#i do a little stitching and a little cooking and I turn into a tiny housegoblin
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last forever [5/13]
Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.
Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)
Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on
Note: Only three hours late, that's not so bad haha. I had fun with this one, adding in how our couple met, I was going to do it as a flashback but I couldn't get it to work in my head how I wanted, so it's here differently. I'm a little mean to Reader at the end, or, well, Zoro is, but he has his reasons. Things will be okay, I promise.
[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4]
Honestly, at this point, you shouldn’t be surprised at Zoro’s tendency to get badly injured from his own stupidity at times. Little Garden ended up being more than just an island you all passed through, with giants and more Baroque Works agents, you’d even been caught by Mr. 3 and nearly turned into a wax statue, joining Nami and Vivi shouting at Zoro that he was being an idiot with his threats to cut his own legs off at the ankle to fight the agents there.
You were relieved when Luffy and Usopp showed up, stopping your husband from doing anything ridiculous. Once the four of you had been freed and Sanji showed up, explaining where in the hell he’d been, you grabbed onto Zoro’s shirt, making him look at you while you give him a blank stare.
“…what?”
“Sit down. You need stitches. Again.”
Rolling his eyes, Zoro does listen to you, sitting down nearby the rest of your friends as they discuss your next course of action and Dory and Broggy offer to help you all leave. Vivi comes over and watches you as you stitch up Zoro’s ankles, looking impressed by your quick work and how you don’t even look a bit squeamish about it.
You just shrug when she comments.
“I’ve gotten used to it. This guy’s an idiot—”
“Hey.”
“—so I’ve had to learn to fix him up.”
Vivi laughs a bit and nods, seeming to understand. Once you’ve finished and out your small kit away, you just give Zoro a smile when he quietly thanks you, before you walk back over to the rest of your crew. You hang close to Sanji and it again causes a strange ache in Zoro’s chest, he has to bite his lip to make it stop.
You’ve started spending so much more time with your cook, he should be happy about it, maybe you’re starting to have feelings for Sanji. Some of your free time is now spent in the kitchen, if Zoro walks by he hears you laughing most of the time. The weird feeling in his chest moves to his stomach when he hears you, he’s still not sure if it’s annoyance at you and Sanji getting close or jealousy at the situation.
Shaking his head, Zoro pushes the feelings away and goes to join you all to leave.
What the hell is wrong with me?
+!+
When Nami comes down with a strange illness after you leave, leading to your crew trying to find an island with a doctor, you all take your turns watching over and caring for her. You hope and pray you all reach an island and find a doctor quickly, you don’t want to lose one of your best friends. The boys freaking out about it doesn’t help at all, leaving you and Vivi to really care for Nami and try to help her get better. Every second her fever doesn’t go down scares you, it’s worse if it’s gone up even a tiny bit.
You know nothing about medicine, it’s something your mother thought was useless for you to know. All you needed to know was how to bandage yourself or your future kids up, that’s it. She really treated you like you were made of glass at times, you always wondered if that was due to how late in her life you’d been born. Whatever the reason, you’re happy to help Nami right now, to try and make her feel better.
When you and Vivi switch off one night, instead of heading to bed like you should, you choose to go up to the crow’s nest where Zoro’s taken the first watch of the night. You stopped in the kitchen before heading up to bring something to drink with you, grabbing a coat on the way since you’re in a colder area right now.
Once you make it up the ladder, you poke your head in and give Zoro a smile when he looks at you with a raised eyebrow.
“What?”
“Wanna share a drink?”
You aren’t surprised when he seems to light up briefly at the mention of sake, nodding you over to sit by him, handing over the bottle you’d gotten from Sanji while you made yourself comfortable beside Zoro. You’re still not used to the burn of alcohol but still take a big a drink when Zoro hands the bottle to you, passing it back to him. The only reason you started drinking was because Zoro had bet you to do so on your eighteenth birthday, promising you he’d give you money if you did it, so you took a few shots that were given to you, quickly regretting it when you threw it all up outside the tavern you two had been in. He may have lost the bet but at least he was nice enough to hold your hair back and get you to your hotel room without much trouble, and you did get your money a few days later.
“I meant to thank you for the other day.”
“Huh?”
“In Loguetown when we ran into Elias,” Zoro barely looks at you, but you pay him no mind, instead watching the light snow fall against the midnight sky, “For not telling him the truth about, you know, us.”
Shrugging, Zoro takes another swig of drink, before offering it back to you which you decline.
