against the rules. I don’t know, my permit is expired.” First order of business, obtain a license.

“In Jackson. I’ll stay in Jackson.” She mumbles, lifting her head up to stare at you. This feels like a joke to you, like Ellie might just begin laughing at you when you show the tiniest bit of you of relief. So, you just match her stare, tiling your head. “Why?” Why? What do you mean why? Ellie wants to scream, why don’t you look happy? She’s staying for you.

“Just..wanted to.” She says after a beat or two, pulling the car back onto the road as she nears your house. Giving a curt nod, you look out the window, your knees feeling wobbly like a teenage girl all over again as you suppress asking questions to the clearly disoriented freckled girl. Once on arrival, Ellie expects you to leave and slam that door but instead, you sit there for a bit.

“My mom isn’t here.” You say, chewing your inner-cheek.

“You don’t have a spare key or ‘sum?”

“No no I do, it’s just— want to come in?” You ask her with big eyes, your hands folded on your lap like a child on their best behavior to get something.

“Did your mom bake that pie you got me last time?” She’s referring to the Cherry Pie your mom made last time you two hung out.

“Is the sky blue?” You say, with a smile, trying to lighten the mood that’ll need more than just that to recover.

“It’s grey but I see your point. I’ll go park, leave the front door open.” She smiles when you nod, skipping out of the car and into your home.

When she does so, and enters your door, she’s met with a warm wafting smell of baked goods. Ellie might gave been fairly thin, but she had a nose on her, leading her to the kitchen. You’ve changed out of your dirty clothes, she notices, you now wearing some small pajama shorts and a tanktop. You’re bent over the oven, grabbing the treats out of the pre-heated oven your mother had likely left them in to retain warmth.

“You’ve got to stop doing that.” You mutter, almost dropping the tray of food while Ellie smirks

“Can’t really promise accepting an apology if you dropped those.” She says, walking on over to where you stood by the kitchen island. Something in the way she says that so..flirtatiously, makes you look back at her twice. “Whatever. Do me a favor, take the plates out while I cut the pieces.” Ellie nods, walking over to the several arrays of cabinets. Though, upon doing so, she notices your refrigerator, decorated in colorful magnets, children’s literature and most of all, a picture of you, and an older woman. You were younger, hair a bit longer than you had it now, and a wide grin with your front tooth missing. You couldn’t of been older than 6, Ellie thinks. Smiley.

“This your mom?” she asks, running her fingerpads alongst the smooth film while you hum, nodding. “Yeah, it’s my mom” You say, handing her a slice of piece when she gives you the plate, “You look alike.” Ellie concludes when you two begin walking upstairs to your room.

It was certainly your room, is what the auburnette thinks as she sits on your bed. Messy bedsheets you never got to make, clothes scattered near your closet and other things you never got to clean up when she’d called you up this morning at such an ungodly time to divulge you in on her scheme,

though now, upon her decision to stay in the town, it seemed a bit for nothing. It’d be a funny story to tell with you. With you, she thinks, watching as you chew the treat and sit on the rugged floor as you flip through TV channels. Eventually settling on some show Ellie never knew was still even airing. She quietly sinks from the bed, onto the floor herself, sitting close to you as your gaze stays glued to the blaring screen, flashes of color reflecting onto your face as each scene passes. Ellie finds herseld staring at you, a person she once found so inconspicuous now becoming the very reasoning she stays in a town she hates so much. Whatever you had the girl under needed to be looked at.

“Do you like me?” Is what she wants to ask, but “Do you have a boyfriend?” is what she settles for.

You turn to her, meekly shaking your head. Since when was she sat so close to you?

Ellie nods, looking back at the show to get you to, before asking another question, “Girlfriend?” You shrug, “I mean, I use to talk to this one girl..”You mutter, before Ellie finds herself furthering it, “What happened?”

You sigh, before pointing a finger, “Don’t laugh.” you glare. Ellie smiles, nodding. “She told me she was straight after like 2 days AND THEN, i saw her kissing on Judy.” Ellie snorts, “No fucking way, Judy the librarian?” You nod, burying your face in a nearby throw pillow.

“I need a drink.” You mutter, getting up and leaving the room with Ellie in it. You return shortly after with a bottle of wine and some glasses. The girl groans as she stretches, “Now you’re talking. Pour me some.”

Eventually, the topic heads in the way of relationships once more, with you two telling each other of your awful sex lives in the majority straight town Jackson was as you sip.

As Ellie tells one, you find your eyes feeling heavy, alternating between her green eyes down to her pale pink lips. You nod, poorly attempting to give the illusion you were following along with whatever she was saying. Ellie, herself, wasn’t all that there but she was better. She’d stopped talking long ago and was just moving her lips with no dialogue coming out whatsoever, seeing if you’d ask why she halted her story. She licks her lips, leaning back as she places her glass down on the nightstand near her— jean-clad thighs spread tantalizingly as your gaze drops to them.

Her years of martial arts and track did her well, you admit, hoping it wasn’t obvious you were ogling the girl.

“Were you mad at me earlier?” you whisper, fidgeting with the loose seam of her jeans as you notice the difference in how she was acting at the cabin, and how she is now. Ellie hums, matching your small voice. “I was more so mad at myself.” She answers you, her hand finding where yours toys with a string, “Not at you.”

You nod, not really having anything to say.

“Can I kiss you?” you finally utter, liquid courage taking over as Ellie thumbs your soft hips from where you sit so closely. She gives you a soft ‘yeah’, pulling you onto her lap. You begin by littering feathery pecks along her jaw, her sensitivity earlier when you touched her chest beginning to make sense when goosebumps begin to arise along her pale skin, her nipples hardening as the hair on her neck stands before kissing her deeply.

You two kiss slowly for a while, finding some rhythm as it slowly turns into something else. You gently gasp when Ellie rocks your hips onto her thigh, making you detach from her mouth and straddle it the way she wants you to. The rough texture against her jeans on your soft shorts makes you huff a bit, face burning up as you grip her shoulders.

“You’re my sweet girl, you can do it.” She murmurs lowly, watching you grind all over her, your slick slowly starting to seep onto her denim pants— all like she wanted. You nod, frustrated to the brim of tears when you can’t seem to fuck yourself on her thigh well. Ellie pushes you down, caging your legs in between her hips as she tilts her head back down, "Seems like you're not the only sweet girl wanting my attention.." She smiles as you moan, the heel of her palm placed directly on your touch-starved mound, giving it just enough pressure and angling to make you whine out a small 'Ellie..'

She gives you finally what you want, sliding your shorts to the side and sighs when she sees just what a mess has been waiting for her.

No underwear?

You attempt to leverage yourself by sitting up on your elbows but Ellie pushes you down, hiking your hips up even more with a singular grasp of your shins as she kisses directly on your puffy pussy, your messy sap smearing all over her lips before giving you a grin,

Oh, you'd pay her what she was worth alright. Maybe returning Joel's checkbook can wait after this.

[All credits to the owner of the picture above!! i got it from popipa on pinterest]

[iceunhie]

distraction

⟨ wc. 447 ⟩ jiaoqiu likes to think you aren't a good distraction, but you both know that's a lie.

a/n: wrote this at 1am low on sleep and not proofread. i apologize for the person that i am for this stupid fox

“do you enjoy tormenting me?”

currently behind the kitchen counter of your shared home, the smell of the delicious broth permeates the entire room, spices and herbs that blend harmoniously to create a tingling experience for one’s nose, the sun’s warm rays by the window bathing the room in the golden afternoon light.

although admittedly, you cared less about that stew, the view and the smell and more about how jiaoqiu looks very good in an apron, his hair in an uncharacteristic ponytail, the sight of which makes you smile until your cheeks hurt. he can be so unhealthy for you. can a foxian even be that pretty?

“mm, take a guess.” you drawl, and jiaoqiu's face turns as red as his hair when he feels the weight of your body pressed against his back, your chin stabbing his shoulder. “is it working?”

you're clinging to him like a trotter is to its mother, and jiaoqiu's heart is beating erratically fast right now, threatening to burst out of his chest and explode all over—not a pretty sight. the incessant wag of his tail does nothing to help him either.

“i'll mess up the stew, baobei.”

“you're the most renowned medicinal chef in the yaoqing. you'll live, qiu-er.”

“but it's for you.” because everything he does, he does to devote himself to you. to love you, to keep you by his side, because he will never, ever get tired of this—of you.

“yeah, and it doesn't have to be perfect.”

“it's your favorite—i have to make sure it's according to your preferences….” which means it has to be perfect. (he'd do a disservice to you otherwise.)

