#y'all have no idea how much i adore him

[glitteringaglarond]

The tall green man laughed grimly. 'I am Faramir, Captain of Gondor,' he said.

HE'S HERE!!!

i've waited so LONG for him to arrive, and he's FINALLY HERE!!!

[yuhlena]

morning lads!!

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

THERE THEY AREEEEEEEEEE 😭🫵💖💖💖💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Finished this Sacredshipping commission for @/NyeehhhSure

Thank you for your support!

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[ghostedeabha]

imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose

okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."

thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

wc: 563

warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)

a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3

a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?

simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.

so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.

looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.

"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.

"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.

"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.

"i'm taken."

"i know." you replied with a short laugh.

"you should be touching me like that then."

it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.

"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"

"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.

"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.

sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.

"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.

you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.

"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.

"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.

simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."

you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.

you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.

[eff-plays]

There's one convo with Astarion that's one of my favorites that I haven't seen mentioned or discussed yet happens (I assume) if you have high approval with him but play a good-aligned character. (This is at 60+ approval, start of Act 2.) It's probably because it's not a romantic cutscene so it doesn't get mentioned as much as the others (or because he's racist in it and some of y'all don't like to acknowledge that he has character flaws), but I think it's vital to his character and to explain his early relationship with a good-aligned Tav.

I would like to break it down a little, step by step. Because we are all cringe here.

First, he claims to feel a connection between Tav and himself, and the reason for this is because he believes he's identified "ambition" in Tav (and I'll explain why he's wrong later, but that's mostly headcanon territory, so we'll ignore it for now).

But, there's also clearly something holding Tav back from realizing their full potential, which is their naivete.

"Just that you ... have a big heart. You like doing what's right."

(The animations and voice acting here make him look and sound so fucking condescending, 10/10.)

However, Astarion doesn't tell them this is wrong, or that he disagrees. He implies it's a flaw, but doesn't state it outright. That's dangerous territory, see, and might predispose them to get defensive and reject what he has to say next.

No, he tries (and fails in my case, but it's cute that he tries, bless him) to manipulate Tav by appealing to that big heart of theirs.

"So I was thinking, what would be the right thing to do when we get to Moonrise Towers? When we come face-to-face with whoever is controlling the parasites in our heads."

"I'm just saying there's an opportunity here. If we can control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe and liberate the world from this evil."

See what he's doing? You like doing what's right, so what would be the right thing to do? We can keep ourselves safe. Liberate the world from evil.

It's very blatant, but he's trying to appeal to Tav's good nature by framing his questionable ideas as something that will benefit the greater good, something that's morally righteous that they would agree with.

And of course, it's incredibly funny when you ask how he thinks you'll do that, and he fumbles and admits he's not a "details person," but it's also revealing.

He thinks he's found in Tav ambition, when all he's actually found is ability. Tav exercises power proficiently, while Astarion does not. If he had the authority they have, he'd let ambition drive his actions, which is why he assumes that's what drives Tav when they exercise their power. A good-aligned Tav has very little ambition, I'd argue, but they have plenty of opportunity to exercise their power, which they do when their hand is forced.

So what Astarion is saying is, in effect, hey, you have power, I have ambition. Will you please use your authority/ability to do what I want? Here's how it'll totally be for the greater good, I prommy.

This is brilliant writing, and I really applaud Larian for managing to walk that fine line of making Astarion so sympathetic while he's literally trying to manipulate the player character. Because when I first got this convo, my thought was both "wow, I adore how blatant and terrible his manipulation attempts are, it's kind of endearing" and "he's so terrified, it's genuinely quite tragic."

If we control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe. This works only somewhat as an appeal to good-aligned Tav, because it could also potentially sound very selfish, especially if Tav is the self-sacrificing sort. So notice how, when he says "liberate the world from evil", it sounds kinda tacked-on, an afterthought designed to bury his main goal, which is keep "ourselves" (i.e. himself) safe. Like, yes, this will keep us/me safe, but if you're not into that, then it'll totally help the world, too! It doesn't quite work, because he still sounds ironic and like he doesn't believe they'd be liberating anything from any evil (work that 10 Charisma, boy), but that's the intent, I think.

Does he want power for power's sake? Yes. Is he gleefully powerhungry? Absolutely. But he's also fucking terrified, and that slips through just a little bit, even behind the smug and confident facade.

He's trying to get Tav, whom he's seen exercise their power over others, to lend some of it to him, so that he may never fear anything ever again.

All of this from a short, smug convo where he admits he's too stupid to figure out how to fulfill his dreams of world domination.

God tier characterization, 10/10.

[adventuringblind]

He Must Be Lucky!

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: fluff and crack

Summary: Max gets wasted and can't remember that the reader is his wife. It's endearing how much he simps bith sober and drunk.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, a wild party (at least for Max), Max being down bad

Notes: This one is for @amajixi! I hope you like it! Does anybody wanna send me asks and talk about drivers with me? Give me your most feral thoughts because I'm genuinely curious... please >_< (I even turned my anonymous asks back on please just send me things).

Side note: my fics haven't been getting much traction as they usually do. Is it something on my end? Have y'all disappeared on me? I know I shouldn't care, but y'all are the only ones that validate my writing T_T

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Max has a track record of partying hard. It's who he is, and she lives him for it. There isn't any kind of gripe of hang-up, just Max having fun and doing dumb shit that makes her laugh.

Lando is throwing a - well - a party. There was an excuse for it in the invitation, but she's too buzzed to remember it.

The echoing sound of Max's laughter ricochets off the walls. Daniel is with him, probably getting them into more trouble, but she knows Daniel will look after him. At least until he's trashed and can't get off the floor.

Alex brings her another shot glass. She has no idea what's in it, but Alex is letting loose, and she'll be damned if she doesn't partake.

He raises the shot glass in a toast. "To whatever this party is!" He cheers. They clink their glasses together and down the shots. She gags at whatever was in it.

"The fuck was that, Alex?!" She sputters.

He gives her a blank look. Really thinking hard about what he gave her. "I've got no idea."

The hours seem to tick by. The people are slowly dissipating, leaving the safety of this weird little bubble they've created.

She's lightly buzzed still, having danced off the majority of the shots Alex had her doing. The couch is her new best friend, and Lando had brought her a blanket at some point in the last twenty minutes.

A weight on the other end of the sofa catches her attention. Max, with complete adoration in his blue eyes, is staring at her. "Wow," he slurs. "You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen."

She laughs at his drunken thoughts. "You're not too bad looking yourself, babe."

The smile on his face is almost childish. It's big enough to almost fall off. His cheeks tinged a darker red with the blush adding to the alcohol flush.

"Go on a date with me? Please?" He tries to pout, but it ends up looking awkward mixed with the grin.

She flashes the ring at him. "Sorry, I'm spoken for." Alex and Lando are giggling from where they are watching this interaction unfold.

Max looks like a wounded puppy. Eye's glossing over like her might cry. "He must be such a lucky guy. You're just so perfect!"

"Awe, love, you wanna know a secret?" She leans in to whisper into Max's ear. "You married me."

If Max could hand you the world on a silver platter, he might have tried in this moment. The Dutch is vibrating in pure, unadulterated joy. Like a child who just got the ice-cream they were so desperately craving.

"Holy shit! I'm the lucky guy!"

Max smothers himself against your body. Eventually falling asleep, mumbling about how she's so amazing, and how he loves her so much. It's endearing to here his drunk affections laid bare for everyone to see.

It's the lullaby that calms her to a restful state. Fingers tangling with the softness of his hair. "You're not the only one who's lucky. I guess I'm pretty lucky, too."

[brucewaynehater101]

Tim with hannaki disease

spending his childhood choking on flowers

Barely able to breathe rejection after rejection

Jason is attacking him at the tower and he can’t stop coughing out flowers

when dick gives Damian Robin, Tim leaves the cave spitting out petals

imagine if he died of suffocation during the Bruce quest

Fuck. I love hanahaki disease.

Tw: death, blood, asphyxiation, fictional disease, dead body description, gore

For those of y'all unaware, it's a completely fictional disease where having unrequited love results in the person growing flowers in their chest. It's usually romantic, but I prefer the platonic versons (especially child-parent angst, holy fuck).

I've seen two types of hanahaki:

The love is actually unrequited

The person only perceives the love as being unrequited

Either way, the progression is as follows:

Person coughs up one petal

They start coughing up more and usually blood

They cough up an entire blossom

They die trying to cough up the entire flower (blossom and stem)

There are four outcomes to hanahaki disease, depending on what rules you are working with:

Love becomes requited

Person dies

They have a surgery to remove their ability to have feelings

They lose (voluntarily or not) their memories about their unrequited love

Some people play with flower meanings of the petals being coughed up. I fucking love those versions so much.

