#incorrect long walk quotes

[wishiwasadruid]

Leon: So what happened while I was away?

Gwaine: Merlin and Arthur are Courting and they killed a person.

Leon: I WAS GONE ONE WEEK?!?!

[padawansuggest]

Cody: *physicallf carrying Obi-Wan out of the war room* Come on, General, it’s go-the-fuck-to-sleep time.

Obi-Wan: Ahh. Go-the-fuck-to-sleep time. I know it well. It’s the most sacred three times of the week.

Cody: *stops dead in a corridor* …please tell me that was a joke?

Obi-Wan: I would never joke about go-the-fuck-to-sleep time. It was Master’s favorite time the first few years we were together.

Cody: *closes eyes and counts to five* We’re going to talk about all that later. *keeps heading off to Obi-Wan’s quarters, with more purpose this time*

[cipher-zoo]

Kalifa: Anyway, all I wanted to say is that Spandam decided to throw a hissy fit and we need to come to his office.

Jabra: got it

Kalifa: By the way this is sexual harassment

Jabra: *covering himself with the shower curtain* YOU WALKED IN ON ME!

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

Sollux: bro doe2n’t even have a certaiin je ne 2aii2 quoii

Aradia: je se his qu0i, and i d0n’t like it.

[i-like-books-and-women]

Okay so my newest brain worm is kinda based around how after Zach comes out to Jon and Angel and they're like "omg bro thank you for telling us we love you" pretty much instantly Angel looks back between Zach and Ruben once or twice and is like "Shut the fuck up you're dating" and they're like "I mean like we haven't really talked about that but like-" and Angel essentially goes "Ooh friends with benefits? Based." And I kinda forgot how perceptive he is at times so I think it'd be really funny if he just straight up missed a lot of subtext but can clock any romantic/sexual developments/activities in any of them pretty much instantly. If Jon started dating someone he knew the next time he saw him without being told. He knew Zach and Ruben were gonna get engaged before it had even happened and sent them a congratulations text like the day after despite not being told, not seeing them in person for a hot second, and the fact that they didn't live together anymore.

[clumsyartish]

Remus: It’s dark in here James: Don’t worry dude I got this James: *Stomps his feet* James: *Skechers light up*

[stuff-the-chosen-didnt-say]

[During the storm] 

Judas: I’m swimming back to shore! I know my chances are slim, but I have to try! 

Philip: Judas, you can’t swim! 

Judas: I said my chances are slim!

[leona-hawthorne]

FICMAS #1— KISS IT BETTER / theodore nott

december 1st

theodore nott x fem reader

summary: he doesn’t mind using extreme measures to get you to put your lips on his.

warnings: fluff, kissing, mentions of blood

word count: 2.6k

a/n: this was inspired by one of those incorrect quote generators lmao

navigation ficmas masterlist

Theo never quite knew what to do with the attention you gave him.

There you were, sitting across from him in the library, your hair falling forward as you scribbled down notes, lost in thought. He should’ve been focused on his own work, on the potions essay that was due tomorrow, but he couldn’t help himself. His gaze kept drifting back to you. Every time your quill scratched the parchment or your lips pressed together in concentration, his chest tightened. You had a way of drawing him in, pulling him closer with every small, unconscious movement.

It wasn’t like he’d never noticed you before. You had always been part of the group, hovering on the edges of conversations, offering sharp comments when the boys got too ridiculous, but you never quite entered Theo’s orbit like this. Now, though? Now, he was starting to realize that he’d been wrong to overlook you. You were too… soft. Too gentle in a world that had taught him to be hard, distant. It made him feel things he wasn’t used to feeling.

Then it happened—something so small, so insignificant that it shouldn’t have left a mark on him, but it did.

A paper cut.

He didn’t even flinch as the thin slice formed on his finger while rifling through his notes. Theo muttered a low curse under his breath, instinctively moving to press his thumb against it, but before he could do anything, you noticed.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice warm, as though you had known him for ages. 

Theo blinked, unsure why you were even asking. “Just a paper cut.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you set your quill down and leaned forward. “Want me to kiss it and make it feel better?”

For a split second, he thought you were joking. He stared at you, unsure how to respond. That wasn’t the kind of offer people made to him. Kisses didn’t fix anything—not the way his childhood had been, not the way life worked now. But the way you looked at him, playful yet sincere, made something stir in his chest.

“That works?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

 You laughed lightly, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Sure it does. My mom used to do it for me when I was little. Worked like a charm.”

The mention of your mom caught him off guard. His own memories of his mother were hazy, distant, like an old photograph left out in the sun for too long. He couldn’t remember if she had ever kissed his cuts, couldn’t remember if anyone had ever cared for him like that. Affection had always been scarce in the Nott household. His mother had been gone for a long time, and the little acts of tenderness you described had died with her.

You stood and walked around the table. He didn’t know why he didn’t stop you, didn’t say something sarcastic or brush it off. 

“It’s no big deal,” he muttered, trying to pull his hand away, but you held it gently, your fingers warm against his.

“Let me see,” you said softly, and he couldn’t find it in himself to argue. He held his breath as you leaned down, your lips brushing over his finger in the softest kiss. The contact was fleeting, a whisper of warmth, but it sent his mind reeling. He didn’t understand why something so simple, so childlike, could make him feel… different.

“There,” you said, your voice light as you pulled back. “All better.”

He could only stare at you, his throat suddenly tight. “Yeah… thanks.”

You smiled, returning to your seat like nothing had happened, like you hadn’t just unknowingly changed something in him. Theo’s gaze lingered on you, the phantom of your lips still tingling on his skin. He didn’t know how to process it. No one had ever looked at him that way, treated him that way. 

But he knew one thing for sure—he wanted to feel that again.

The next day, Theo’s mind was still replaying that moment, over and over. It had awakened something inside him, something that ached for more, and before he knew it, he found himself searching for a way to feel it again. This time, though, he didn’t want a kiss on the hand. He wanted more.

Theo found Draco leaning against one of the stone walls outside. He approached him with a strange sort of determination, one that was equal parts reckless and desperate. Draco raised an eyebrow when he saw Theo approaching.

“Need something, Nott?” Draco drawled, clearly amused by the look on Theo’s face.

Theo didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Punch me,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Draco blinked, clearly taken aback. “What?”

“I need you to punch me,” Theo repeated, his voice steady despite the absurdity of the request.

“Alright, gladly, but why?”

Theo swallowed, his throat dry. He knew it was ridiculous, that this whole plan was absurd, but he needed this to happen. He needed you to kiss him again, to care again. "Just... trust me. I need a bruise, a cut, something that’ll make her—” He cut himself off, his face heating up.