“but i love anything you cook, jiaoqiu. i’m literally the embodiment of the term ‘the way to one’s heart is through the stomach.’ even if it's garbage, which it's not, by the way, it's the thought that counts, you know?”

he laughs slightly at this. you always did have a way to keep his spirits high. “still, you’re… watching me.”

“and i don't see how me watching is a problem because….?”

because i can't focus with you here, jiaoqiu thinks, though he keeps it to himself. because you make him feel warm and unable to comprehend anything but you. (the urge to lean into you, to touch you, is maddeningly difficult to control.)

“...you're a distraction.” he settles for that instead.

“a good one, i hope.” a very good one, to be exact.

you turn your head and press a light peck to his cheek, and warmth fills jiaoqiu from head to toe. though he raises an eyebrow and rolls his eyes, he leans in to feel your lips for a little longer.

the stew tastes a little more delicious this afternoon.

as you can see i wrote this with my heart not my head so i apologize for how clunky this is lol

@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.

[cherryrikis]

ONE LESS LONELY GIRL - 008 ! accidental but pretty intentional

PAIRING idols riki x fem reader

SYNOPSIS fans always point out the chemistry between you and riki, and it only continues to grow after you become mc’s together on music bank. but as your feelings rise, so does the tension. and people begin to notice, so you try not to let riki know how you feel. but unbeknownst to you, he feels entirely the same way.

authors note halfway point! i love this smau w my heart but i rlly wanna start a new one ☹️ this ep tho was so rushed bc i have hella hw uh oh

previous <> masterlist <> next

‘can we talk? meet me at the rooftop garden’

hanni reread out loud, constantly going over the text displayed on your phone as you stared blankly at danielle.

“what am i supposed to do?” you let out a groan, falling down to lay flat on the floor of the practice room.

“finish practice then meet him. duh. easy as that.” hyein replied as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

“yeah, no shit. but i mean, what am i supposed to say to him? we haven’t spoken in over a week since it happened. plus we have music bank tomorrow.” you mumble in response.

“then you have to figure it out before tomorrow.” danielle encouraged as she pulled you up off the floor. she straightened out a few loose strands of your hair, before cupping your cheeks. “come one. one more hour!”

65 minutes had passed, and you found yourself taking the stairs up to the rooftop. when you stepped out onto the concrete, riki was already sitting on a bench, waiting.

“riki?” you softly called out to get his attention. “hey y/n.” he smiled, before gesturing to the spot next to him.

“so.. what’s going on?” you asked, reaching out for his hand. riki gently intertwined your fingers as he turned to face you.

“i’m sorry. for everything. the cafe was my idea. we shouldn’t have gone somewhere public, and now i’ve dragged you into this whole controversy.” he let out all at once, running a hand through his hair.

his face was just as tired as yours, but his eyes remained puffier than ever. you noticed it as you examined his face when you first sat down. the dating scandal had a huge impact. clearly, the feeling was mutual.

“oh, my poor riki..” you pouted. “hey, it’s not your fault. i’m just as involved as you are. none of this is on you. if anything, it’s that barista’s fault for exposing us.” you grimaced as you thought back to her post.

“i guess youre right. yn, you always know how to make me feel better.” he joked, lightly nudging your shoulder.

“guess it’s my specialty. i wish we could go out again though.”

“next time. when you’re officially mine and we can tell the world, that’s when i’ll take you out to a nice restaurant.” riki smiled widely.

“can’t take me out if your laces are untied.” you chuckled, gesturing to his sneakers.

“oh? i didn’t realize. i’ll tie it later.” he waved it off.

the two of you stayed up there for about two more hours, talking and catching up on everything you missed out on before, riki decided it was time to go back.

“let’s go? we can drive back together.” he suggested.

“i think we should go separately, just to be safe, since it’s not over yet. besides, i brought my car, so i cant leave it here.” you replied, feeling slightly guilty.

“yeah, no problem.” riki nodded, but you could tell he was still disappointed.

you stood up, walking towards the stairwell as riki followed from behind. you stepped about 20 paces before you felt yourself crashing down onto the concrete.

riki had ‘tripped’ over his shoelaces, before he ‘accidentally’ fell onto you. you felt him grip onto your waist before you both rolled over onto the floor, which just so happened to end up with his lips on top of yours.

you gently pushed him off with a groan due to the impact from the fall (and the uncomfortable position).

he let out a pathetic apology as you winced once he realized his left elbow was digging into your stomach. there was definitely going to be a bruise. or so you thought. but it was still quite painful.

“sorry.” riki said with a smug look. you squinted at him as you read his expression. he was sorry, for hurting you. not for kissing you.

you stared blankly at him, before standing back up, to grab your fallen belongings. “i’m just.. i have to go.” you muttered, not looking back at him as you hurried down the stairs.

he remained on the floor where you left him, thinking about whether he went too far or not.

TAGLIST (italics = couldnt be tagged) @hannicorpse @luvvhaerin @chaevibes @en-verse @ren2jay @choppedballoondetective @heartheejake @imanalien143 @istglevi-gotmesimping @yndairy @eleanorheartschishiya @lonelylandofan @gweoriz @jaemified @onlyhyunjin @softpia @frecklesbrownies @riksaes @wensurr @rikifordmiami @brideslit @ant-onie @yumilovesloona @aeminju @hoonics @catecita @clampclover @rei4sunoo @addictedtohobi @rikidaze @baekxo07 @xotyla @melancholy-z @rikisgeef @jung1w0n @tocupid @onlyseung @i03jae @iheartshopping @istphanie @queenriki7 @academiq @1117promises @nctislifue @haechansbbg @rairaiblog @nabia-bia @pkjay @lixiebokie @hiekoo @r1kizerr @d-dilemma @kingofthekards @iilwji @hoonatic @woorcve @enhaz1

[love-hs28]

You're the strongest person I've ever known

Summary: JJ’s had another fight with his dad and needs some comfort and help cleaning up.  CW: same stuff that’s in the show gn!reader Routledge!reader, but doesn't really effect the story Hurt/comfort & fluff 1.3k words Posted on: 5-24-24

a/n: This is my first post ever, lmk if you guys like it! Been wanting to start posting my stuff on here for a while and figured what better time to than now!

It’s almost 2 am when you hear a knocking on your window. You had been lying awake since you got home from the party and already know that it's JJ, so you get up to open it. You slide the glass open with a smile and he climbs in.

“Hey Jay.”

As he’s setting his foot down, he loses his balance a bit and you have to place your hands on his shoulders to steady him. It’s already obvious that he’s a bit drunk. 

“Whoa, hey, careful.” You hear him groan as he attempts to straighten up, and he hobbles over to flop down on your desk chair. You’re not new to this, and know what this behavior usually means. 

“Had a fight with my dad. I’m fine. Just wanted to come over.” He groans again as he adjusts himself to sit more comfortably, and you sigh and come over to kneel in front of him.

You tilt your head down to get a better look at him and gently put a hand on the side of his face. The room is too dark for you to see any damage that’s been done, and he hisses at the contact. 

“Shit, sorry” You quickly take your hand away but he grabs it and holds it against his chest. He sets his forehead against yours and takes a deep breath, knowing what comes next. You whisper, “Can I see?”

He does a combination of shaking and nodding his head and reluctantly looks up, but avoids eye contact and looks just to the right of your face. There’s enough light on him now to see a black eye forming and the cuts on his lip and cheek.

You let out a shaky breath and squeeze his hand. It’s not hard to imagine what the rest of his body looks like. “Oh, Jay,” you whisper, and he shakes his head and squeezes your hand back.

“I’m alright, y/n. Just a little roughed up. ‘s good for building character, right?” You know he uses humor to cope and your heart breaks at the sad smile on his face.

You stand up, not letting go of his hand, and lead him to your bathroom.

You softly pat the counter next to the sink as a signal for him to take a seat, and he does. You open the bathroom closet and grab the first aid kid, careful to keep quiet so as to not wake John B. You can see JJ watching you with a loving but tired look in his eyes that causes you to slightly blush.

As you’re setting up the supplies on the counter he gently puts a hand to the side of your face, halting your movements. He smiles drunkenly and uses his other hand to brush the hair from your face. 

“You’re so beautiful” he whispers, absentmindedly playing with the hem of your pajama shorts.

You smile and gently rub his thigh. You whisper back “So are you,” and gently kiss his less-hurt cheek and get back to setting up the supplies.

JJ starts swinging his feet, accidently kicking the counter and earning a soft glare from you, which he just giggles at.

“Yeah, but you’re beautifuler. Most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” he sighs, still staring deep into your eyes, and you grab the alcohol and put some on a cotton ball.