“Wasn’t any reason to tell him. Don’t need him telling your parents the truth.”
“He wouldn’t have, but I get what you mean.”
Zoro nods, partially believing you just from the one meeting with your brother and the things you’ve told him. You were a surprise to your parents, coming along when Elias was ten-years-old, your parents in their late thirties and not planning to have another child. Elias was enthralled with you once you were born, he’d protected you from everything, especially once you turned fifteen and your parents started to sift through possible suitors. According to you, he was pissed when your parents chose someone even older than him, promising he’d never leave you alone with the man and eventually helping you run away in the dead of night.
You two were close despite your age difference.
“You know,” you draw Zoro back to paying attention to you when you speak again, “Taking care of Nami reminds me of how you took care of me when we first met. Remember?”
Your smile as you ask makes him feel like his stomach is doing flips, it must be the alcohol doing that he thinks, but he still nods a bit.
How could he forget that?
You were unexpected to him too, running into a rundown bar so quickly you’d slammed into Zoro, making him grab your arms to keep you upright as you tried to apologize but your mouth felt like it was full of cotton, you don’t even know if actual words came out. You were burning up from a fever and passed out while Zoro kept you upright. The bar owner was nice enough to put you up in a room while you recovered, and he still isn’t sure why he did it, but Zoro took care of you the entire time. Johnny and Yosaku had been there at the same time, helping out by bringing any medicine they thought would help, getting a doctor to come check on you only to confirm you had pneumonia but that you’d be fine after a few more days of medicine and rest.
Once you were better, you were so grateful to the three men that you offered to give them whatever money you had on you, which they all rejected, you definitely needed it more. You kept the truth about why you were running into a bar in your state to yourself, eventually making an offer to Zoro only that you could travel with and help him, but he'd only agree to that if you beat him in a small sparring match, he’d noticed your sword right away.
Of course you lost, but you both had a great time, to the point Zoro let you tag along the last year and a half, he helped you improve your skills and you’re still so grateful to him for everything.
The second you shiver form the cold you’re about to go back down to sleep, before Zoro moves his arm to open the blanket around him and nod you over again.
Smiling again, you scoot over and sit right up beside him, practically flush against his side when he brings his arm back down around you. You’re both used to this, used to coming to each other for simple things like warmth or food, even with the rest of your crew. It’s leftover from when it was just the two of you.
Zoro doesn’t want this to go further past your friendship and being crewmates, not now. Neither of you can or should be thinking about romance, that’s Sanji’s job.
So why does he feel disappointed when you finally go down to the bunks?
+!+
After leaving Drum Island with Nami well and Chopper aboard as your doctor, you’ve started to have a tiny second shadow following you around. The reindeer taking a liking to you right away, starting to follow you around the ship after you’d given him the initial tour. He's started staying close to you and showing you how to make medicine and dress wounds, teaching you more than you ever could’ve imagined knowing.
Chopper has also started bringing you with him to nap with Zoro, your swordsman almost rejecting it at first, before Chopper pulls you to sit beside him while your doctor lays across Zoro’s lap. It makes you laugh as Zoro tries not to have any eye contact with you. Can’t let you see him being all soft and stuff about Chopper now.
You don’t say anything about it, especially once you all make it to Nanohana and do your shopping to find desert and heat safe outfits, though you feel like you’re going to suffocate at times, you’ll be glad to avoid a severe sunburn or heat stroke.
Then you all met Luffy’s big brother Ace.
You remember seeing him in the paper before back home, briefly, the thought in your mind that wow, he’s attractive but it’s not like you’d ever meet him.
The universe laughs at you constantly, you swear, especially when it seems like Ace starts to flirt with you as he joins you all for a bit on your journey to Erumalu. You feel like you have a never-ending blush on your face and it makes Ace laugh when you shove his arm after he says something to you about how shy you seem.
“You’re so cute! I can’t believe you’re on my brother’s crew!”
“Stoooop, you’re making me blush even more!”
You do laugh alongside Ace, he’s easy to be around. Comfortable and almost familiar, you’d say. It reminds you of time spent with Elias, though, without the flirty comments. Ace throws an arm around your shoulders, trying to keep his voice down even though your crewmates are all over the place at this point either partying or sleeping nearby, in Zoro’s case.
“So, you got someone special to you or do I have a chance?”
You hum, pretending to think before giving Ace a smile after you take a sip of your fancy drink Sanji made for you girls.
“Sorry, I got my eyes on someone else.”