Draco’s smirk only widened, a glint of realization flashing in his eyes. “Ah. Her.” He stood up straighter, clearly intrigued. “So, you’re finally doing something about it. You want me to punch you so she’ll fuss over you. Clever.”

“Just do it, will you?” Theo muttered, trying to ignore the heat creeping up his neck.

Draco shrugged, but there was a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “If you insist.” Without further warning, Draco’s fist came flying toward Theo’s face. He didn’t hold back either—Theo barely had time to register the motion before pain exploded in his mouth. 

He stumbled backward, his hand flying to his lip. Blood welled up immediately, the sharp sting spreading across his jaw.

“Merlin’s beard,” Theo muttered, his vision momentarily swimming. “I said punch me, not break my damn face.”

Draco stepped back, grinning like he had just done Theo the biggest favor in the world. “There. You’re welcome.”

Theo wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, already thinking about what would come next. He didn’t care about the pain. He didn’t care about anything except the idea of you seeing him like this—hurt, vulnerable—and caring for him again.

He found you in the common room later that day, sitting in your usual spot near the fireplace. You didn’t see him at first—too absorbed in the book you were reading, a small frown of concentration on your face. 

Theo hesitated for a second, suddenly feeling nervous. What if this was a mistake? What if you didn’t react the way he hoped?

But then you looked up, and your eyes immediately widened in shock as you took in the sight of him—blood smeared on his lip, a fresh bruise forming on his jaw.

“Theo!” you gasped, your book forgotten as you rushed over to him. “What happened? Are you okay?”

He tried to shrug it off, leaning casually against the arm of the couch, though the pain in his mouth made it hard to play it cool. “Got into a fight. No big deal.”

You didn’t look convinced. Your fingers hovered near his face, concern etched into your features. “Does it hurt?”

Theo could feel his heart pounding, his mouth dry as the moment he’d been waiting for arrived. His voice was lower than he intended as he muttered, “A little… are you… are you not gonna kiss it better?”

Your expression softened, that same playful smile from the day before returning. “Again, huh?” 

You leaned in, your eyes flicking to his lips, and Theo’s pulse quickened. When your lips brushed his, it was soft, cautious, but this time there was something more to it—something that made the ache in his lip completely disappear.

And just like that, Theo knew he was done for.

Your lips lingered for a moment longer than necessary, and it was enough to set Theo’s blood humming. The softness of your touch felt like a balm, not just for the bruise but for something deeper—something buried in the recesses of his mind that he didn’t want to examine too closely.

When you pulled back, your gaze met his, a flicker of something unreadable crossing your face. Concern? Amusement? Theo couldn’t tell. But what he did know was that he didn’t want that moment to end. Not yet.

"You really need to stop getting into fights," you murmured, shaking your head with a small, exasperated smile. "What were you even thinking?"

Theo almost laughed at the irony. He couldn’t very well tell you the truth—that the whole thing had been orchestrated just for this. Just for the briefest chance to feel your lips on his. 

Instead, he shrugged, playing it off. "You know how it is. Slytherins and Gryffindors don’t mix well."

You rolled your eyes, but there was a softness behind it, something that made Theo’s chest tighten in that unfamiliar way again. “One of these days, you’re going to get yourself hurt for real, and then I won’t be able to kiss it better.”

That sent a jolt of warmth through him, stronger than the pain in his lip. He let the silence stretch between you for a moment, watching as you shifted nervously under his gaze.

"Maybe," he said slowly, his voice low, "I just like the way you kiss me."

Your eyes widened slightly at that, a faint blush creeping across your cheeks. Theo smirked inwardly, relishing the way his words seemed to fluster you. You always had a quick response for everything, but now you were quiet, your lips parting as though you weren’t sure what to say.

“I—” you started, your voice trailing off as you looked down at your hands.

Theo’s heart pounded in his chest. He wanted to reach out, to grab your wrist and pull you back in, to kiss you again but for real this time—not as some excuse to soothe a bruise or a cut.

Before you could speak, a voice cut through the tension like a knife.

“Well, look at you two,” Draco drawled as he strolled into the common room, clearly interrupting something he knew full well was important. “What did I say, Nott? You’re welcome, by the way.”

Theo shot Draco a glare, a deep scowl crossing his face. Of course he had to show up now, just when things were starting to move in the direction he wanted.

You, however, looked between them, confusion evident on your face. “What’s he talking about?”

Before Theo could respond, Draco answered for him, leaning casually against the wall with that insufferable grin. “Oh, nothing. Just that Nott here got himself punched on purpose. Quite the romantic, isn’t he?”

Theo’s heart dropped. He glared at Draco, fury bubbling up in his chest. “Shut it, Malfoy.”

But it was too late. You were already staring at Theo, your eyes wide with disbelief. “Wait… what?”

Theo tried to backtrack, scrambling for some sort of excuse, but he wasn’t fast enough. You took a step back, your brows furrowed in confusion as realization slowly dawned on you.

"You… you let someone punch you just so I’d…?"

The color drained from Theo’s face as he saw the pieces falling into place in your mind.

“I—” he began, his voice unsteady, “It’s not like that.”

You crossed your arms, staring at him like you were trying to decide whether to be angry, amused, or something in between. “Theo, what the hell were you thinking?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. I just… I wanted—” He cut himself off again, feeling ridiculous. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

But you were still looking at him, waiting for an answer, and the weight of your gaze was too much to bear.

“I wanted you to kiss me,” Theo muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your expression softened, the confusion giving way to something else—something gentler. You uncrossed your arms and took a step closer, your eyes searching his face.

"You could’ve just asked," you said softly, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

Theo blinked, thrown off by your reaction. He had expected you to be angry, maybe even laugh and walk away. But there you were, looking at him with something that felt dangerously close to fondness.

“You… wouldn’t have laughed at me?” he asked, his voice rough with uncertainty.

You shook your head, your smile growing. “No, Theo. I wouldn’t have laughed.”

Theo didn’t know what to say to that. For a long moment, he just stood there, staring at you, the words dying in his throat. He felt foolish, standing in front of you like this, bruised and vulnerable, all because he didn’t know how to ask for something he wanted so badly.

But then you reached out, your hand gently brushing against his bruised lip again, and all the embarrassment, all the uncertainty melted away.

“If you wanted me to kiss you,” you murmured, stepping even closer, “all you had to do was say so.”

When your lips finally met his, it wasn’t like before. This wasn’t a kiss to make anything better. This was a kiss because you both wanted it.

Theo’s hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. You responded instantly, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pressed yourself against him, and Theo felt like he was drowning, lost in the feel of you, in the way you kissed him like you’d been waiting for this as long as he had.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together. “Yeah, I still don’t regret anything,” he muttered.

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips again. “Next time, just ask, Theo. No more getting hurt.”