“Oh, you’re too sweet” you say, and brush his hair out of his face. “Alright, this might sting a little. You can hold on to me if you want.” He messily shakes his head,

“‘s okay. I’m strong.”

You look into his eyes sadly with a little sad smile, “I know you are.” Regardless of his strength, he sets his hands on your waist preparing for the all too familiar pain.

You gently dab at the cuts on his cheek and lip and he hisses and closes his eyes, trying to act strong in front of you, but squeezing hard on your hips.

“I’m sorry honey, almost done.” You dab a few more times and wipe a few until it looks clean enough. You softly kiss his forehead and he rests it on your shoulder. You can feel him breathing heavy. 

“You’re okay, Jay. You’re safe now, I’m right here. I got you.” You rub his back and he starts to cry a bit. He looks up at you with a shaky lip.

“I’m sorry. I hate that you have to see me like this. I just didn’t know where else to go.” His voice is shaking and your heart breaks as you shake your head and put a hand to his face to brush his hair.

“Don’t apologize. I’m glad you came to me. Come to me everytime, please. Seeing you like this doesn’t make me think you’re weak. It makes me think you’re the strongest person I’ve ever known and I hate that you have to go through this shit.” A tear rolls down your cheek and he gently wipes it.

“Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”

You shake your head and look down to get the bandages. When you look back up at him he’s looking at you with so much emotion that you feel your heart skip a few beats.

“I love you.” He says, and pulls you in by your waist.

“I love you more” you say, and lean into him and hug him close, careful to avoid his abdomen, which you’re 99% sure is covered in bruises. You hug for a minute or two, giving you both the chance to calm your breathing, and you eventually lean back and quickly wipe your eyes.

You brush the hair out of his face again, “Let me get these bandages on you and then we can head to bed, yeah?”

He nods, hands not leaving your waist. After covering up the cuts on his face, you look up at him reluctantly. “Can I.. Could you lift up your shirt? I just want to make sure nothing else needs tending to.”

He slowly nods and lifts his t-shirt up, exposing the bottom few inches of his torso. Your hand immediately comes up to cover your mouth and you choke in a sob as you see the bruises already beginning to form on his stomach. You can’t even begin to imagine how he must feel.

JJ shakes his head and uses his hand to gently guide you to look back into his eyes. 

“Hey. No crying, remember? I’m okay, promise. They’ll be gone in a few days. Week tops. Nothin we can do about it, you know?”

You bite your lip to stop it from shaking and he pulls you in for another hug. You grip onto his shirt for a minute, then he leans back to kiss you gently.

“You look tired. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

You shake your head and kiss his hand. “No, don’t be, I was awake when you got here, couldn’t sleep.”

JJ tilts his head with a concerned look. “Everything okay?”

You softly laugh and shake your head, setting your hands on his knees and looking into his eyes. “You’re sitting here on my sink all beaten up and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

He returns the soft laugh and rubs your cheek with his thumb.

“What did I do to deserve you,” you whisper as you look deep into his eyes and gently rub his leg. JJ looks at you like you’ve just said something crazy.

“You kidding? I should be the one asking that. I don’t know where I’d be without you. You’re my everything. My best friend. My favorite person.”

You try harder not to cry, failing a bit, and share a sweet smile for a moment. You eventually have to put the stuff away, and you take one more deep breath, smoothing your hair and wiping your eyes one last time.

“Alright, big guy, let’s get you to bed, okay?”

He nods, the sleepiness beginning to set in for the both of you. 

You head back to your room and help him get situated in bed, climbing in next to him, careful not to hurt him any further. 

“I love you,” he whispers as he’s falling asleep. “I love you more,” you whisper back, kissing his shoulder and finally letting the sleep overcome you.

a/n: Hope you enjoyed, thank you for reading!! Let me know what you think and if anything should be changed. I might upload some more in the future, depending on how this does! :) 

Also lmk if I should change the POV, like if third person or first person would be better :) I will prob be coming back to edit this every now and then if I find something to change, which is very likely. 

And PLEASE send in any requests if you have any!!

xoxo

[romcomeon]

❝ 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐩-𝐢𝐬𝐡 ❞ Ver 3

╰┈➤ LOVE ME DESPITE IT ALL? | HEADCANON POST

question : "Does this get tiring...?" AKA nondateables seeing their beloved sheep... as a human!

part.s : demon brothers | triworlds | nondateables

pairing.s : Thirteen x MC, Mephistopheles x MC, Raphael x MC [all separately] + a suprise guest

note.s : That took longer than I expected. Seriously, this week felt like such a rollercoaster ride that I didn't think I'd be able to finish this in time— but here we are!!

Fair warning that I have no notes on Raphael whatsoever. I am purely basing these off of interactions that I recall at the top of my head; consider this as another practice round :"DD

Anyhow, hope you enjoy the conclusion to this trilogy! ^^

The sheep's curse returns.

It's been so long, why MUST it happen NOW!? After your family getaway to the human world, no less. Back to square one: memory loss and stubby legs. Everyone came to your aid, albeit more protective than before due to circumstances. New people? New People! You have bonded with them after a while, and while most weren't too overjoyed, you'd say it was an enjoyable-

Oh my for goodness' sake-

The all too familiar poof arises again. But, was it just you or did it hurt than the last- ahh.. You placed your palm to your forehead. Hurts. It fucking hurts. With one eye open, you try and ask for help to maybe Lucifer or- Oh right, they're also in this room.

THIRTEEN ; "Awww!!"

Thirteen is very supportive.

Hm? She stans you all the way, one of your biggest fans! This privilege will surely seal the deal!

Another fangirl added to your roster. You have piqued her interest at the sight of your adorably special soul but-

Girly runs up to you and pulls you in a tight embrace.

Thirteen is absolutely GUSHING over how you look. That hair? adorbs! Any tattoos? Cuties!! More, more, more!!

What's got our reaper even more excited was your soul! Well, so the curse also managed to hide your soul- not literally though it slightly hindered its view.

The first instance she went to check on your soul, Thirteen noticed the white glowing light emitting like dispersed shockwaves; urging to be released to its full glory.

And to FINALLY inspect it with no obstacles? She was beyond thrilled.

Although, she does feel kind of bummed out about it, to be honest.

Thirteen had spent eons crafting and perfecting specialized traps and pranks for the little sheep. Seriously, do you have ANY idea how long it takes to get the measurements right?

Hmph! now she has nothing to use them for!!

It didn't matter how frickin' shorter you are than all of them, you still aren't plushie sheep size!

Hmm.. maybe she should instead use this as an opportunity to conduct larger-scale traps... though that wouldn't just be suited for you.

Unless...

Hey hey human, get ready! Once she gets you, she's got you.

MEPHISTOPHELES ; "So THIS is the human?"

Pft- the nobleman scoffs.

He has seen far greater escapades than the sight beholding his very eyes at the moment.

It's really no outstanding feat.

Truly.

As much as he wishes to brush this aside as yet another antic done by the human, you know that he will never escape it.

You know he will be thinking plentiful of it — though not in any particular light [yet]

You see, this transformation will become the next talk of the school for weeks. By cursed virtue, it felt mandatory to handle this topic and present its own article.

Unfortunately for Mephistopheles, it meant all who are part of the Newspaper Club would constantly observe; asking you questions to publish this latest issue.

Why must he care? Sure publication is necessary for the RAD archives yet he didn't have to think about you.

He shouldn't have to think about you.

Yet there he sat, scribbling through the papers on his desk to get your physical description as accurate as possible. A good headline may do? "The Tiny Lamb Turns Human!" — no. That's not read-worthy enough.

The last time he was ever like this was describing Lord Diavolo's newest outfit during one of the many balls he'd host back in the day. That article reached headlines as people exchange opinions on this "newest fashion trend".

Did he really pay this much attention to your appearance? You? An otherwise useless mound of flesh that's got everyone's attention?

"What did Diavolo see in you?" — whatever it may be, it made sense.

It should make sense. He trusts Diavolo's word for it, and he quotes: "the prettiest human to ever grace this land."

RAPHAEL ; "..."

...? Huh.

Raphael was very curious. It dates back to the first time he encountered you.

Frankly, at the time he had to look down to the ground as he didn't know humans could be so. . .

Short.

But now that the curse had once again faded away [perhaps], he tries to understand what all the others were fussing on about you.

His eyes peer over your form, taking in each and every detail. He has a sharp eye, though once you take a glance at him, you feel as if he's trying to memorize your form.

Don't get too appalled, he does not have a disappointed look on his face.

As much as he's observing, Raphael won't comment on anything. Positive, Negative, none at all — he just stood there quietly. He lets other people do the talking for him.