Let's get into the AU! The timeline is mine to fuck around with, so excuse any non-canon progressions.

~~~~

Tim has chronic hanahaki disease from his parents. They visit often enough to quell the worst symptoms and mitigate the damage, but they don't stick around enough (or show enough constant attention) for the petals to go away.

Janet once asked Tim if he'd like to get the surgery. Tim said no. Janet respected that choice and never asked again even though Tim was like nine at the time. It also becomes a fear of his. He wakes up in cold sweat at the phantom idea of just not being able to love anyone. It terrifies him, even if the feeling of asphyxiation is the only other option.

When Janet dies and Tim becomes Robin, he does his best to hide his condition from Bruce. It worsens, from the way Tim adores and loves the Bats, but Tim manages.

It's a rough few years, but slowly, the ice begins to melt. The Waynes show Tim more and more affection. YJ also shower him in so much care to the point that Tim has days of uninterrupted breathing.

It's a novel but welcome feeling.

Jack waking up from the coma complicates shit. His condition worsens again, but it's manageable.

Until Tim's sixteenth birthday.

The teen will never admit, but that test nearly fucking killed him. Bruce never finds out how close he was to killing his Robin, but Tim knows. He'll never forget how thorns scraped along his throat at the idea that he can't trust anyone. He'll never rid himself of the intimate knowledge of how blossoms taste in his mouth and the sickly sweet smell of blood mixed with flower petals.

Tim has to quit Robin, for his safety, health, and as a "fuck you" to Bruce, but realizes he can't keep in contact with Dick, Alfred, or Barbara without it. He can't contact his team.

He has to go back, so he does.

Tim's not sure if it's better or worse that Bruce didn't know about the hanahaki. If the man did, would he still have done the test? Due to him never showing remorse or guilt for his actions, the teen doesn't know.

The question pesters him even when his dad finds out about Robin.

It plagues him through Steph becoming Robin and dying.

It festers into his bones when, while wearing those same damn colors, he hears his father die.

That is one or many reasons "Uncle Eddie" was created.

Tim can't quite trust Bruce, but he finds himself still loving the father-like figure in his life. He finds himself forgiving him. He leans into the hair ruffles, shoulder pats, and gruff words of affection. He lets himself be loved.

Then, an undead asshole in a gleaming red bucket comes to kick Tim's ass. The teen can't help but laugh at the way his life bounces between breathing and dying at the drop of a hat.

He's just barely able to hide the flowers from both Red Hood and the Titans.

A little assassin appears, and each attack brings a petal.

Each new death hampers Tim's ability to breathe. Tim tries, but it's so fucking hard. How is he supposed to live without them?

With the ticklish scrape of petals, Tim doesn't think he's supposed to.

Bruce isn't dead. Tim knows, with every fiber of his being, that Bruce can't be dead. Tim won't survive if he is.

Even if Tim loses everything, even if these damn fucking flowers consume him, at least his death will have a purpose.

That's what he tells himself as he lies in a pool of blood beneath the stars. The sand at his back is soft in comparison to the stem piercing his throat and tongue. The sound of his choking is joined by the bubbling wheezing of Pru.

Ra's peers down at the body already set with rigor mortis. Tim's jaw is pried apart by a bouquet of yellow carnations dripping in blood.

The demon head hums at the sight, a dangerous gleam to his eyes. With the flick of a hand, two assassins grab the young detective's corpse. The other three bodies are taken as well.

Tim's eyes fling open as the teen gasps for air.

It's wrong. It's wrong. It's all wrong. He's empty.

He's surrounded in green.

Oh fuck.

For awhile, Tim just soaks in the soft expansion of his lungs. He marvels at their capability.

He can't remember a time when he's been able to breathe so easily. It's enchanting and allots the teen a giddy sort of relief.

Through the destruction of both the Spiders and the LoA, he finds himself taking small moments to just breathe. It's a simple joy he can't help but partake in.

Tim logically knows there's a price. His breaths cost him, though he doesn't know their price. He should be dead and buried within the flowers.

He is neither.

He is alive. He is free (from the petals. It takes him a little bit to become free of Ra's).

Tim brushes aside these valid and alarming concerns to focus on his goals: escape, take down Ra's, and derail whatever retaliation occurs.

So that's what Tim does. He ignores the insistent sense of wrongness and focuses on the task at hand. He coordinates his friends and family. He faces down Ra's. He gets kicked out of a window.

With a grim smile, his body goes lax and his eyes flutter shut

He's done.

When Tim springs up from unconsciousness, Steph's voice reassures him he's safe. She tells him he's in the batcave.

The tension to bleeds from his body as Damian mutters a demand. Tim's eyes dart from Robin to Batgirl to Batman (Dick) to Alfred.

That sinking feeling of wrongness returns.

Dick's eyes are trained on the teen as he asks Tim, "How did you know I'll be there to save you?"

It's obvious the man is worried. It's obvious he's so fucking glad he caught his younger brother.

The lie falls from Tim's lips as smooth as any truth, "You're my brother, Dick. You'll always be there for me."

Dick's face brightens with fond relief.

Tim watches. He observes the reactions of his older brother. He catalogs the effect of his words on the man he's admired and loved for thirteen years.

He notes all of this.

And he feels nothing.

[snowballseal]

okay halloween request... PUMPKIN CARVING WITH THE BOYS ? for some of them I feel like it'd be their first time, and for others I think it could get so chaotic and messy 😭 it's always something I've personally enjoyed and look forward to every year, so I'd super interested to see your take on it !

Carving pumpkins with them (LaDS)

Note: LOVED this! This is what I was hoping for this season. I honestly just went with the first idea I had for each, and I hope it suits what you wanted!

Also, there might be a few mistakes because I just really want to post it. I'll go through and edit it later.

Hope y'all enjoy!!!

---

Rafayel

“Rafayel! Hey, wait- No-!”

“Inspiration can’t wait,” the artist declares, twirling his scoop theatrically before diving into his pumpkin. “Sometimes you have to make a mess for the sake of creativity.”

“You can’t just wait ten seconds for me to put the tarp down?” You can’t help but laugh, desperately trying to spread the plastic out before pumpkin guts end up everywhere. And failing, you might add. 

“It’s my studio, it’s used to my mess already.” Rafayel shrugs his shoulders with one of those stupidly charming smiles. “Now hurry! This lighting is perfect for carving.”

“Okay, okay, don’t leave me behind,” you chirp, all but abandoning the stupid tarp. If he doesn’t care about the mess, why should you? “Scoot over, fishie!”

Rafayel easily makes room for you to jump onto the couch next to him. Besides the tarp, everything is already set out. Your pumpkins, the tools, even a few sketched designs you both worked on. While yours are all pretty simple, or classic as you would so vehemently insist, Rafayel’s are intricate and full of life, much like the rest of his art. Much like him.

A warm mix of nostalgia and giddiness swirl in your chest as the smell of pumpkin slowly fills the air. There’s something so satisfying about hollowing out your pumpkin, sticky, orange insides falling to the floor around you. It’s a mess. A huge mess. But that makes it all the more fun. It feels exactly like when you were a kid.

You glance to the side, biting down on a smile when you take in the equally excited look on Rafayel’s face. He looks so carefree in the golden light of the evening, completely focused on the task in front of him, tongue poked out between his lips ever so slightly. So adorable. 

“How are you going to finish if you stare at me the whole time, cutie?”

Rafayel casts you an amused look, having completely caught you in your moment of admiration. Heat creeps up your neck, tinging your skin an adorable shade of pink in his eyes. He loves the rare moment he catches you off guard, leaving you a sputtering, flustered mess. Like now.

“I wasn’t staring,” you try to defend yourself, though your voice pitches up, a telltale sign of your lie.

“Mhm.” The artist’s lips quirk into a smirk and he leans his chin against his hand, eyes never leaving yours. And that only flusters you more.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Heart racing, you give Rafayel’s cheek a playful push, just to break away from the warmth in his eyes, the warmth you could drown in if you look for too long. Though the low chuckle he breathes out against your palm only makes you blush darker. “I was just- I was just thinking. That’s all. And I just happened to be looking at you when I spaced out. That’s all.”

“Hmm, and what were you thinking about?” He presses, leaning into your touch with that infuriating smile, trying to find your gaze, though you keep it stubbornly locked on your pumpkin. 

“Well, I was uh- I was thinking about um- How we could put a wager on who’s pumpkin will look better?” Oh, that’s a stupid idea. A really stupid idea.

And Rafayel knows it, too. He perks a brow, smile turning almost wolfish, “Oh yah? Alright. What would you like to wager?”

Time to backpedal. “Ummm, maybe the winner gets to pick the movie for our next movie night?”

“That’s not very interesting,” he hums, that all too familiar mischievous glint sparking in his eyes, the one that makes your pulse flutter. You’re totally done for. “How about the winner gets one wish from the loser? And they have to fulfill it, no matter what.”

Yup. Definitely done for.

But you can’t back down, right?

“Deal.”

“Alright then, you better try your best, because I don’t plan on losing, cutie.”

“You’re on, fishie.”

What begins as an excuse quickly fans into a real competition. You dive into your pumpkin with a new enthusiasm, as does Rafayel. Even if you have no shot at winning, you’re not just going to give up and let him swipe victory out from under you. You may not have an artistic bone in your body, but surely your determination can make up for some of that.

Or not.

You bite back a laugh when you finally draw back to survey your sad carving. It’s definitely a step up from the ones you carved as a child, in no small part to the skills you’ve developed in handling sharp objects, but it’s nothing jaw dropping. Still, you’re proud of your little pumpkin pal. You do your best to hide him from Rafayel’s curious eyes, determined to have your big reveal.

“Done, yet?” You ask, unable to hide your building anticipation. You’re practically vibrating on the couch.

“Just one mooore…aaaand…” Rafayel pulls back to appraise his work, the look on his face brimming with satisfaction. “Finished.”

“Okay, okay, let me see!”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he clicks his tongue, turning his pumpkin away. “We have to do it at the same time?”

“Fine.” You pout, but oblige. “Three. Two. One-”

You both reveal your masterpieces.

And your jaw drops when you see his.

Sure, you expected Rafayel to go all out. The man isn’t just a painter after all. While he doesn’t sculpt often, you’ve seen his work from school and the few commissions he’s accepted, and each one blows you away.

So of course carving a pumpkin is a piece of cake for him.

He’s designed a full underwater scene, the main focus being a somewhat spooky looking angular fish. He’s carved layers upon layers into the flesh of the pumpkin, so with the light inside, it gives the piece a depth, the shadows practically moving with the flickering flames.

It’s stunning.

“I think we have a winner,” you admit with a low whistle, “Yours puts mine to shame.”

“You did better than I was expecting,” Rafayel hums, inspecting yours with pensive expression, as if it were some deep work and not just a silly, little face.

Your eyes narrow, “That doesn’t sound like a compliment, Raffie.”

“It is,” he insists, though you can see the teasing glint still in his eyes when they meet yours. “Your line work is clean and you used a lot of details. I’m impressed, really.”

“Mkay.” You shake your head, amusement curling in your chest. Even if he’s making it up, you’re still proud of your work. “So, what’s your wish, winner?”

“You’ll have to wait and find out,” Rafayel says, giving you an all too mischievous wink that tells you that whatever he has planned, it certainly won’t be good. “I can’t let this opportunity go to waste, now can I, cutie?”

---

Zayne

“I’m really okay,” you grumble under your breath.

“I’d prefer to check myself, if that’s alright,” Zayne murmurs, hand held out expectantly.

A blush spreads across your cheeks. There’s really no point arguing with him, you know that, but you can’t help but feel a touch embarrassed.

It was just meant to be a fun night. Both of you finally had the time off, so you spent weeks planning the perfect fall night. You would carve pumpkins and watch the classic seasonal movies, just like you did when you were kids. You’d gotten everything ready before he even came over, hot cocoa, a fall scented candle, everything. It was going to be perfect.

Until you go to actually carve your pumpkin, and end up cutting your finger. You, one of Linkon’s best hunters, fumbling with a simple carving knife. How could you not be embarrassed?

And, of course, Zayne immediately switched into ‘doctor’ mode, dashing whatever hopes you had of breezing by the incident.

“Your hand,” he insists again, slipping into his usual professional tone. It’s only when you give him a sharp frown that he softens a bit, voice taking on a soothing warmth, coaxing you to listen, “Please, my love.”