Theo nodded, his heart still racing as he held you close, a grin tugging at his lips. “Deal.”

​​ficmas taglist: @winnie1emon @ur-local-wizard @satosugu4-ever @ankoluvs @superstargirll @slytherin-princess-x @abeoavita @mattheoriddle101 @georgiastars13 @smoooore @mattheoriddles-sluttt @2dloveshp @mattysprincess @catching-fire-in-the-wind

(comment or dm to be added to the taglist)

[ryemiffie]

Bat bros incorrect quotes based on my buddy's hate for the abbreviation of super to supes cause he gets confused and thinks people are saying soup:

Jason: Hey, Bruce wanted me to let you know we'll be hanging out with the supes later so make sure you're ready to go.

Dick: The soups?

Jason: Yeah, the supes.

Dick: we're going to hang out with the soups?

Jason: Yeah?? Just make sure you're dressed or Bruce is gonna throw a fit.

Dick: ??

Dick: What should I dress for? i mean, what kinds of soups will we be hanging out with?

Jason: ??

Jason: I don't know?? The original ones??

Dick: The original soups?

Jason: Yes?? The original supes, I guess that's what you could call them.

Dick: Okay. Should I bring a spoon or something?

Jason: A spoon?? For what?

Dick: For the soups!

Jason: Why would they need a-

Jason:

Dick: ??

Jason: Really bro?! You've been Bruce Wayne's son for way too long.

Dick: What do you mean??

Jason, walking away: Privileged ass.

Dick: What did I say??!

[oul2001]

Leon is that boss who has extreme expectations from everyone around him and has no time for errors, but has even more ridiculously extreme expectations from himself. So despite having only 5.5 hours to sleep after riding trough the woods all day, not a single armored guy dares to complain because they know that he had only three, having checked on the (k)night shift and the prince before going to bed.

It doesn't mean they won't groan to each other or die from the inside every time he says: "so far the warm up, now let's start" because what the poetry, sire, we just died, if your immortal head can warp itself around the concept.

But you just can't righteously hate him. Because you know that he really IS a good person. he doesn't mean to torture his beloved, frustrating knights in the training field. He just truly does believe that he is being reasonable about his demands of his men about 90% of the time.

And when they don't it's fine, maybe, probably, because they are only human ect and can "wear themselves down" or watevr and Arthur really did tell him to be less "harsh" and stuff and there were only two regicide attempts last week so.

But god forbid if they don't take things as seriously as he does, because than things are going DOWN.

Leon: guys, shhh. Do you know what that sound is?

The knights: what is it?

Leon: that was the sound of my patience shattering into a billion pieces.

[eringobragh420]

🖤 Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader 🖤 Summary: Damian and his girlfriend disturb the peace. 🛑 Warnings: NSFW. Fingering, oral (m and f receiving), dirty talk, rough, unprotected p in v, mild pain play, cum. 18+ 🖤 Notes: Spanish translations are at the end of the story. I do not speak Spanish, so if anything is incorrect, please let me know and I’ll fix it! 🖤 Taglist: @eddiesrockstargirlfriend, @terrortwinunicorn. If you’d like to be added, please click here! 🖤 Requested By: @danithepenguin05-blog. Hope you enjoy! 🖤 MASTERLIST

“You know, I’ve been watching you all night …” She jumps at the voice coming from behind her, smiling when she can feel his warm breath ghost across her neck and bare shoulder. “And I think I’m gonna fuck you in that dress.”

Her grin widens, brow arching. “You might wanna be careful,” she advises, “my boyfriend is a big dude, and he gets really jealous.” She turns around, eyes climbing to meet the pair gazing down at her.

“Is he bigger than me?” Damian growls, puffing his chest out as much as he can in the confines of a button-down shirt, vest, and suit jacket, somehow making himself seem even taller than his normal six-five. 

“Oh, damn,” she purrs, closing the space between them. “You’re way bigger. Let’s get out of here.”

“And fuck you in that dress?” Damian repeats, eyes sliding down the garment in question—a deep purple ruched midi-dress with one sleeve and an asymmetrical hem that hugs every one of her curves, even ones she didn’t know she had but was excited to find just the same. His hands claim her hips, sliding back to her ass, possessive in his Priestly way, and she beams up at him. Her hands glide up his chest, straightening the tie she’d had to tie for him before clutching at the lapels. She inhales his cologne and body wash and the scent that is simply Damian, and her heart flutters, pussy dampening at the same time. The control he has over her should be studied by science.

“And fuck me in this dress,” she whispers, pulling him into a kiss that starts as a peck, but when she tries to pull away, his long arms wrap themselves around her. She giggles against his lips, her own arms snaking round his neck only when he bends his knees and comes closer to her height.

“We better get going,” Damian mumbles. He leans sideways and glances down at her silver heels—the ones that have diamond-encrusted bows on the toes, the excess of which provocatively climb her calves. “Because I think I wanna fuck you in those heels, too, and I know you’re not gonna last much longer before you whip out the chanclas.”

She throws her head back with a laugh. “Well in that case … Priest, you big stud. Take me to bed or lose me forever.” She’s given universal consent with a quote from their favorite movie to watch together, and the change in her boyfriend’s demeanor is palpable.

Damian releases her only to drop his arm around her shoulders, and she reaches up to interlace their fingers. She’s smiling up at him, adoring, as she usually does, when she notices the Three Stooges headed their way, all of them leaning on each other, none of them able to walk in a straight line. They stumble over JD, who is passed out with his head on a plate of salad. Damian glances down at her, shaking his head, and she takes the hint, averting her gaze in the opposite direction. Together, they pick up their pace.

“Guys, wait!” Dom hollers behind them.

“Nope,” Damian grumbles so only she can hear, and they continue on.

“Don’t leave us hangin’!” Finn slurs.

The couple continues on, waving goodbyes to friends in passing, blissfully, though not really, ignorant to the whining that seems to be following them.

“Besties,” Rhea cajoles, then exclaims, “oh, shit!” just before a stomp, a thud, and three dummies giggling. Damian and his girlfriend slow to a stop and look at each other.

“There’s like a 70 percent chance they’ll die if we leave them here,” she says.

Damian rolls his eyes, nods, and turns to their friends, waving his arm for them to hurry up. And once they arrive at the rental SUV, Damian stuffs all three of his inebriated friends into the backseat, slamming the door in Dom’s face when he asks if they can stop for chicken tenders on the way to the hotel. Rolling his neck, he straightens his suit before turning to his girlfriend, who’s patiently waiting near the front passenger door. He opens it for her, taking her hand and helping her inside before closing the door and making his way around to the driver’s side.