That doesn't mean he won't give a comment or two asking if you're alright... Well, your face was indeed contorted in horror for a few seconds before you felt the traumatic headache building up once more.

He never understood how people's eyes seem drawn toward your direction. He thought that it almost looked like their eyes were permanently glued onto you.

Well at first he assumed that it's with how cute you were. Luke and Simeon constantly talk about it over at Purgatory Hall, paired with Solomon gushing about his "adorable apprentice" like an overproud mentor.

Now? Raphael sees himself fallen victim.

Ah. You got him.

Hm? Oh! A message from heaven?

MICHAEL ; "Surprise Surprise.."

Such an adorable little sheep. . .

You didn't know—no one did—but Michael had been observing everything up from the top of the Celestial Realm.

He wouldn't say he was curious, but more or less intrigued by the idea of what you looked like. All he received was a glimpse of one of the many chaotic instances that you got yourself into.

Oh my, it was a delight.

A small chuckle escaped Michael's lips. With a snap of the finger, the cloud within the orb dissipates, gone from within the crystal dome.

If you ever meet in the far distant future, Michael has exactly one question prepared for you.

Human, what have you done to them?

A/N: and that's a wrap! Now the Michael thingy was just a bit of a silly idea and to be clear I have not yet played Lessons 40+ of NB so I have no idea what goes there- so that last part is purely for the feels ;v; There won't be a part 4 or further continuation for "Feeling Sheep-ish", so what comes after is now up to the reader's interpretation. Would also like to add that my schedule will be taking a toll for the next few months, so there will be an update in the rules. And this will be the last you will see of this formatting because I'm updating this blog's theme- but hey, now it's series exclusive! How about it? That's all and stay safe whenever and wherever you are ! !

divider/s by @/cafekitsune | artwork by NTT Solmare

[midnightanxietytm]

He takes his whiskey neat

A/N: Look, I think i was possessed while writing this one /j. It was like 1 am and I was procrastination on college work, I dunno what happened but this is the ungodly spawn of my imagination mixed with sleep deprivation, caffeine and stress. Enjoy and don't question it too much

Contents: Ford Pines x reader, pinning (lots of pining), I pictured reader in their late 40s to early 50s so there is an age gap but nothing extreme. There's some plot in those holes. uhhh lots of tension and no payoff because im pretty sure I passed out before I got to that part.

Word count: 996

There’s this look on his eyes now that you can’t quite figure out.

Ever since Stanford Pines came back from the portal, ever since weirdmageddon and the end of that fateful summer, something about him fundamentally changed. There’s contempt, relief, sure, but there's more to it, something that he keeps deep in that rattling metal-protected brain of his.

And god forbid sometimes you just want to pick him apart entirely, figure out every detail, note it down, absorb it, maybe then his mere presence won’t entice you, mess you, so goddamn much.

It culminates, as all events are bound to do, right before that year’s summer vacation, you blame the heat. 

Soos and Melody took a vacation for themselves, entrusting the shack back to Stan’s less than trustworthy hands, just like old times. Ford slips back into the basement so easily you almost follow him; your mind briefly longing for that nostalgia of being freshly out of college, when you and Ford were easily impressed by the oddness of the world.

You were a prodigy; a good ten years younger than him yet still doing your masters while he did his doctorate, and in the same area with similar themes! Back then, you two were just bright-eyed yet very tired academics… Then Gravity Falls presented itself on a silver platter, and Bill followed through.

You were there, on the day of the portal, or at least, almost there, going back for the thousandth time, expecting no answer to your knocks at the door as usual, only to be met with the fallout of something far worse than refusal.

And then he was back, less jittery, less paranoid and less sleep deprived than he was before at least. But there was that thing in his eyes, that inherent distrust, detachment…? You struggled to find the words and if there’s one thing that you as a scientist can’t deal with is a question that goes unresearched.

So it began; your “research” depended on experiment and to experiment, you firstly decided to get close to your unwilling subject. And you go down the rabbit hole.

You find him in the basement, of course. He’s drawing on loose sheets of paper, some of the discarded pieces lay on the floor, and the cd player by his side is playing just loud enough to muffle your footsteps as you approach him by his right side. “Updating the journal?” You ask, nonchalantly, as if you hadn't obsessively turned each page of his journals before, as if your own handwriting wasn’t squeezed in the first ones before his old muse took all the space left.

Ford just hums, raising his chin slightly, but not his eyes, just to acknowledge the question. “Not really, just trying to get some proportion practice. Looking back, some of my work on the first journal was… Not the best.” 

A chuckle leaves your mouth; “If you say so…” You hum, picking up one of the filled out pages that were pushed aside in the table and pretending to look it over as he places his pen down and looks up at you.

“Any advice?” He asks, and once again you pretend to be paying attention to anything but him and his every movement.

“Not really… I think you’re good.” You place the paper back at the table, leaning against it. “Thought you’d be going through your abstract phase by now, honestly.” And you smirk down at him.

He leans back, crossing his arms; “I fear I’m too logical to have an abstract phase, even my craziest dreams have math and science behind them.” And you both laugh, and your curiosity itches more and more every millisecond.

The next words that leave your mouth were planned and inwardly rehearsed, but they come out natural as a summer breeze. “Every tortured artist has an abstract phase, get on with the times, sixer!” It comes out as a joke, it's a test. And suddenly you’re too nervous to stay there, staring at him and waiting for a rebuttal. You push yourself off the table and zipline to one of the bookshelves, reaching towards the back of it, you pull the ‘eureka whiskey’ and the two cups.

He just watches you for a second, then accepts the cup as you pour him one, then one for yourself. 

And it’s truly the eureka whiskey, because goddamn you just found something in those eyes. 

He takes a sip; “Yeah I guess those portal days would do for some good surrealist pieces at least.”

“I can’t even imagine.” You say.

He smirks, lips inches from his cup. “You can’t…” He takes a sip. “That’s the point of surrealist.” You want his brain under a microscope, you want his breath mixing with yours, you want to never see him again, you want to wake up near him every day.

The curse of science is that in the endeavor to figure out the world, the scientist often loses sight of themselves. 

The witty remarks, the planned lines, the psychological strategies, all fly out of you head and you lean back against his desk. He’s leaned further back now and his chair is turned diagonally towards you and he watches with a smile and those eyes. “What did you see?” It’s almost a whisper, because you think he might actually tell you, and that scares you more than anything.

“Too much…” He swallows, sighs, takes a swing of whiskey and rests the empty cup on the desk. “It was very chaotic, honestly that’s all I want to say…” You sigh, pushing yourself up to sit at his desk, and his head tilts as he watches you. 

“I’m glad you’re back.” You settle, even though it doesn’t even come near to all the things you want to express. He smiles, and his eyes travel down, landing on your hands, holding your barely touched whiskey glass. You follow his gaze, and chuckle. “I’m more of a whine person.”

“I know…”

[jsfix]

Late Night Talking

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: You call Jason when you’re having trouble sleeping

Warnings: maybe a bit suggestive but like barely  

WC: 586

AN: this was originally supposed to be something for kinktober but it didn’t end up going in that direction and I don’t hate it. this is the first thing i’ve ever like completely written sooo ahh scary. any and all feedback is very much appreciated i am begging 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 ok bye!

~

It was one of the rare occasions where Jason was home and you were away. A last minute business trip which took you away from Gotham had you missing each other. You were used to falling asleep without Jason, of course, but every time he went out on patrol you would wake up in the middle of the night to the feeling of his arms wrapping around you, warm even after being out in the chilly weather all night. 

You would turn towards him, dazed with sleep, and kiss whatever part of his body your lips landed on before losing consciousness again. Now though, far from home, you still woke in the middle of the night, but, without his warmth, you were unable to go back to sleep. It was the third night of this and you were exhausted. Huffing, you rolled towards the clock on the nightstand. 3 am. 

Jason should just be getting in. He had a tendency to stay out later than usual when you weren’t there to come home to. You felt slightly guilty about calling him now, but the five minutes you had talked on the phone between your getting back to the hotel and his getting ready for patrol left you greedy. You wanted to talk to your boyfriend, even if just for a minute.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Jason picked up on the first ring, his voice tired, but his grin wide while taking in your sleepy expression, ”Why’re you up so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” You gave him a tired smile, “Missed you.” His face softened.

“Miss you too.” He set his phone up on the nightstand, keeping the screen aimed at himself as he began taking off his armor. You watched him as he started with his holsters, then his jacket and gloves. Your eyes raked over his figure, tracing over his scars, his muscles, the bruises you had given him the night before you had left, now faded. He noticed your staring as he pulled off his shirt.

