#i kept taking naps lol

[quesocheeso]

CW: Cursing

Heavenly War Part 1

You guys kinda get to start seeing the difference that led to Wukong ascending the throne and it all leads back to loyalty.

In the AU, the Brotherhood weren't the only ones to go to war against the Celestial Realm, I like to think that they all had large individual backing, considering they were all strong demons/celestial beings, and two of the members were recognized as Kings, they would have other smaller position members. Which also led to larger amounts of casualties. Which if you consider that not only was Macaque fighting alongside Wukong, but also his FFM Generals and soldiers, he would more likely give himself up to save their lives. At least in the AU, Macaque would be more aware of this, and way more insistent of figuring out where Wukong is than going along with what the Brotherhood thinks.

Sunset Timeline

First | Next

[saturn-sends-hugs]

BUCKLE UP ITS EPISODE THOUGHTS TIME

(ep12 spoilers under the cut :))

y’all

yALL

those first goddamn beats?

i sit down to watch every episode and during every single intro i’m there doing my little air drums along with intro beats but dude??

this time??

where they just cut out?!?!!

the sheer fucking unease, INSTANTLY, that was INSANE. I know it’s such a small thing but if that isn’t some form of masterful art i don’t know what is.

and the way that continued into the first shot of the GAR base in sepia, washed out and almost empty even with all the stormtroopers walking around, our first view of Crosshair was immediately unsettling because it all felt wrong.

but into the real stuff—

I feel like towards the beginning of this episode, we were seeing how complacent Crosshair is being. He’s standing around, and although he speaks up a tiny bit when Lieutenant Don’t-Give-A-Shit (love that we’ve all collectively decided he doesn’t get to have his name bskhsjsjk) is rolling his eyes at the clones, Cross backs down and says nothing after that jab at them about being “used equipment.” He can’t be happy with it for sure, but he’s letting it happen because what else should he do? Speak up? And get kicked out of the Empire that’s keeping him working? No thank you, he’d rather grit his teeth and let it happen. A mission’s a mission.

Later though, when we meet Mayday, we see the first moment of Crosshair rebelling. Mayday speaks up against the Lieutenant when Crosshair doesn’t, and once he’s gone, he brings the heat lamp a little bit closer to Crosshair. Call it cliché but I think this is a literal representation of what Mayday is doing for Crosshair, he literally brings that spark closer, he shows him that they can and should care about each other while the empire doesn’t. And when Mayday tells him his name, that moment is an invitation. It’s a calling to Crosshair, to see if denies it, sticks by the empire and uses his number or better yet, doesn’t respond at all. But he doesn’t. He chooses his name, and how has it been since he’s said it out loud? Last time he heard it was probably from Cody, and before that the Batch themselves. And in this case, he’s choosing to use his name, choosing that little rebellion against the empire at Mayday’s invitation.

And isn’t it fitting how his name is Mayday? He’s a literal call for help. He’s Crosshair’s call for help, one he can’t bring himself to voice on his own, but Mayday is bringing it all to light anyway. He brings up how this new Lieutenant hasn’t commanded a real mission, he hasn’t earned their respect, so why should he treat them how he does? Crosshair was a commander for a minute, he must’ve thought the same things. And when the cargo turns out to be stormtrooper gear, Mayday is right there with his line of, “We were good soldiers. We followed orders. …And for what?” What was it for? To be separated from his brothers, to have to hunt them down, to be demoted from Commander after all that effort and to now be helping deliver cargo? Cargo meant to help the empire, but intentionally held back, hidden from the clones? Nothing Crosshair has done has made anything better, he can stay quiet and loyal all he likes, but it’s not doing him any favors. The empire doesn’t care that they’re good soldiers, they’re all still expendable.

And through the episode, we see Crosshair trusting Mayday more and more. First with the pressure mine, when he talks about the Batch and Mayday ends up saving him from the mine. Then when they’re ambushing the raiders, he returns the favor, taking out the raiders about to overwhelm Mayday. And when they go down to look at the cargo, Crosshair does his little slide thing (omG he is so sweet he is SO SWEET) and that’s the first moment he takes his helmet off around Mayday, he finally trusts him enough to be more vulnerable. ( @jealous-sloth77 made a BEAUTIFUL post abt his helmet and it’s significance/parallels to his vulnerability, highly encourage u to go read it if u haven’t!!)

And right here, after the avalanche, Crosshair’s journey to bring Mayday back to the base shows how he’s losing his loyalty to the empire. It’s not worth carrying dead weight, logically he shouldn’t bring the Commander back, not when he’d be better off just saving himself. But he doesn’t. He chooses to help Mayday, and along the way he’s slipping even further from the empire. He’s lost his helmet, he’s letting Mayday use his Firepuncher as a crutch, he’s carrying that dead weight anyway and none of this is what a “good soldier” to the empire should do. And when the ships fly overhead, my first thought was that they should use a flare or something, call for help, since surely the Empire could see them from here? But they don’t have the gear, they never got the supplies they needed and besides, would the Empire even care?

By the time Crosshair makes it back to base, he’s nearly done. He pleads with the Lieutenant one last time to help him, to do something, but he doesn’t. He sits there and watches Mayday die, then says that was the point. He was a soldier to the Empire. His death was just inevitable.

And Crosshair snaps.

This moment where he shoots the Lieutenant is so intense because there’s so many pieces tying into it.

Firstly, he uses his handgun. He’s a sniper, used to killing from afar, but this time? He calls after the Lieutenant, waits for him to turn and look him in the eyes, and then he shoots him point blank. Crosshair is done.

Second, we all know it by now but the vulture parallels? The way Mayday introduced that: “Vicious creatures. But you have to admire them. They find a way to survive.” That’s Crosshair. That’s who he is, he isn’t one to balk at violence, he does what needs to be done. And you have to admire it, because it’s true, he’s finding his way to survive. And in particular in this moment, he’s choosing his own path to survival. He’s cutting himself away from the Empire, the lone vulture that survives despite it all.

But right at the end, it doesn’t work.

The Empire takes him again, probably leaves Mayday on that platform, and he’s sent off to be experimented on by the Empire. By Emerie.

And that’s the last point I want to make with this, is all the parallels throughout this episode to the rest of the batch. The most obvious I think is Emerie. Her goggles immediately reminded me of Tech, and here how she’s surveying Crosshair, it almost seems like Cross makes that connection too. Not just that, but her voice is incredibly similar to Omega’s (due to the voice actor ofc but still, that’s a choice), and as the screen fades out, her glasses stay prominent on the screen, and she only feels more reminiscent of Tech.

But she’s not the only parallel. With the pressure mine in the cave, Mayday directly says he’s “not a bombs expert.” But we’re all thinking of who is. And with the blood in the snow, Crosshair tracking it to the source, he’s quiet literally hunting down the target. Him shooting the shuttle on the landing pad, the explosion (i am so sorry listen u really thought i wasn’t gonna bring up echo in this post abt the crosshair ep u FOOL), not to mention the whole ending sequence with Crosshair waking up confused in a medbay? There’s even some parallels to the 501st (the troopers helmets set together while Mayday mourns), not that that has to do with Crosshair, but still. Even in the one episode without them, there were so many parallels to Crosshairs brothers, and I’m certain I missed a few. Some of it was probably just coincidence or the writers keeping us entertained despite the others not being here, but it also feels like little pieces of them just keep showing up. And I’m sure Crosshair would be noticing it too.

This episode was just chock full of little beautiful moments, the music, the parallels, the characters, Crosshair’s lines in particular were just incredible, and Mayday was such a new version of “Clone Commander” that we just haven’t seen before. Everything about this episode could be something I would talk abt for HOURS but it would eventually turn into incoherent sobbing noises because my SWEET BOY U POOR POOR MAN WHERE ARE YOUR BROTHERS YOU NEED THEMMMMMM. I want to give Cross a hug SO BAD, he deserves every nice thing after today, that was a TRIP.

if it wasn’t like 11 at night when i was posting this i would tag people (and if i was more confident bkshsjsj) but i always love hearing peoples thoughts, either on this ep or predictions for where this storyline goes in the next one!! :)

[izzy-b-hands]

If ur waiting on a reply from me (and i know a couple of folks are rn) thank u for ur patience in waiting. I'm working on typing things up but today is just. idk how to put it but i keep winding up grumpy and my replies i feel are suffering for it. Pls know i do wanna chat and exchange ideas, I'm just trying to make sure the Grumpasaurus Rex side of my brain that's v loud today isn't mucking them up before i send them 🫂🫂❤️❤️

[rinhaler]

feel like i havent talked to u guys for so long i hope ur all doing good :3

[heyitslapis]

Hmmmmm post-drunk cringe

[catchastarorten]

—Sleep well.

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho x fem!reader

Summary: Gi-hun suggested that the group took turns staying on watch in case the other players attacked, him and Jung-bae stayed up while you and the others napped, Dae-ho took his place beside you to rest with you.

Content: fluff, cuddling(?), you head-butting him in your sleep lol, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not really proofread, sorry!

Word count: 808

You were tucked into the corner with your group—Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Young-il, Dae-ho, and Jun-hee. Trust was a rare thing in the games, but the six of you managed to stick together, watching each other’s backs through the brutal rounds.

The weight of exhaustion clung to you, but Gi-hun’s paranoia kept your eyes open longer than you would have liked. He wasn’t wrong, though. The fear was palpable.

Your group pulled a couple of mattresses off of the bunks, arranging them as best as possible. One was dragged and laid flat against the wall, the others shoved under bunk frames for some semblance of protection.

“Is this really necessary? I don’t like sleeping under there.” Jung-bae asked, sliding a mattress to Gi-hun, who shoved it under a bunk frame.

“Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us.” Gi-hun said, his eyes focused and his voice steady. “The prize money still goes up if we kill each other. It’s a part of the game they designed.”

You exchanged a look with Dae-ho, who sat cross-legged beside you, holding onto some blankets and pillows. He had been your shadow ever since Red light, Green light. Always sticking close, insisting on protecting you in this place after seeing the way you froze during the first game—when he told you to stay behind him closely so you could use him as a human shield.

“We need to take turns keeping watch after the lights go out.” Gi-hun muttered, sitting down at the foot of the bunk beds, his sharp eyes scanning the room. “I’ll take the first watch.”

The lights flickered out not long after, leaving the only source being the giant piggy-bank hung on the ceiling that was glowing dimly.

It was after a while when Jung-bae rolled out lazily from under a bunk and plopped down beside Gi-hun, the two of them speaking in hushed voices.

You laid down on one of the mattresses, wrapping the thin blanket around yourself. Dae-ho settled beside you not long after, and though you weren’t expecting it, his hand brushed against yours as he shifted to get comfortable, and you were sure you saw his face flush before he hid it, which barely worked, to be honest.

“Don’t worry,” he mumbled, his voice low and soothing. “I’ll keep you safe. I’ll fight them off if they try to come over here.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart ache in the best way. Dae-ho had a knack for looking out for you since you met him in the games, even in the little ways—giving you his portion of food, stepping in when someone got too close. You hadn’t known him long, but there was this easy warmth between the two of you.

Within minutes, you were sound asleep.

Dae-ho’s soft snores filled the small space you both shared. Exhaustion had gotten the better of him, just like it did to you. His arm had draped protectively over your side in his sleep, his presence a cocoon of safety.

Gi-hun and Jung-bae sat near the bunks, their attention now drawn to the sound of soft snoring. Both sets of eyes landed on you and Dae-ho, curled up together on the mattress.

“They’re out like a light,” Jung-bae remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You know, seeing them like that... it reminds me of when we went on strike. We were occupying the factory, and management told us to come out. They said anyone who came out voluntarily would be let off the hook and receive more severance pay.”

Gi-hun stared into the distance, as if recalling what happened.