“A shot to the heart!” Ace throws his head back as you laugh, double checking that Zoro’s still asleep in case Ace asks you for details, “Just don’t say it’s Luffy, I couldn’t handle losing out to my brother.”
“No, no,” Shaking your head, you watch Ace as he seems to perk back up knowing it’s not your captain you’ve got the hots for, “Definitely not Luffy.”
“Is it a secret then? Promise I won’t tell nobody.”
Ace leans on close to you, your face still warm from either the sun or your blushing you aren’t sure, but the few glances you take towards Zoro tell him the answer, making him grin.
“Ooh him huh? Yeah, I can see it.”
“S-See what??”
“You guys, together. Does he not like you back?”
You wish you hadn’t been so obvious, but you shrug a bit, shake your head, then groan and hide your face behind your drink.
“I…don’t know…he’s not really the romance type.”
Nodding a little, Ace keeps his arm around you and pulls away just a bit, he’s probably making you more nervous that you already were by being so close to your face. He hasn’t known you for more than a day at this point, but he’s been able to see you and Zoro seemingly drawn to each other most of the time, or Chopper does it for shade or to be carried by one of you because of the heat.
Maybe your face is warn more from a blush than from the sun after all.
“I bet he’ll come around. You’re cute, he’d be lucky to have you.”
You almost drop your glass at that.
When Ace leaves you all the next morning, you feel sad at the fact he’s going on his own again, but when Luffy says you’ll all see him again, you agree with a smile. Zoro watches you, wondering how you’d gotten so close to Ace in such a short time, but he realizes that’s just you.
Despite your past with your parents, you trust far too easily at times. Granted, Ace is a good guy, but Zoro worried that it’s going to get you, all of you, into trouble one day.
Though, it’s more likely to be because of Luffy than you.
+!+
Alabasta is finally free from Crocodile a few days later, thanks to your crew and Vivi’s work. You’ve all been granted stay at the palace to recuperate, all of you sustaining major injuries though some were starting to heal faster than others. Luffy spent a couple days sleeping but was now up and ready to party as Alabasta celebrated their freedom.
Your worry for Zoro at the time had kept you attached to his side for the most part, latching onto his arm enough that he’d gone from flinching at the contact to quietly removing your hands from him, he doesn’t want you that attached to him, you get it, kind of.
It still hurts when he does it, Sanji sees it on your face more than anyone else. Zoro had protected you at points during the attacks going on, until you all separated to battle different members of Baroque Works, you ending up trying to stop several of the fights between Alabastan army members and the rebel forces, a few of them not taking that kindly and turning their weapons towards you. Most of your wounds were stabbings or slashes, a deep one on your abdomen that Chopper fixed up no problem.
After you’ve all healed enough to join in the celebrations, that’s just what you do, even with the Navy around. Sanji drags you along to dance with him, trying to keep you distracted from Zoro, though you gravitate towards him anyway. It’s like in Cocoyashi, you just lean against the wall Zoro’s placed himself at, giving a smile while you talk to him, brushing your arm against his whether by accident or on purpose. You’ve brought him another drink too, it makes Sanji scrunch his face in annoyance, only because it seems like Zoro just doesn’t care, like he’s that oblivious to your crush on him.
And maybe he is, the blond isn’t sure, even when you look a bit dejected and return to his side for a just moment, to tell him you’re going back to the palace to up to rest for a bit. You’ve gotten tired from the party and need a few minutes. Sanji promises to come get you after a little while, which you thank him for as you leave.
He has a half a mind to tell Zoro to go with you, but by the time he looks back, the swordsman is gone.
+!+
“Why are you up here?”
You hum a but, turning and giving Zoro a smile. Yes it was late, normally you'd be asleep, but Alabasta was still awake, having a party to celebrate the end of the their war and the rain returning to the country. You had chosen to return to the palace, watching your crewmates outside the window. Luffy and Usopp were celebrating in disguises to keep the Navy off your tails, Nami was laughing with Vivi, Chopper and Karoo nearby asleep, and you haven't seen Sanji or even Zoro until now, when your favorite swordsman found you.
“Just…wanted to rest a bit.”
Understanding, Zoro nods a bit, leaning against the wall beside you, arms crossed over his chest while he watches you.
You know that he heard you talking to Ace when he was with you all, telling him you've developed feelings for your legal husband. Honestly he's had his suspicions for a while, mainly after you all left Drum Island and you acted so odd at times, but he never wanted to confront you about it before.