“No, but seriously,” Dom says, poking his face between the front seats. She glances at him, his cheeks rosy from the alcohol, and then she looks at Damian, catching him taking yet another deep, calming breath through his nose. “I was lookin’ on my phone earlier and there’s this place that’s open late that has tendies …” He begins searching the pockets of his suit. “Hey, hey, who has my phone?”

“Whoops,” Rhea giggles from behind her, and Dom reaches over Finn.

“Give it back!” Dom exclaims.

“Get your arm outta my face!” Finn says, shoving Dom’s arm away.

“Tell her to give me my phone back!”

“Give him his bloody phone back!”

“I know his passcode,” Rhea taunts.

Suddenly Dom’s own shiny black shoes bounce between the front seats as Finn launches him into the trunk area of the SUV.

“Well, open it already! What are you waitin’ for?” Finn shouts, holding Dom back as he both fights to climb over the seat and grab his phone from Rhea at the same time.

“If this is what having kids is like, you can forget it,” Damian remarks, making a left turn out of the parking lot. His girlfriend watches the street- and headlights bounce off his handsome features, smiling when he places his hand on her thigh, lifting her dress just a little.

“I’m not really concerned with that right now,” she quietly replies. The three in the back are still arguing and paying no attention to what’s going on in the front. Damian looks at her, and she lifts her hips, tugging the bottom of the dress up her legs until the very tops of her thighs are visible. His eyes return to the road to be sure he’s still in his lane, snapping back to her as she places her hand atop his, beginning to slowly drag it up her satiny skin.

Damian’s rough fingers make first contact with her bare slit, and he casts another glance in her direction. Her grin is wicked as she licks her lips, rolling her hips against his touch wantonly. His left hand grips the steering wheel, he adjusts the positioning of his own hips, and his middle finger slips within her folds. He massages the tiny nub in slow circles, torturing, before gliding his touch up and down, easily causing her pussy to surge. She sighs, head falling back against the seat, and she bites her lip.

“Shit,” she whispers. She squeezes his solid forearm with both hands as she rides his gifted fingers. Slithering inside her, first with one finger, then two, he hooks them expertly, and her back bows. The raucous from the backseat, the very fact that she and Damian are not alone in such a tiny space, sends her into a shivering, inaudible orgasm quicker than is typical when he uses his fingers on her. She releases his arm, gaping as he brings those cum-coated digits to his perfect lips where he sucks them greedily into his mouth. His cheeks hollow with the suction, sculpting those bones exquisitely, her thighs instantly twitching. He pulls them from his mouth with a lewd pop, winking at the same time, and she knows exactly which direction things are headed once that hotel room door clicks closed behind them.

He opens her door after backing into a parking spot. He rearranges the bulge in his pants as he holds his other hand out for her. She makes a show of raising her hips so she can pull her dress back down to its original length before placing her manicured hand into his, carefully climbing out of the vehicle. Damian closes the door, leaning down to press his lips to her ear.

“I’m gonna fucking wreck you,” he says.

“Promise?” she murmurs, brows raising.

“You guys suck,” Dom complains, tumbling out of the back of the SUV. Finn and Rhea lean on one another, uncontrollable laughter passing back and forth between them. “Now everybody’s gonna think I’m weird.”

“You are weird,” Finn and Rhea snicker in unison.

Damian’s arm rests on her shoulders once more, their fingers again tangled, as the party of five boards the hotel elevator. Dom continues to whine about whatever Rhea and Finn did to him, which evidently has something to do with an embarrassing Twitter post. But their bickering slowly begins to fade into mere background noise, the three of them standing in front of her and she in front of Damian, and she snakes her hands behind her. Her nails clack against her boyfriend’s belt buckle, a sinister grin splitting her lips as they continue southward. She follows the zipper, the mechanism threatening to burst trying to hold back the monster hardening within, which she tenderly cups in both hands. Damian brings an arm around her shoulders and across her chest, the other enveloping her waist, and she rests her head against his pec, massaging his still-growing cock through his pants. His perfect mouth latches onto her ear, biting, kissing, sucking, moving onto her neck, making sure to touch all of her spots. She’s so distracted she doesn’t notice his hand sweeping back across her chest so he can fondle her breast, which further occupies her attention and keeps her from realizing he’s pulling the sleeveless side of her dress down until that bare breast falls out. He takes it into his hand again, groping obscenely, all the while feasting on her neck.

The ding of the elevator breaks the couple’s building tension, and Damian lifts her dress back into position before the doors slide open. They resume their customary holding of one another as they follow their three friends into the hallway, Damian having to redirect them from turning right to turning left. The lump in his slacks is incredibly conspicuous, but he doesn’t try to hide it, and she doesn’t blame him—he has a lot to be proud of. She waits by their room door as he snatches the key card out of Finn’s hand, knowing none of the inebriated three will be able to operate the machine. He herds them inside, not even bothering to take Rhea to her room, and closes the door before they can make any more requests.

She backs slowly into their room as Damian stalks her. He regards her with a tilt of his head, stealthily reaching back to turn the lock on the door after it clicks closed. He casually starts toward her, opening his suit jacket and allowing it to slide down his arms. He catches it in one hand and lays it on a nearby dresser. Her breathing accelerates and she chews on the inside of her cheek as he unbuttons the cuffs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves halfway up his forearms like he’s about to take on a task that’s going to last for hours.

“I love that dress,” he tells her, closing the space between them.

She smiles. “Well thank you.” She runs her hands up his chest, over the vest this time, applying a small amount of pressure just so she can feel how hard his muscles are. “I thought you might like … the easy access.” Her hands come down his abdomen and she takes hold of the buckle on his belt. “And I—” She starts to unbuckle it. “—might like—” She unbuttons and unzips his pants. “—this big cock in my mouth.” 

Ahead of her descending to her knees, he grabs hold of her with his hands under her arms and he tosses her back onto the bed. A giggle nearly erupts, but Damian is leering at her in a way he’s never done before as his fists come down on the mattress, then his knees, and she backs up on her elbows. When she comes to the pillows, she bends a knee, lifts her leg, and Damian pauses his advance. He glances at the heel perched delicately on his against his shoulder, the diamond bows, the diamond ribbons ascending her calf, and when he returns his attention to her, his eyes are devoid of any color except sable and he’s wetting his lips.

“Lick me, Papí,” she says.

Damian chuckles softly, pressing a tender kiss to the inside of her ankle. “¿Qué dices?”

“Please, Papí, will you lick me?”

He seizes her thighs, spreading them, pushing them back toward her until her hips nearly come off the bed and her elbows collapse. She feels the cold from the air conditioner rush over her bare, wet pussy, sending a shudder throughout her body. She lifts her head only to have it fall back into the pillows again after watching Damian lick a hot stripe from her aching hole to the top of her slit. She groans and her back arches as she grabs at his ponytail of tiny braids, to which he responds by closing his lips around her clit and sucking, slurping, effortlessly holding her legs in place as she fights to close them around his head.