With a defeated sigh, you give up your injured hand, “Okay. I really am fine, though.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, as your doctor.”

You almost shiver when his fingers circle your wrist, his touch overwhelmingly gentle, his skin cool against yours. It almost feels like a chilly autumn breeze brushing your skin. You watch, heart fluttering uneasily, as he examines your finger. It’s nothing too bad, you weren’t lying. You’ve definitely experienced worse as a hunter, but you also know Zayne to be overly cautious with you. He would put you on bedrest for the most minor fever if he could. And some days, you’ll let him, since it means he’ll spend the day taking care of you, but you’d rather tonight not be like that. Tonight you just want to have fun and enjoy the season with him.

“It’s nothing concerning,” he hums eventually, “We’ll simply apply an antibiotic and wrap it for the night.”

You practically deflate at that. The breath you didn’t know you were holding escapes you in a long, relieved sigh. Zayne’s eyes narrow a little at your dramatics, amusement burning in their depths. He gives you wrist a slight squeeze, thumb brushing thoughtlessly over your pulse.

“Were you that worried we would have to reschedule?”

“I mean, a little, yah.” You shrug, cheeks going red for a new reason. “It’s already hard to find a night when we're both not busy, you know? I’ve been planning this for weeks…”

“Well, we certainly can’t let your plans go to waste.” Zayne says, somewhat teasingly, the tiniest smile flickering along his lips. “Is your first-aid kit still under the bathroom sink?”

You nod. With one final squeeze, he slips away to go retrieve it. You turn your gaze to the untouched pumpkins on the table, letting out another sigh. It really has been a long time since you’ve done this. You remember the times when you were young, when you, Zayne, and Caleb would carve pumpkins while your Grandma would bake the seeds. Afterwards, you would all settle in and watch a movie, tucked up in thick blankets with massive mugs of hot cocoa. You remember you would always wedge yourself between the boys so you could hold the snacks…

Maybe that’s why this felt so important to you. Maybe doing all this was a way of keeping their memory around. And a way of keeping him around.

“Are you alright?”

Blinking, you jump when the couch sinks beside you. Your eyes flash back to Zayne, a forlorn smile pulling at your lips.

“Yah, just thinking about when we did this as kids, you know? With Caleb and Grandma,” you hum. Zayne nods understandingly and reaches for your hand. You let him take it, mind still lingering on the past. “I don’t think I’ve carved a pumpkin since that last time we did it together. It never felt right without you…”

Zayne stays silent as he cleans your cut. You hardly notice the sting of the alcohol, keeping your eyes focused on his face. The focused draw of his brows. The slight purse of his lips. A shadow of something you can’t quite describe passes over his eyes, something worn and aching.

“I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t continue the tradition…” He murmurs, voice tight, as he applies the antibiotic.

“No need to apologize,” you chime softly. You let your gaze fall to his hands, watching the way he works, efficient and quick, yet devastatingly gentle. Always fixing things, even when it’s not his fault. “From now on, we’ll make sure to keep doing it, yah? It was just on pause for a little bit. I bet Caleb and Gran will be happy we’re bringing it back.”

The doctor stills as he finishes wrapping your finger in a bandage. He traces the edges of it, thoughtful and slow, before lifting your hand to his lips. They brush tenderly against your knuckles, a whisper of a cool touch.

“I’m sure they will be, though I’m certain Caleb would scold you for being so careless.”

You snort, eyes crinkling, “Yah, I wouldn’t hear the end of it. Though I bet you’ll make sure of that anyways.”

“As your doctor, it’s part of my job to make sure you’re taking care of yourself,” Zayne rumbles, his breath warm against your skin in contrast to his touch. “Speaking of which, change the bandage once a day and reapply the antibiotic. If it begins to look infected, please come see me at the hospital.”

“Yes, doctor,” you answer, nose scrunching a little impatiently, “Now can I have my knife back? We need to get carving!”

“Will you be more careful this time?”

“Yeeeess.”

Zayne bites back a smile, “Good. If you cut yourself again, I will have to confiscate all your knives. I can’t have my favorite patient getting hurt at home as well as at work.”

“Zayne-!”

---

Sylus

“What’s all this, sweetie?”

A gleeful laugh escaping your lips, you dump an armful of materials on Sylus’ table. He raises a fine brow at you, looking mildly unimpressed as you spread it all out.

“We’re having a pumpkin carving contest at work!” You explain, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “So I decided we’re going to make a night of it! I got the pumpkins, carving knives, a fall scented candle, for ambiance of course, and a vinyl with my favorite halloween tracks! Also for ambiance, but I thought you might appreciate it, too.”

“And if I already have plans for the night?” Sylus hums, leaning his hip against the table as he surveys your bounty.

“You’ll reschedule them,” you sing, stretching up on to your toes to curl your arms around his neck with an absolutely innocent smile, “Because you loooove me, right?”

The tilt of his lips stretches into a full smirk as his hands settle firmly on your hips, his voice low and teasing, “My, what a brave kitten you’ve become. It almost sounds like you’re not asking.”

“Sooo…is that a yes?” You peer up at him questioningly, still holding the innocent facade.

“Hmm…” Sylus hums, as if mulling the decision over. You fuss with the strands of silver at the nape of his neck, trying to give him the best puppy dog eyes you can manage. And despite what he might say, Sylus has never been good at denying you. So, carmine eyes dancing with a touch of fondness, he softens into your touch and concedes, “I suppose I can rearrange my schedule just this once.”

Though that’s what he said before, and this certainly won’t be the last time either.

Still, you let out an excited squeal, dragging him down to press a kiss to his cheek, “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Ah, we’re going to have so much fun! Let me lie out the tarp, I know how much you like this table.”

Sylus chuckles as you jump out of his grasp to get everything ready. It’s like watching a little bird flutter around, rearranging its nest to perfection. You move as if he might change his mind at any moment, though he subtly offers his help, using his evol to set the vinyl. The music crackles softly in the air before it smoothes into the familiar tunes you adore, only adding to the buzzing excitement in your chest.

Once everything is ready, you drag him to sit down beside you. Sylus lets you push him around, amusement curling his lips at the unbridled enthusiasm in your voice.

“Okay! So I got everything we need. Even stencils, though to be honest, I’ll be really disappointed if you use one. I really want to see what the leader of Onychinus can create. Have you carved a pumpkin before?”

You plop down on your chair, round eyes set on him expectantly.

Brow perking, Sylus huffs, “What do you take me for? An uncultured heathen?”

“A little.” You bite back a giggle at the deadpan scowl that earns you. “I’m kidding! Kind of. It’s not like you’ve told me a lot about how you grew up and all that. And I don’t really care, not for now at least, but I figured it’s better to ask.”

“How considerate of you, sweetie,” he hums sarcastically. His eyes shift over to observe the pumpkin you’ve set him in front of, head tilting ever so slightly in thought. “While I didn’t carve one when I was young, I’ll admit that after seeing them over the years, I grew curious. Luke and Keiran insisted on having a contest one year, so I decided to join.”

Now that, you believe. Sylus could also be remarkably lenient with the twins at times. You’re still not exactly sure of what kind of relationship they all have, but it’s certainly cute at times. You can just imagine the boys begging Sylus to join them and him giving in begrudgingly.

“Good,” you chirp, snatching up a marker from the table, “Cause I really want to win this, so I’ll take all the help I can get.”

“Wouldn’t it be considered cheating if you were to submit a pumpkin carved by someone else?” Sylus still follows suit, picking his own marker and setting to work. “What is the prize you so desperately want? You are aware I could just buy it for you myself?”

“One, no, it’s not cheating. They said it could be a family submission, so for all intents and purposes, you’re my family in this.” You try really hard to ignore the look Sylus gives you at that, your cheeks already tinging a soft pink. You’re quick to move on before he can tease you, “Two, the prize is a set of tickets to that new movie that’s coming out on Halloween. You know, the one I’ve been telling you about. And three, it’s not as fun if I don’t earn it!”

“You know, sweetie, there are other ways you could earn-”

“Shush!” You cut him off, ears burning the same color red as his eyes. “Just start carving!”

Sylus chuckles, but obliges. The two of you fall into comfortable conversation as you design and carve, talking about work and the twins and all the plans you have for the season. For the most part, Sylus just listens. Your excitement is nearly tangible as you talk, lighting up the room more than any light could. And it’s quite entertaining to watch you gesture so animatedly as if you’re not holding a knife in your hands. 

You eventually focus in, though, falling into the groove of carving out your design. It’s been too long since you’ve done this, you think to yourself, but it’s just as fun as you remember. And getting to look over and see Sylus working with the same level of dedication he gives everything else? Well, you’re not sure a more perfect night exists.

“Aaaaand…” You draw back, surveying you work with narrowed eyes, before clapping your hands together. “Done!”

Sylus, who had been done for a while, raises a brow. He subtly leans over, eyes scanning your carving. Biting your lip, you watch, delight warming your chest when you catch the flicker of surprise pass through his eyes.

“Is that…Mephisto?”

“Yes! Isn’t he so cute?” You twist the pumpkin so he can see it more clearly. While it’s maybe a little rough around the edges, “I think I captured his essence pretty well.”

Sylus leans back, lips twitching with a suppressed smile, “It certainly is…accurate to his character.”

“I’ll take it! What did you carve?” You jump from your chair and drape yourself over his shoulder. And the sight in front of you makes your jaw drop. Because of course this is Sylus, and of course Sylus is good at practically everything he does. “Is that a wanderer? It looks so accurate!”

“It seemed to suit the theme.” He shrugs as if it’s nothing, though a tiny smile twitches at the corner of his lips, betraying his satisfaction with your reaction. “So which will you submit to your little work contest?”

“I don’t know,” you hum, resting your chin on his head. 

Sylus huffs, reaching up to squeeze one of your arms, glancing up at you with a smug look, “Perhaps you can think about it over a movie, hm? We still have much of the night left, afterall, and I did move around my schedule for you.”

Something warm flutters in your chest, and you nod, “Yah, I’d like that.”

“Perfect. Then, shall I grab some wine?”

“I’ll grab the blankets!”

---

Xavier

“What are we doing again?”

“We’re carving pumpkins!” You cheer excitedly, dashing back into the room with the pack of carving knives you bought. “You said you’ve never done it right? It’s basically a right of passage!”

Xavier sits perched on your couch. Two large pumpkins rest on the coffee table in front of him, on top of a rather large tarp. There’s no way you’re getting orange stains on your rug after all, but getting messy is half the fun. You drop down onto the couch beside him, biting your lip to hold back some of your giddiness.

“And what do we do with them once they’re carved?” Xavier asks, peering down at his pumpkin as if it might attack him suddenly, like some kind of Wanderer.

“We put them outside your front door, so everyone can see.”

“Why?”

You shrug, using your teeth to break through the packaging of the carving set (though you definitely have scissors somewhere). Xavier watches you carefully, wariness shifting from the pumpkin to your feral techniques. You just shoot him an unabashed grin when you successfully get it open.

“I think people used to do it to scare away bad spirits. Now it’s just a part of the season.” You carefully lay out all the tools, going through a mental checklist of everything you need. “We carve pumpkins, bake the seeds, and watch scary movies.”

The mention of snacks makes Xavier perk up. A glint of curiosity brightens his sleepy, blue eyes. “Baked seeds? Like the ones sold in the stores?”

“Yah, but way better,” you hum, “We can season them however we like! I like to make them how my Grandma used to, but we can also try some other seasonings if you want?”

“I’ll rely on your expertise,” the hunter murmurs with a small, teasing smile, “You seem to be quite the master of this season.”

Your cheeks flush a faint pink. You do love this time of year. You always have. There’s something about the chill in the air, the scent of pumpkin spice drifting from the cafes, the perfect crunch of the leaves under your boots. All of it just makes your heart feel so…happy.

And now you get to share it with your favorite person. Your partner. Your star.

How could you not love that?

“Okay, first things first, we draw our designs.” You snatch a sharpie from your pile of tools and hold it out to him.