It was harmless, a crush didn't mean you really believed the two of you would be a couple or anything. Despite your actually being married, since it wasn't meant to last forever, he figured he'd leave you be and maybe your feelings would fade over time. You spent a lot of time with Sanji, Zoro fully expects at one point for you to bring the annulment papers to him, saying you liked the blond or that your parents finally responded to you.
Neither of those have happened, and seeing your constant smiles and little blushes at him, Zoro feels the need to say something about it.
"Listen."
Zoro sounds so serious you can't help but sit up straighter, keeping your gaze on the still partying city outside the palace, but you nod to let him know you're listening.
"Whatever…this is between us," he's staring right at you, but you don't dare to look at him, knowing what he's going to say, "it's not going any further than our being crewmates. Whatever feelings you may have, I'm not returning them any time soon. We need to focus on our goals and helping Luffy, not romance. Got it?"
Despite the ache in your chest at that, you nod, the softest agreement coming out of your mouth in return. You knew this was coming, from the way Zoro started to distance from you after your time on Drum Island and the recent events in Alabasta, you could tell something was up and you guess this was it. Zoro was trying to put a stop to your feelings for him, he couldn't be caught playing romance with you right now, maybe never.
Of course, even with your half-hearted agreement, you know feelings can't be squashed so easily. You don't want to stop them, but Zoro wants you to so you can focus on your goals. You weren't going to become a world renowned swordswoman if you were busy focusing on a relationship with someone. Zoro would never become the greatest swordsman in the world if he was focused on you.
When he finally leaves you alone, you can't help yourself and the quietest tears start. You knew this was going to happen, Zoro doesn't like you back, he’s only still married to you because you haven't heard a thing from your parents, but damn it still hurts to basically get a rejection like this.
It feels worse when Sanji comes into the room a few minutes later, having kept his promise on bringing you back down to the party with him, and he knows you've been crying without having to see your face. He wants to go after and curse out Zoro for making you cry, whatever the reason, but chooses to quietly pull you into a hug instead, telling you that you don't have to say anything, but he's here for you.
Honestly, having Sanji around, someone who was willing to listen to you and just let you cry over something that felt stupid at the time, you felt like things would be okay after some time.
Even when he says he'll kill Zoro for making you cry once you tell him why.
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freshly baked bread and headscarves and watercolor paints and dried bunches of lavender and baby animals and farmer’s markets and statues of female saints and embroidery and prairie dresses and backyard picnics but not in a tradwife way, in a gay way
#i am a simple sapphic#i do a little stitching and a little cooking and I turn into a tiny housegoblin#simple living#slow living#cottagecore#cottagecore aesthetic#anti hustle culture#soft living#divine feminine#queer cottagecore#queer history#thoughts
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Simon discovers something unexpected:
Light on masterlist
Simon Riley/female reader (single mom)
The first time Simon meets you, it’s on the rooftop of the apartment building in the middle of the morning.
He’s up here for a smoke, his first in hours, his body anxiously craving the nicotine after sitting on a cramped train for too long after the final debrief. His muscles are sore, stitches in his leg bothering him, mind is exhausted, and all he wants to do is smoke a cigarette and then collapse on the bed inside the flat that he hasn’t seen for months.
When he gets to the roof, after climbing four flights of stairs because the bloody elevator is broken, he’s greeted with two surprises. One, there is a garden up here now, multiple raised beds enclosed in sturdy two by sixes, and two… you are kneeling on the brick between them.
You’re on your knees, digging around, dirt smudged on your clothes, purple garden gloves caked with soil. You’re talking aloud too, rooting around in the plants and singing out names of vegetables and their corresponding colors, occasional pulling something green loose and stuffing it in a bag. He glances around the roof, confused, but sees no one but you, your voice carrying on the wind to where he stands by the clunky metal door.
When he gets closer, he realizes you’re not talking to yourself at all, but to a baby. A tiny baby tucked into a carrier, who’s eyes are wide and somewhat tracking your hand movements while you point to things in the garden bed, in the sky, on the ground.