“Fuck,” she yelps, releasing his hair to reach back and grip the headboard. Damian releases one leg so he can pull her dress down until her breast spills out, and that heel lands on his back, digging in as much as she dares as she tries desperately to ride his tongue. Damian grunts, coming away from her pussy, and she looks down at him, worried the heel in his back is too painful. He glances behind him in the direction of the heel, and when he looks back, she’s not sure he’s the same person. This man must certainly be the devil—the onyx flames in his eyes and the impish slope to his grin supporting her hypothesis. He surrenders her other leg, and she instantly brings the heel down onto his back, because that’s where a devil would want it. His eyes close briefly, opening just before he attacks her pussy, assaulting every nerve-ending with every trick he knows. She cries out, heels burrowing even further as her body undulates, and gushes cum all over Damian’s gifted tongue.

Without warning, Damian pulls away, standing on the floor now at the foot of the bed, the bottom half of his face glistening with her juices, and he repossesses her legs. Before she has time to pout, he yanks her down the bed, a leg on either side of him. He reaches down and wraps his hand around her throat, pulling her into a sitting position, her hands immediately rummaging through his pants and briefs, reemerging with Damian’s cock and balls. She makes a show of spitting into the palm of her hand before sliding it down his rigid shaft. He leans down to kiss her, pulling back just as she attempts to accept the kiss. She glares, trying again to kiss him, only to be met with the same results.

“Papí,” she sulks.

“I want you to choke on this dick first,” he tells her, hand still clutching her throat, lifting to the point she’s nearly coming off the bed. She sighs, glowing, hand decelerating on his cock. “You know I like kissing you when your mouth’s a mess.”

She nods, waiting obediently for him to release her neck, and as soon as he does, she has his cock buried almost to the root in her throat before she gags, coughs, and has to come up for air.

“Fuck!” Damian shouts, one hand on the back of her head, the other on the side near her neck, as he thrusts into her mouth. She grasps the ends of his belt, simply using them for stability as Damian rides her face. After several pumps, he pulls out, strings of saliva and precum bridging her lips and his cock. Now he allows her to kiss him, groaning as their tongues twist and curl, and she knows he can taste his cock all over her mouth, just like he likes it.

He picks her up under the arms again and launches her just a few feet back on the bed. Snickering as she bounces, she watches as Damian sheds all of his clothes from the waist up before crawling on his knees to get between her legs. He takes one of her heels and arranges it on his chest. Rubbing the velvety head of his cock along her throbbing clit, she feels him press into the heel, so she adds resistance with her leg so it might go deeper.

“Goddamn,” he roars. He starts to push himself inside her, and she revels in the sensation of being split open as she gives a moan of her own.

“Mmm, Papí likes a little pain,” she coos. She gives him a shove with the heel, and he snarls, glaring down at her with a tilt of his head, and maybe she went too far, but they’re past the point of no return. “That’s hot.”

Damian’s hips surge forward, impaling her completely on his rock hard member, nearly bouncing her head off the headboard if not for the pillows. She cries out, gripping the wood that is fastened to the wall, making it safe from rattling. However, the mattress has a squeak, which sounds in time with Damian’s rapid thrusts. He wraps his fingers around her ankle, anchoring it to his chest, other hand groping her bare breast, and he has a steady, albeit aggressive, rhythm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chants with each and every pump, unknowingly increasing the force in her leg. “Fuck me, Papí!” she cries out, finishing with a whisper, “please … please …”

Damian cries out his own set of curses, and with one final surge forward, he releases inside her. His pace slows, but doesn’t stop for several moments. A smile grows on her bruised lips, and even though she’s positive her makeup and hair are both incredible messes right now, she doesn’t feel shame or embarrassment. Her boyfriend doesn’t need to see her painted and polished to perfection every moment of their lives. And anyway, he’d warned her of his intentions to wreck her. Eventually he pulls out, lying next to her, and moments later, the couple is snoring together—she still in her dress and heels, he still in his pants and shoes.

The next morning, following a refreshing joint shower, they collect their belongings—Damian handling the heavier items, always leaving with her as little as possible to carry—and as she’s holding the door for him, Dom, Finn, and Rhea exit their room, Rhea having retrieved her things from her room earlier. The threesome are already wearing sunglasses and share a similar pale complexion, but when they spot her and Damian, they collapse into giggles.

Brows furrowing, she asks, “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothin’,” Finn replies.

She glances at Damian, who shrugs and rolls his eyes. They all head to the elevator, the three amigos murmuring amongst one another, and she has no idea what’s going on, but she knows it has something to do with her and Damian. Everyone stuffs themselves and their luggage into the tiny box, Rhea punches the button for the lobby, and the doors close. This is the moment the three of them launch into a litany of moaning and groaning and one of them even imitates the sound of a squeaking bed.

“Fuck me, Papí,” Dom’s voice is many octaves higher than normal.

“Papí likes a little pain,” Rhea joins in.

Finn repeats almost verbatim Damian’s list of curses after he came, and for some reason, she doesn’t understand what they’re talking about until this point. She feels her cheeks erupt as if coated in lava, and she’s shell shocked a moment before turning to Damian, who already has his hoodie unzipped and one side of it opened. Mortified, she buries her burning face against his chest and he covers her with the jacket. The rest of the elevator ride is filled with snickers and imitations.

Once outside, she pushes ahead of the group, hurrying toward the rental when she hears the distinct sound of hands clapping. Turning, she catches Damian grinning like he just won the fucking lottery, sharing handshakes with the boys and a high-five with Rhea.

“Really?!”

🎀 Chanclas - Flip flops 🎀 Papí - Daddy 🎀 Qué dices - What do you say?

[moonlit-midnight]

TWST incorrect quotes

Lilia: Kids, can you help me bake this cake?

Yuu: Yeah, sure

Malleus: But let us take a short walk first

*Five hours later*

Lilia: I thought you and Malleus were going for a short walk? What kind of walk takes five hours?

Yuu: A long one?

Lilia, laughing: Just admit it, you didn’t want to taste my cooking, did you?

Lilia, shoving a plate in Malleus and Yuu’s hands: Too bad my little ones, I reserved the last piece for you both, and you’re going to eat it

[skylarsblue]

I still have more. More Incorrect Quotes.

(Accidentally had a lot more fem!Y/N than intended but it's overall GN!) Alex: What made you think you’d be good for the military? Y/N: I worked at a Waffle House in America. Alex: Ah, alright, that makes sense.