Xavier takes the pen, looking almost hesitant, “And it’s meant to resemble a face, correct?”

“It can be whatever you want,” you tell him, “Most people try to do scary faces or silly ones, but I’ve also seen plenty of tombstones and moons, stuff like that. That’s the fun part, it’s all up to you.”

“I guess I’ll just have to use my imagination then,” he murmurs, as if the concept is completely foreign. Which, honestly, given his straightforward tendencies, wouldn’t be surprising to you.

“Exactly.” You lean over and nudge your shoulder against his playfully. “Just have fun, Xav. We don’t even have to put them outside if you think your pumpkin will get bullied. This is just for us.”

Xavier huffs out a faint laugh, some of the tension finally slipping from his shoulders. “One might think you’re doubting my artistic capabilities.”

“Xavier, I once turned in some paperwork that you doodled on and Captain Jenna asked if my nephew was visiting.”

You watch with a rather delighted smile as his ears go positively red, his eyes looking everywhere but you as he tries to move right past your truthful jab, “Shall we begin, then?”

Of course. You don’t even hesitate in snatching up your own marker, if only to give him a moment of peace, even though you really want to tease him further. Cradling your pumpkin in your lap, you start by mapping out a classic jack-o-lantern face. You don’t want to do anything too fancy and actually make him feel bad. This isn’t about making the best one, after all, it’s about doing it together. And the classics are classics for a reason, anyways.

Every so often, you steal a glance at the man beside you. There’s something divinely sweet about the moment, the contented breath in the room, the slight shuffle of your sweaters brushing against each other every so often. 

It almost surprises you how much Xavier seems to get into it. His brow furrows ever so slightly, eyes taking on that serious gleam they only get when he’s focusing. The sleeves of his sweater bunch around his elbows cutely, like a little kid trying to stay clean, though you can already spot a small fleck of orange on his cheek.

How adorable…

“Shouldn’t you be more focused on your work?” Eyes never leaving his pumpkin, a small smile tilts the corner of Xavier’s lips, his ears still a pretty shade of pink. Embarrassed by your staring but confident enough to tease you back a little now.

“Hmmm, but it’s so fun to watch you,” you tease back, tone dripping with something soft, “And you have something on your cheek, by the way.”

Xavier blinks, eyes widening a fraction. He quickly swipes at his cheek - the wrong cheek - and glances at you expectantly, to which you shake your head.

“Here, let me-” The hunter freezes when you lean across the couch, reaching toward his face. You don’t miss the way his breath falters, or how his skin flushes even darker when your thumb brushes against his cheek. Drawing back, you give him an amused grin, “All gone. Just a little pumpkin. Now, back to carving, mister.”

Your grin only grows wider when he grumbles and turns back to his pumpkin, as if ducking his head can hide his blush from you. For someone who’s so impassive most of the time, he’s so easy to fluster when it’s just the two of you. Like a cute little bunny that doesn’t want to admit how cute it is.

Biting back a giggle, you turn back to finish your own carving.

It doesn’t take long for you both to finish, since neither of you went with particularly complex designs. You went with a spooky face, sharp teeth, horns, the works. And you’re definitely proud of how sinister it looks.

Xavier’s also turns out much better than you were expecting, all his experience with swords and daggers really paying off in a strange way. It’s adorable really. You can’t help but smile when he turns his pumpkin to reveal a small star with a smiley face on it. It’s a little wobbly and uneven, but still absolutely cute.

“That looks great, Xav! He’s so cute!” You gush, tracing the outline. “I’m impressed.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, unable to hide his own glow of pride, “So now what do we do?”

“Noooow…we bake the seeds!”

---

I'm incapable of writing short blurbs apparently, which is really annoying. Sylus' was my favorite though. Best spooky boy.

[turtletaubwrites]

My Pretty Little Thief

Thank you @wallachianblood for this request! The idea and prompts were so cute, and I had way too much fun with it 😊🔥 I hope you enjoy it!

Pairings: Ace x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2004

Ao3 Link

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

Summary: Ace knows where he left his hat. But when it's not there, he hunts it down, only to discover the culprit. How can he convince the thief to return his precious hat?

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Smut, Established Relationship, Nipple Play, Cunnilingus, Penis in Vagina Sex, Unprotected Sex, (Wrap it up y'all), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Just a bit of, Rough Sex, Temperature Play, Playful Sex, Teasing, Kind of Mention of Public Sex, (Ace just wants people to hear), Creampie, Maybe tiny Dacryphilia? (you have one tear that he thinks is "cute"), Pet Names, Fluff and Smut

A/N: I adore this man!! This one just feels super sweet and playful to me. Enjoy!

“I swore I hung it up here,” Ace muttered to himself as he scratched his head, holding up a towel around his waist.

He recalled taking off his hat, hanging it on the door, and heading into the showers. 

Narrowing his eyes at the empty hook, he yawned before heading to his quarters. 

I know I didn’t leave it in here…

His room was a bit of a mess, and Ace sucked his teeth at the sight of the clothes on the floor. 

He knew it couldn’t be down there, but he had to check, annoyance building the longer his hat wasn’t in sight. 

Keeping one hand on his towel, Ace got to his knees, leaning down to check under his bed.

“Ahem.”

Ace tensed, flipping around to see his door close, but his eyes were only on you.

You.

“Bam, got ya,” you said, mocking his voice as you pointed finger guns his way. You brought a finger to your lips, blowing imaginary smoke his way.

Ace’s eyes raked over your bare skin, loving the way your breathing hitched when he watched you. All you wore were cowboy boots, a belt around your waist, and… 

“That’s my hat,” Ace teased, just a hint of threat in his words. He sat on the ground, leaning his back against the side of the bed. 

“Are you sure? I think it looks better on me.”

“Oh,” he asked with a laugh, shaking his head at you. “Why don’t you come a little closer, and I’ll take a look?”

You bounced on your toes for a moment, giving him the cutest fucking smile before shaking your head.

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“Trust me,” Ace questioned, mock outrage given away by his shit eating grin. “You’re the thief. Guess I’ll have to take it back from you myself.”

He loved the look in your eyes when you watched him stand, leaving the towel on the floor. The way your eyes widened every time his cock sprang loose, as if you could never get enough of him. 

You held your finger guns out to ward him off, but he just grabbed your wrists, leaning down to kiss your fingers.

“Bam,” you breathed, shooting a fake bullet against his lips.

“Oh no, you got me!”

Ace cried out, falling to his knees as you giggled, his warm hands sliding up and down on your thighs. 

“Looks like I’ll have to take you down to get what’s mine.”

Your laughter turned into a gasp as he pushed your back against the door. 

He wrapped one hand into the belt at your waist, holding you firm, then spread your thighs with the other.

“My hat does look pretty good on you from down here, sugar. But I’m still gonna take it from you.”

Your reply was cut short by the press of warm lips against your core, his tongue dipping into your wet folds so fast you felt dizzy. 

You felt him chuckle against your skin as you wobbled, and he gripped your belt harder, forcing your hips where he wanted them. 

“Such a brazen thief, I wonder what kind of punishment you deserve.”

He watched you moan and writhe, pressing yourself up against the door. 

“Who knew criminals could taste this sweet?”

He swirled his tongue around your clit before sucking it between his teeth. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder as he shoved his tongue into you as deep as he could go. 

“F-Fuck, Ace…”

“Oh, is my little villain already sorry? Ready to give me what’s mine?”

A cute whimper left your throat, but all you did was shake your head. 

He grinned, then sucked your clit back into his mouth. Then he made his tongue warm, and warmer, and hot, until you yelped, trying to pull away from him. He stopped the heat, but he didn’t let you escape, yanking on that belt while you squirmed. 

“Can’t take the heat…”

Ace teased you, pulling back to kiss your thighs. He looked up at your pretty face, your skin all flushed for him. 

He stood, pressing you against the door, his cock twitching as it traced against your skin. 

“You wanted to be a cowgirl, huh, baby?”

He grabbed your hands again, kissing them while you caught your breath.

Pulling one hand away, you pointed your finger at his heart with another breathy ‘bam.’

Ace let out a surprised, and joyful laugh. You were always so fun, so beautiful, so free. And you always seemed to want him. 

He lifted you up, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, twisting your fingers into his still damp hair. 

He had planned on taking you to the bed, but when your wet cunt rubbed along his cock, he lost all rational thought, head leaning forward to moan in your ear. 

Your back hit the door again, and you felt the wood groan from the weight. 

“Wait–”

Your eyes rolled back as he rubbed his length along your clit, covering himself in your need for him. 

“Ace…”

His head was buried in your neck, breathing in your scent, and the sound of his name on your lips was everything. 

He lined himself up, holding you against the door. Slowly pushing into your tight, wet pussy, he moaned softly as your body clenched around his with every inch. 

“Ace,” you moaned, this time your voice was high and strained as you fought to stay quiet against the door.

“My pretty little thief,” he rasped in your ear, thrusting so fucking slowly into you. 

There was no better feeling than sinking himself into you, hearing your soft breaths, feeling your frantic heart. 

The aching pressure building in you made you shake, and you were clawing at his back as you tried to stay up, and stay quiet. 

“Please,” you stuttered, moaning again as he tilted his hips up into you. 

“Alright, cowgirl.”

Ace finally took you away from the door, fingers digging into your ass as he slammed you onto him a few times before walking to the bed. 

You had already lost. The hat was about to fall off your head from the way you twitched for him. 

You gasped as he climbed onto the mattress, standing on the edge as he turned. With his back to the bed, your eyes widened at his mischievous smile.

“Wait, Ace, don—“

“Hang on to my hat, gorgeous.”

“No!”

You grabbed his hat at the last second, hand pressing it onto your head as he let himself fall backwards onto the bed.

He laughed as he kept a firm grip on your hips, luckily keeping you in place as you fell.

But even with his effort to keep your body still on his, the slam onto the mattress made you both cry out.

You were reeling from the force of his cock, hitting so deep as you bounced onto the bed.

“Ace!”

You slapped his chest, still panting, trying to breathe.

He couldn’t help the laughter that burst out of him at your blown out eyes, your outrage diminished by the desperate way your mouth hung open. 

“Go on then, cowgirl. Take me for a ride.”

You let out what had to be a growl, pressing your hands down on his chest as you tried to fuck yourself onto his thick cock. 

With all that he’d already done to you, your body was limp and shaking. You rolled your hips, running your fingers along the muscles of his stomach, his chest, playing lightly with his nipples until he let out a breathy laugh. 

You gained some leverage, digging your boots into the bed as you started to lift off of him until just the tip of his cock was sunk into you.

Then you dropped down on him, your aching cunt sucking him in, the intense heat of his body filling you up.

“Your cock feels so good, Ace. I need you inside me everyday, baby.”

Needy whimpers left his throat, until your legs turned to jello, and you couldn’t keep up the pace.

“My pretty little cowgirl can’t ride? Do you want me to show you how, darlin’?”

“Mmhm,” you moaned, eyes heavy lidded as you nodded. 

“Ya gonna give me my hat back if I make you scream on my cock, princess?”

“Fuck, please, Ace.”

He thrust up into you abruptly, reaching a hand up to touch your beautiful face. He brushed away a cute little tear as you pressed your face against his warm hand.

“That didn’t sound like a yes. Guess I’d better not make deals with thieves.”

He stopped every movement, your own movement falling limp without his support.

“Wait, yes, please! Please make me come on your cock, I swear I’ll give your hat back.”

He rubbed his thumb over your drooling lips, smiling when you didn’t hesitate to suck it into your mouth. 

“There’s my pretty baby. Hold on tight.”

You gripped his chest again as he dug his heels into the mattress. He held the belt tight on your waist, using it to fuck up into you harder and faster than you were expecting so soon, and you let out a small, but filthy scream.

He kept thrusting as he laughed, so fucking pleased to watch you unravel for him.

“Already screamin’ for me, huh, baby? Looks like I get my hat back now.”

He sat up, pressing your bodies together as he rocked into you on his lap. 

Your faces were so close, breaths mixing as he teased raspy words in your ear.

“You look really good getting fucked in my hat, darlin’. You like getting in trouble, don’t ya?”