“And this is a parsnip.” You say, brushing some rust-colored earth from the root and turning it in your hand. “They’re not very tasty raw but aren’t terrible cooked.” The baby watches you in awe, little feet and arms kicking and swinging while you smile and nod at them, like you think they understand anything you’ve just said. “Yeah! A parsnip!” You’re smiling, your face is bloody radiant as you nod down to the baby, one of your hands rubbing dirt from your skin onto your pants before you’re reaching out to grab a cloth from the baby’s lap and mopping up something on their chin. The action causes you to shift, your head turning enough to catch him in your peripherals, body tensing like you’ve been frozen, shoulders raising under your ears before you loosen and relax, squinting up at him in the sun. “Hi.” You blink, glancing back down to the carrier. “I uh, didn’t realize anyone else was up here.” He swallows, trying to give you a response, brain fracturing at the seam as it frantically attempts to recall words, civilian words like hello, or hi, or sorry. It’s difficult, because he’s a little distracted by how the light refracting in your eyes, the way it’s shining on your skin and hair, bathing you in the early morning glow like you’re some sort of angel. He’s still a few feet away, but he thinks he can see entire universes in your irises, every color ever imagined shimmering in the rays of the sun.
His brain finally catches up, and his mouth thankfully remembers how to form words.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you.” He’s polite and you shrug, nodding to your little companion.
“You’re not disturbing us. We were just harvesting some vegetables.” You smile brightly, casually stripping off the gloves while you rock up from your knees into a standing position. If the mask bothers you, you don’t outwardly show it, and your posture is relaxed when stand in front of him. “Isn’t that right, Emmaline?” You coo down to the baby, who wiggles in her carrier as a response, face lighting up at the sound of your voice, or her name. He’s not sure. Do you live here? Are you… her mum? The babysitter? Who are you?
You give him a once over, briefly, and he watches your smile shift from genuine to forced when your eyes land on his hands. The smokes. He’s holding a pack of cigarettes in one hand, and you clear your throat, brushing some dirt off the front of your clothes. “We were actually just finishing up.” You bend at the waist to pull the carrier into the crook of your elbow, supporting its weight with your hip, and slide the handles of the bag full of green things onto your opposite shoulder. “Roof’s all yours.” He feels a pang of regret, like he doesn’t want you to go, the sentiment unnatural to him, unsettling. You obviously live in the building, he thinks. But where? Do you lug that carrier up and down the steps all the time, just to get up here? He frowns.
“I can wait.” He tries to stop you, guilt running thick in his veins, and you shake your head.
“It’s lunchtime anyway.” You incline your head to little Emmaline, who’s face is growing a little scrunchy, like she’s upset, and he swallows.
“Alright, then.” You give him another nod, and head off towards the door. He grits his teeth, fingers tensing around the thin carboard in his hand, the little box holding his salvation safely in its grasp, but his eyes slide to where you walk away, and he can’t help but notice the way the carrier lightly bumps against your hips as they sway. Bloody hell.
#peaches writes#light on#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#female reader#give this man a baby#please
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"You came here just to give me this?" you asked, smiling as Daryl set down the little bouquet of purple asters on the table beside your bed. They were tied in a small bit of twine and you felt yourself flushing. You already saved my life and brought me into this—" you glanced around the clinic and then out the window at the neat row of houses across the street. "—rather miraculous place. Plus, I'm sort of gathering that you're a big deal around here, though you won't admit it. But I'm sure you have better things to be doing than bringing me flowers."
Daryl shifted nervously, wringing his hands a little, and ducked his head. "Nah. We're all equal 'round here. Ain't no such thing as bein' a big deal, specially not me. S'part of what makes this place work. And—" he shrugged, "—I just wanted to check on ya, see how you're feelin'."
You smiled at him, even though it tugged on the stitches in your face. "Better. Thanks. Denise gave me some of the good painkillers for my head so... don't believe anything I say right now," you joked.
Daryl let out a small amused exhale and the corners of his mouth tugged upwards.
"Wow. Hey. That was almost a laugh," you said, grinning at him.
Daryl shook his head and scratched nervously at a non-existent itch. "Well, I—better go."
"See. I knew you were a big deal around here. More important things to do," you said, settling back against your pillow and glancing again at the flowers he'd brought. The sudden image of this big, strong, rather stoic man searching out and picking those tiny flowers for you suddenly rushed forward and you bit your bottom lip.
"No—ya just—ya should rest, ya know? Yer—ya need rest. Gotta heal up."
"Daryl, I'm not gonna drop dead if you stay for more than 5 minutes."
He waved you off, rolling his eyes and then paused, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment. "Uhh—I could—come by again later?" he hesitated. "Could I?"
Your eyebrows lifted. "Are you asking?"
He shrugged. "I dunno... kinda... I just—if ya'd rather I didn't—"
You were beaming at him. "Shut up. Come by later. Please. Whenever you have time."