“You were sleeping beside me and you were talking in your sleep. ‘Mom, I’m hungry, give me some food.’” Jung-bae made an exaggerated crying face, and Gi-hun gave him a glare as Jung-bae nudged him with his elbow, smirking.

Their voices echoed, and soon enough, soft laughs filled the quietness.

Jung-bae chuckled again, louder this time. He clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. The noise had reached you, and you stirred slightly. Dae-ho, still asleep, curled closer to you instinctively, his arm tightening around your side. His movement caused your head to shift slightly, and without warning, you head-butted him in your half-asleep state of grogginess.

Dae-ho furrowed his brows, a soft noise escaping his lips as he shifted again, burying his face into the crook of his arm. You tugged the blanket over your shoulders, muttering something incoherent before nestling deeper into the mattress, falling right back asleep.

Jung-bae stifled another laugh, his shoulders shaking with the effort. Gi-hun gave him a glare, but a faint smile was already tugging at the corners of his mouth too.

“They’re like kids,” Jung-bae whispered, his tone fond.

“Let them sleep. They’ll need it.” Gi-hun shook his head and sighed softly.

[anisespice]

“ accidents happen ” || tokyo rev.

cont. two

synopsis: in which they discover you had their child and kept it from them all these years later.

pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, ran, sanzu ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, angst (if you squint really hard), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be errors lol and i think that’s it :))

notes: i just want the drama >:) may make more parts, and even extend said headcannons into longer fics in the future, but wanted to post something quick for mother’s day. hope you enjoy!

When you disappeared off the face of the earth, MIKEY had never been the same. One fight. One argument that spiraled out of control, and you were just gone...

He had people looking for you for about a couple years, the trail ran cold after a while and he had half a mind to think you were dead. Up until he got intel of your whereabouts one morning during a meeting.

That man got up and left immediately.

He wasn’t accompanied with any of his men, only because he didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention in the broad daylight. Sure, him wearing a black hood, ball cap, and mask in a park didn’t really help him look inconspicuous but it at least concealed his identity enough for him to blend in. Mikey sat on a bench for a good forty minutes, anxious, making anyone who passed him shiver from his intense aura alone; even birds walked around him. After almost an hour of waiting, he began to feel frustrated. Perhaps, the intel was false. Just as he went to stand, already conjuring up ways to have Sanzu execute the idiot who wasted his time, he heard it.

Your voice. Seizing him, like a siren’s call.

His eyes were alert, darting around until they landed on your figure, spotlighted by the sun, like an angel descending from the heavens. You looked good, healthy. That was good. An array of emotions fought for their turn in Mikey’s heart—Relief, distress, anger, nostalgia. He couldn’t just pick one, especially when it came to you. As he watched from his spot, doing his best to not seem suspicious, he clocked the people you were approaching with excitement, your peppy stride as you waved at, what he presumed, to be mother and daughter.

However, his entire world turned upside down when the little girl extended out her arms towards you, and said “Mama!”

“Hello, my darling.~” You cooed, taking her into your awaiting arms from the woman, embracing the toddler tightly. “Mama missed you so much.”

“Missed you, mama!” was the child’s reply, followed by her giggles.

A bucket of cold water would’ve been better than this. Watching you converse with who he now assumes to be the babysitter, Mikey felt faint. Vision blurring, head pounding, heart clenching. You…you…no. There’s no way. You wouldn’t have moved on…you couldn’t have, not like this, not from him. You loved him, didn’t you? You still love him, didn’t you?

How could you…how could you?

Before he knew it, he started to follow you around. From the park, to the store, all the way back to your apartment. He already phoned some of the executives to start working in on the babysitter, and anyone else in your new found circle for information. He wanted answers. He needed them.

By the time you began fixing dinner, with your daughter laid down for a nap, you receive a knock at your door. Who could that be at this hour?

RAN was chilling outside the rendezvous spot for something the boss and a few other execs were participating in, having a smoke, minding his business, up until he sees a little girl with pigtails wearing a school uniform approaching, standing before him and just…staring. She barely came up to his thighs, could've been no older than seven. She was practically staring into his soul with bright lavender eyes that scarily reminded him of Rin’s when he was that age.

He stared back, head tilted as he blew out the smoke from the corner of his mouth. The hell was a kid doing on this side of town?

Then, after an uncomfortable staring contest, the little girl points at his cigarette. “My ma says those things are bad for you.”

Ran raised a brow, “Does she now?”

“Mmhm! She says it makes people unhappy.”

He offered a thoughtful nod, an amused grin spreading across his face. “Mm. Do I look unhappy?”

The girl looked at Ran for a minute, eyes squinted. Eventually, she shook her head. “No. But, ma also says people who are always unhappy get better at hiding it.”

Ran’s grin faltered. Her unwavering stare started to unnerve him, especially after hearing such a heavy statement come from such a small package.

After a brief moment of silence, he chuckled softly, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it away. He exhaled. “Smart woman.”

The little girl beamed, “Mmhm! My ma knows a lot of stuff.”

“Tsk. But not ‘Stranger Danger���, apparently.”

She tilted her head, curious. “Huh?”

“You shouldn’t be wandering around by yourself, let alone approaching someone you don’t know. ‘s not safe. Especially for nosy little girls who stick their noses in other people’s business. Your ma never taught you that?”

The little girl rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. “Duh. Of course she did. Everyone knows that rule,” she exasperated. Ran snorted, but yielded when she squinted at him, pointing as she sassed. “And I do so know you, so you’re not a stranger.”

This time, Ran couldn’t help the incredulous laugh. “Oh, you know me, huh? That’s not good. ‘m supposed to keep a low profile. Say, you ain’t a cop are you?” He teased, earning another eye roll.

“No. Too small to be a cop, dummy.”

“Oh, pardon me, I didn’t notice. Where do you know me from, then?”

The little girl pointed over to the building..where the executives were having their meeting. She beamed, “Ma’s works in there. On important people days she can’t get me from school, so she tells me to come straight here, and to not talk to the purple man that stands near the building. She says you’re mean.”

Ran smirked, then gave a half-hearted shrug.

“She also says you’re my pa. But, I never believed her. You’re too old.”

Ran’s smirk dropped.

Whether more from the first comment or the last, you decide. But, one thing was for certain: he needed another cigarette.

SANZU cackled watching some guy struggle to round up a couple of rowdy twins at the convenience store. One was knocking shit off the shelves while the other ran circles around the guy. It was what he needed for his bitch of a hangover, a good laugh to distract from the ache in his skull.

However, he wasn’t laughing for long when you came around the corner of the isle, holding a few items with a smile on your face that soon faded once you saw the scene unfolding before you; the pinkette thought he was still tripping balls. Blinking a few times to allow any after effects of the drugs to clear up, when you didn’t disappear he used his long legs to swiftly yeet behind one of the shelves, peering around it like some paranoid stalker. The last time you had spoken, you had threatened to castrate him with your teeth if you ever saw him again.

And he’d be damned if he tried your bluff.

He watched in awe as you straightened those twins up quick. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought they were trained to obey you, and only you. Any other authority be damned. While the guy was putting all the stuff back on the shelves, sweaty and out of breath, you gently reprimanded them for causing trouble. You still made that cute pouty face you always did whenever you were mad at him…

“What did we talk about earlier? Hm? Mr. Satoru was very kind to help mama today, you know. You two promised me you’d be on your best behavior for him.”

Sanzu gagged. This was the rebound you let nut in you? This huffy moron who can’t handle a couple of ankle biters, this was your king? He had half a mind to just gut the guy to put him out of his misery from that pathetic display from earlier, alone. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be back home. He remembers when he was that age—Rowdy, reckless, the Antichrist. Adorable, but deadly. God bless that poor bastard’s soul.

Wait…Mister? Not…dad?

The first twin whined, stomping their feet. “He’s too boringggg!”

Come to think of it…if Sanzu squinted…the longer he looked at the little family…he swore the more he saw the resemblance of himself in the tiny gremlins. From the hair, to the eyes, all the way down to the mannerisms…Hang on. When had been the last time you two fucked? Three…no, was it four years ago?

The second twin huffed, pointing at the man. “Yeah! And he’s jus’ being nice so that he can sleep in your bed, mama!”

You flushed, nervously chuckling as you looked around to make sure no one heard. Sanzu ducked behind a bag of chips, now nothing but eyes peeking through the gaps of food on the shelf.

So…that loser’s not the father? Then…could that mean..?

“He’s mama’s boyfriend, remember? He’s allowed to do that. And he’ll be around for a while, so I want you two to be nice, okay?”

“…okay, mama.” They grumbled.

Sanzu almost popped a blood vessel, fist clenched around a bag of Lays and nearly busting it. He chuckled darkly, “Oh. We’ll see about that.”

© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved.

likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[mxltifxnd0m]

cute glasses ◦◦ d. winchester

summary: your eyes are dry because of your contacts, so you have no choice but to put your glasses on

pairings: established dean winchester x reader, dean winchester x gn! reader

word count: 1.3K

warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', major fluff, some insecure thoughts, but mainly fluff

a/n: first official fic for dean!! also this was intentionally written as a blurb but as always, it seems i have more write than intended lol

please reblog and comment, i love to see your thoughts!

𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You had to fight the temptation to rub your eyes as you stared hard at your laptop, the screen emitting a blue light that was beginning to give you a headache alongside the dryness of your contacts as you sat at the table in the motel room. You blinked hard multiple times, trying to bring moisture to your contacts and find some relief from the dryness, but nothing was working.

You were still dressed in the FBI garb you had put on in the morning when you and Dean were going to the station to gather information on the hunt the two of you were working. Sam would have joined the two of you, but he had come down with a cold, and Dean forced him to stay back at the bunker while the two of you would work the hunt.

You glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand, seeing that 10 minutes had passed since Dean went out to get dinner for you two. You threw your head back with a groan, feeling the soreness in your shoulders as you sat down and hunched over your laptop, researching for hours on end.

You stood up from the seat and stretched out your limbs like a cat waking up from a nap and stalking over to your bag to grab your pajamas and glasses, and headed to the bathroom to take a quick shower and get comfortable.

You jumped into the shower and rinsed off the day. After showering, you took out the dry contacts that were irritating your eyes, put them back into their case, and let out a sigh of relief when you blinked, and moisture was restored to your eyes.

You put on your glasses and strolled back into the room to find Dean sitting at the table and pulling the food out of the takeout bag.

"Took you long enough, sweetheart. I got us Chinese since there was a place I saw when driving in an-" He stopped talking as you crossed the room to see what he ordered.

"And what?" You asked him, looking at him with furrowed brows as you took in Dean's stunned expression, his mouth agape as his eyes flickered around and all over your face.

"You have glasses." Dean pointed out, blinking slowly as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Uh, yeah I do."

"Since when?"

"Since I was a freshman in high school." You told him as casually as you could, not wanting to make a big deal out of you wearing glasses.

"How come I've never seen you with them on?" Dean asked you with knitted brows.

"Err…" You trailed off. You didn't really want the boys to know you had glasses since you could be considered a liability if anything were to happen to your contacts or glasses. But hey, you've managed this long hunting with them, and you haven't died yet because of them. You just didn't want the boys to look down on you because you had them, and they could potentially hinder you in hunts.

"I wear contacts, and I try to keep them in for as long as I can until I can get back to my room and put my glasses on." You finally explained with a sheepish smile as you rubbed the back of your neck.

Dean's face turned into one of realization. "Is that why I sometimes feel you slip out of bed and then come back a couple of minutes later?"

You felt your face flush with heat as you nodded in response. Dean chuckled lightly at your embarrassment and leaned in to kiss your forehead. Then, a chaste peck on your lips before turning back to the food.

"You're not gonna ask me why I kept this from you?" You asked, confusion coloring your words as you saw him sit down in front of your closed laptop and dig into one of the takeout boxes with a plastic fork.