-- (Interrogating Valeria)

Y/N: Look, Gaz, you know me. I can't- I can't do it. Gaz: Why not? Why can't you interrogate her? Y/N: Because I'm a bisexual with mommy issues, Gaz. And she's as pretty as she is scary. I'm already not that intimidating, she'll laugh at me when I start stuttering and then I'll just be horny. It can't be me. Gaz: ....okay, I'll ask Alejandro-

-- Y/N: I just realized something...I had a bad childhood. Gaz: Yeah we know. Y/N: What do you mean you know? Soap: Look at how you stand! People who had good childhoods don't stand like that. Y/N: How do I stand?! Gaz: Like Ghost. Ghost: ...I don't appreciate the call out but fair-

-- Price: Where are you going?! Y/N: To either get ice cream or commit a felony, I'll decide in the car!

-- Ghost after watching Fem!Y/N do an incredibly risky move: I just...Is she blind?? Suffering some form of brain damage?

-- (Tw; Hollywood Undead unalive song)

Y/N: My legs are dangling off the edge, the bottom of the bottle is my only friend, I think I'll sli- Price: EXCUSE ME?! WHAT ARE YOU ON ABOUT?? Y/N: Wh- No Captain, it's just a so- Price: GHOST GET THE BASE PSYCH ON THE PHONE Y/N: CAPTAIN IT'S A SONG I'M FINE- Well I'm not bUT NO WAIT HANG ON-

-- Valeria: *screaming in spanish* Y/N: ... Gaz: Don't. Y/N, blushing: I'm trying-

-- (During movie night; watching Venom)

Y/N: *pauses on that scene where Venoms sticks his tongue out at the guy in the street* ....Hear me out- Gaz: NO! NO. Y/N: NO NO LISTEN, LISTEN- Soap: Let them speak. Gaz: Don't encourage this! Y/N, pointing at the screen: LOOK AT IT! LOOK! Objectively you have to understand- Gaz: NOOO, it eats people! Soap: THAT TONGUE IS THREE FEET LONG AT LEAST! Gaz: No, I will not be hearing anyone out! I- GHOST, Ghost, back me up. Tell them they shouldn't want to fuck the ALIEN. Ghost, looking at the screen: Ethically, it's wrong. Gaz: Thank you. Ghost: ...objectively- Y/N: AHA! SEE?!

-- Ghost: *bends over* Y/N: *silently flips out* Soap, quietly: Wh-what? What are you-?! Y/N: SHHH *grabs Soap's jaw and turns him to look* Soap: *slack jaw* Damn- Y/N: fuckingdamnindeed- Ghost: *turns around* Soap: So it's your turn to pick dinner, what're you thinking? Y/N: Oh I dunno, maybe something pork related, uh, or cake- Soap: Aha, yeah...cake. Ghost: ....??

--

Fem!Y/N: I am not the mom of 141, that's ridiculous. Someone: You make all of them lunch every day with fruit cut into shapes, IN PERSONALIZED LUNCH BOXES Fem!Y/N: They need nutrition! Someone: You color code their items- Fem!Y/N: Look, if you were there for the item mix-ups you'd understand. Someone: YOU ARE LITERALLY FOLDING AND LABELLING THEIR LAUNDRY WITH A SHARPIE ON THE TAGS. Fem!Y/N: *holding Simon's skull boxers, writing his name on the tag* That- ...oh my god I'm the mom.

-- Ghost, watching Soap run past: WHAT DO YOU HAVE?! Soap, grinning & sprinting: A FUCKIN' BOMB Ghost: NO!!!

-- Price: Y/N, this is Lieutenant Riley, you can call him Ghost. Ghost: Y/N, looking him up and down: ...you got daddy issues? Ghost: ....maybe Y/N: Cool, same. Pleasure to meet'cha, sorry life gave you shit. Ghost, shaking their hand: Ditto. Price: *concerned sigh*

-- Price, walking into the common area at 10 pm: What in the world- Gaz, Soap, and Y/N: *all in there pyjamas with face masks on, eating snacks* Y/N: *slowly keeps chewing* Gaz: ...heeeyy siiirr... Price: It was lights out an hour ago, what are you lot doing? Soap: *slowly raises another face mask* ....Self care, sir? Price: ... Ghost, walking in at midnight for water: ....what. Soap, Gaz, Price, and Y/N: *stop gossiping* Gaz: ....hey. Soap: Evenin' L.T. Y/N: Howdy. Ghost: *looks at Price with a face mask on* Ghost: ...*sighs and sits down* Pass the Goldfish. Soap: Yeaaaah, good man! Welcome to the party!

-- Shepard: Is anyone here straight?! Price: ...*hesitantly raises hand* Laswell: *pushes his hand back down*

-- Valeria: *angry ranting* Y/N, a captive: Stop being so mean to me or I swear to god I'm gonna fall in love with you!

-- Ghost: What in the hell are you doing? Y/N: Laying in the rain. Ghost: Why? Y/N: If I lay here long enough, it feels like it washes the sad away. So I'm gonna lay here until the sad is gone. Ghost: You'll get sick. Y/N: Better sick than sad, sir. Ghost: ...*looks at the sky, back down, sighs* Ghost: *lays down on the tarmac* Y/N: Got a lot of sad? Ghost: ...Yeah. Y/N: If the rain doesn't take care of it, let's trade sads. Then it'll at least be a different kind of sad. Ghost: Not sure you want my sad. Y/N: Maybe not, but I don't think you should have to handle your sad alone either. Ghost: ...alright. Y/N: Cool.

-- Price: Simon, it's three o' clock in the morning. Why on earth are you making chocolate pudding? Ghost: Because I've lost control of my life.

-- Soap, with a gunshot wound: Do I regret it? Yes. Will I do it again? Most likely.

-- Y/N after doing something so badass it would fit in a movie: ...DID EVERYONE SEE THAT?? CAUSE I WILL NOT BE DOING IT AGAIN.

-- Ghost: You kidnapped the prime minister's daughter? That's illegal! Soap: Okay, Ghost, but what's more illegal? Briefly inconveniencing the prime minister's daughter, or destroying 141? Ghost: KIDNAPPING THE PRIME MINISTER'S DAUGHTER, JOHNNY! Fem!Y/N: Do you guys have like, a water or something? Snack maybe? No?

-- Y/N: I think there's been some confusion. I'm not the one in trouble here. Enemy Soldier: ...What? Y/N: There are only four of you. You'll need more than that. Gaz, hearing it over the intercom: ...they're gonna whoop-ass but we should probably go help them.

-- Someone: Why are you doing their straps for them? Price: They don't like velcro. Someone: Just do it yourself! Y/N: I'm not touching that stuff! I'll get neurotypical cooties.