All you could could was moan, high and desperate. He could tell you were so close to that edge, and he needed it, needed you.

“You want me, baby?”

His question had you clenching on him harder, and he moaned while you answered.

“I want you so bad, Ace. I want you to fill me up. Fuck, please come inside me, I need you.”

His fingers dug into your thighs, body fighting not to give into your words that very second.

“Give me my hat back,” he said in a growl, watching your body shiver at his demand. With shaky hands, you lifted his hat up, your hair so adorably mussed, then set it on his head while he kept gently pushing into you. 

“Good girl.”

He flipped you onto your back, wasting no time. He pressed your thighs toward your shoulders, hunting for that spot that makes you melt.

You came almost instantly, knuckles shoved between your teeth as you tried, and failed, not to scream. 

Ace didn’t care if anyone heard. He loved that everyone knew how much you wanted him, loved hearing you scream his name.

He would have told you not to hide it now, but the sight of your sweet body, writhing underneath him, was too much. 

“Fuuckk... Coming, princess.”

“Ace!”

He used the belt like a handle again, shoving as deep inside you as he could. 

You milked his cock of every fucking drop, his come filling you, a wave of liquid heat inside you.

You were limp as he pressed slow kisses on your chest and face. Finally, you made little whimpers and squirmed as he pulled out of you. His eyes almost rolled back at the sight of his come spilling out of your messy little cunt.

“How’s my pretty hat thief?”

You hummed, a contented smile on your lips making him want to do this everyday. To make you feel good everyday. 

“I think you killed me,” you laughed, voice weak as you reached your hand up to touch his cheek. 

“I could never kill my little criminal,” he teased, kissing your lips so softly as his eyes melted into yours. 

“I love you too much.”

You pinched his cheek, face flushing as you grinned, the sight of you stopping his breath for a moment. 

“I love you too, Ace.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: I would like to take him home and protect him from the world, pretty please??

Tag List: @shewrites02

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |

[the-raindeer-king]

The 141 and having kids with them :) This was fueled by a random thought I had at work, and it was written at like 3am. Pls be kind.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Due to his personal experiences, I think he probably would be against having kids in the beginning. Like he's seen and been through so much, and I think his main fear would be ending up like his dad. So he always just wrote it off as something he never wanted to experience

UNTIL YOU COME IN 

And at some point, maybe after Johnny starts having kids, Simon sees you interacting with one of the babies. And something about seeing you with a baby on your hip flips a switch in his brain. 

He wants a kid and he wants one now.

Anyway y'all definitely don't stop at just one kid. I like the idea of Simon with 3 kids, all girls of course. He just exudes girl dad energy. 

He's a great dad too btw. Retires from field work after the second girl is born, and absolutely adores them. Encourages them to engage in extracurricular activities. Would coach their sports team if any of them join. Never misses a recital (totally doesn't try to get the other task force members to show up. 🙄 They just happened to be free lmao)

If any of the girls enlisted, he'd probably try to talk them out of it at first. War is brutal, and the idea of any of them going through what he did makes him sick with worry. But he comes around to the idea, and in the end, is so proud of them. 

He's proud of them regardless. All three are firecrackers with big personalities, and he loves them so much. 

John Price

I think, when he was younger, Price wanted kids. Liked the idea of a wife/husband, a house with a yard, and a couple kids. And it just… never happened. Life got in the way, and how could he bring a child into this world, with all the things he's seen? He made his peace with it, and moved on. 

And then he meets YOU. And suddenly he finds himself hoping for these things again. Especially kids. 

Give this man a baby, please! He exudes fatherly energy (in more ways than one ;p) 

After y'all have the first kid, he retires from the military all together. He's paid his dues, and he's got something far more important now: you, and your sweet baby boy :)

I could see Price either only having one, or having a handful of kids. Probably no more than 3 (two boys and a girl) 

A good dad. Maybe gets a little too invested in their sports games, probably ends up as a coach after correcting the old one too many times lmao 

Would be so proud if any of your kids followed in his footsteps. If none of them do, I think he'd be quietly disappointed but proud of them nonetheless. The two of you raised some wonderful kids. 

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Probably never really gave it much thought. Like having kids would be cool. Not having them is fine too. Kyle definitely wasn't stressing it, he's got bigger things to worry about.

I mean that is until YOU come along. And now he's thinking about getting married and having babies. 

Definitely talks with you about it in detail. He wants your opinion on it, what method to go about it, if you think you're ready for that. A very lengthy conversation that ends in a mutual agreement. 

I think Kyle wouldn't want more than 2. Like you could convince him, if you want more. But he's fine with a small family. 

2 boys. Twins. Absolutely a handful, and Kyle's there to help when he can. I don't think he'd leave the military until the boys are older, maybe 10/11. But he steps up when he is home, giving you a well deserved break from parenting. 

Loves your boys. Play wrestles with them when they're little, brings them trinkets back from his deployments, takes note of their interests and different personalities. 

Wouldn't mind either way if they enlisted or not. Kyle would be proud of them regardless. You've raised two fine boys, what's not to be proud of?

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish 

Oh, Johnny boy here wants a big family. He's dead set on having kids. It absolutely is a deal breaker for him. His partner has to want kids too.

So when he meets you. And you want kids too, he's over the moon. 

If you've got a uterus, the first kid definitely happens unintentionally. Y'all weren't actively trying, Johnny just can't keep it in his pants lmao. 

If not, then it's all planned out and everything goes smoothly, whether that's surrogate or adoption. 

Like I said, BIG family. I'm talking like 5 kids at the least. You cannot talk him out of it.

Also gives big girl dad energy. Probably ends up with 4 girls and 1 boy. And he's fine with it! Loves getting his nails painted and throwing tea parties, just as much as he loves playing soccer and wrestling 

Like Kyle, Johnny doesn't immediately retire. Sometime after the girl 4 and the baby boy, he'd retire from field work. But he's always facetiming with the kids and bringing them stuff back. Being dad doesn't stop just because he's halfway across the world. 

Would be so proud if any of them enlisted. Would probably cry unashamed. But he's equally as proud of them if they don't. 

[court-jobi]

Alexa, Play...

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work OR the mindblowing art of @gsony24~used w permission))

Pairing: Midoriya x reader

Words: 1.6k

Rating: G~

Warnings: Southern US!GNreader, comfort fic, tooth-rotting fluff here y'all, established relationship, language barrier, dancing-in-the-kitchen level self-insert

Summary:

Izuku comes home to spot your grocery list on the fridge written out in your native language- something he sees just as rarely as hearing you speak it. Just when he thinks he couldn't possibly find you more adorable, you strike a match and chuck it into his heart with a touch as simple as a peck on his cheek, a laugh thrown his way... or -like now- when you chat over the phone in an accent he never gets to hear. He wants to hear more so badly, and asks for it so sweetly.

A/N: a short n'sweet one today, folks, bc I was missing writing for this sweet green bean. I have yet to see MHA: You're Next, but have no one to see it with ughhhhh so off to writing fanfic to soothe the pain~

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

You're on the phone with your mom when Izuku finds your sticky note for shopping on the fridge. His mindful shut of the door was appreciated by your mouthed apology, but let him know that he'd best occupy himself solo for a bit while you catch up. The time difference between your home country and here leaves your windows to chat limited, so he’s happy when your schedules align like this. 

If you'll be on a while longer, he thinks he can take a quick drive and pick up these few things for you. Inspired by the idea, he plucks the list out from the magnet’s hold.

You've got nice handwriting, a blend between printed letters and a tilted, cursive script. Personality shines especially near the end of a word, when you're rushing to move onto the next thought. 

Painter’s tape

bananas

white vinegar (stupid drain line)

It's so simple, but when it's written in your native language by default, it feels like a secret to be reading even something so simple as a list like this– scribbled out in the way as it appears in your head.

For most formal paperwork, your kana characters are decently executed, though it's always going to be harder when you grew up speaking Japanese rather than filling out lines and lines of bellwork in the kanji style. This isn't to say you've not been trying:

Over the course of your courtship, you've bonded with young Eri as an extension of Izuku's life and have inherited some of her early learning textbooks. You happened on them by accident, when you were helping her paint her room a few months ago. It sounded elementary when you expressed the interest to read and write Japanese better, and the sweet girl was so enthusiastic to help! 

She lent you her books, but of course you weren't becoming an expert overnight. However slow you’d pace yourself, Izuku was plenty proud of you for making the effort. He'd allow you as much grace as he could spare– especially since your notes were still so cute to find here and there~

Across the room, pacing along every other tile on the floor like stepping stones, you look up catching Izuku staring. You’ve been deep in conversation for only about an hour, but give him a wrench of your nose in jest, and begin wrapping up the call explaining that he’s home and you’d like to greet him properly. 

Izuku calls out a quick 'hi’ and ‘bye' to your mom when he motions to go on speaker; you're not one to refuse him, as he well knows. 

You seem pleased on more than one front when he asks to talk to your family, so he continues to do it. For one, you’re touched by how spirited he is to even want to interact with your mother, and his dropping of formalities and reverting to English to speak to her means a lot to you. Neither point is lost on sweet Izuku, based on how your smile brightens when he jogs over to you to be more in speaking range. 

When you hang up, you're quick to pop up and kiss him as a welcome home. Izuku hangs onto you a little longer than usual, thumb rubbing into your cheek as he savors you several times in quick succession. 

Just when he thinks he couldn't possibly find you more adorable, you strike a match and chuck it into his heart with a touch as simple as a peck on his cheek or a laugh thrown his way. 

“‘Zuku, what's that look for, babe?” 

In your sentimental bliss, you're still surprised to get such adoring treatment from him almost a year into a relationship. 

“Nothing,” Izuku chimes back, “I just forget that you're this American sometimes~”

“Whaddya mean, ‘you forget’?!” the concept sounds hilarious to you. 

“I do!” Izuku offers to take your phone to plug it in nearby, “I have to remind myself that Japanese isn't your first language, until I see you on FaceTime with your mom. Out of nowhere, I'll just hear you sound so different, like: ‘byyyye~ talk to y'all later’!”

You snort at his attempt at a southern accent– stiff and stuck on the wrong vowels. Clearly this succeeds in amusing you, because you hop up and down on the balls of your feet like you've discovered a new game:

“Oh my God, ‘Texas Smash Deku’ is the stuff of my fantasies!– oo!! say, ‘I’d like a honey butter chicken biscuit’~”

“WHAT?? N-no!!”

“What YES!! Please??”

Both doubled over in laughter, you're entertained over his thorough embarrassment, but you're both smitten and carefree: holding onto each other despite nearly buckling at the knees.

Izuku tries his best to catch his breathe first, determined to explain himself,

“I can't do it right! It's like- you say things- I don't know how to describe it! It's not just the flat, movie star accent.. It's–"

“What, a-- ‘drawl’? ‘Twang’?”

Izuku snaps at the realization.

“Yes!! That!! The country kind, like that chef you watch!”

You've rolled your eyes, stepping out of his kind hold in favor of checking out what takeout he brought home. 

“-Hey, no, come back!”

“‘Makin’ fun'ah my accent, I outta smack you’.”

You're far from really mad as you tote around the kitchen getting silverware and soy sauce, but Izuku follows you around like a shadow regardless. Eyes full of that puppy love, he does try to block you in from the pantry closet,

“I’m sorry, honey~”

“No you're not.” --but you're grinning out of forgiveness anyway.

Izuku sneaks a hold on you, reeling you in. It’s cozy in your shared kitchen, alight with just the right amount of overhead lighting and enough space for you two to stand and share tasks.

“I do like hearing you talk like that,” he shares contentedly, “It’s nice to listen to that side of you, especially when you have a lot to say.”