“Enjoying the view?” He asked with a smirk.

“Just checking you for wounds,” you stated coyly.

“Right,” he scoffed playfully, disbelieving.

“Any on your back?” You bit back a smile, keeping up the act.

“I don’t know. Can you check?” He turned his back towards the camera. You hummed appreciatively.

“Just some scratches.” 

“Well, that I can blame you for.” He smiled as he took off his pants, picking up the phone again as he slid under the covers. “You should go to bed, you have an early start today.” 

You sighed. You had to be up in three hours for a meeting, then another right after that, and then a seminar, followed by another meeting. He was right, but you didn’t want to say goodbye just yet. 

“I can’t sleep,” you told him again “I miss you too much. Need you.” You pouted.

“Just two more days.” He smiled at you, though you could see the time apart was also weighing on him. He felt calmer with you around, even if he was out all night. Knowing you were at home waiting for him. He was less likely to get in his own head. 

“Two more days.” You reassured. Your eyes started to droop, previous nights of lack of sleep and the peacefulness that came from seeing him and hearing his voice hitting you. You missed the smile he gave you as you started to fall asleep, barely able to answer his ‘I love you’ with one of your own. 

[cupids-chamber]

KISSING Azul's beauty marks, leaving light peppermint kisses on Malleus's horns, ruffling Leona's hair, petting him, leaving small kisses on each of his ears, Kissing Silver, to wake him up...

GENDER NEUTRAL READER A/N: Is Silver's part, just me showing my inner Silver simp? Nooo-

Leona was settled on your lap, as you fiddled around with his hair.. it would have bothered Leona, but he let you as you pleased, your touch was rather comforting, and stress relieving. It felt as though all his problems would disappear, when he's with you like this.. The soft praises you whisper makes him all soft and gushy inside, a feeling he wasn't quite familiar with.. he hoped you didn't notice.. Leona disliked looking weak.. especially to you.. He'd be beyond embarrassed if you told him you noticed his little grin, and the way his tail would move in excitement, while you pet him.

It was a rather amusing sight, Leona's tail moving around in excitement and his ears perking up and moved ever so slightly, rhythm in sync with all your movements, touches, and compliments. Your praise was the biggest ego booster for this lion.

Leona closed his eyes for a bit, trying to sleep. The way your hands moved, ruffling his hair, every soft touch lulling him to sleep. Yet his senses overloaded, the moment you leaned down, and pressed two soft kisses on his ears, the feeling lingered, as he felt his ears tingle with heat.. He was flustered.. And if that wasn't enough, his tail started wagging aggressively.. He was sure he could hear you giggling right about now.. "What are you laughing at herbivore!"

You entered the room, Azul was working on some sort of paperwork, as always.. Nothing out of the usual.. but your precious octopus, has been rather busy lately.. you were afraid he was overworking himself, It was at this point that Azul noticed your presence, as he turned to smile at you, flashing you a rather tired grin. You sighed, knowing full well he wasn't planning to rest anytime soon.. "How was your day today love?" Azul asked, his voice was less energetic then usual, "It was good.. I suppose.. How about you?" you asked, as you made your way towards him, carefully sitting on his lap, "Your not overworking yourself, are you?" you asked..

"Of course not!" he said, focusing his attention on you, as he slowly moved his arms around your waist, making sure you were comfortable in the position you were in. "hmm, but you should get some rest, K?" you carefully grabbed his face, pulling it towards you, you watched as his face tinted red ever so slightly, as he hesitated to answer.. He never liked lying to you, nor did he enjoy making false promises to you.. "Fine.." Azul complied with a sigh.

"Do you promise?" you asked, moving a tad bit closure, as your eyes stared straight into his. Causing him to grow slightly nervous. He stuttered ever so slightly, no matter how long the two of you were together, he could never grow completely used to the closeness between you two.. "I-i promise"

You grinned, as he finally complied to your words, you pulled him closer leaning in, and just before your lips touched, you leaned down and kissed his beauty mark. "See you later tonight!" you winked as you left a very flustered and tired octopus in his office.. 'What am I going to do with you' Azul thought, as the door finally closed.

You were settled on Malleus's lap, as he rambled on and on, about his favorite subject.. Gargoyles! You were half mindedly listening, focusing more on fiddling around with his hair, admiring his features.. After all, it's not always you get to have such a close up view of the fae prince.. though if you asked you would be able too..

Malleus, went on to explain some random facts about Gargoyles in, in-depth detail. You hummed at everything he said, making sure he didn't feel ignored, when you had an idea.. "Malleus what's your favorite Gargoyle again?" you asked, the question was rather controversial, you know this conversation wouldn't end any time soon.. but.. you had an idea! "Well I quite really have a Gargoyle I favor.. but —" .. He continued on and on about the subject, when you suddenly started rubbing his horns.

Malleus got a bit flustered, the action was rather unexpected, he tripped over his words ever so slightly, if you looked down, you could see just how red the man was. You proceeded to take things up a notch' by coming a bit closer, and leaving soft lingering kisses on his horns. An action, that is guaranteed to shut your poor lover up..

When you were finished with messing with your prince, you lowered yourself down to his level, and gave him a big hug. "Malleus?" you poked him in the cheek.. The man looked stunned and flustered.. 'I guess he's still processing things..' you thought, as you giggled..

The two of you were in your early stages of a relationship, and needless to say your lover is quite easily flustered by your actions.

Lilia had told you that he couldn't find Silver, the two of you had gotten together a couple months ago, and Lilia suggested that maybe you should go out and find Silver, since you seemed to know his favorite sleeping spots well. Somehow that convinced you to go and look for Silver by yourself.

Walking around the forests of NRC, you found Silver sound asleep, leaning ever so comfortably on the tree. 'He looks so beautiful'.. He looked very comfortable.. You almost forgot why you were here! You were supposed to wake Silver up! Though you could have just simply nudged him and called out for him.. you had other ideas... Comfortably sitting beside Silver, you leaned in.. and for a second you paused with your movements. Taking in his features.. 'He looked lovely' you nudged your head, mumbling under your breath to focus.

You leaned in and gave Silver a kiss, Silver was quite sensitive to movement, that seemed foreign.. especially in his sleep. It didn't take long for him to carefully open his eyes, as he made eye contact with you.. "It's time to wake up love.."

© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[ronearoundblindly]

Drabble Birthday Ask!

Reader finally 'catches' the thing Steve's been hiding... it's that he's tired. He's tired, and he thinks it's non-inspiring or embarrassing or a burden, and he has been acting weird to cover for that.

Steeeeeeb!!!! Yes of course some TLC for Stevie. Excellent. Would recommend. 11 out of 10. Always give him the peace and safety! (Don't hate me though; it's just a bit of established relationship fluff!)

I am uncharacteristically skipping the part where you confront Steve about this. Yes, that's right. Remain calm. Ro has passed up the opportunity to write an argument. Hold your applause. WC idk but probably 2k or less (bit of a surprise at the end, too 🤭)

It's so easy.

It's just so damn easy to lose track, to keep going, to repeat. One more conversation. One more chore. One more hour. One more day. One more.

More. Constantly more.

Steve is very good at giving more. He is consistent, constant, incessant, but you can see now that despite his unending strength, your husband can't hide that drawn, fragile look behind his eyes any longer.

Sometimes, that's life.

"Actually, scratch that shit," Tony says with a flagrant point to your face as you chat. "Life is always like that. I know what Big Guy needs, don't you worry. Consider it sorted."

This speed-date style convo tumbles through a ten-second-savoring of tea. You got one cryptic sentence about 'how you're doing' in before Tony perfectly translates your meaning.

For once, more is unnecessary. He knows.

Stark, however, doesn't even have a moment to finish the turn up of his lips in a smile before his watch is pinged.

His eyes focus to the inside of his glasses. "Go for the World's Most Fashionable Hero," he deadpans, wandering off with his mug clasped like a lifeline in his hands.

Yeah, you know that feeling. Wit's End must be as contagious as pinkeye 'round these parts.

Steve's been silent for the last hour of the car ride. He checks the address. He checks the map. He checks the road. That's it.

Music he usually hates has been playing for fifty-one minutes and counting. No reaction.

Clearly, you were right to ask Stark for help.

The gravel drive up to the cabin is bumpy, and Steve apologizes for having to go so slowly.

"Almost there. I think it's--yeah, there. Okay, we're here." Your husband flips the key back and out of the ignition, a stunted sigh forcing it's way past his tight shoulders, immediately opening the door and heading for the trunk. "I'll get the bags. You get the--"

"Steve? Will you come with me for a sec?"