Daryl nodded, suddenly losing all his nerve, and he avoided your gaze and turned to leave before glancing back. "Oh—uhh, I'll bring by somethin' for ya to eat later, too. Just—so dun have dinner, alright? Denise, she's—she's a great doctor but she can't cook for shit... nothin' anybody but Dog can stomach anyway."
"Alright," you laughed. "Then—it's a dinner date."
Daryl nearly tripped over his own feet getting to the door. He felt like a man who'd just successfully robbed a bank...
#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon twd#the walking dead#twd fanfics#daryl dixon drabbles#daryl imagines#daryl x y/n#fanfics#writers of tumblr#twd drabbles
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Steddie Modern AU: TikTok
Steve would absolutely be that guy who would not understand TikTok. He and Eddie are older by the time it comes out, and most of the content there is of young kids going completely buck wild. Steve of course disapproves, hands on his hips, huffing about no supervision these days even though he was absolutely a terror in high school.
Eddie, rock star that he is, gets it to an extent. "They're expressing themselves!" he'd say.
Steve would only shake his phone around and point aggressively to a video playing on loop of a young man dancing along to some new trendy song, trying his hardest to seem cool and popular. "This isn't expression," he'd say, mother hen voice at top volume. "This is them trying to peacock to the world!"
"You did that once, too, Stevie."
"Yeah, and I was a little shit!"
And so Steve, in an effort to curb the young teenage population and keep them from making his mistakes (mostly due to parental neglect and hopeless, crushing self deprivation), would start his own TikTok channel.
"Hey there," he says into the camera, because for all the pride around his good looks, he has zero clue how to record a video of himself. "My names Steve, and I've been noticing a bunch of you on here who are out of control! Listen to me, alright? You need to dial it back. All that shit in high school is completely null and void when you're an adult. Trust me. From a former popular asshole, there's better shit you could be doing. Now let me show you how to scramble an egg."
His videos mostly consist of simple lessons. Giving out little pieces of advice. Teaching them basic life skills he had to learn on his own. How to cook. How to clean. How to iron a polo shirt. How to style your hair. How to do laundry. How to do basic first aid.
He often becomes transparent, telling them about his own childhood.
Sometimes he brings Eddie into his videos.
"This is my husband's favorite," he says, by way of explanation as he shows TikTok how to make pasta sauce from scratch. "He used to eat spaghetti out of a can. A fucking can!"
Despite his posturing on stage, Eddie becomes shy whenever a camera is in his face, and ducks his head away, smiling quietly towards the camera. "It's not that bad," he says.
"Not that- The sodium in that could kill an elephant!" Steve laughs.
"Yeah, well... I don't want you doing too much for me."
"I like doing things for you."
Eddie flushes and ducks his head, hiding his face away behind a curtain of curls.
Steve leans over a kisses his temple, pushing him gently out of frame where he'll be more comfortable, before turning back to the camera. "Anyway, this recipe is great if you're on your own for long periods of time. Especially because you can freeze some for later. Now the trick here is garlic. Let me show you how to peel it without making a huge mess!"
It's a month later where Dustin shows up at their door and shoves his phone into Steve's face. "Why the fuck," he'd snap, "are you trending?"
It turns out, the tiny community that Steve had been lecturing to wasn't as small as he originally thought.
There are so many kids out there desperate for parental affection, and they look to Steve, feeding off his pride, his kindness, his stories, his advice. Not only that but the fact that they get to see a former bully, a former popular kid, a man who grew up from neglect, become someone happy and married?
That's just... so wonderful.
"I've been on TikTok from the beginning and I only have, like, two thousand followers."
"So what? I don't have that many."
"You've got three million, Steve," said Dustin. Steve was not expecting that, squinting at the phone screen in his face. "Three fucking million! People are stitching your videos saying you guys are their new dads," Dustin squawked. "How did you not know you were this popular!?"
"I didn't know how to check my follower count!" Steve said, sincerely. It wasn't like he actually checked the thing! He just enjoyed making videos.
"You're so old."
"Hey," said Eddie from the kitchen, "don't talk about your mother that way."
"Yeah!" agreed Steve. "Don't talk to me that way! Now get into my next video so I can introduce you to your three million siblings."
And that is why I firmly believe that, if given the chance, Steve (and subsequently, Eddie) would absolutely become the internet's favorite parental figure(s).
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╰┈➤ ꒰🍓💌🥛 ┊boba time ┊ Hana ꒱
Having a baby & Everything that comes with that. Katsuki loves you, adult diaper and all. unedited as always.