“Yeah well,” you turn into his arms, rather than away, “I'm sure you've noticed already, it comes from her side of the family. Guess I can't really ditch the accent whenever I switch back. The more I think about it… I'm gonna be happy if I can keep sounding like her as I get older. Lets me keep something of hers- even if my ‘dashing hero’ of a man over here thinks I'm being cheeky."

“No, I'm not teasing now! I mean it,” Izuku presses into you, “I only meant, you don't hold back or anything when you're chatty with her.”

He wonders if it stems from shyness, your avoidance of using too much English here at home. If you’re jamming out while doing chores -presuming you’re alone- you’ll switch the station once you know you have an audience.

“Not trying to hide it with you! I'm just out of practice here. No one else in our circle really uses English, so it doesn't come up, I guess.”

You make the point with a wistful aire. Occasionally you'll sub English classes as a favor to Izuku’s effervescent coworker at UA, but not often enough to get too much exposure. He's always been impressed with your Japanese diction, and thinks you could very well go into teaching if you ever wanted a career change.

Still, whether its for work or play, it’s a sound that’s intrinsically you, and there’s a magic to it that Izuku finds himself chasing. A secret power of yours, if he could only unlock it.

“--Plus, I don't think a lot of the slang translates over?” you get comfortable in his arms, locking your fingers behind his neck with no intention of leaving as you muse, “You guys have your own here, and that’s hard to figure out anyway.”

“I suppose you’re right.” 

Tenderly, you run your nails through his hair, a thoughtful look up to him, 

“Do you want me to use it more at home? Lay on the sugar for ya?”

A chance to hear you at your core? Watch your handwritten notes come alive?

“If you want-” Izuku softens, “-if you’re comfortable.”

“Can you understand me though?”

“I can hear you. It only gets hard when you get excited, ‘cuz you talk fast.”

You fuss back at him, “Oh, as if you don't.”

Caught under your hypocritical eye, he can only offer an honest chuckle back, “Fair~”

But for all of your feeling put on the spotlight, you seem to hold a soft spot for the way Izuku makes his requests:

“ ‘I guess I can indulge ya, since you asked so nicely.’ ”

–and it’s enough for him to try his hand to give you a linguistic sparring partner right back:

“ ‘Say something else.’ ”

All English flies out the window when he's looking at you like this, as you fall under a fit of nervous laughter, “What am I supposed to say?!” 

“ ‘Sing me a song, my love. Something 'twangy'.”

You giggled, "'Twangy', good Lord…” 

Izuku could write novels on everything from your finest features to even your most pensive insecurities, romanticizing each of them into a beautifully imperfect anthology. He does so in his mind, at least, when you’re barely lucid on the edge of sleep but still trying to engage him in meaningful conversation. He’ll do so in the notes on his phone, when he learns of yet another favorite token of yours, and wants to add it to the list of comfort measures he can refer to when you need it most.

And when you prompt Alexa to play your newly revealed ‘Karaoke hours that will never see the light of day’ playlist -the one that’s chock-full of female power ballads which you begin to sing your own rendition to-  Izuku is certain his mind nor fingers nor heart can catalog how much more he can possibly love you… though he’ll dance in place with you as he listens and soaks it all in.

[fatal-thoughts]

Anon here requesting a part 2 to the recent Telemachus fic. Please 🙏

(Btw- I adore your writing style! Gonna binge your fics later ^^)

Aw, tysm! A lot of yall really want a part 2 so here you go, my loves.

A Lovely Exchange P 2

P1 here

Telemachus x Reader

Synopsis: Telemachus already fights off his mother’s suitors, but what if he manages to become one? To… one of the palace’s servants?

A/N: Ya'll are hilarious in the comments of part 1, dw I hear ya'll I hear y'all loud and clear. Also, don't be shy to send me asks and even suggestions, I don't mind^^

“You like her, don’t you, son?”

Wait… WHAT??

HOW DID SHE KNOW?

Was it that obvious? 

WAIT! I DIDN’T KNOW!—

Telemachus was breaking in a cold sweat, his fists shaking as he maintained his eye contact with the ground, not wanting to face his mother.

“I-I…”

‘This is fine, this is fine! Everything will be fine. Just—just lie, right? That seems easy enough…’

He takes a deep breath.

“I… do…”

Athena he has said this once and he shall say it again, please come to his aid.

Penelope’s eyes light up upon hearing that. 

Telemachus was holding his breath so much you’d think he was about to pass out. Thankfully, his mother spoke before he turned blue.

“Good, I always knew you had the eyes for her. Honestly, son, I was just waiting for you to tell me! I always wondered why you’d often avoid Y/n, she is always so sweet and kind—mostly the reason why I favour her so much. Then I realised that's why you were avoiding her. You liked her! How adorable.”

Telemachus took a few good seconds (or more) to process his mother’s words.

Seriously? She KNEW?

And she didn’t SAY ANYTHING?

Well shit, he didn’t know he was that obvious. She could’ve spared him the embarrassment on that one but alright.

“Mom, you knew? This entire time? You KNEW?”

Telemachus asked, standing up and going through a crisis right in front of his mother. Penelope nodded with a sweet smile on her blissful face.

“Why did you not say anything?”

“I wanted to see for myself of course. And the way you spoke to Y/n earlier just proved it.”

Fuuuck he was so AWKWARD WHEN HE SPOKE TO Y/N.

Athena can turn back time, right? She's a goddess so she’s definitely capable of that right? Or maybe he can make a deal with another god just so that Y/n can forget that Telemachus ever existed.

God, he wanted to pass out so badly!!

“It’s alright son, Y/n is more than suitable to be your partner! Speaking of which, look at how beautiful the roses have blossomed this day. You sure chose a lovely girl to court, do you think this is her favourite flower? Or Is it daisies? ”

Penelope sounded so blissfully unaware as she put her hands together, excited with the idea of Telemachus and Y/n together.

“Mom! Please! I’m not even able to speak to her in complete sentences yet! Let alone be her partner right now! Y/n is…”

“Yes, my prince?”

A serene voice called out.

Telemachus froze like ice. 

His mother on the other hand immediately got up on her feet as she approached the voice.

“Y/n! Just in time, my dear. We were just talking about you.”

…Shit.

Having heard your name be called out from a distance, you decided to see where all the commotion was coming from. Soon enough, you found yourself being approached by the Queen and a very… conflicted looking Telemachus.

Did he tell his mother about what happened earlier? Is he still nervous? Why did he look so… red?

Your thoughts were put on hold as you saw Queen Penelope in front of you.

“Did you need anything, my Queen?”

You asked her, her gaze mischievously shifting from you to Telemachus for a split second.

“My son and I were just speaking of your beautiful work in the garden, my dear. You’ve outdone yourself Y/n.”

Telemachus nodded in agreement, an offputting smile on his lips and a pink hue returning to his cheeks and migrating into his ears, which he tried to hide under his hair. 

It was no surprise the flowers you grew were quite a wonderful bunch. Your father used to be the palace gardener and in his spare time, he’d teach you all of his tricks on how to take care of flowers of all kinds. And since his retirement, you unsurprisingly took over.

Hearing the Queen’s praise warmed your heart.

“In fact, you have done so well that Telemachus would love to thank you with a quaint little dinner with him! A lovely exchange isn’t it?”

A dinner? With the prince? How sweet of him, perhaps he does like you a little bit. It doesn’t explain why he’s looking at Queen Penelope in disbelief like she just betrayed him.

Because she did.

He just said that he still couldn’t talk to her in coherent sentences.

And she sets him up with her, on a date, alone, just the two of them.

This is it, he couldn’t believe it.

His mother, his own mother, wants to kill him.

There was no other explanation as to why she would EVER suggest this.

Except if she wanted to actually kill him.

“Telemachus!”

Penelope called out to him, snapping him out of his daze. He fixes from looking at her back to you, with a genuine little smile at him.

“It’s settled then, yes? You will mar—I mean, dine with Y/n tonight correct?”

The boy managed to let out an awkward and voice-cracked “Yes’.

Penelope couldn’t hide her smile at the two as she put her hands on your shoulders.

“Wonderful, You’d be a delightful daughter-in-law!”

You quickly turn your head towards her, daughter-in-law. Is she ensuing…

Meanwhile, Telemachus was for sure about to give in on his own knees.

“I mean—oh well, we shall prepare for your upcoming date now. Come along Telemachus! We have much to discuss! As for you, Y/n, I shall have a tailor for your clothes shortly. We have a special dinner to prepare!”

Penelope moves with a quick pace, dragging Telemachus by his arm which was soon to break from her force.

“AH! Mom! I almost tripped!”

“One must endure slight pain when they are in love, my son.”

“I could’ve gone limp!”

“Same thing, Telemachus. Come along now! We have much to discuss.”

It was a bit confusing, but nonetheless, the exchange brought a sweet smile to your face.

Perhaps Telemachus is a sweetheart.

Sorry if it was a bit rushed, I wanted to work on other one-shots for a bit.

(Aka I'm writing a dark romance Antinous x Reader one-shot since that man has been in my head for so long now and I need to feed my delusions)

Don't expect a part 3 to this btw, I have other fics to write.

(Like the Antinous one, I swear please just let me get this one-shot out PLEASE)

Anyway, hope you liked this one.

-Fatal-thoughts

[welovelouisandbucky]

My two favorite Slytherin boys headcanons bc why not?

T/w: few swear words, my writing, and some out of character stuff because im delusional, little suggestive if you can call it that, and yes aside from that if you find any pls let me know:) also my writing

A/n: hi y'all, I just want to say pls be kind as this is my first time writing for these characters so if there's any mistakes pls overlook them thank you! Also I tried my best to keep this GN so everyone can read and enjoy this and yeah that's it, have great day!!!

S/n: requests are open so feel free to send in ideas, I'll love to write what you guys suggest. Also feel free to ask for more Slytherin or any Harry Potter characters you want headcanons/blurbs about, I'll love to write and add more🤗

Masterlist

Mattheo Riddle

(gifs credits to the rightful owner)

Also this one's long as you can see I got carried away😁

Mattheo who always looks forward to see your face after the end of the day

Mattheo who will fight any one who looks at you funny or talks shits about you

Mattheo who glares at every single person but the seconds he spots you his eyes softens up in millisecond in adoration

Mattheo who holds your books or bag everywhere you guys go, because God forbid if his princess/prince ever has to worry about those things when he's there to do them for you

Mattheo who waits after you when the class is over so he can walk you to other class while he pulls you as closer to him as possible

Mattheo who searches for you before every Quidditch game so he can have his good luck charm kiss from you

Mattheo who pretends to hate and act tough when you baby him while secretly melting into a puddle inside every time you call him sweet names. ( He absolutely loses his shit when you call him baby but shush it's a secret 😌)

Mattheo who has probably drawn you only few hundreds of times in his super, super duper, very classified sketchbook that no one knows of.

Mattheo who always encourages you to do things you want to do but are too scared to actually do it.

Mattheo who always supports your decisions, even if they are stupid

Mattheo who appropriates your little hobbies and interests even if they are weird, he just wants to you to feel safe and heard around him

Mattheo who's always there for you whenever you need him, always there to hold you close on bad days because he knows how it feels when you are at your worst and there's no one to comfort you (thankfully he doesn't have to worry about being alone now that you are here as well as his friends)

Mattheo who struggles with expressing his emotions and feelings but still tries his hardest to show them to you because he wants you to know how much you mean to him.

Mattheo who's not that good at comforting but still pulls you to him because he can't stand seeing you cry and not do anything about it.

Mattheo who willingly listens to you rant about everything and anything because he loves hearing your voice (even if half of the things you said are going above his head but hey at least he's trying! ☺️)

Mattheo who hates not knowing what's happening around him because it makes him feel helpless and he hates feeling weak. That's why he always, and I mean always knows what's going on everywhere

Mattheo who's touch starved (bc yk all that being dark Lord's son and growing up with death eaters and all) and craves your touch. He's always in any way touching you, whether holding hands, or a hand on your thigh or waist just any kind of physical touch because he wants to be as close to you as possible.

Mattheo who loves loves cuddles, doesn't matter who's spooning who as long as you guys are in each other's arms.

Mattheo who loves you so much that it physically hurts him, and there's nothing he wouldn't do you

Mattheo who will always protect you no matter what