"Do you want me to?" Dean questioned through a mouthful of chow mein.

"Uh, not really. I was just ready for you to go all Spanish inquisition on me." You sat down across from him and looked through the takeout boxes before opening one of them to find the orange chicken.

Dean swallowed the food he was chewing. "Look, you had your reasons, and yeah, I have many questions about them but right now I just want to stare at you with them on."

You raised an eyebrow at him again. "You like them?"

"Yeah," He shrugged. "You look beautiful with or without them on." Dean reached across the table and traded chow mein for the orange chicken box in your hands.

You smiled at him, feeling your cheeks flush with heat again before huffing an amused breath through your nose. You narrowed your eyes at him as you leaned forward, taking Dean, who was still in his FBI suit, minus the jacket, tie, and a few of the buttons on his shirt unbuttoned.

"The glasses are doing something for you aren't they?" You teased him as you took a bite of the chow mein.

"Yeah, you have this sexy librarian thing going on. Could only imagine how much hotter you would have been if you left your FBI suit on." Dean's mouth pulled into a coy smirk, his green eyes alight with mischief and desire.

You chuckled as you shook your head. "Of course, you'd be into that."

Dean shrugged again as he popped a piece of orange chicken in his mouth.

Later, when the two of you finished eating and did a little more research and while you were doing your skincare, a sliver of worry still sat with you as you thought about how this would affect Dean and hunting. When you climbed into bed with Dean and placed your glasses on the nightstand, your world got a little blurry, but you could still see Dean's slight smile on his face as he pulled you into his side, wrapping an arm around your waist.

Dean pressed a warm kiss on your forehead. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" He asked lowly, his voice laced with care and fatigue.

"S'nothing." You shook your head.

"Come on, don't like seeing you like this before we go to bed." Dean squeezed your waist.

You sighed before propping your chin on his chest. "Just concerned that you might worry about me because of my bad eyesight."

Dean looked at you before leaning forward to press another kiss to your forehead and brought his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against the soft skin. You leaned into his warm touch, pressing a kiss into his palm.

"I'm always going to worry about you," He started, pausing before finding his following words.

"But you've been hunting with your contacts and glasses for a long time before you met me, and you've been able to keep up with me and Sam without us knowing. I don't care that you have glasses or contacts because you're still a damn good hunter."

You smiled at his words before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss against Dean's full lips. Dean kissed you just as softly as you pressed your lips against yours and chased your lips as you pulled away.

You rested your forehead against his. "Thank you." You whispered, your lips brushing against his as you did.

"No problem, sweetheart. Let's get to bed, we've got a bastard to hunt."

You chuckled softly at his words and pressed a quick kiss on his lips before settling beside him and melting into his side as you guys slowly fell asleep, finding that your dreams were filled with Dean's joyous laughter and playful kisses.

[vilsoo]

nanami taking care of his sick wife ᯓᡣ𐭩 ⟡ ˖ ࣪. tags ; fluff, domesticity, very light smut lol

nanami, who actually went out of his way to leave work early just to buy groceries to make you soup for lunch and buy some medicine from the pharmacy. he couldn’t bare seeing you groggy and disoriented from your fever. you couldn’t even make it out of bed this morning. when he got home, he saw you laying on the couch this time draped in all of the warm blankets and a wash cloth over your forehead, napping peacefully with your water bottle beside you. it was a good thing that he reminded you to stay hydrated.

nanami, who makes his way to the kitchen to start on making the soup for you to wake up to. he prioritizes your health so much that he would never want to stress you out. he’s devoted to be by your side, including in sickness and in health, just as you are for him. this gentle, passionate love reciprocated between you two is the type of love that leaves you numb in reverie. he would check in on you while waiting for the water to boil, changing the dampened wash cloth from room temperature to cool, and caressing your face ever so gently just to not wake you.

nanami, who is the first man you see when your eyes flutter open. his smile was stronger than any antidote or medicine, strong enough to make your fatigue temporarily subside. you instantly melt from the way he can mutter sweet such things, all while the lovely smell of warm homemade chicken noodle soup fills your nose. he would even hold your frail hand, ever so gently kissing it.

“how are you feeling, love?”

his delicate touch and the warmth of his hand sent a blossoming sensation within your body. you couldn’t help but smile, the glimmer in your eyes rapturing your husband. “a little better,” you mutter weakly, sighing deeply. “i never thought you’d see me like this…”

“in sickness and in health, remember?” he reassures, his thumb caressing your hand. “now, are you feeling hungry? i came home early to make you soup. just wanted to make sure my pretty wife gets taken care of.”

“i love you,” you murmured fondly. “thank you so much.”

“i love you, too... god, i want to kiss you right now. i couldn’t go on my day not kissing you at all this morning.”

as much as you tried to protest because you didn’t want to get him sick, your loving husband did not care. contagious or not, if he gets to spend more time with you and not have to go to work for being sick, he’d allow it. your husband would wrap the blankets around you as you stood up to walk to the dining table for the soup he prepared. he’d make sure you were still staying hydrated with water and your favorite energy drinks. and after you took the medicine he bought, you were feeling slightly better. your skin wasn’t as hot and your body temperature had decreased, but you were still groggy. you wanted to stay on the couch, but nanami insisted on cuddling with you. he still wanted to hold his endearing wife in his arms; it was a routine every time he comes home. he’d still feel devoted to hold you and feel your body on his, sick or not.

his excuse was that if you had just gotten sick in the morning, eventually he’d have to be as well since you two live together— and if you were both sick, he’d have to cuddle with you. you tried to protest once again because you genuinely didn’t want him to suffer any symptoms, but he kept insisting that he didn’t care. he’d let you sit on his lap and lay on his chest, his slick hands roaming about your warm body as he kisses you softly. he wouldn’t be so aggressive because of your fatigue, but with his burning rapacity and his desire to please you, it was difficult to take his hands off of you.

nanami, who had your body writhing in heat and your hips gyrating from the way he toys with your cunt and fingers you so good. you both sat by the fireplace in the living room, the passion between you two mystified into the air. you loved the way his fingers felt inside you; throwing your head back on his shoulder in pleasure and your moans becoming more urgent with each thrust, that such intense orgasms were enough to make the blood rush in your veins and release endorphins, improving your mood and soothing the fatigue from your fever. oh how you both loved each other so deeply, that for every moment he spends with you, it was pure bliss to him.

[cr4yolaas]

husband headcanons — kenma kozume

tags: fluff, gender neutral reader, not proofread

notes: i used to have the fattest crush on kenma a few years ago but it disappeared and now my kenma game is weak LOL

requested by: @muichirotokito-122

𝜗𝜚 kenma kozume, who is devastatingly clingy at times. he tries not to allow his personal and professional life to interact with one another, but it becomes difficult when he has to spend hours away from you to attend a promotional event or to stream. so, he makes up for it in the comfort of your shared home — whether it’s laying with you couch for hours on end or following you around as you complete your night routine, he can’t quite find it in himself to leave your side. after all, he hasn’t seen you all day, and who are you to reject your husband?

𝜗𝜚 kenma kozume, who has the worst sleeping habits. being on the volleyball team in high school required him to develop a routine, but now that he’s built his own lifestyle, his poor habits are unrestrained. he attempts not to bother you with this, but it’s difficult when he’s getting out of bed at two in the morning to make himself a snack or he’s dragging you to take a nap with him at five in the evening. he apologizes for it every time, though.

𝜗𝜚 kenma kozume, who tends to spoil you a little too much. while he prefers to live a more secluded life, he knows he can get busy at times. thus, he does his best to make up for it when he finally has the time to — he’ll purchase the jewelry you were eyeing online two months ago, and send you a gift card for a personalized spa and massage appointment, and gift you a plushy of your favorite animal on the side, alongside countless other things that he’s kept a mental note of for quite a while.

𝜗𝜚 kenma kozume, who can’t help but mention you at any given moment. he’s a little overbearing with it, at times. your name will constantly pop up during a stream, or he’ll drop hints about you in the midst of an interview. your existence is intertwined with his, and he makes sure to make that evident.

𝜗𝜚 kenma kozume, who prefers to love you through actions over words. he’ll admit he isn’t the best at expressing the way he feels verbally, but he’d be damned if he didn’t show you the extent to which he adores you.

[jjenthusee]

A Broken Mug

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!Reader

a/n: i wrote this because of @janybabyy hilarious comments on my last angsty drabble. It made my morning and I wanted to also contribute some fluff as an apology lol (there also might be a little steamy scene if u squint) i love reading comments and reblogs so leave some if your comfortable ENJOY (also the angsty drabble is here)

tags: tons of fluff, shameless flirting

3.5k words

When Jason went out on patrol, you busied yourself filling the time with aimless activities and chores until he came home. You didn’t plan on trying to shift your sleep schedule with his reversed one, but with your lenient job and bad sleeping habits, nothing was really stopping you.

You got to see him come back from patrol and took naps on the couch together, so you didn’t see any problem with it. Tonight was also any other night that you were walking around the apartment getting any chores done.

Your usual weekly mop and washing your dishes at three in the morning was productive. Until you tried to see how many mugs you can try to carry from the drying mat to the cabinet, then you dropped two mugs.

An old shark mug that would be missed and Jason’s birthday mug you got him last year. You wished you could reverse time, but you stood there watching the mess you created.

Now with the broken pieces, a tube of super glue and your will, you sat on the floor studying how to put the mug back together. The rug in your living room doubled as your current operating table as you laid your supplies around the fragments of Jason’s previous birthday gift.

You had two hours to make it looked like nothing happen, not cry and figure out if you picked up all the pieces. Then apologize to Jason and promise to never pick up a mug again.

…

You looked at your finished handiwork, eyeing the glued ceramic pieces of Jason’s mug.

It looked bad. The glue had settled in some of the smaller pieces, but almost the entire tube was gone and you were out of options. Maybe some last finishing touches, but that wouldn’t fix the problem of it being broken in the first place and you weren’t sure if this was even safe to drink out of anymore. If it didn’t leak.

Now your boyfriend’s precious mug became the victim of your carelessness. The handle broke off completely and the rim had several chipped pieces. With a final attempt you managed to somehow pray that the handle fit and it did, but there were definitely pieces that didn’t fit that smoothly.

Luckily, when the mug fell it didn’t fall onto the floor like the other victim, but onto the kitchen counter. The impact could’ve been worse, but some higher understanding kept most of the mug still intact, but ceramic was fragile, so only so much could be held together against the force of gravity.

“Maybe he won’t notice?” You sighed defeatedly picking at the dried glue.

“Notice what?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at Jason’s voice. You didn’t expect him to be casually standing near the window, standing tall behind you in full Red Hood gear.

You always did manage to forget about his stealth and agility. You nearly smacked him with a pan when you thought a burglar was in your kitchen when you first started dating. Good thing the flowers he brought with him were unharmed.

After closing the window, he slowly removed his leather jacket and gloves with visible exhaustion in his movements, relieved to remove a layer of his nightly outings.

“Welcome home.” You softly spoke, but a bit of strain crept into your voice at the realization that you didn’t clean your mess in time. You whipped your head back to your crime scene that sat in front of you.

Trying to act as naturally as possible, you capped the glue shut.

“Another night of being a handsome vigilante taking down kidnappers and stopping drug trafficking?” You teased as you shifted your body fully toward Jason, no doubt the slight hesitation in your voice giving you away, but you grabbed the tube of super glue, quickly shoving it in your sweatpants pocket as you spoke.

“Nah, only drug trafficking.” Jason lazily said, not paying direct attention to your awkward movements as he emptied his hidden arsenal of weapons off his body. “I made Roy handle the kidnappers.” A hint of amusement in his voice as he stretched his body, muscles contorting. The movement more visible with his jacket off.

“Only drug trafficking.” You tried mimicking him, giving a bad deep voice impression. You slid the mug closer to you, flush against your back so he wouldn’t see it from his angle.