-- Y/N, high on painkillers: If yo leg get cut off, would it hurt? Soap, in a hospital bed beside them: ...DUH Y/N: How though? Soap: Cause your leg got cut off! Y/N: Where you gonna feel the pain? Soap: In your le.... Y/N: Exactly bro! How you gonna feel the pain in yo leg if- Both: If your leg is gone! Soap: Whoooaaa... Y/N: Bro I swear, we're geniuses. Ghost, on his last brain cell: Fuckin'ell.

-- Ghost, about to lose his shit: Dear lord, I know we haven't spoken in a long time but if you could give me a little patience-

-- Gaz: Do you believe in God? Y/N: ...Yes & no. Gaz: Yes & No? What do you mean? Y/N: I believe there is a higher power, I believe a God exists. But...believing in God? Now that...haven't done that in a long time.

--

Gaz & Y/N: *dancing* Ghost: Can you two be serious for five seconds? Gaz, bustin' a move: Dunno sir, can you have fun for five seconds? Y/N: *stops and looks at Gaz* Gaz: *stops and is filled with instant regret* ...uh, sir, I- Ghost: Tell you what. I'll give you five seconds...to start running- Gaz: *turns to run and sees Y/N already yards away* YOU LEFT ME?! Y/N: I WANNA LIVE!!!!

-- Ghost: What are they doing? Price: Arguing in morse code. Soap: - .... .- - .----. ... / .-- .... -.-- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / ... .... --- . ... / .-. .- --. --. . -.. -.-- Gaz: -.-- .- / -- --- -- -- .- Soap: YOU FUCKIN' TAKE THAT BACK-

-- Soap: Keep your eyes closed, I have a surpriiisee!~ Ghost: You did your paperwork? Soap: I said surprise, not miracle.

-- Y/N, on tiktok: FOR ALL YOU NASTY ASSES IN MY DMS- *shows the team* THIS IS MY TEAM. STOP SENDING MY DICK PICS OR I WILL SEND THEM AFTER Y'ALL. Ghost: You've been getting dick pics? Soap: Who the hell's been harassing you online?! Y/N: SEE?? THEY'LL WHOOP YA ASS, SO LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!

-- Y/N, on tiktok again: Alright, backfired on me. For all of y'all who are now trying to be nasty by THIRSTING for my teammates, uh, no. Stop askin' for my Captain's marital status, I'm not gonna tell you. No you may not get my teammate's dicks, I will not be giving you their social media, stOP ASKING I KNOW THEY'RE HOT BUT NO-

-- (I've fallen down the rabbit hole of Karen compilations, so, that's why I thought of this)

Y/N: Goodbye sir! Male Karen: Fuck you bitch! Go suck off your captain you fuckin' whore!! Y/N: Sure, I'll do that, goodbye! Male Karen: Suck my dick, whore! Y/N: Can't! It's too full of military dick, you'll need to make an appointment, GOODBYE!! Soap: *wheeze* Gaz: Jesus. Christ. Ghost: I told you all America is shit.

(Bonus Note cause I can't put in anywhere else; on the topic of Venom + C.o.D. I know we have Soap in place of Eddie & Ghost in place of Venom, but hear me out. Y/N! being Ghost's host and Johnny being a third part. P o l y ! A u !)

[blackbirdi]

Batfamily Incorrect Quotes #1

~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason: *Blatantly falls*

Dick: Did you just fall?

Jason: No! I … attacked the floor.

Dick: Backwards?

Jason: I’m fuckin’ talented, okay!?

———————————

*Meeting Steph for the first time*

Bruce: Hold on, I don’t believe I caught your name.

Steph: I didn’t throw it.

Bruce:

———————————

Jason: Duke’s crying. What do I do?

Dick: Comfort him.

Jason: How?

Dick: Start with a hug.

Jason: … A - a what?

Dick: You need love.

———————————

Steph: You’re bleeding out a lot and Alfred says you need a blood transfusion. What’s your blood type?

Tim: *Wheezing* B … positive …

Steph: *Panicking* I-I’m trying, but you’re bleeding a lot!

Tim: *Stops wheezing and looks up at her in confusion* What?

———————————

Steph: Four months…

The rest of the Batfam: *Turning to Cass* What’s she talking about?

Cass: *Giggling slightly* Oh, it’s nothing.

Steph: THAT’S HOW FUCKING LONG YOU ALL STOOD THERE. WATCHING ME. WATER A FUCKING PLASTIC PLANT!

Cass: *Cackles*

———————————

Jason: What happens to nitrogen when the sun rises?

Steph: It becomes *finger guns* daytrogen.

Jason: *Groans* I’m going home.

Duke: Good nitrogen.

Dick: Sleep tightrogen.

Tim: Don’t let the bedbugs bitrogen.

Jason: *Angry screaming as he walks away*

———————————

Bruce: Damn; the power went out again.

Young!Dick: Don’t worry, I got this. *Shakes* See? *Glows*

Bruce, concerned DadTM: WHAT!?

Young!Dick: *Proud* I swallowed a glowstick!

Bruce: *Stressed the fuck out* WHY WOULD YOU SWALLOW A GLOWSTICK!?

———————————

Literally anyone in the Batfam: How much sleep did you get last night?

Tim: I got a solid eight minutes. Not consecutively. But you’re not even that blurry.

———————————

Damian: How do I tell Drake I want to hit him with a chair?

Jason: Don’t tell him, just do it.

———————————

Dick: How would it feel to have a knife shoved up your ass?

Jason: Keep asking dumbass questions like that and you’ll have an answer.

Dick: *Backs away slowly*

———————————

Dick: Okay, everyone, let’s hug it out now!

Everyone else: *Grumbling as they group hug*

Bruce: Okay, who took my wallet?

Steph: *Whispering as she pockets it* Sorry.

[confused-wanderer]

Incorrect batfam quotes as things I’ve heard as a college student that definitely fit them:

—

Dick: Stop copying me!

Jason: StOp CoPyInG mE!

Dick: Oh my god you’re so annoying

Jason: oh my god you’re so annoying

Dick: I love you

Jason:

Dick: Say it bro

Jason: *booking it to the door*

Dick : SAY IT BACK MOTHERFUCK-

—

Barbara: .. wait I’m lost now

Stephanie: Girl I’ve been lost a long time ago

—

*while the batboys are doing laundry*

Dick: .. hey Jason?

Jason: yeah?

Dick: I put money and my clothes in the washing machine but it won’t start. Could you try?

Jason *stares at it and gently pries the door open before slamming it shut with such force that it swings open again*

Dick: DONT BREAK IT I PAID FOR THIS MAN

Jason: Hold on lemme try some- *swings harder*

Tim: WHAT ARE YOU DOING IDIOT ??