He looks at you--really sets his eyes on you--for the first time since loading the car.

"What's wrong?"

You crunch up to the short staircase to the long porch. "Just come up here, please."

It takes another wave of your hand in encouragement before Steve abandons the small duffels and totes. He's not used to leaving a man behind. He's got a mission. He's supposed to finish the job. Always one more thing.

More. Constantly more. That's Steve's life, and he does it without complaint. Never, ever complaining, even when he should.

His heavy, tired feet fall hollowly on the wood.

"We're starting now," you chirp, excited to surprise him.

Steve tips his bodyweight to lean on the banister, crossing his ankles before crossing his arms, his head down while sneaking a squint-and-blink to try and bounce his energy back.

"Sure, what's first on the list?"

"Oh, no," you correct. "The list is mine. Those are my activities for the weekend. You are here."

His brow furrows. "What? You're gonna--"

"Steve." You gently hold onto his arms. "I mean, you have nothing to do. Not a single thing. And I don't care where you do it, but you will be doing nothing all weekend. Sleep in the bed, on the couch, on the dingy over there, hell, right here on the porch swing. It doesn't matter. It's your rest, but you must rest."

"What about--"

"Nope."

"Or if--"

"Uh-uh, definitely not."

Steve looks slightly panicked. "Dinner?" he tries in a last-ditch effort to be useful every minute of every day.

"There is a bag of stuff that I will be dumping into a crockpot and walking away from, so, no, you can't do that either."

He's still not sure, eyes glassy and flickering about.

"There's fruit for breakfast, veggies and dip for snacks, and we don't have to even turn on the stove unless we want to. Now--" you release him "--I'm putting stuff away and--"

Steve opens his mouth to argue.

"--and not one word out of you. Not one, sweets. Go. Be free. Sleep. Stare at the water, or a wall, or the ceiling for all I care, but you have nothing else to do today. Okay?"

His eye twitches, a half-hearted glare melting into a challenge in his tight jaw.

"Okay???" you prod.

His hands fling out in defeat. "You told me not to say a word," he whines, automatically making his way back down the stairs.

"No bags," you scold.

He whips around, almost muttering.

"No bags." You rush down and past him toward the car. "And I will bring you looser clothes to sleep in."

"You--"

"AH!"

"But--"

"What did I just say, Rogers?"

Now he just looks petulant, a familiar mood in your household.

You stubbornly point to the cabin. "Go on. Git!"

He watches you bring in the mindfully-light bags you packed up for the trip, pouting and scowling in equal measure.

Steve has to show off at least once by snatching up a bit of potato that rolled across the counter in the transfer of dinner.

Instead of thanking him, you shove a t-shirt and thin sweats at his chest.

He fakes an oof of surprise and traps you for a quick kiss before going to change. He does leave you alone for the rest of setting up.

Steve is dead asleep on the deep, two-seater porch swing when you head to the little work shed, his knees bent so he faces in, his forehead buried in cushion to block out daylight, already snoring softly.

You have to hold your hands to your chest so as not to touch him. Tears of joy prick your eyes seeing him relax so quickly.

Steve can follow orders when he wants to, you think with a smile.

In the garden shed, Pepper has all the cool crafting things, and you putz around with some wood pieces and paints for a couple of hours. You walk the perimeter of the cabin to find some nice wildflowers for a table centerpiece, mixing delicate stems of blue buds with expansive wisps of white and little pops of yellow. You attempt to figure out the dingy but decide against going on the water alone yet. Maybe tomorrow.

At no point does Steve move.

When you walk up to the house, fist full of flowers, he's out cold, softly swaying in the breeze as the gusts pick up in the afternoon.

You snack and listen to music in your headphones, doze in the bed after the sun warmed you a little too much, and then wake to the smell of stew.

The beep of the crockpot wakes him.

Bedhead and pillow mishmarks on his cheek look great on Steve Rogers.

Without argument, he washes his hands and sits at the reclaimed wood table.

Steve says only two things:

"Thank you" when you set a large bowl in front of him, and "can you pass the salt?" after he taste-tests the meal.

He reads a book until falling asleep for the night with you, curled with his knees bent again.

He does well.

He keeps resting, multiple times with his book open on his chest, barely to halfway after hours and hours of holding on to the browning paperback pages.

He rests in the bed. He rests on the couch. He rests (again) on the porch swing. Finally, he rests in your lap while you both float on the lake in the dingy.

He rests with you by his side. He rests with you in his arms. He rests even when you leave to do something else. It's exactly what you wanted, what he needed, and how it should be.

Steve mumbles a fair few things, but the most important thing is that none of it is important enough to articulate. He doesn't have to talk. He doesn't have to be heard. He doesn't have to be understood.

He only has to rest, and he's following orders well. He's completing his mission.

It is truly fascinating how close you can feel without words--okay, so you two aren't completely non-verbal for the weekend, but there are no long conversations. After being married for a while, those are not entirely necessary. You know each other too well for all that; Steve simply feels the stigma of being weak and tired from his youth.

He holds himself to a different, impossible standard. He thinks of it as pushing the limits of his serum, as offering everything he has to others, as respecting those he cares for by shouldering burdens. You think it's stupid.

It is the only stupid thing Steve Rogers does.

Now, after days of resting, you're pretty sure Steve knows he was being stupid.

You hope he knows he can ask for help or a break whenever he wants, before he needs it this badly.

To your great delight, Steve gathers up his things that were left around the house, but he leaves the actual packing to you. This is very helpful in keeping the final surprise.

He's watching the water, sitting up in the porch swing for once with an arm thrown over the back, an easy, calm smile stretched across his face, the first you've seen in months if you're being honest.

Steve gestures for you to join him, but you bite your lip and check the gravel drive.

Exactly on schedule, an engine revs and wheels crackle over the gravel.

You wink at your husband just as excited shouts ring out from Tony's fancy car.

"Papa! Papa! Look what Morgan and I found at the beach!"

"I made you a seashell necklace, Momma. You, too, Pops."

Your children race up the porch steps and jump into the space below Steve's arm.

His smile is still easy, but perhaps a little more excited than calm.

More. Constantly more.

But it's not all tiring...

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay

@rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes

[mascdestr0yer]

Paige x royalty reader

Can i be him: Prologue

Knight!paige x Princess!reader

Warnings: reader is a bit if brat, overuse of italics, cursing, paige is jelly

Synopsis: paige can’t help but love you, even though she’s supposed to protect you and she would probably be burned at the stake or banished but, she’d take that risk.

A/N: this is placed during the 1700s but, it’s not going to be exactly historically accurate, only because i want it to give like house of the dragons (without the dragons) x beauty and. the beast (which was placed during the 1700s) bare with me yall.

“YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE,” Paige snuck up behind you, you flinched hard.

“goodness you scared—“ she quickly you off, placing her hand over your mouth and pulling behind the wall. The priest peeks his head out of the door checking the corridor, he then goes back inside with the rest of the royal court.

Paige drops her hand from your mouth with a smirk, “you know, for a princess you’re awfully loud.”

you gasped lightly, taking offense, “am not.”

“yeah yeah, why were you ease dropping on the royal court anyway?” You guys began walking to your sleeping chambers, your feet were now freezing from walking on the bare ground of the castle floors, as it caused less noise.

“my father thinks it’s time for marriage, he was discussing with the king of Héroux, his son Vincent is around my age,” you tone of voice more soft-spoken then ever. Paige’s hand subconsciously balled up into fists as she continued to question you.

“do you like him or something?” She sounded more irritated than she wanted to but, you were to oblivious to notice. you laughed slightly, toying with the ends of your hair.

“no, i haven’t even met him yet,” you smiled, opening the door to you room, paige huffed.

“i have to go, try to stay out of trouble, goodnight, princess.” She placed a hand on you shoulder giving it a light squeeze, her hand then dropped down to her side.

“goodnight, bueckers,” you closed your door, laid in your bed, a smile dancing on your lips when you faded into your slumber.

Your father and king Héroux has set up an errangment for you and prince Vincent, now here you were sitting outside with some boy. He brought you flowers which you greatly appreciated.

“—yeah, i heard you’re quite the artist,” he smiled, he hand lightly brushing up against yours.

“i mean, i wouldn’t use the term artist,” you returned the smile.

“oh yeah? then what do you call it?” he positioned his body more in direction, his gaze never leaving your face, you were so distracted by the boy you didn’t even notice the lady knight watching from afar.

“a girl who dabbles in artistic expressions, often.” it came out as more of a question than a proper answer, Vincent snickered at your uncertainty.

“artistic expressions? Hm, i’m pretty sure you do a little more than dabble.”