Jason stopped in the middle of his post-patrol routine to look at you. His helmet tilting at you slightly, analyzing you.

Shit. He noticed something.

“Jay, my love, did you shine your helmet recently? It looks shiny and I couldn’t help but notice—“ Your voice quickly died as your gaze shifted from his red helmet down to his hands on his utility belt, lazily resting on the release latch. The look was…wow.

“Cleaner and polish.” Jason spoke slowly, clearly feeling smug under his helmet. He was all too familiar with that look in your eyes. You could practically see the smirk forming.

Click. The belt released as it fell loosely around his waist. Your mouth felt dry. You snapped yourself out of your thoughts.

You can eye-fuck him later, you wanted to hide the cup, but delaying your apology until tomorrow didn’t feel right.

Jason gave one last glance at you, then resumed his attention to his gear as he took the belt off.

“I was thinking we could eat something simple tonight…or morning? I guess it’ll technically be breakfast.” You shifted to get up, grabbing the cup along with you. Thankfully you were able to grab the handle while keeping your eyes on Jason, making sure it wasn’t entirely noticeable.

Jason removed his helmet, a puff of air releasing as he placed it on the dining table.

“Wanna cook something or pick up? It’s kinda limited since it’s early, but there’s always something open.” His voice was clearer, more defined without the modulator distorting it. A slight raspiness that poked at you.

Without the helmet, you could see Jason’s messy hair, matted in some places and fluffier in others, a slight stubble pricking his jaw and that sweet exhausted expression that made him mellow. Your heart raced every time you saw Jason’s face after a night of patrol.

You need to focus. You were getting distracted.

A distraction. That’s what you needed.

With the cup still held behind your back, you walked to Jason as he was placing his belt on the back of the dining chair. He didn’t expect the sudden closeness, but didn’t refrain from it. He looked more…curious than anything.

Jason watched as you reached for his face with your free hand. You didn’t fully extend your arm, purposefully leaving some distance that he would have to fill himself. Giving him the time to come to you.

Sometimes Jason needed time to adjust after a night of patrol, some days he wanted to come to you and other days you had to step in and make baby steps towards him, guiding him back to the domestic life he shared alongside you. Either way you waited and were willing to wait as long as he needed.

This was one of the moments you reached out first, asking to touch him. It was a quiet signal letting your hand hang in the air. Sometimes he held that hand or he let you caress his face. Despite how much you told him he didn’t have to follow it every time, he always did. Like telling you ‘no’ would end him.

Like a magnet, Jason lowered his face placing his cheek in your hand, placing a kiss inside of your palm.

Your heart raced as you watched his careful movements.

He moved his own hand over yours, intertwining your fingers together, but keeping your hand on his cheek. His skin was slightly cold, but he kept your hand in his and he rubbed his face on your palm trying to absorb your heat. It must’ve been freezing outside, maybe you need to get him some hand warmers to keep in his jacket, but a part of you also wanted him to use you to warm himself up.

You felt him sigh as his lips touched your skin. His eyes closed as he fully lost himself in the moment, it felt like he was giving you a silent ‘I missed you’ as he refused to move from you and you squeezed his hand, hopefully giving the message back.

As he breathed your scent in, you counted his eyelashes while you waited, refusing to disrupt his moment from decompressing from patrol. You loved seeing his face from this angle because you could see that some of his eyelashes were white like his hair. It wasn’t that prominent, but your heart fluttered that you were probably one of the only people to know.

Your thumb caressed the edge of his eye, watching him lean into your hand more.

Jason’s eyes opened, barely enough to gaze at you, but you wouldn’t miss the devotion that sat in his eyes. He trusted you and is willing to give himself to you, to let you touch him. To ruin him, if you desired.

“Jay…” You breathlessly spoke into the intimacy pulling at you.

Jason stayed still, waiting for permission, for you to lead him in whatever direction you wanted. All of his resolve focused on what you desired. He was hesitant to even breathe too hard, if it meant you would move away.

You carefully leaned into him, mindful to not touch him more than you already were. Moving your hand from his cheek to the back of his neck. Pushing your fingers through the edges of his hair, his labored breathing on your lips as you hovered over his mouth, just near enough to touch his lips if you spoke.

You wanted his full attention.

You couldn’t tell if you tugged him first or he leaned in, but you were too lost in the kiss to care. You started with a gentle touch, but once Jason angled his face to bring your body closer to him, it felt like he wanted to engulf you.

You felt his fingers slowly itch onto your waist, playing with the fabric of your shirt. You flinched, surprised at the sudden, but welcomed touch. You moved your hand holding the cup—you forgot about the mug!

Luckily, your realization went unnoticed by Jason. He pressed into you, leaning your neck further back to adjust to his height. The new development let a sound reach his throat, but with your bodies this close, you could feel the murmur. Your stomach fluttered.

Before his hands could move toward your back, you maneuvered your arm still holding onto the cup to avoid getting tangled. You laid your arm on his shoulder, holding the mug by its handle, careful to not let the mug touch him, letting him get even closer.

The movement allowed him to breathe onto your mouth, lost in your contact. It made your stomach warm at the sound.

Your mind went blank and you instinctively followed the movements of the man in front of you. You lead him to this point, but with the permission you gave him, he followed his desires. You wanted him to want more, he barely asks for things and he deserved to be spoiled.

His hands found the edge of your shirt, placing his cold hands underneath onto your bare waist, rubbing the skin with his thumbs.

You shuddered. He watched the tremor in your body, resting his nose next to yours. Dwelling in intimacy and shaky breaths.

Once his hands started to warm against your heated skin, you looked up to him. Watching his reddened skin. Maybe you can mention the mug now.

“Jay…I broke—“

Jason was too infatuated with the moment and holding you in his embrace that he didn’t comprehend anything you were saying. He took advantage of your mouth opening to deepen the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, to keep yourself from falling and to somehow find a way to merge your body with his.

You took a sudden breath, releasing yourself from Jason’s mouth. A sudden…hunger in his eyes as he watched you breathe. You gripped onto the handle of the mug and Jason’s broad shoulder, overwhelmed by the combination of Jason’s touch, breathing and look.

He must’ve not felt any different as he nipped at your jaw, using his hand to cup your neck and angle your face up to give him more access.

“Jay—“ You breathlessly pleaded.

Clink.

The handle of the mug broke off, leaving the handle in your hand and the rest of the cup bouncing off of Jason’s back and shattering on the floor.

Both of your movements stop as Jason shoves you behind him, shielding you from the imaginary attacker.

You could only see the back of his shoulders and his flushed ears peaking out as you looked at the broken handle still in your hand.

“Jay…it’s fine.” You tapped his shoulder to point to the cup broken on the ground. “It’s my fault.”

“Wha?” Jason asked, still breathless as he was ready in attack mode.

“I was trying to tell you, but I—got distracted.” You cleared your throat.

Jason leaned down taking some of the broken pieces near his boot in his hands. Recognizing the fragments once he got a closer look.

“I’m sorry. I tried to fix it, but then I guess super glue isn’t as reliable as I thought—“

“Sweetheart—“ Jason soothed as he stood up.

“Then I forgot about the time and you came back before I could figure out what to do. I can buy you a new one—“

“Sweetheart, it’s okay.” He placed his hand under your chin, grabbing your attention. “It’s really alright.”

“But look at it.” You defeatedly gestured to the broken handle still clutched in your hand.

Jason could only laugh watching his partner sadly show him the aftermath of their handiwork, his full set of teeth visible, giving him the cute boyish look you loved.

“You don’t have to apologize, it’s really okay.” He grabbed the handle out of your hands. “I’m glad you didn’t cut yourself from the broken pieces, but we don’t need to fix it.”

He had a smirk on his face.

“Especially with super glue.”

“Hey! I had to use what we had in the drawers.” You puffed.

He placed the pieces on the counter. Carefully moving you to the couch, so you don’t step on any sharp pieces. Cleaning up the mess of his cup.

You silently watched, making you feel worse. Jay noticed your sullen look and consoled you as he swept up any left over pieces.

“I have shoes on still and your in your socks, I just want to make sure it’s safe.”

You frowned further.

A small tender smile spread across his face as he properly disposed of the remaining pieces and walked over to the couch. Your eyes followed his form as he kneeled in front of you, making him sit just below your eye level with your legs in between his, gently taking your hands in his as he methodically rubbed your skin with his thumb. His hands were warm now, probably from your earlier…activity.

“My love, it’s okay. We can replace it or get an entirely new one.”

“But it was a matching set.” You rubbed his hands back.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t choose a new set.” You looked up from both of your hands to his gentle gaze, filled with so much warmth and understanding. “I’ve been meaning to take us to that new pottery place you talked about. We can each make a mug, okay, sweetheart?”

You brought his hands to your lips, gently placing a kiss on his rough hands. A mesmerizing hum left Jason’s mouth.

“Can you make one for me and can I make one for you?” You quietly asked.

Jason laughed, the cute smile poking through again.

“I would love that.”

Maybe breaking Jason’s mug wasn’t so bad after all.

…

Your date to the pottery place was even better than you expected. You got to try something new, Jason made a few cheesy Ghost pottery scene jokes that the instructor probably heard too often and you got to watch Jason’s hands intricately make your brand new mug.

You were internally thanking your clumsiness for breaking his cup earlier in the week and blessing you with the scene of your boyfriend’s biceps. You wish you could brand the memory into your eyes.

Now you tried to concentrate as you painted Jason’s mug. You both decided on painting things about the other person onto the cup, a completely unique design.

You managed to decide on an overall simple red color (surprising, I know), paint a wonder woman emblem and a simplified doodle of Jason’s face. It was your proudest work.

You even snuck in a clumsily written “I love you” with a tiny Red Hood doodle at the bottom of the inside of the cup. A cheesy surprise for him.

“I don’t think I’m made for the arts.” Jason carefully held the paint brush in his hands.

“Don’t say that, your mug shape looks better than mine. Sorry that I made yours a little wonky.” You looked at the slightly slanted rim of the mug.

“I love wonky. You know me so well.” He playfully flirted.

You chuckled at your love-struck boyfriend. You could have given him a ball of clay and he would’ve proudly kept it on his nightstand. You just rolled your eyes at him, knowingly that you also didn’t care if Jason bought a plain cup and handed it to you. You would love it all the same.

A small quiet silence, both lost in your individual masterpieces. You looked up to watch Jay, who concentrated with furrowed brows, trying to add his iconic red bat symbol to your cup. When you noticed he also painted a couple cracks around the handle, clearly digging at the broken handle you religiously held onto earlier that week.

“You’re never going to let that down.” You sighed.

“Huh?”

You pointed at the handle, a smirk appearing on his face.

“Of course, sweetheart, I wish I could’ve gotten a picture of how sad you looked. I would’ve made it my wallpaper.” He chuckled.

“Don’t make fun of me, I was really nervous about telling you. And I lost a pair of sweats because the super glue decided to permanently close my pocket.”

“I’m not, I thought it was cute.” He looked up from your mug. “Besides I already saw it when I crawled into the apartment.”

“What!?” You almost shouted. “What do you mean? You knew?”

“I didn’t know anything, just saw it, but you gave yourself away after you called me ‘my love’ and then I just wanted to see what you were planning.” He finished painting the outline of his iconic bat symbol. “You always call me that when you’re up to something.”

“That’s embarrassing.” You put your paint brush on the table, attempting to cover your flushed face with the back of your hand, careful to not put any paint on your face. “I thought I managed to get past you, but I guess making out doesn’t really count as a distraction.”

“Oh, no, I was distracted, so I guess your plan worked.” He placed his finished work on the table. “But, you’ll have to try harder next time, my love.”

He was getting too cocky now.

“If I tried harder, you would have a hard time getting up in the morning, my love.” You teased.