~~~

Theodore Nott

Theo who loves to tease you throughout the whole day just so he can see you all worked up for him

Theo who looks forward to your quick comebacks every time he comments on something he knows he will get reaction out of you and absolutely loses his shit when you roast the shit out of him for it

Theo who calls you sweet endearments in Italian because he loves to see your confused smile, contemplating whether he roasted you or called you something sweet in foreign language

Theo who keeps you company while you finish your homework in library

Theo who loves spending time with you on Astronomy tower (he just in general loves spending time with you but astronomy tower is more special to him) while you are snuggled up against his side as you guys look at stars.

Theo who will read with you, doesn't matter what kind of books you guys are reading as long as both of you are together.

Theo who prefers reading classic novels but will happily read cheesy rom-com books with you because you said so (secretly he enjoys them too but hush🙈)

Theo who actually enjoys reading poetry, and sometimes when you guys are alone he'll read few to you

Theo who's always there to comfort you whenever you have problems with your family because he knows how it feels.

Theo who's always there to stand up for you in any situation

Theo who starts to smoke less around you if it bothers you, but if you smoke too then both of you guys will smoke together at the Astronomy tower

Theo who loves silence and doesn't enjoy talking much but is always ready to listen to you talk for hours, you are the only person he can talk and listen to for eternity without ever getting sick of it.

Theo who loves when you wear his clothes

Theo who said I love you first time when he saw you curse someone out because they said some shit about him, he doesn't really care whatever shit they were saying but seeing you stand up for him made him feel emotions he never felt before.

Theo who just absolutely loves you and wants to spend entirety of his life with you