When the Héroux’s finally left, you were still outside, it wasn’t too cold nor too hot, just right.

“you two got along pretty well, huh?”

“hm?” you turned around facing the voice, it being no surprise when you saw paige, in almost full armor, her helmet in her hands.

“you two got along pretty well,” Her tone more harsh as she repeated the question. you paused to think of a good answer.

“i mean, i guess, we had a lot in common considering we both are next in line,” You wondered why she was acting strangely, i mean, you know she works for your father but, you thought of you two friends.

“cool,” she nods, gripping her helmet even tighter.

“cool,”

“i have to go—train and stuff, i’ll see you around.” she walks off, without a single goodbye.

i hope you guys liked it, give me feedback yall please, taglist: @aerinaga @danc1ngqu33n @darlindayss @secretlifeofmarii @aavasstuff @h34rtsformilli @ajcuteee @naipoohh @theendofevangelionnn @mrsengstler @thebignunfun @tired-duckling @julienbakerloverr @mrsarnold @slut4uconnwbb @abbyswif3 @svudetective @liviiyyy @hellokittyfeenie @paigeslanyard @latenighttalkinqwp @ashortyluvsports @kittykatz1227 @seraphicgrll @4rt3m1ss @paulamdm

[azrakaban]

Mattheo Riddle Headcanons Pt 2

A/N: This part is solely focused on how Mattheo would be with kids! My own interpretation, you may disagree, if you do oh well, too bad <3

Names mentioned, change if you want <3 (I picked relatively rare names to make it easier)

- Girls: Aella, Enya, Callie (2 & 1/2, 5, 8)

- Okay starting off strong, I'm a firm believer that this man is terrified of children. They're like small curious little balls and he's scared. Can't explain it. They're so easily harmable.

- But imagine you've been dating a year or so and he's chill with you, obviously children haven't come up, and you haven't engaged with any, besides the First Years, which are basically just small irritating puppies.

- But then you want him to meet your family. And he's great, happy to do that... then you mention your little sisters. Oh god.

- Trying not to cry honestly, he's scared for his life. Kids are so invasive.

- But he loves you so he'd go along with it, albeit nervously.

MATTHEO RIDDLE WITH YOUR SISTERS

- Okay so it's all fine, you turn up and your parents are greeting him, but then the kids spawn in out of nowhere.

- "Y/N! ENYA STOLE MY DOLL!" Your little sister Callie says, glaring at her twin.

- Imagine him immediately slightly tensing, before you laugh and help sort them out. (Turns out they have identical dolls, and got them confused.)

- They'll then turn to notice this weird, tall stranger who is clinging to their older sibling like bindweed.

- "Who are you?" Enya says suspiciously. Imagine him legitimately gulping and looking at you.

- "Enya, Callie, this is my boyfriend Mattheo. Say hi Mattheo."

- "Umm hi, Enya, Callie." He'd be so awkward, especially when he looks down and there's a small toddler clinging to his leg, little Aella. "And... a koala?"

- Callie giggles, triggering Aella to giggle, and then get the hiccups. Enya however, GLARING. "I'm not Enya. I'm Princess Enya." She emphasises, flicking her hair.

- He raises an eyebrow at you, then crouches down, careful not to dislodge Aella.

- "My most sincere apologies, Princess Enya. How can I make it up to you?" He looks up at you, checking he's doing the right thing.

- When you nod, he turns back as Enya delivers her sentence. "You must play knights and princesses with Callie. I am too tired. I will go and nap on the sofa. 14 steps is far too far to go to bed." (relatable)

- He's scared for a second, but follows Callie into the next room, her playroom.

- "So, am I the knight?" She gives him the DIRTIEST glare.

- "No silly, you're the Princess. You have long eyelashes." She says like it's obvious.

- Mattheo glances to the door, but you've abandoned him in favour of yapping with your parents.

- Imagine u come back later in the day and he's fully dressed up as a princess, with a tutu magically enlarged for him, and a plastic tiara. He's got kids eyeshadow on, and he's playing with your sister amazingly.

- His voice is all high for the princess, and Callie is having the time of her life.

- You obviously get a picture in because HELLO?

- never ever let that go 🙏

- imagine him having a conversation with Callie about you that one of your parents overhears.

- "Do you want to marry y/n?"

- "Umm, maybe. I want whatever y/n wants, I just want them to be happy, okay Callie? Can you keep that a secret?" He raises an eyebrow.

- Callie rolls her eyes. "Boring."

- then your girl goes back to playing with her toys because honestly he's not interesting if he's not being a princess.

- By the end of ur time at home he's chill with your siblings, and realises that kids aren't as scary as he thought.

- he's less scared of kids now to say the least <333

edits made by me - do u guys think I could make it as an editor 🤔 (joking i swear)

[unknown-lovergirl]

Ship: Soft Dom!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

cw: fluff,smut,kissing,spencer being to sleepy to understand,lots of love,cuddling,fingering,not proofread,grinding,penetration{piv},squirting, aftercare,subspace

| I have never written smut before so bear with me if it's bad okay |

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

You had gone to sleep last night after having an argument with Spencer. And it didn't feel right to do that so when you're eyes slowly opened blinking away the sleep in them you decided you would talk with him and try to resolve the problem.

“Spencer”, you called out turning around to see he was still asleep, you shuffled closer to him holding him cheek between your arms the top part of your body on top of him.

He didn't move an inch so you said his name again “Spencer wake up Spencer we need to talk”, you said as you placed a gentle kiss on his lips. He shuffled in the bed arms instinctively wrapping around you.

“Hmm”, Spencer muttered “What is it love?”, he said pulling you even closer to his body.

“We didn't talk about our argument before we went to bed, that's not a good habit Spence you should know that”, you muttered out slightly flustered by how close you two are. “I'm sorry love, there's no need for us to talk about it I was wrong and I shouted at you.”, Spencer apologized for being rude last night.

You two had gotten into a fight when you got back from a case with the team Spencer had said that it was your fault that the unsub almost escaped. It wasn't.

“That's not how this works”.

“I said I'm sorry, I thought 'bout it last night after you went to sleep I was wrong I was just stressed because he almost got away and we spent so long trying to get him I'm really sorry, so please love can I just hold you for some time”.

You sighed giving up on try to talk so you just snuggled up into him concluding that he was to tired to understand seeing as he hadn't opened his eyes the entire time and his grip was loose. “You can hold me for as much time as you want darling”.

So you both just stayed like that for some time. When you looked to the end table on Spencer's side of the bed you saw that the digital clock read 4:21 am no wonder you both felt so tired it had barely been four hours since you got back.

You shifted so you we're now completely on top of him, his arms still loosely around you. He was awake you could tell by how his breathing was less steady than before. Leaning down so your face was mere inches away from Spencer's you softly pressed your lips onto his.

Just a light peck then you kissed both his eyes and said, “I love you”, Spencer's grip on you tightened just a little but it was enough for you to feel it. “I love you too”, he whispered back before pulling you closer and planting his lips back onto yours this time the kiss held more love and passion.

You kissed back ever so passionately your hands moving to play with his hair. He moaned softly as you tugged on his hair hands moving down your back coming to a stop at your ass, you slipped your tounge into his mouth exploring every part of his mouth it could reach, tounge skilled as ever as it battled with Spencer's for dominance his eventually winning.

His hands slipping into the hem of your shorts pulling them off your body, before slowly sliding up your legs to your inner thighs. Kneading the flesh of your thighs, fingers moving expertly to your pussy, “Gosh baby you're so fucking wet for me”, Spencer said as he pulled away from the kiss to speak his mouth immediately going to your neck.

You turned your head to give Spencer better access moaning as his fingers slid across your cunt from your slit to your clit gathering the wetness your body seemed to be endlessly producing before slipping his finger into your needy hole.

“Feels so good Spence”, you moaned and whimpered as his slender finger pumped in and out of your pussy. His thumb rubbed you clit in a circular motion adding to the pleasure his other fingers and mouth were giving you.

You grinded your hips down onto his finger letting out a moan of lust when he dipped another finger into your greedy hole. The movement of both your hips and Spencer's fingers drawing you closer to the familiar feeling of an orgasm.

You felt a coil in your stomach tighten your mouth fell open in an airy moan. The thrust of Spencer's fingers grew faster and deeper as he could tell you were close, “'M gonna cum Spencer”, you barely strung together the words of warning.

“Do it baby cum for me love”, that was your breaking point having gotten permission you came on Spencer's fingers staining his clothes and fingers with your cum. The movements of your hips came to a stop. Spencer helped you ride out your high with his fingers before slipping them out.