Jason’s eyes widened. A second to process what you said, then a brazen look in his eye appeared.

“What if that’s my plan all along, my love?” He shamelessly asked.

You leaned in closer to Jason’s side, hiding your voice away from the other customers in the shop.

“One of us isn’t going to be able to walk and it won’t be me.” You joked, both of you laughing at one another. You moved away from Jason. “I think we better stop before we get kicked out, your Ghost jokes earlier already have us on the instructor’s last straw. If it’s not cringy jokes, we’ll be kicked out for indecency.”

“There goes my plans of making out next to the kiln.” Jason shook his head. “I guess it would be bad if we couldn’t pick up our mugs later.”

Your eyes widened at your boyfriends hidden plans. A small twinkle of mischievousness in his eyes.

“We have to change up our make out spots once in a while, can’t let them catch on.” You playfully nudged his arm.

Jason smiled and brought your hands up to his mouth, a small kiss on your knuckles that were covered in paint.

A flutter inched in your stomach at the brief contact.

“Then we should schedule a knitting class tomorrow.”

[daimus]

people have done this before, but not us

You’ve known Oliver since you were best friends with his little sister in elementary school. Somehow, it never occurred to you that he’s also just a man with desires. 

wc — 4.9k

tags — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, dry humping, grinding, Oliver Aiku sex tutor lol, childhood friends, inexperienced reader to the point of disbelief, best friend’s older brother but it’s less relevant than I thought it was going to be bc I didn’t feel like making up a whole new character for his sister, title from during the impossible age of everyone by Ada Limon (sorry for using it like this)

“He said you’re off limits,” Bachira says. 

“How did you get in my room?” 

Bachira’s laying on his stomach on the edge of your bed, his legs dangling off the edge. He’s kicking them like a toddler, cute almost, but his eyes are shrewd. 

“Oli said that his friend is coming to watch, but we can’t talk to her, and normally he doesn’t mind sharing, so I was like huh, she must be special to him. So I had to come see you for myself, right?”

“Uh huh,” you say, not really keeping up. There’s a tinge of annoyance building in you too, for more reasons than one. 

“So I thought about it! And the only place they would’ve kept you is-“ 

“Help!” You scream at the top of your lungs. “There’s a strange guy in my room! Help me!” 

Bachira bolts up, reaching for you, but you squirm away. “Stop,” he hisses, alarmed, but it’s too late. 

The door flies open, revealing Oliver, completely unamused. 

“Your friend is stuck up,” Bachira whines, but he doesn’t really seem angry, just mildly inconvenienced that his plan didn’t work. 

“I told you not to even look at her,” Oliver scolds. “You Blue Lock boys couldn’t listen to directions if it killed you.” 

“If it killed me-“

“Just go,” Oliver groans. “Now.” 

When it’s just the two of you, Oliver looks different. The transformation happens in seconds, so quick you wouldn’t know it was there unless you knew to look for it. It’s nothing so obvious as an expression, just the slightest shift in the line of his lips, a certain ease to the heft of his shoulders. 

He comes and sits next to you on your bed, where you’re blotting at the wet spot you think Bachira might’ve drooled into it. How long was he in here? Enough to take a nap? 

“I’m sorry.” 

You sniff with an air of haughtiness, but really you’re only mildly annoyed. You just want him to pay attention to you, and he will if he thinks you’re upset. He always does. “I thought Blue Lock would have better security.” 

“We don’t have any security, actually.” 

“What? But you guys are famous now.” 

He shrugs. “Ego rented out the whole hotel for Blue Lock and friends and family. There’s security outside to keep people from getting in. But inside? Nothing. I think he’s insane, personally. No telling what those boys will get up to. I was a teenager once, I would know.” 

“Talking like a grandpa already,” you say with a laugh. 

“You little-“ He pushes you down into the sheets, messing with your hair. “I’ll show you a grandpa.” 

“I think he drooled on my bed,” you frown. “Where am I going to sleep tonight?”

“We can share my room,” he says easily, casually. “Like we used to.” 

But we used to was over ten years ago. 

Oliver is gone when you wake up, which he warned you he was going to be. He offered to make breakfast, but you told him it was impossible to wake up at the same time as his insane footballer schedule, so instead you trickle into the cafeteria with the other aforementioned friends and family. No Blue Lock boys - they’ve been ready for hours. 

When you try to unlock the stadium doors with your priority pass, you find you can’t. The light flashes red over and over again - you’re beginning to feel embarrassed. 

“Fucking - work, goddamnit,” you hiss under your breath as the lock emits a loud buzzing noise for what feels like the twentieth time. 

“Here.” He’s your age, white and green hair, sleepy eyes. “Let me.” 

He introduces himself to you as Otoya. It’s a very memorable experience, since he also gives you his phone number, his Instagram, and his room number. Just in case, you know. 

You can practically hear Oliver’s voice in your head, telling you to stay away from him, except it’s not in your head, and he’s walking up, warning Ootoya not to mess with you. 

“Are you following me?” 

This feels like a reasonable assumption to make, but he rolls his eyes at you. Then he says, “Of course I’m following you, you idiot. Did you listen to anything I said last night? This is a facility full of hormonal teenage boys - my sister would kill me if I let anything happen to you.” 

His sister. Right. 

Otoya looks between the two of you. “Sorry, Oliver. Didn’t know she was yours.” 

You want to jump in with a protestation because first of all, you’re not, and secondly, that feels demeaning, but Oliver pulls you into his side in a way that makes it clear you’re under his protection. He just tucks you into the space beneath his arm like a mother hen, folding you away until you’re barely visible behind him.

“Well, she is,” Oliver says. 

It does something funny to you, hearing him call you his. 

It’s almost a pity that Oliver invited you, because you don’t really care about football. At this point, you can’t even really be bothered to pretend to care either, except for the really important matches, the ones where Oliver’s eyes sparkle and you can tell he’s actually invested in who he’s up against. Otherwise, football is a job like any other. People don’t get it. They’re always begging you for tickets to games, but you’ve been friends for so long that, well, it’s like being excited about a big project at your friend’s company. Yay! Profit! 

As far as you can tell, the match goes smoothly. It’s the after party that you have to worry about. 

Otoya makes a beeline for you as soon as you slip through the door, which really shows the amount of authority that Oliver has in here. 

“Fancy seeing you again,” he says cheerfully. 

“I think everyone’s here,” your response is dry. Oliver did tell you to be careful around him, after all - although he said the same thing about every other man in here that isn’t him. Overprotective much? 

Your standoffishness doesn’t bother Otoya. 

“Come on, don’t be like that. I don’t know what Oliver’s told you, but I’m not a bad guy.” 

“Right,” you don’t even look up from your phone. This is awkward. You don’t know anyone here. 

“Oliver’s worse, I would say.” Your head snaps up. “Oh, that got your attention.” 

You can’t resist it. Oliver’s your favorite thing to talk about. “How so?” 

“Let’s just say that if you like Oliver-“ 

“I don’t-“

“You should stay away from him for tonight. For your own good. He has a bad habit he has to indulge with a different girl every night. Just hang out with me instead,” he says with a rakish smile. 

“You’re just trying to get me to spend time with you.” 

“I mean yeah, but it’s true. Oliver’s…Oliver. You know?”

“No?” 

“No,” says Oliver. “She doesn’t. Because she doesn’t believe whatever ridiculous ideas you’re putting in her head.” 

“Oliver!” You brighten up and snuggle into him. He wraps a warm arm around your shoulders, radiating heat all the way through your body. 

“I’m ridiculous? You’re a stalker, man - how many times have you interrupted us already?”

“Only twice, and there won’t be a third time. Go find some other girl to bother. I mean it, Otoya.” He squeezes your shoulders. “This one’s mine.” 

The second time, it doesn’t feel as nice. He only says it when he wants people to leave you alone. He doesn’t mean to condescend, but the way he acts sometimes makes you wonder if he ever really understood that you grew up with him, or if he always sees the little girl from his childhood when he looks at you. He only claims you to make other people leave you alone. 

He sighs with relief when Otoya finally slips past the two of you, grumbling under his breath. 

“What were you talking about?” 

“You mean, what did he say about you?”

He breaks into a crooked smile and hands you a glass of water off a nearby table. “Caught me.” 

“He just implied that you’re a flirt.”

“Just? Or did he make it sound like I’ve been slutting it up in the NEL?”

“I hate the way people talk about you.”

He softens. “It’s not…it’s not wrong.” 

You turn to him, grabbing his face in your hands. “It is,” you insist fervently. “I know you’re not like that. You’re good, Oliver.”

You’re both liars, but it’s a game you like to play. You like to believe that he’s good and he likes to pretend he’s good for you. 

He’s always loved the way you grew up worshipping him. 

“Want to get out of here?”

You nod. 

You’re his little sister’s best friend. You used to idolize him. He was your knight in shining armor, your schoolyard savior. He walked you home after late club meetings and bought you ice cream at the convenience store when you thought $5 was a fortune. 

You love him, but you can’t tell if you love the idea of him or the man himself more. Oliver doesn’t seem to mind himself. In fact, he feeds into your fantasies. 

You know you’re the only girl he won’t fuck. 

On the tiny couch in his room, only slightly more furnished than everyone else’s due to his coveted title as captain, Oliver settles in next to you, momentarily bending down to sweep your legs into his lap. It’s so casual and so fast you don’t even register it. His thumb swoops comforting circles over the jut of your ankle, but his hand feels almost like a brace with the way it’s positioned, locking you down. 

You squirm a little to see how much give your makeshift anklet will allow you, but he playfully smacks your calf and says, low and throaty, with the rasp of a growl underneath his tone, “Settle down.” 

You stiffen like a log. He laughs and runs a hand up and down over your leg, smoothing imaginary wrinkles in the fabric. “Not like that, idiot.” 

Cute like a little sister. Cute like a kid. For Oliver, you’re all the warmth of home and domesticity. You could never bear to take that away from him, no matter how corrupted you’ve become, like every other greedy adult, sin burning like coals in your stomach and loins. You want to let him think you don’t know desire. 

You fall asleep on the couch like that, his warmth bleeding into you everywhere. 

The morning after, he makes you instant coffee as he tidies up his suitcase. You’ll be leaving together. He’s taking you home. He insisted. 

“Oliver,” you start. He hums to show you he’s listening. “Why do you fuck?”

He chokes. “Excuse me?”

“Is it like a medical condition? Like your dick will fall off if you don’t sleep with someone every night?” 

He walks over and kisses the top of your head. “You’re so cute,” he says fondly. “And ridiculous. And naïve. Don’t ask anyone else that, okay?”

“I’m not stupid.” 

“I do it because I want to. And it’s not every night, it’s just when I want to feel good.” 

“How good?”

He flicks your cheek. “This is some bold questioning, young lady.” 

Your cheeks are warm. Despite the fact that Oliver is obviously a sexual person, to the point where all his teammates know, he’s a curiously desexualized person in your head. You’ve just never thought of him that way, always separated the warm, sheltering bordering on smothering presence in your life from that. 

But now you go home with your face on fire, trying too hard not to think about what he looks like when he’s fucking into a tight little hole. What he sounds like when he’s close. 

Stop avoiding me. 

Shame burns through you at the text a few days later. You know he knows, because how could he not catch on? You’ve always been latched on to his every word, running to your phone when you get the tell tale notification, and now you lets hours pass between replies. 

You better be coming to dinner with us later. 

Dinner with the Aikus is always an affair, more so now that his little sister has gone off to college in another country. It’s in their blood, the itch to start over, be someone new in someplace new. You’d grown apart by then, but you still cried seeing her off. Oliver let you bury your face in his shoulder and soak his shirt wet with tears. 

Years ago, you’d never imagined, even in your wildest dreams, that you’d be closer to him than her, but some things change. 

And some things don’t. 