Washer *beeps and starts washing*

—

Duke: ah.. such a peaceful day and gorgeous vie-

*hears screaming in the distance*

Duke: Aaand we’re walking-

—

Tim: I’m sorry but could you tell me how to spell your name? I’m trying to save your contact.

Damian: It doesn’t matter.

Tim: Of course it does! I just want to make sure I spell it right.

Damian: No, seriously. It doesn’t matter how you spell it. That’s not even my real name.

—

Jason and Damian having breakfast in silence at a restaurant

Damian: so I have a knife in my room.

—

Bruce: And there’s this girl in the bathroom who’s been crying there for hours! And I don’t even know who it is, I can just see her shoes

Selina : Wait let’s check it out

Bruce: .. isn’t that an invasion of her privacy?

Selina: you’re no fun… I wonder what’s going on

Bruce: well she was talking to her friend about *insert very oddly specific rant about every microscopic detail*

Selina:

Bruce: ? What?

Selina: ..and youre trashing me for tryna find out who it is.

Bruce: Hey I was debating if I should call out and ask her if she was okay

Selina: Mhmm. Nosy. Imma go check-

Bruce: I have to fill my bottle anyways so I guess I’ll join..

— later —

Harley: and then what happened?

Selina: This mf was waiting for me outside while I found out and then I shooed him away to fill his bottle. And then we both watched as he placed it under the tap only for it to immediately start overflowing

Harley *howling with laughter*

Bruce: IT WAS HALF- EMPTY

Selina: It was FULL

Bruce: ..you’re exaggerating

Selina: Girl be for real you’re just as nosy as I am, that’s why we get along so well~

———————————————————————-

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

For You, I'd Bleed Myself Dry

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Early-ish Alexandria

Warnings: Suggestive (extremely mild); hangover

Summary: You're hung over and don't really remember how you got to Rosita's house the night before. Or what you had said on the way there.

A/N: Just a fun little drabble born of this incorrect quote. Suggested by @marvelcasey05

*gif is not mine

You didn’t expect to find Daryl still home when you wandered in the next morning. He was always an early riser, and though everyone else still slept, he would usually be long gone and outside the gates. So, when you tip-toed through the door and into the kitchen, your heels in your hand, he nearly scared the life out of you. You flipped the lightswitch and:

“Mornin’.”

“Jesus Christ, Daryl!”

The archer chuckled behind his coffee mug before tilting it the least bit more to take a sip. “Rollin’ in awful late.”

You shrugged “Or early, depending on how you look at it. Any left?” You nodded toward the cup. He gave a quiet mhm and got up to make you a mug. Your head was throbbing. You knew your makeup was a mess and your hair a disaster. You had slept in your dress at Rosita’s, so it was wrinkled and you were almost certain that it was only partially zipped in the back.The party hadn’t been that fun but the liquor had been flowing. That was why you went. Things in Alexandria had been stressful. Your group had been there a while. Long enough for so many problems to come along and be handled. The past week had been particularly eventful. Still, it had been handled and there had been some time to cut loose. 

So, you did.

You sat your heels on the counter and muttered a thank you when he slid the mug across the surface, narrowing your eyes across the rim as you readied for a drink. “Do you know how I take my coffee?”

“Guess you’ll need to take a drink an’ find out, won’tcha?” He was perching himself back on the island stool when you realized that Daryl Dixon was barefoot, wearing flannel pajama pants, and a faded Led Zepplin t-shirt. 

“You’re wearing people clothes.” You blinked, still holding the mug close to your mouth. 

Daryl smirked from behind his own cup. “M’a person, contrary to popular belief.” He took another sip, prompting you to take one of your own. He did know how you liked your coffee. Interesting. 

An ache in your left foot reminded you that you wanted nothing more than to go to your room and fall into a coma for a few hours. “I should probably take some—”

“S’behind ya. Got ‘em out earlier. Water too.”

There were two tablets on the countertop by the fridge, along with a glass of water. You warily picked them up, almost as if they would come alive and bite you. “Thank you?”

“Mhm.” 

Quickly swallowing them, you downed the water because coffee wasn’t the best tool for rehydrating, but you’d be damned if you’d give up that mug for anything. Collecting your heels and your coffee, you started walking backwards out of the kitchen. “Listen, I’m gonna head upstairs and get off my—”

“Perfectly good chair right here.” 

“What?” Now you were looking at him as if he’d grown a second head. There were no other chairs in the kitchen. Carol had the only other stool piled full of kitchen junk she had yet to put away. “Are you sure you’re awake?”

“M’wide awake. How’d ya get to Rosita’s last night?” 

Wait. Was Daryl blushing? “She helped—” No, that wasn’t right. Rosita and Tara came back long after you did. You distinctly remembered grumbling at them to turn off the lights. “How did I get there?” You said aloud, though softly.

“I took ya.”

Your shoes hitting the floor echoed through the quiet house, causing both you and Daryl to flinch. After a moment, no baby cried and no adults yelled. You walked forward and placed your mug back on the counter. “What do you mean you took me? You weren’t at the party.”

Cause Daryl’s home. He doesn’t like parties.

He shrugged but the pink tint to his cheeks was now traveling a route up to his ears. “Was workin’ on the bike. Saw ya stumblin’ ‘round in the dark. Didn’t wantcha to get hurt.”

“Did I—did I say anything stupid?”

And if I see him right now, I'm gonna ask to use his face as a chair.

“Nope.” The archer was staring at his coffee cup, rolling the smooth sides between his hands. He absolutely knew what you had said but he was giving you an out. Goddamn that man. He had to be beautiful, rough edged, and chivalrous at the same time? 

“Good.” You nodded. “Good. Thanks for the coffee.” You turned to walk out, leaving the coffee mug behind. “And for—you know, getting me there safely last night.” 

He nodded with a small, tight smile but didn’t say anything else. Maybe he was just teasing you. No, Daryl wasn’t the type. Well, he was but not with things that were at his expense. He was definitely going out of his comfort zone if the red tint on his face was any indication. Did he want to do that with you? You certainly wouldn’t mind. You’d wanted Daryl for as long as you could remember. Even before he started treating the group more like friends than survival buddies. There was always just something about him that called to you, pulled you in like a magnet, but there was this invisible line that didn’t feel safe to cross. Was he toeing that line with you now?

You might never get the chance again if you were to shut him down.

“Hey, Daryl.” You called from the stairs, barely looking over your shoulder. Your heart was racing.

“Yeah?”

“There’s—there’s no chair in my—what’re you—hey!” You were over his shoulder and being hauled down toward his room in the basement before you could do much more than laugh.

“Weren’t no way ya could make any line ‘bout a chair work.”

“Got a bed, right?”

“Got a mattress.”

“That’ll do, Dixon. That’ll do.”