He brought his fingers to his mouth sucking on them his eyes on yours as he did so and you whimpered at the sight softly grinding your hips down on his briefs, letting out a moan at the feeling of his hard-on.

“Please Spencer 'want more.”, you begged still looking at him with hooded eyes your voice airy and filled with need, “More of what baby?”, he asked slipping his fingers out of his mouth.

“More of you baby please”, you said as you rolled your hips onto him again harder this time, Spencer let out a groan the feeling. Without answering he flipped you both over so he was on top his legs and hands at either side holding him up.

He brought one hand up pulling of your shirt in one swift move, the same hand comes to your breasts gripping right one softly kneading it thumb coming up to your nipples flicking it softly drawing a moan from your lips. His mouth coming down unto the your other breasts licking and sucking on it biting your nipple.

You brought a hand to his hair pulling it and pushing his head up, “Spencer please I need you to fuck me, stop teasing”, he chuckled softly before he got of you and took of his clothes before getting back on you.

He was hard so much so it looked painful you wondered how long it had been like that as you brought your hand to his thick cock spreading the precum at the tip down his length, it never ceased to amaze you how big he was.

Spencer let out a pornographic moan as your fingers pressed against his slit, bucking his hips out of habit, “How long have you been this hard Spence?”, you asked your curiousness getting the better of you. “Since you got on top of me”, he answered in-between his moans.

That was a while ago you thought as you look to the clock, 6:08 it read meaning Spencer had been hard for an hour and a half. Your hand came to a halt, as you move to align his cock with your hole. Spencer rubbed his cock across your clit before pushing into you.

You both let out loud moans at the feeling of him filling you up your pussy swallowing him as he gently thrust his hips pushing his cock into you further until he bottomed out in you his tip pressing against your cervic.

Spencer stayed still waiting for you to adjust to his full size, you tapped on his shoulder signaling that he could move after a few minutes, he pulled out till his tip was the only thing in you before thrusting back into you.

“Spencer”, you moaned his name loudly the neighbors would definitely be able to hear, he continued like that before he found a suitable pace and rhythm. You were a moaning whimpering mess barely able to keep your eyes open Spencer thrusted into you cock brushing against your gummy wall.

His thrust grew more purposeful as he tried to find that spot he knew would be it for you and when he did as his fat length brushed over that mess you screamed his name bucking your hips to match his pace in need of that sweet pleasure.

The way you moaned, whimpered and screamed his name barely being able to comprehend everything turned him on even more, now with every stroke and thrust of his length he hit that spot sending you into sweet oblivion. He loved how him and only him made you feel that good, loved how you make him feel so good.

He let out a deep groan when he felt you clench around him his hips stuttering due to how much tighter your cunt had just gotten, you were close really close, this was the fastest you had cum since your first time with him. That case took so long to be solved neither of you had the time to take care of eachother and now that you did it felt so good.

With how tight you had clenched Spencer was also not far from releasing his seed into you, “Fa...ster”, you managed to breathe out between your moan and ask and you shall receive as Spencer went somehow faster that he had been going before.

Before you could even warn him you were coming hard on his cock, he followed not long after as though he had been waiting so you could reach your high. It was only after you had milked Spencer of all his cum did you realize that you had squirted hard staining the sheets below you.

Spencer chuckled as he saw the look of surprise on your face and also because he knew you had never done that never squirted, he leaned down to press a kiss on your forehead before pulling out, you whined at the feeling of being empty and the cold that took over you as he got of your body.

“Baby are you with me?”, Spencer asked as he sat next to you pulling you unto his laps your legs splayed out on the bed, you just hummed having drifted into your little headspace of pleasure.

Spencer brought a hand to your back hooking the other under your knees lifting you up and carrying you to the bathroom, placing you on the counter next to the sink. He turned on the faucet to fill up the bathtub turning to you he asked, “Bubbles no bubbles”, you just nodded your head not understanding what he said Spencer put bubbles anyway.

He went out to the bedroom changing the sheets quickly before returning to you Spencer wet a washcloth with warm water using it to clean the cum between your legs you moved forward to get friction when he wiped your hole but he used his forearm to pin you down.

Throwing the washcloth in the laundry basket Spencer carried you and placed you in the tub before turning of the faucet and getting in with you he sat behind you your back to his front as he held you there massaging your thighs.

You came around after he had helped you clean up and get dressed.

You cuddled close to Spencer as he got into the bed with you, slowly drifting to sleep you mummer, “I forgive you”.

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[weneeya]

warm smile w/ zoro m.list | rules

note. i just want to write with one piece (and i love zoro way too much) so here i am! please don't hesitate to request <3

It had been a pretty long time since you got saved by Luffy and his crew, leaving you on the boat like you had always been here. Everyone was so natural with you, all the time ; you never felt so much at home than when you were here with them.

Luffy asked you to join the crew a few times already, but you knew it was nonsense. You didn’t even know how to fight correctly ; you’d be a burden for the crew of the future King of the Pirates. He didn’t really care, but you did enough not to accept. 

Yet, you haven’t left ; and no one wanted you to. You were like a ray of sunshine on this boat, and you could say without being arrogant that you were good with everyone. Nami and Robin were always doing ‘girls nights’ with you, and you knew the ginger loved to have another girl like her on the boat. 

You always had this sweet smile dancing on your lips, like nothing could ruin your mood. You were a bit like Luffy on this point, except that you were way less stupid than him. It made a lot of your charm. Sanji was always swooning over you ; but he was with most girls so it didn’t mean as much, you thought. 

The real surprise with Zoro. The usual distant man with strangers had finally opened up to you after a few weeks. He was letting you come when he was exercising, or he let you stay the night with him when he did the guard ; sometimes, because you needed to sleep and he didn’t want you to be too tired. 

Tonight was one of those nights where you were out there with him, making sure that nothing would disturb the tranquility of the Sunny. He was sitting and you were right next to him. You had this soft smile on your lips, whispering all kinds of stories to him. It was your way to help him and thank him for taking care during the night. 

Zoro was simply looking at you, completely silent, like he always was. Until he cuts you mid sentence, his fingers brushing your hair from your face. The touch was strangely gentle ; you never expected those calloused hands to be so sweet if they wanted to. It caught you off guard, obviously, and you fell silent. 

Zoro’s voice got out in a low tone, barely above a whisper. “You have a warm smile,” he started, his only eye scanning your face until it rested on your lips for a bit longer. Then, he looked back into your own gaze, a light smile putting the corners of his lips upward. “Makes me want to keep the world from seeing it.” 

You swore you felt your heart literally exploding inside your chest at his words. You never felt so much at loss of words before, and you knew he could see it by the chuckle that escaped his throat. “Cat got your tongue?” And you looked away quicker than you ever did before, hiding the blush that rushed to your cheeks ; or at least trying to. 

The next few days were a bit awkward after that night. Zoro was acting like nothing happened while you wouldn’t even look him in the eyes anymore. It couldn’t last longer, and you knew it, so you decided to confront him. 

You fought with him until he let you stay the night guard with him once again. Everything was like usual, except that you were awfully silent. It felt wrong, even for someone as dense as him. He was about to say something when your voice seemed to be finally back. 

“Why did you say that?” You confronted his gaze, and he raised an eyebrow, apparently not understanding what you meant. A sigh left your mouth before you explained yourself. “The other night, what you said about my smile.” But Zoro didn’t react much more, like it was nothing so amazing. He simply shrugged his shoulders, “Because I meant it.” 

You frowned slightly at his words ; he wasn’t really helping you right now. What an annoying man. “I don’t get it,” you said and this time, the sigh came from his mouth. “There’s nothing to get, forget it.” But you weren’t going to let him run away so easily. “No, I’m not forgetting anything. explain yourself.” 

He mumbled something under his breath, clearly annoyed right now ; but there was something else too, you knew there was. “I didn’t hear you,” you insist, and maybe you shouldn’t have. “I like you! Happy now? IS that what you wanted to hear?” He snapped at you, and you were sure that you could see his ears burning red. 

Your eyes widened a little at his words, leaving you silent, which made him sigh once again. “If it was for this, you could have-” You didn’t give him the chance to finish his sentence. Your hands reached for his face, cupping it softly before you suddenly leaned closer, leaving no space between your two bodies. 

Your lips crashed against his for only a second, just to make him shut up for a moment. You pulled back to meet his gaze, and it didn’t last long either before he took the decision to capture your lips between his a second time. He had never been really good with words, actions were much easier for him. 

After that night, Zoro let you stay all the night you wanted with him, especially if it meant leaving the two of you alone while everyone was sleeping.

thank you!!