The Aiku family car is still always stuffed with random things, momentous from childhood, Oliver’s old soccer ball, some miscellaneous donations left over from cleaning out his sister’s room. They’re apologetic that there’s no space for you to sit, but you can just sit on Oliver’s lap, can’t you? Just like the old days, Mr. and Mrs. Aiku laugh to themselves in the front, reminiscing while you press your legs together and try very hard not to pant disgustingly lewdly into Oliver’s ear. 

He has a hand on your hip, the other on your thigh. Is it just you or does this feel- the car hits a bump and Oliver’s grip tightens, steadying you. 

It’s just you. A wave of shame washes over you at how obscene you are, lusting after Oliver when he’s just trying to keep you safe. 

“Comfortable?” He murmurs, pressing his cheek against your shoulder briefly. He’s a tactile person, always soothing with a touch or a kiss. 

You can’t say no, so you settle for a strangled ‘mm-hm,’ but you can’t get settled. You keep shifting on his lap, trying not to give away how bothered you are. Every time your mind drifts, you think about Oliver’s hand creeping up your leg and- 

You wriggle again. 

“Stop that,” he says. His voice is stern. “Don’t make me hold you down.” 

“Sorry,” you squeak. He sounds weird. Strangled. 

You feel something hard pressing against the underside of your leg and try to adjust again. Oliver hisses and pulls you against him, his arms like a straitjacket. 

“I said stop,” he hisses in your ear. 

The realization dawns on you like ice down your back. 

He’s hard. 

You can feel it through his pants. 

When you get to the restaurant, you practically jump off of him. He discreetly adjusts his cock in his trousers and runs off to the bathroom. By the time he returns, Mrs. Aiku has given up on waiting and already ordered for him. 

They’re a close family. She knows him. And, she says fondly, a hand over yours, she knows you. 

It’s nice to be loved like that. 

You’re sitting on the steps outside their house, waiting for Oliver to grab his coat to drive you home, when he sits down next to you. “Just give me a second,” he says. “Let’s not go yet.” 

You lean his head on his shoulder. It’s surprisingly easy to act like nothing ever happened in the car. Your body naturally relaxes around him. 

But even with all your defenses down, Oliver doesn’t take advantage of them, when you know for a fact that he would pounce on some other girl. 

Does he think you’re ugly? Or too inexperienced? 

Well, one of those you can fix. 

“You don’t know how to kiss, do you?” Says the stranger. His lips pull in a smile and you’re aware that he’s laughing at you. 

You don’t know why you ever thought you could do this without Oliver, not when he’s spoiled you your whole life. You’re too used to being pampered to strike out on your own. 

In his apartment, a mug of hot tea warms your palms. You’re not going to drink it, it’s just nice to have. You trace the contours of a cartoon face, some gift you brought back from it when you visited his sister abroad, and let him scold you. 

You deserve it, you think, for being such an idiot about this. But Oliver always reduces you into stupidity.

“Why,” Oliver looks exasperated, “did you let some random guy you don’t even like kiss you?” 

You didn’t cry when you were at the cafe and the guy you met on some dating app was publicly laughing at your inexperience, your sloppy way of kissing, but for some reason, Oliver’s sharp tone makes tears well up in your eyes. It’s not like you expected him to be on your side - you knew he was going to tease you at the very least - but you’ve had a bad day and it hurts. 

You don’t want to be chastised right now, you want to be cuddled.  

“I’m sorry,” he softens. “I’m not being fair. I’m sorry, baby, I’m not blaming you, don’t cry. It’s not your fault.” 

Your lip trembles as you try uselessly to stay composed. You want him to hold you and tell you everything will be alright. 

He does something similar, but not quite. 

“Could’ve just asked me,” he jokes. Then he reaches over and grips your chin, tugging your head around a little. “Pay attention. I see your expression. I’m being serious, you should’ve asked me. I would’ve treated you right, not some random guy.” 

“Right,” you roll your eyes. Oliver has never been interested in you, which is why you had to find someone else in the first place. 

He forces you to look at him again by his hold on your face, not letting you hide from him. Your face burns with embarrassment, staring dead into his eyes. He looks horribly sincere and it cuts through you like a knife. 

“When have I ever lied to you?” His voice is soft in a way it only gets for you. “Come on, baby. I’ll show you how to kiss. I’d rather it be me than some random.” 

“Really?”

“Just think about it like practice, okay?” 

He guides you to his couch, familiar for your platonic movie nights and cuddles, but this time, he tugs you down into his lap. You collapse onto him with a startled ‘oof,’ as he wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles into your hair. 

“Just practice, okay?” He reiterates, as if he needs you to confirm. 

“Uh-huh,” your voice shakes. He’s so close, and so warm, and he smells incredible, woody and spicy and masculine. He laughs under his breath, laughing more when you kick him. 

“Stop,” you plead, “I don’t know how! Don’t make fun of me…” 

He rests his cheek against yours as your voice tapers off. “I’m not laughing at you, honey,” he coos, “don’t be upset with me. You’re just so cute.” 

You hit him again. 

“So-“ He grabs your chin between two fingers and jerks you around a little, watching the way you struggle to keep up with him. “Eager. Like a puppy. You don’t know how to clean up your own messes yet, right, baby?” 

He kisses your pout away. “Ah-ah,” he murmurs. “There you go again. Match my pace.” 

But you want more and you let him know it, trying to slip your way into his mouth so you can suck on his tongue again. It feels good in a way that makes you a little ashamed of yourself, wet in your panties from a little kissing. You can imagine how you look from his perspective, drooling into his mouth, panting and messy with saliva smeared across your lips. 

You know you shouldn’t be acting like this, but this sloppy kissing only makes you burn hotter. The back of your neck is flushed with desire. You almost feel scalded by wanting, feeling the hardness of his body pressed up against yours, the strength of his thighs underneath your legs, the iron grip of his fingers, toying at first with the edge of your shirt, brushing against your skin in fleeting butterfly kisses, before finally giving in and branding you, digging into your soft skin. 

Losing control like this is something you’re not used to, but you’re so desperate you can’t help yourself. You’re scared he can hear the sticky slide of your thighs against each other even though you know it’s just your imagination. Even if logically you understand this to be an impossibility, feeling so good you can’t control yourself has you throbbing. Your cunt feels like a second pulse between your legs, drooling pitifully with want. 

He pulls back again to your discontent. You can practically visualize steam rising off your heated body with the way you melt against him, more of a vessel for desire than a real girl. 

“Slow down,” he murmurs, pressing a chaste, close mouthed kiss to your lips against your cries for more. His hands skim your sides lightly, fleeting touches that disappear and reappear. “It’ll feel better if you let it build.” 

But you’re so feverish you can’t think, reduced to nothing but exposed nerve endings that need touch, need him. He moans into your mouth, finally letting you suck on his tongue again. His free hand comes up to wipe at the drool that’s dripping out of one corner of your lips, popping his thumb into his mouth to lap it away. 

You can’t help your teary eyed face or the sniffles, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He angles his head so he can kiss you harder. You hate to admit it, but he’s right. Letting it slowly build makes this so much hotter, his hands in your hair, lightly scratching your scalp as he kisses you like he’s starving. You suck in air through your nose desperately, still feeling short of breath and almost high as he presses your body into his like he could eat you alive. 

It doesn’t feel like kissing anymore. It feels like he’s trying to erase what makes you you and him him, to break down everything the two of you are until you can become one full being. 

You so distracted you don’t even notice what you’re doing until he bounces his leg a little, helping you grind against him. 

That sends shock jolting down your spine like an ice bath. He wraps his arm around you, locking you down in what might as well be a steel cage for how helpless you are against him, preventing you from clambering off his lap. 

“It’s okay,” he coos. “Aw, baby, my baby, don’t look so upset, nothing’s wrong. You’re just a little excited, that’s all,” and he drags you back down so he can bounce his leg for you again, watching the way you gasp and droop against his arm for support. He’s practically holding you up, his arm stiff behind your back as he lets you grind almost mindlessly against his thigh. 

“There you go,” he murmurs, “don’t stop, it’s okay.” 

His voice is syrupy sweet, almost condescending - no, definitely condescending, like he can get you off better than you can. 

And you believe it, trying to stop yourself, even though it feels so good that you can’t keep yourself from humping his leg even as your brain tries to scream at you to stop, that this is too far past ‘just practice.’ 

He lets you grind on his thigh like that for a while before you notice, too focused on chasing your own pleasure to be fully aware of anything else. You can feel him hard under you, accentuated by the fact that he’s obviously trying to subtly shift your weight off his dick directly so you don’t notice. You settle in, watching him with wide, innocent eyes. He exhales softly, trying to control the rasp in his voice as he politely asks you to get off him. He knows he’s caught. 

“Who’s excited now?” You laugh softly. A thought strikes you. He shivers as you blow cool air into his ear, his head tipped back, throat exposed. You can see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard. 

“You minx,” he mutters against you, a complaint accentuated by nipping your lower lip. “I didn’t make fun of you.” 

“Your loss,” you shrug. “It’s so fun,” and you bear your weight down against him again until he whines, straining up against you. That feels good enough that you have to grip his shoulder again for purchase, feeling his heat press up against the sticky mess of your panties. 

“Stop, you have to get off,” he chokes out. “I’m not going to- Please, I’m going to-“ 

“Why?” You frown. “I want to.” 

“Come on baby,” he says. “You’re going to make me cum in my pants. Get off.” 

You roll your hips down against him again and again, shuddering as you feel yourself leak more. He jolts against you, straining against his jeans. You can see a wet spot where you’ve pressed against him. 

“Yes-s-s,” your voice is staccato in delivery. “Please.” 

He grips your waist so hard you can’t move. You can feel your skin bruising under his fingers, surprising yourself with how much you want it. 

“Don’t do this,” he says softly. “I’ll take advantage of you.” 

“You’re killing the mood,” you snap back. “If you don’t, I’ll find someone who-“ 

It’s an empty threat, but his eyes narrow. He says nothing, just dips his head to your neck. The first graze of his tongue across your skin makes you jerk with surprise, but then it’s warm and wet and pleasurable and a little painful. Each brush of his lips brings an electric shock with it that feels heady. 

He’s trying to distract you. It’s working. 

“Inside,” you whimper. “Please? Please?” 

You sound pathetic. You sound desperate. You can’t help it, can’t even make a more convincing argument with all the blood in your brain migrating somewhere else. 

“No,” he groans. “Fine, just stay- just like this.” 

His hands move your hips until you’re grinding with him, rocking down into each thrust upwards. It builds and builds, a pressurized heat in your stomach that feels almost like fear, until you swear your whole body is thrumming with a force that you can’t explain. 

Oliver’s relentless, each thrust matching the way he drags you down until your clit hits the fly of his jeans, the friction sweet. “F-fuck,” he grunts. “You feel so good, you’re so pretty, so good for me.” 

You nod helplessly, riding the motion of his arms and legs, letting him do all the work. He shows you how to do it. He’s always led the way you for you, let you hide in his shadow as he was brave. 

He smells so good. You don’t know why this, of all things, is the only coherent thought in your head. 

You can’t speak, can barely breathe, robbed of anything but this steady, building pressure inside of you, beautiful and thorned and dangerous. You don’t know what’s going to happen when it breaks, but you your blood feels like it’s been spiked. 

He makes it first, yelping as his hips stutter against you, then falter. You can feel his cock twitching under you, but he doesn’t move.  

“Oliver?” Your voice is too loud in the silence. You’re almost annoyed by the interruption - you were so close. Your brain wants to go back to pleasurable mush, that fuzzy, colorful, sparking world of satisfaction. 

“Give me a second,” he gasps. “I think I just came in my pants.”

You tilt your head in a way you know he’ll find cute and grind experimentally down. 

He grabs your waist immediately. “You little brat,” he says, more amused than angry. “Stop that, I’m sensitive.” 