Your daughter comes out with a head full of curls. No doubt from somewhere in your gene pool. She’s tiny, with chubby cheeks and her fathers eyes.
Her little feet kick and squirm, fists balled, as she cries. Katsuki stands beside you with soft eyes and a clenched jaw, fingers slowly making their way to the pair of you. He’s hesitant but you take your time looking at him with awe-struck eyes. You see his chest shake and give him a slow kiss to the lips, whispering “we’re okay, it’s okay baby” and he breathes in deep.
Katsuki steadies himself after that, speaking to nurses about every little thing they do, and he orders you food.
She lays against your chest, hic’ng here and there as the nurses prepare you to deliver the placenta. She’s been cleaned, swaddled and is learning to breast feed. A challenge, but one you’re willing to take on.
When you hand her to Katsuki, he shakes. His voice quivers and he blinks rapidly.
“Hey little one, shhh..” he soothes, finger coming to touch the tip of her nose.
She smacks her lips together and returns sleeping.
Delivering the placenta is not fun, in any capacity. You grip Katsuki with hell fire in your eyes and he murmurs encouragement. The baby lays against his chest, finding comfort in the warmth of her fathers love.
-
Katsuki has known love. He has been well acquainted with hate, jealousy, envy, discouragement, joy, pride- and the list goes on. But never in his life has he felt so terrified.
You sway in the kitchen, humming, with your little one. She giggles at a face you make and you turn towards him with a wide grin.
Passing through the room, your fingers wrap under the babies arms, one hand coming to support the back of her neck. Your face nuzzles to her own and you give her to him.
“Hana~ baby girl, what are you giggling about ?” He teases smile settling on his cheeks.
She giggles again in response, mouth open, and he bounces her. She yawns, tiny hands coming to rub at her face. Beautiful tiny red blink slowly, taking in her fathers image. With one swift movement, he props her on his peck and forearm, kissing her forehead. She’s slowly falling asleep, ready for her umpteenth nap.
Katsuki walks through the beautiful living room and to the kitchen to assist. You turn on your heel and give him a kiss on the cheek.
“I knew you’d be a good dad, fuckin’ natural.” You comment, one last kiss on the lips.
You adjust the uncomfortable pump against your boob, grateful it can be used without holding it much. But fuck, no one told you it would hurt. Turning back to your task- throwing in seasonings into the pot, you smile.
Katsuki’s free hand comes down to smack your ass, gripping the flesh. He feels the padding of the adult diaper you’re wearing and makes no comment, still satisfied.
Your face heats and you scowl until you notice it had no effect on him. The consequences of labor are still causing major changes to your day to day. Your cooking isn’t the same, relying on premade food you’d stored in your freezer for this.
Sex isn’t possible, with stitches from tearing. Not to mention how horribly bad it hurts to pee. You have to use a peri bottle every time you go to the bathroom.
At first it was embarrassing, seeing katsuki’s face when you explained that yes you’ll need stool softener and adult diapers. But a lot of that faded when he’d come home one night with a haul.
For Katsuki, it was a no brainer. You were the love of his life and he would love you in every life after. Terrifying, he thinks.
He thinks the him in the past would have scowled, making angry comments about how stupid it was to need those things. He probably would have made fun of you, just a little bit.
But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Something about the way your eyes flicked to the side, as if worried he wouldn’t love you anymore. It made his chest ache, sink , to the deep ocean floors.
He’d stayed up that night, while you laid on his chest. He scrolled through every article, guide, how to, and YouTube video he could find. In the morning his mother woke to a couple texts requesting details.
There was nothing more beautiful than the relief on your face when he walked in. His arms hurt from carrying all of the bags, plastic digging into them and cutting off circulation for a moment.
You had opened them that day and kissed him so hard he thought you’d knock the breath out of him.
Pads, liners, adult diapers, aloe, cooling spray, perri bottles, heating pads- it was all there. He even took the time to find post partum specific vitamins.
After that, your embarrassment hardly made a peep. Even when he’d felt the padding of it beneath your night gown.
“Gimme a kiss, sexy” He rumbles, bringing your lips to his.
The two of you take your time, drowning in one another. Something about him calling you sexy, despite you looking like a train wreck, makes you want to jump his bones.
Your baby has other plans, however.
Little Hana wakes with a fit, screaming to the top of her lungs. The two of you stare at her for a moment and he flinches at first.