Thank you so much for reading, likes and comments are very much appreciated. As well as positive criticism, pls don't hate this is a safe place for everyone!! Bye bye have great day!!!

~~~~

Enzo's headcanon!

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Ok but imagine 42! Miles with a s/o who's literally the complete opposite of him in terms of aesthetic but she helps him when he's the prowler. Like nobody would expect the sweet, energetic, girl with the "Mabel pines" energy to be the gal in the chair for the prowler and making his weapons and at the same time being his girlfriend. They're a literal force to be reckon with.

Complete opposites but totally work

(I love this and so sorry it took so long but enjoy!)

Mabel Pines!Reader

You guys work very, very well together

I can't even describe it very well but it's like yin and yang

He was absolutely gobsmacked on how smart you actually could be

Because not mean, he thought of you as a sort of airhead for a while

But he actually found it quite cute or adorable on you

But he did find out very quickly that y'all have very, very different aesthetics

To be frank you look like a rainbow threw up on you

While Miles is all gloomy and dark over there

So safe to say you throw some glitter in him and force him to be colorful

He finds it hard sometimes to keep up with your energy

But it good for him

His mama absolutely LOVES you

She sees how much Miles loves you just due to the light you bring into his eyes

You can give this man anything and he will pretend to not like it but raise hell if you try and take it back

You guys proudly watch the news of worried women and men on TV talking about jobs you guys pulled and tryna catch you guys

Y'know those sassy guys we see in Tiktoks?

He's that sassy guy with you when you make him mad or annoyed

Knees facing the other way with his whole body while he side eyes you

But he can't resist you for very long

He actually was quite shocked when he found out you had a little dark side

He always saw you looking on the bright side of things

So you partaking in his Prowler activities, much less MAKING the shit for them, absolutely shocked him

He found it quite hot though I can't lie

You're absolutely right when you're completely different but work so well together

Even Uncle Aaron saw it

He uses you sometimes as a little diversion

A fake damsel in distress might I say

He never actually puts you in danger a you can very much so handle yourself but he's always lurking around the corner in these situations

You are an absolute monster at anything Miles needs

New gloves? Done

New mask? Done

Fucking Ray gun? Why didn't he ask sooner? Here, it's in your bag

You absolutely stick little stickers on his crap as well

You can't help yourself

But he absolutely loves it

You sit in the chair looking all pretty but can turn intimidating real quick as he's sitting on the arm chair

Y'know those scenes where the bad guy asks their "dumb/weird" henchman like

"I have no idea…how about we ask (Name)?"

Those type of scenes and you can come up with the best shit he didn't even think of

Absolutely soul mates

Anyway, enjoy this little scene I made:

Miles breathed heavily, leaning against the wall on the rooftop to the door to go back down to his home. He was dressed as the Prowler, breathing labored from a fight.

Miles tried to breathe the best he could, even succeeding for a moment before his eyes snapped open as he heard the shudder of a phone camera and a flash.

Miles' eyes widened, hand in front of him as the flash died and he saw you standing there, blank faces and camera held out in front of you.

Miles and you stared at one another for a moment, nothing to say at all.

"Is that carbon fiber?" You suddenly spoke up.

"...what?-" Miles blinked, barely able to process this before you almost jumped on him.

"Ooh! How did you make this?!" Miles couldn't even breathe and before he knew, his helmet was in your hands as you went on.

"This material is tough enough but you know I could make a much better one if-" you rambles on, an excitement to your voice Miles knew all to well as you flipped over the mask in your hands

"Wait– hold on." Miles held his arms out, effectively causing a pause in your rant as you stared back at him.

"Y'know who I am…right?" Miles asked, slowly and almost trying to be intimidating.

"Um…the Prowler?" You muttered, utterly confused as you tilted your head, holding the helmet to your chest.

"Yeah?!" Miles exclaimed, eyes wide and hands held out like he was trying to get a point across.

"Mhm. Is this like…a trick question, or…?" You asked, completely unbothered by it all as you looked down at the mask, examining it as you merely glanced up at him.

"No! Just- why are you so calm about this?" Miles asked, shocked as well.

"Well, it's not really shocking. You sorta have the backstory of a villain, anyway." You shrugged, staring dead at him.

"...seriously?"

"Well, kinda. Sorry, is this like a bad time for you?" You asked, still not handing over the mask as you held it over your head, almost trying to put it on.

"No, just, you can't tell anyone about this." Miles said, grabbing the mask to hold it in place and off your head, almost dangerously close to your face.

"I mean, I'm not? But-" you started and Miles almost rolled his eyes at your excited expression.

"I can help you!" You stated, biting your lip in excitement as you almost glowed from the glitter on you.

"Help…me?" Miles raised a brow.

"Yeah! Everyone thinks I'm dumb, but I have dirt on everyone. Everyone. And, not a lotta people notice I'm there so I can get you a lot of info, or like- routes and stuff. I'm also good with my hands."

You went on proudly, Miles looking between you and your hand which held his helmet.

It took a moment, Miles going over it all in his head.

He finally sighed.

Miles opened the door to the stairwell, gesturing inside as your eyes widened in shock before you actually smiled, hurrying inside quickly as you rambled on.

Miles followed after you, a seemingly annoyed expression on his face, but the dust of pink across his cheeks from your smile gave him away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@mushystrawberries @sweetheartlizzie07 @itstooearly-its3am @Ihavetoexist @kaorussgf @samsketchezz @yas-v @lovelymiaablogss @sussybaka10 @shisuishoe @sairavity @moonlight-rosevine @spectr3inl0ve @najiiix @popeheywardssecretgf @onginlove @sylisan @onginlove

[in-som-niyah]

No thoughts just jason todd obsessed with the idea of his girl being pregnant with his baby

Like this man would def be so soft and doting and protective.

Also imaginning how soft sex would be between them at that point cuz he wouldn't want to disturb the baby too much

YESSSSSSSSS

Like if Jason ever felt secure enough to be a father given his ahem... ✨lifestyle✨ he would be sooooo protective of reader like

You were reaching for a jar up in the cupboard of your shared home (Jason waited until you were both settled into a proper home instead of the shitty apartment in Gotham before even thinking of getting you pregnant) before you felt a pair of heavy feet approach you. Before you could finish reaching, a strong hand planted itself at the side of your bump and gently moved you aside, stopping your movements. Annoyed, you look up at the owner of said hand, who had broken his promise of letting you do small things for yourself around the house again. "Jay, I can do it" you pout as you place your chin on his toned chest. Jason smiles down at you and chuckles lightly before using both his hands to rub at your bump. "I know you can princess, I just wanna help" He says back with an equally-adorable pout in his face. "But I told you, I can do things! I'm pregnant, not paralyzed." You chuckled. "It makes me feel useless to be honest" His brows proudly display their displeasure at your statement and his pout vanished. His hands make their way around to rub at your back now, where he knows you've been sore. "No baby, you're never useless. Hell, you could sit in bed all day and make me bring you all your cravings and you still wouldn't be useless." He says matter-of-factly. At this, he plants a kiss on the top of your hairline and rests his chin at the top of your head. "Yeah, but-" You tried to reply, but a cheeky kiss behind your ear stopped you. A gruff 'mmm-mmm' of disproval reverberates from Jason's chest, followed by another kiss on your cheek, then neck, then collar then...

I totally agree he would be into sex during pregnancy (you're so sexy carrying his child but he would be so scared to hurt you since you're so precious to him) especially if its soft and loving!!! Y'all he's a loverboy softie at heart and he just loves you so much and is so thankful that you trust him with raising a kid and caring for you in the process!!!!

I feel like he would avoid sex or sexual contact just to be safe and make sure you're not feeling pressured into being with him since your body is changing in ways truly neither of you really fully understand.

BUT GODDDDDDDD DOES IT DRIVE YOU UP THE WALL

Pregnancy hormones be damned, every flex of his bicep or stretch of his back made you want to climb. him. like. a. fucking. tree.

It was late one night, Jason didn't have patrol (thank the fucking heavens) but he was out running some errands. You were in bed, snuggled in your (his) t-shirt, catching up on some tiktok drama (iykyk) and scrolling through your fyp. Until you came across a gym video of a guy attempting to lift 230lbs. You vaguely remember Jason teasing Dick about how much they both could lift, and it was well over 230lbs, thats for sure. Oh, but Jason's much more muscular, and plus, he's tall. Very, very tall. He's built like an actual brick wall now that you think about it. A tall, muscular, strong, handsome, brick wall. Wetness began to pool at your core thinking about how strong and huge Jason was, and you thought of having a quick session before Jason got home. You knew you should wait for him, but he's been so occupied and distant and careful with you that you didn't have much confidence in his answer if you did in fact ask him to fuck you the way you wanted to be. Out of the locked section of the bottom drawer of your nightstand came a small, yet mighty wand vibrator. Lucky for you, Jason remembered to charge it the last time y'all had some fun. Which was sadly, a while ago. Too horny to dwell in the negative, you press and hold the power button and go to town. The task soon proved difficult since you had a large island of tummy in the way, but you managed to almost get there. Just a bit more pressure and- Thud. The sound of a large bag unceremoniously dropping to the floor ripped you out of your blissful activities. Eyes wide and frantic, you scan the room for anything that looked out of place. 'Maybe something fell?' you thought, but that was quickly put to bed when your gaze meets Jason's clenched jaw and disappointedly folded hands. You flinched when he swiftly crossed the room, forgetting whatever was in the bag at the door. There were more, very important things to attend to. Before you could open your mouth to even try and explain yourself he interjects in an eerily calm way. "Did you cum?" He asks, softly, but his authority is very clear in his tone. "N-no" You answer sheepishly. You were in no mood to try an explain why you felt the need to turn to the mediocre satisfaction of a toy when you had a whole ass sex machine as your husband if he so chose to question you. "hmm thats what I thought, querida." He finished with a nurturing yet pitiful tone. Jason climbs into bed, and crawls on top of you to where you're face to face and his chain is dangling just above your neck. "Just one question" He begins. "Why didn't you tell me you were feeling this way?" You chew your lip. He's been such an amazing husband to you before you got pregnant, and after he found out he upped his game some more. You didn't even know it was possible to be loved like that and you felt bad that you couldn't even control yourself long enough to just appreciate what he's already doing for you. A tear fell down your cheek, which Jason kissed away, and you told him how you felt guilty for asking him for sex, since the reason why he wasn't driving you into the bed was a sincere and honest fear he had. You knew he couldn't stand to hurt you, so he would much rather stop completely than take a chance. "my poor girl, I haven't been doing my part have I?" He murmurs just before capturing your lips in his. You melt into him, your hands flying up to touch him, hold him, feel him in places you haven't in so long. In between the marks on your neck and upper chest, Jason pauses briefly to apologize, as if your skin was cross with the lack of contact. "p-please" you whimper in a small voice when his hands begin to grip your hips firmly. "I know, I know amorcita. Let daddy make it up to u hm? I'll take care of you this time. Promise it'll be worth it."

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a/n: GODDDDD i wanna climb him like a tree holy shit this is so sexy

like the way hes so soft and gentle just makes me explode

best fucking ask bro tysm <333333

[storiesofsvu]

Love You Always

Rafael Barba x reader warnings: language maybe? it's pure fluff y'all. This was a request that I took a little bit of a spin on but the end result is the same and the prompt still fits and works lol Quick reminder: as Barba has over 50 ppl on his taglist and that is tumblr's max, if you do not interact with this/other barba post you will be removed for someone who is on the wait list who actually does want to read and interact.

When you’d made the move from a small town in Pennsylvania out to New York you really had no idea what was in store for you. Getting the opportunity to live in the city was a huge enough thrill on its own, delicious food, incredible night life, easy enough to get around and a plethora of places to meet people. Work was consistent, busy enough to keep you stimulated and making money but never overwhelming, you always had weekends off and were reminded you never had to take work home unless you really wanted to.

The level of freedom you felt was an incredibly good thing, especially considering your boyfriend seemed to never stop working. You were free to swing by on your lunch, making sure he ate something other than chocolate covered espresso beans and would happily be the one to drag him out of the office at the end of a long day. Though you had no complaints about the matter, you loved him no matter what and knew that what he did was important, not to mention incredibly admirable.

The two of you had moved in together a couple of years ago, a nice two bedroom apartment smack in the middle of your commutes. Rafael had turned the second bedroom into a home office but hadn’t completely taken it over, leaving half of it for you to outfit however you’d like. He never wanted it to just be his space, wanted to make sure you always felt welcomed and wanted even if the most you normally did was curl up with a book in the arm chair beside his desk. He utterly adored having you around, the quality time beside another human was more than enough for both of you, you were able to communicate without words by now. There were moments where Rafael wouldn’t even realize he’d been letting his work stress him out until your gentle hands were on his shoulders, massaging out the knots. There were other moments where you were so sucked into your novel you had no idea how much time had gone by until he was pressing a kiss to the top of your head, mentioning you’d both missed dinner.

There had been talks of the future of course, some of them happening before you bought the apartment, making sure you were making the right investment, but there had never really been a talk about marriage. You’d talked about where in the city you wanted to live, decided on kids or no kids, if you wanted to stay in the same career path, what you’d like to do after retiring and while you knew you were in each other’s stories, a ring never came up. You loved your romantic movies and Rafael knew that, often watching them with you, a small smile on his face as you tried to hide your happy tears or blamed your sniffling on allergies. He knew you were a hopeless romantic and did his best on a regular basis to show you how much he loved you, flowers, treats, fancy date nights and the like.

The first time marriage truly came up was when you were out for dinner and witnessed a very public proposal that you immediately turned your nose up at. Rafael raised a brow and you let out a small laugh, explaining that not only were they incredibly tacky, nearly forcing the person answering to say yes, but this one in particular was going to end in a fight once they were home. Never ask a question like that if you don’t know the definite answer. On the other end of the spectrum, the two of you had a fantastic date night and you were certain it ended better than the not so happy couple.

The second time it technically came up Rafael was coming home entirely too late and while you didn’t have particular plans, you had happened to fall asleep on the couch waiting for him. He felt a pang of guilt wash through him when he found you, half full glass of wine on the coffee table with an empty one meant for him. When he woke you up to get you to bed he apologized, promising that it wouldn’t happen again. You let out a soft giggle, still half asleep and mentioned something about it not being a problem, you knew you were his side chick, he was married to his job after all, it was his wife and you were okay with that.

The third time it came up when your cousin’s wedding invitation came in the mail and you asked if he wanted to come with you. He laughed, saying of course he did and pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, he was your plus one forever after all. You returned the laugh, letting him know it was back in Pennsylvania, it would be a minimum of a three day trip out there, you’d have to leave midday Friday and likely return late on Sunday, if not Monday. He simply shrugged, saying he’d make absolutely sure that his schedule was cleared, this was something that was important to you and he didn’t want to miss any of those.

Rafael had been expecting the usual wedding festivities, friends new and old reuniting between a couple of smaller hotels or bars around the town. Some whom had kept in touch, some who hadn’t spoken since graduation. There was plenty of catching up, questions asked and answered about careers, families, kids. He was prepared for all of that, prepared to whisk you away the second anyone started nagging a little too hard about getting married or starting a family of your own. Instead he was met with you laughing, winding your arm in his and saying that the two of you were your own family.

What he definitely wasn’t expecting was to be hit with a brick wall of emotions when the actual wedding started. Everything was so incredibly beautiful, the church lit up perfectly, stunning bridesmaids dresses that correlated with the groomsmen pocket squares, ties and socks. The flower arrangements were gorgeous, the music matched the vibe immaculately, every single detail you could imagine was well thought through and executed amazingly. His hand in yours as the ceremony started, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as the bride stepped into the room and he knew you would be teary eyed in a matter of seconds.

He couldn’t help but watch you throughout the ceremony, a small smile on his face, one that you caught and smiled back to every time you looked over at him. You loved love, and you loved him and that made him feel so incredibly warm inside, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Your eyes glistened in the sunlight, a glimmering of happy tears in them as the couple began their vows and it became very obvious you weren’t the only hopeless romantic in the room. They told stories of their childhood, how they’d been best friends at such a young age, how through time they had went their different ways but always seemed to find their way back to each other. How they’d gone to different colleges, lived on opposite sides of the country and even when they didn’t stay in touch, life had a way to keep their invisible string intact. How she’d been smitten from the moment they reconnected, how he surprised her on their first anniversary with a plot of land where she’d always dreamed of living, and how he was going to build their dream home. How much they meant to each other, that they wanted to spend the rest of their days and then some together, how much they believed in destiny and how thankful they were that they were brought back together and realized what true love was because it was so often sitting right in front of your nose.

Rafael didn’t think he was a sap, but the misting in his eyes would prove otherwise.

The way your hand was softly squeezing at his thigh whenever something particularly romantic or emotional certainly wasn’t helping either. And the look of complete love, awe, hope and longing reflecting from your eyes was enough to drive him wild. He found his heart beating faster in his chest, butterflies racing in his stomach, he wanted to be the one on the receiving end of that kind of a look. He was utterly lost in his romantic thoughts until the couple kissed, the church erupting in applause and you were tugging him to stand, cheering to celebrate their new union.

He managed to keep his cool throughout dinner, though he got a little misty eyed when the speeches started. Out of pure instinct you were cuddled into his side, the more intimate and loving the stories and speeches got, the closer the two of you got to each other. There was nothing either of you wanted than to be with each other and this celebration of love was solidifying it.

The two of you were up on the dance floor, encouraging your nieces and nephews to burn off all the sugar from the cake dancing around as wildly as they could before having to leave. A slow song started and you thought for a moment you were leaving the dance floor until Rafael grabbed your hand, a sparkle in his eye as he twirled you under his arm and then his other hand slid around your waist, leading you in a slow rhythm around the dance floor. A blooming of happiness started in your chest as your cheek rested next to his, small smile on both of your cheeks as you danced.

“You’ve been quiet,” you murmured, “not having any fun?”

“Quite the opposite.” He chuckled, his lips brushing your cheek.

“Then what’s going on in that brain of yours, hmm?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

“About?” You asked, your head coming to rest on his shoulder.

“You.” He replied, his hand rubbing at the small of your back, “love. This.” You felt his hand come off your back, gesturing to the room, “How beautiful it is. How beautiful you are. How happy I am with you, and that I want that kind of happiness forever. That I want this. With you.”

“Careful Rafael, this is starting to sound like a proposal.” You teased from your spot on his shoulder, feeling his chest rumble as he chuckled.

“Never. That would be incredibly inappropriate, I’m not one to steal someone’s moment.”

“Sure.” You laughed and he playfully rolled your eyes as you lifted your head up. The hand he had holding yours moved to cup your face as you stepped even closer together. His eyes gazed into yours with nothing but absolute adoration.

“But believe me when I say this, I’m going to marry you one day and one day soon.” His thumb brushed over your cheek and you felt a dopey smile take over your lips, “our own special day where I get to tell everyone just how much I love you, how I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, how you deserve the entire world and I got so incredibly lucky because you chose me.”

“And I would a million times over.” Leaning in you pressed your lips to his, a small sigh relaxing both of you into the kiss as you continued to sway. Your cheek came to rest against his once more, his hand briefly cupping the back of your head before moving back to your waist. “Because I love you Rafael, more than anyone in the world. I’m lucky to have you to love.”

“I love you too.”

He pressed a tender kiss to your temple, continuing to guide you around the dance floor until the song came to an end. For the third time today he found a misting of happy tears in his eyes, the same ones reflecting in yours except this time it was because of your own love, your own little secret that no one else in the room knew quite yet. That not only did you have a future together but he was going to be able to call you his wife, and that meant the entire world to him.

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