You pout. “What about me?”

“Don’t be stupid,” he says. “Of course I’ll take care of you.” 

Your panties are translucent, outlining the contours of your pussy. Oliver groans and presses his fingers up against the wet fabric, playing with you through it until you squeal and snap your thighs shut around his hand. He runs a soothing hand over the soft flesh of your outer thigh, shifts the soaked gusset aside so he can press in deeper, and keeps going until you’re whining and sobbing and making all sorts of noises that sound more at home from an animal than a person, but he doesn’t seem disgusted. If anything, it spurs him on, trying to coax you into completely breaking down. 

You slump forward against him, spent, and he turns his head a little so he can brush your hair over one shoulder and press a brief, soft kiss against your neck. His fingers toy idly with the hem of your now destroyed panties, occasionally brushing against your clit in a way that sends a painfully pleasurable zing up your spine. 

“Should I give you a taste of your own medicine?” 

You shiver and shake your head, still wondering even as you deny it if you can take more, but he laughs against you, husky and low. 

“I know baby, I know. No more.” 

[ventique18]

Lilia: "This voice... Levan?! You, when did you return... No, but those horns are Meleanor's..."

Lilia for a while confuses Malleus for Levan... He only doubted himself because of the horns... Do y'all remember who has a similar build/hair color/skin tone/lip shade as Malleus...

"Those old fools of a senate... How dare they..."

"AND GRANDMOTHER AS WELL! Why have they kept the truth from me all this time?!"

OMG! He didn't know that Lilia hatched him... Lilia tries to calm him down and says that it was him who told them not to say tell. Because if he knew the truth, then he might feel guilty.

At this point Lilia begins to mix up reality and memory. He's questioning why he's calling this person Malleus when Malleus still isn't supposed to know how to walk on two legs. Malleus soothes him, saying that it's alright, Lilia doesn't have to think, and he doesn't have to suffer anymore.

Malleus: "What dream would you like to have? A dream where both father and mother are alive? Or would you prefer a dream where you and your son live peaceful lives?

"I will give you anything and everything you wish for. Now, Lilia, take my..."

Silver: "FATHER---!!!!!"

Lilia is still confused and mixes up things, and Malleus looks at Silver and Sebek exasperatedly, as if they're pests that keep on popping up. That they being awake is bad, and that they should go back to sleep. Silver objects and Sebek tells him that there's no way a man born from so much love should grow up to be villainous and hated by the entire world.

Silver: "And that's why we will definitely defeat you. Lord Malleus... YOUR "BLESSING"!"

Because of that keyword, Lilia finally remembers everything that happened.

Lilia: "Well said. That's my disciples for you."

Lilia: "I must have taken a very long nap. Now you've done it, Malleus!"

Malleus: "Tsk. You've truly woken up, Lilia! But you need not worry. I will tuck you back to bed very soon."

Lilia: "Ha! Did you just say you will tuck me to bed? You've grown cocky, haven't you? Then do your worst!"

Lilia: "Everyone, after me!"

LILIA: "IT'S TIME TO RUN--!!"

OMFG LOL LILIA???? Malleus laughs "Are we playing tag? It's been far too long since we've played like this."

"We have all the time in the world. Why don't we have a bit of fun, Lilia!" *CUE UNHINGED FUCKING LAUGHTER HOLY SHIT THAT WAS CREEPY AS HELL

[stuckinmymind22]

zoro x gn! reader

wc: 663

this is the first part of a series "you're in love with me" where you realize that they are in love with you can call them out on it

thanks for voting on this one, i had fun with it, sorry it took so long, i got busy with the holidays, but it’s here now 💕

ace's is done and will be up probably tomorrow and i'm gonna start on sanjis, but lmk if you are interested in any other characters

mildly proof read lol

this goes one of two ways, in both you're being called stupid, both included

it's a chose your own adventure babe!

zoro has been acting strange recently- he was almost too quick to come to your aid, even if it was something you both knew you could handle alone. he’s also been making sure that you eat. recently he brought up a plate for you when you were on duty in the crow’s nest. sure, the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks were tinted pink, but that was easy to write off as a consequence of the alcohol that was surely in his veins. but he didn’t leave right away like you thought he would, he stood on the ladder without moving until he saw you take your first bite. on the last island there had been a miscalculation in your provisions and the ship was running dangerously low on alcohol. there was no doubt that the crew was going to run dry shy of meeting their next destination, which was a bigger deal to some of the straw hats than others. it all brings you to the moment he offers you a sip of the last bottle of sake. you’re speechless. you always thought that hell sure would freeze over before he shared his booze and here he is willingly offering you some. you’re trying to figure out what was going on in his head, why he has been acting so strange, then it hits you.  “you’re in love with me.”

denial is a river in egypt

“did you hit your head or sum?” he asks, trying to remain as impartial as possible, but you didn’t miss how he nearly choked at your words. “no, zo, this makes sense,” you say connecting the dots, "you've been acting real weird about me recently, this explains it." you aren’t about to back down from this, not after you wanted this for so long, not until he admits it to himself. “you’re being an idiot,” he rolls his eyes, “do you want some or not?” with a smile you grab the bottle out of his hand and take a swig, sitting down next to him. “i don’t mind you know,” you say taking another sip, “that you love me that is” zoro is confused why he is so drawn to the dangerous smile that plays on your lips. he shakes himself out of it snatching back the bottle and taking a long gulp. you get pulled away by luffy wanting something, but he still feels your presence.  little do you know how those words haunt him for the rest of the night. fuck, you might be right

he's down bad and he knows it

“n-no I’m not,” zoro sputters, his face alight, “are you stupid or something?” “no, no, this is why you’ve been acting strange,” you say, the weight of your revelation still sinking in. “that’s why you haven’t let me out of your sight for the past week, right?” you don’t give him time to respond (not that he would be able to formulate a coherent response anyway). you continue listing all of his abnormal behaviors and fail to notice how his face grows redder with your every word. poor zoro is sinking into his seat hoping to disappear he’s so uncomfortable. he’s certain that he messed everything up and has no idea what to do now. he knows that you’re right of course, it’s kept him up at night, kept him from his precious naps. it took him a while to realize why you never left his mind, and the determining factor came from the fucking cook spewing some bullshit to a pretty woman on the last island. just when he is certain that he ruined whatever relationship you could ever have you turn to him with a big smile.  “it’s a good thing you are though, or else this would be awkward,” you tell him, before he can even think to question what you mean your lips are on his and his brain malfunctions.  maybe it’ll be alright.

masterlist

[quin-ns]

Neighborhood Dilf (Joel Miller x Reader)

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: joel finds out he has a nickname and he asks you what it means

Tags: pre-outbreak this is a happy fic guys!! I didn’t specify a year but let’s put it at 2000 for funsies so sarah is like 11 and joel is like 30ish. also fluff, humor, flirting, age gap, goofy plot (I don’t know what this is honestly), joel being the definition of a dilf and not knowing it, crushes, overall cuteness. also suburbia

A/N: I saw a tiktok where someone said they just knew joel was the neighborhood dilf and they were so real for that I had to write it. and no I don’t care that the word was popularized online we’re using it here. I’m here to provide a cute fluffy fanfic not a historically accurate one lol. also sorry if your name is bee, I tried to come up with a name for the friend that was a nickname so if it was someone’s actual name they could just imagine their full name (I overthink)

TLOU masterlist + main masterlist

The loud music coming from outside woke you up from your afternoon nap. After spending a semester at college struggling to find even an hour of sleep, you were taking as many of those as possible. You were a little grouchy at first as you threw your covers off and stormed to your window, but quickly calmed down when you realized it was the annual block party your neighborhood hosted during the summer.

You’d gotten an in-person invite from Bee, another girl home from college who you’d been friends with in high school before going your separate ways. You still kept in touch since she was nice enough, which is how you found out her family was hosting this year. She’d confided in you personally that she would quote “go crazy if it was all kids and old people.”

As you looked out into their front yard, which was diagonal to yours, you saw that’s pretty much all it was. Since you were such a good friend, you decided that you’d go. 

You were getting dressed (at a leisurely pace) when your phone started to ring. You picked it up from your desk after you pulled your pink sundress on and flipped it open. The caller ID read Bee’s name and you answered, ready to tell her you were on your way.

“He’s here,” she said, sounding mistified, before you could even open your mouth. 

“Who?” you wondered, furrowing your brows a little to yourself as you went to the window.

“The neighborhood dilf,” Bee replied under her breath. 

The nickname made you laugh. It reminded you of high school. It had started as a joke, something you had started calling the new guy who’d moved into the neighborhood with his daughter a few years back. Later you found out his name was Joel Miller, but the nickname spread like wildfire to all the other girls in the neighborhood and it just stuck. 

Everyone knew about it; the girls of course, their confused parents, jealous boys who thought Joel was stealing their attention—the only person who wasn't aware of the moniker (as far as you knew) was Joel. Well, you hoped his daughter didn’t know either. Thankfully, after time, everyone forgot that you had started it. It was a bit embarrassing.

You walked away from the window to your closet and slid on your flip flops—it was summer in Texas, after all.

“You need to get over here, Y/N—what?” the last word sounded distant from the phone. “Yeah, she’s supposed to be on her way,” Bee replied, but to someone else.

“Um, hello?” you asked, waiting.

Bee was quiet for a few seconds, then whisper shouted into the phone, “you’ll never guess what just happened!”

“Let me guess, Joel just walked up and professed his love for you,” you teased, laughing at your own joke. “What, were my parents asking for me or something?” you guessed for real that time, recalling the small bit you had heard her say.

“Unfortunately no, and also no,” she sounded a little too disappointed about the first part, which made you chuckle again. “He did just ask me about you though.”

“Who?”

“The dilf.”

“Just use his name,” you told her with a roll of your eyes, heading out of your room to the stairs. “Wait.” You stopped for a second. “Joel asked about me?” 

“Yeah. I changed my mind, you’re not invited.”  If it wasn’t for her obvious sarcasm you might’ve thought she was serious. “He heard me say your name and asked if you’d be here soon. I—hey!” she yelled, causing you to pull the phone from your ear for a second. You continued your descent down the stairs as she yelled something about ‘kids’ and ‘stay out of there’. “I gotta go,” she said suddenly, then hung up.

You just shook your head with a small, amused smile and left your phone on the counter. Stupid dress and no pockets. 

You headed out the front door and walked across the street towards the party. 

It was in full swing. Music, games, food table—it looked like something out of a magazine. The Grants had a huge front yard—it was one of the nicer houses in the neighborhood—and it seemed like everyone was there. There were kids running around, adults all mingling—some sitting at the fold out tables, others walking around, others chasing their kids—there was also a group of dads surrounding the grill. You glanced that way and didn’t see Joel. You wondered where he was and if you should find him, but Bee found you first.

“The kids aren’t supposed to go inside alone and two of those little jerks went into my room,” Bee complained right away, straightening out her white blouse over her jean shorts. Her pinned back brown hair was a little messy, though. You wondered what happened, which she quickly answered. “I saw them jumping on my bed through the window.”

“Sounds like fun,” you commented sarcastically. Bee looped her arm through yours. 

“My dad set up ring toss and it’s all little kids, I don’t wanna be the only adult playing. Come on.” She dragged you along in that direction and you willingly went with.

You saw a few kids from the neighborhood playing, mostly the preteens who were too old for hopscotch but whose parents had told them they weren't old enough for the mini golf (one of the boys had overshared that little comment). 

“Y/N!” a girl's voice called. You looked that way and saw Sarah Miller walking towards you. A few days out of the week when her dad was working late, you’d go over to their house and keep an eye on her (before you left for college). It was the easiest babysitting gig you ever had; she was polite, always did her school work, and hardly caused any problems. Her dad had raised her very well. 

She looked older than you remembered her being, but you had been gone for both fall and spring semesters—well, you had been home for winter break briefly, but not enough to see anyone other than your parents.

“Sarah, hi!” you greeted, accepting the hug she offered when she got close. “How are you?”

“Good!” she said with a smile. “Are you guys gonna play with us?” she asked you and Bee. “I keep beating them and it’s not fun anymore.” 

You and Bee both laughed at that. “Sure, why not.”

“It feels weird playing with her after talking about how hot her dad is,” Bee whispered in your ear when Sarah went first. “You think he’ll come over here?”

“And what would you do if he did?” you challenged while hiding a chuckle, raising your brows at her.

“Um, probably nothing,” she admitted, cheeks a little pink. “He’s fun to look at though.” 

You hummed. “You’re not wrong.” 

The two of you played a few rounds of ring toss, although Bee got very bored quickly. “Can we go get some drinks?” she asked after not that long of playing.

“Sure,” you decided. You waved bye to Sarah and the others as the two of you walked off towards the cooler.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed some of the other girls in the neighborhood that hadn’t been in attendance before. For a couple that you knew, it didn’t seem like their scene. 

“What are they doing here?” you asked Bee.

“I may or may not have also told them the neighborhood dilf was here. They, uh, wanted to… see him,” she answered, avoiding eye contact.

You raised your brows in slight disbelief. “Are you serious?” 

“I wanted more people our age here,” Bee defended. “I wasn’t sure if you were even gonna show.”

You scoffed out a laugh. “You’re ridiculous,” you told her.

You reached the cooler and knelt down. You handed Bee a water, but she didn’t accept it. You looked up at her.

“Keep an eye out for the dilf, I haven’t seen him in a while. I’ll be right back,” Bee told you, taking off before you could say anything. You guessed the bathroom given her speed walking inside.

You laughed a little to yourself as you stood back up. You kept the water for yourself. You looked out amongst the crowd, realizing you were now on your own while everyone was in groups. You saw a couple people you were friends with and thought of maybe going up and joining them, but someone else spotted you first.

Joel Miller, the aforementioned neighborhood dilf, was walking towards you. Bee would be jealous, especially if she knew you and Joel were actually friends.

You had thought about telling Bee and some of the other girls that you were friends with Joel, given how much they just loved to gossip about him (how he was still single, how he looked really good in his pajamas getting the mail, that one time he took his shirt off while mowing the lawn—that was a big day) but then you thought better of it, not wanting to be run out of town by a jealous mob.

You were already getting glances by the time Joel stopped by your side so maybe your humbleness was pointless.

“Saw you all alone, thought I’d come keep you company,” Joel broke the ice with ease.

How long had he been watching you? The thought made your cheeks feel warm.

“Wow, what a gentleman,” you teased lightly, causing Joel to chuckle.

“I try,” he joked back, shooting you a small wink.

When you had first met Joel you were nervous around him. It was much easier to talk to him now that the two of you had become friends rather than acquaintances. He was an easy guy to get along with and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company rather than just gawking at him in his yard from your window (like you used to do in high school). Your crush hadn’t disappeared though, so you joked around with him as a way to keep things casual and avoid getting in your own head. 

“Sarah told me you were finally here, she was happy to see you,” Joel mentioned with a light smile.

That made you smile back. “She’s a sweet kid,” you told him. “I was happy to see her too.”

You fiddled with the water bottle in your hand as you spoke, trying to unscrew the cap. The stupid thing was stuck and after a few seconds you gave up.

Joel gave you an amused look, glancing between your face and hands. “You want help with that?”

“Yes, please,” you handed it to him. “There you go again, proving chivalry isn’t dead. Thank you.”

Joel unscrewed the cap with ease and handed it back. “Happy to be at your service.”

“So, you guys been here a while?” you asked, sparking up conversation.

“Not too long, only an hour or so. It’s been fun though,” Joel explained. “More for Sarah than for me,” he admitted, glancing around to find his daughter. He spotted her and she waved, then continued playing with her friends.

“Why’s that?” you wondered, looking up at him just as he looked down at you. 

“Just… I mean, everyone is nice and all,” he started. “But I just feel like I got nothin’ to talk about with them, y’know? Except you.”

“Really?” You tried to not sound too thrown off by that, but you didn’t know he felt like that. It was interesting to say the least. 

“Is that such a surprise?” he wondered, raising an eyebrow curiously.

You shrugged. “Maybe a little. I get it though, I haven’t really talked to anyone other than Bee yet.”

“I don’t know if you’re friends with them, but I saw a bunch of girls your age walking around,” Joel said as a suggestion. 

“Nah, I’d rather just talk to you,” you said casually, before you could even think about what you had said. The look on Joel’s face changed a little, like he was trying to bite back a bigger smile.

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” he said after a moment. Your eyes met his and the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. You had to look away to be able to breathe, almost certain you were reading into things. You really, really did not want to be disappointed.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Joel said, making you realize you hadn’t spoken yet.

“Sure, yeah.”

“You know… young person lingo, don't you?”

You laughed at the awkward wording. If it had been any of the other adults here using the word “lingo” you would’ve cringed, but there was something cute about the way Joel said it. You tried to snap that thought out of your head.

“Mostly, yeah,” you replied with a little chuckle paired with a curious tone. “What’s up?”

“Do you know what a dilf is?” he asked bluntly. That alone told you he had no idea. 

You were so stunned, all you could think to say was, “why?”

“Well, those girls I mentioned… I overhead some of them calling me that,” he explained, his eyebrows furrowing a little. “It’s not bad, is it?” 

Was this karma coming back to you for starting the nickname? It wouldn’t have surprised you. 

“It’s not bad, no,” you assured while also avoiding the main question.

“What is it then?” Joel’s interest was piqued now and while you couldn’t blame him, you also couldn’t think of a way to make this not weird.

“It’s an acronym,” you started. Joel watched you intently, waiting for an explanation. “It means dad I’d like to…” you trailed off, hinting at him the word to fill in the blank.

Joel just looked even more confused. “To what?”

Somehow he made cluelessness incredibly attractive.

Screw it, you thought. This was already weird. Rip the bandaid off, right? “Fuck,” you finished before you could think better of it. 

“Oh,” he stated. You knew it took a second for realization to hit. “Oh. So that means they, um,”

“It’s basically like saying you’re hot,” you explained, filling in when he couldn’t. You hoped he wouldn’t find it insulting or anything like that.

Joel looked a little bashful but found amusement in the situation nonetheless. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” you suggested, then sipped your water. You looked out at the people milling about rather than meeting his gaze.

“Do you think I’m one?”

You nearly choked on your water. “What?”

“Sorry,” Joel apologized quickly, trying to laugh it off. “I shouldn't've asked that.”

“It’s alright,” you assured him. You paused for a minute, contemplating what you might say to that. You got a rush of bravery. “If you’re asking if I think you’re attractive… the answer is yes.”

Joel couldn’t hold back his smile. He tried, but it was a failed effort. It was like he was trying to contain his anticipation. “What about if I wanted to ask you out? What would your answer be then?”

“Yes.”

Joel grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he admitted. 

“Dad!” Sarah’s voice caused the two of you to look away from one another. You saw her running up to you guys and hoped she hadn’t heard a word of your conversation. “Can you come play with me? Mr. Grant just set up a bean bag toss!” 

“Sure, kiddo,” he told her. She grabbed his hand and started to drag him away. 

You smiled a little to yourself at the interaction—he was such a good dad.

Joel slowed her down a little bit to look back at you. “I’ll call you later, okay?” 

“Sounds good,” you replied, chuckling lightly. 

The Millers disappeared into the roaming people. You tried to follow them with your gaze but your attention got torn away.

“Waiting in a line for the bathroom in my own house is messed up,” Bee said, popping out seemingly out of nowhere. “What’s got you so happy?” she wondered, eyeing the smile on your face that couldn’t be erased.

“You won’t believe what just happened,” you replied. A part of you still couldn’t believe it. “I’ve got a date with the neighborhood dilf.”

joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose @dontphunkwithmylove @cilliansangel @amethystwonders11 @frogsmuahh037 @andy-rocks @melllinaa @alitaar @melanie451 @b00kw0rmsworld @reverieisaway @avengersfan25 @aheadfullofsteverogers @strangeh0rizons @spideysimpossiblegirl @shannonmariebee

if you would like to be added to the joel taglist just send me an ask or a message! <3

[pressureplus]

Hihi!! Back again! (Lmk if you want me to not request so often I don’t want to overwhelm you guys <33)

Could I perchance req a scenario where experiment reader just wants to cuddle with Sebastian (like reader is just snuggled into his chest bc they’re just exhausted.) and then their kid decides to snuggle up on top of the reader?? I genuinely think it’s just a cute idea and I couldn’t stop thinking about it lol

Also!! How are you both? Hope you’re doing well!! <3

-💫

Hello again, 💫, hope you're doing well!

I finally got to that request you thought got eaten by the Tumblr God's like some kind of weird Tumblr Offering. Hope you like it! ❤️

Layers of Fondness

Pairings: Sebastian Solace x GN!Experiment!Reader

Au: [Unnamed]

Warnings: None, I kept this light and fluffy!

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

"Oh, Hello there, little star." Sebastian chuckles when his smaller partner comes up to cuddle him, their form already curling up into his chest from where he's been laying for a while now.

"Are you a sleepy little angel?" He teases them lightly, one of his hands coming up to rub at their back in soothing, wide circles.

"Mmmf." To say Y/N's response is short would be an understatement, but the way that their face is buried in his neck ruffle tells him they definitely don't want to be holding a conversation right now.

Smiling, Sebastian traces comforting shapes on their back and begins to hum, hoping to relieve some of that awful tension that's made his lover so exhausted today. Briefly, he ponders what could have done it this time. Maybe an altercation with another experiment? A stock run gone bad, perhaps?

His questions are answered nearly immediately when he hears the tiny patter of footsteps start to waddle their way into the room.

He can only chuckle and grin that sharp, amused smile when tiny hands emerge up from below the side of the bed and grab fistfuls of the bedding, pulling the small body up and into the covers like the little heathen that it is.

"Ah, Right. The attention-hungry baby." Sebastian snickers to punctuate his comment as the little one wiggles and worms it's way up under it's parent's arm, nuzzling in against the both of them.

"Are you finally ready to sleep? After I've been trying to get you down for a nap for two hours?" Tired, smiling relief comes from Y/N when they wrap both their arms around the needy toddler.

"Mmm..." Their shared child's ear fins twitch and it's light flickers slightly to dim with the low energy.

"Well would you look at that, they sound just like you." Sebastian seems more than a little entertained by his own remark.

"Shut up, fish man." Y/N pouts at him, completely unaware those angry eyes are much less than menacing when they're tired and only melt his fishy heart.

"Don't teach them that!" Sebastian scolds playfully, as though he doesn't say so much meaner than that more often than not, and laughs.

"Shut up!" The little, mostly nonverbal toddler proudly mimicks it's role model in the inconvenient and terribly timed way only tiny children seem to be able to do.

"Look what you've done- now it's gonna take after you!" Y/N's husband playfully jabs again, and feins looking anguished.

"You say that like you didn't marry me." Y/N teases him back.

"You say that like I won't take it back." Sebastian makes an empty, joking threat.

"You won't, we both know you can't live without me." They smile back at him before relaxing again, still so sleepy they can hardly keep their eyes open.

He leans in and kisses them on the nose, then goes to place another to the baby's temple.

The pair's little one shifts and turns to lay draped over Y/N's resting form, creating a happy family stack before it drifts and sleeps.

Sebastian goes to make yet another bit of commentary before he stops, seeing his spouse and his toddler already out for the night.

Looking happy yet again and softening, he opts instead to pull the covers up and close his eyes as well.

The collective peace has been a rare one lately, but nobody really seems to mind when the trouble is so cute at the end of the day.