“She’s hungry, I think, go to the couch baby I’ll finish the rest.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
The baby is placed in your arms after a quick “shh” and some bounces. The blonde, tall and thick, stretches his back and presses the “bake” option on the stove top.
Your heart soars. As soon as you aren’t confined to peri bottles and adult diapers, you’re going to fuck him until he can’t go anymore.
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I don’t know if you’ve done something like this before..but could maybe write about a time where reader took care of zoro and then one where he took care of you??
Thank you!!!
Absolutely I can do that for you!! Idk abt anyone else but the softness of taking care of someone when they're sick/hurt,,oof
[Heads up!: fluff, tiny bit of angst, Zoro being Zoro, mention of injuries, mention of being sick]
"Hold still."
Zoro tries to do as you ask, though the tickle of thread pulled through his skin makes him twitch, and he grunts when you swat at his upper arm. "What was that for?"
"I said hold still!"
"I'm trying, damn it!" Zoro huffs, brow furrowed as he does his best not to move any further. "Don't understand why you're the one doin' this anyways."
"Because Chopper is busy taking care of Luffy and Sanji," you explain, holding the black thread taut and snipping it. "And you were already injured, but you popped your stitches." You pause. "Would you rather I let you bleed to death?"
"Guess not."
You pause, raising an eyebrow. "You guess? That's not much of an answer, Zoro." Your expression softens. "Try not to get torn up too many times, okay? I worry about you."
"Don't have to," Zoro grumbles, then studies your handiwork of neat stitches rather the bleeding, ragged mess it'd been when he popped them. "Thanks, I guess."
"No problem." He listens to the click of the first aid kit, the shadow that falls over him as you stand. "Guess I owe you one."
"Not at all." You know he'll probably want to take a nap, and you prepare to take your leave before you glance at him. "We're crewmates, Zoro. We look out for each other."
"Yeah, fair point."
You watch as he leans back, mindful of the fold of his arms behind him as he closes his eyes. You wish you could do as he does, though you understand why he has the knack for sleeping anywhere.
Still, you smile. "Sleep well, Zoro."
ㅡ
You're burning up.
It'd been bad luck to get caught in a bout of nasty weather, the sudden switch from bright and sunny to cold and rainy coming with very little warning, even with Nami's skills.
You'd been busy making sure that the Sunny wasn't battered too badly by the swell of waves and fixing things that'd been shifted with the violent rocking to change clothes ㅡ and now you're paying for it.
Though Chopper had diagnosed it as nothing to be too worried about, Zoro still doesn't like the flush to your cheeks and heat that radiates from your forehead, your breathing strained and uneven.
So he takes it upon himself to keep an eye on you. If anyone asks, it's because his normal spots to nap have lost their appeal at the moment ㅡ but if the look Robin gives him is any indication, she at least knows there's more to it.
Zoro is far from a perfect caretaker, but he tries. He soaks a rag in cold water, squeezes it, then settles it on your forehead, hoping to bring your fever down. When it dries out, he repeats the process.
You drift in and out of fevered sleep, and he listens to the little mumbles ㅡ often of your crewmates, including him. He wonders what you're dreaming about that includes him ㅡ and if it's good.
He highly doubts that it's much in part to him, but he's still pleased when you finally wake enough to want food ㅡ and he goes to get it for you before you can protest.
"Don't need you gettin' everyone else sick," he tells you when he returns with a bowl of soup. (He hadn't even threatened to chuck it at Sanji, who'd been surprised at the lack of verbal barb from the swordsman.)
"What about you?"
He scoffs. "I don't get sick."
The look you give him says you're far from believing that, but you turn your attention to the soup instead. Managing to get at least half of it down, you let Zoro finish the rest of it. (Much as he hates that stupid cook, he does make good food.)
"Thank-you for looking after me." Zoro watches as you sink back down into the heavy mess of blankets, likes to think that there's a little more healthy color to your face.
"Yeah, yeah." He looks away. "It's like you said. We're crewmates, we gotta look out for each other." You stare at him, and he huffs. "Right?"
Your expression softens. "Right."
(You get better after another day or two. And when Zoro does actually catch what you had, you're the one who offers to take care of him.)
#ㅡmine.#one piece scenario#one piece x reader#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro x reader#ㅡanswered.#anonymous#–ml: zoro.
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Rise tmnt request; platonic hc of mom figure female reader who's taking care of her teenage turtle kids; how she's enjoying cooking with mikey and attend his dr. Feelings sessions, how she sew for raph many dolls and teddy bears with different colors (she hate ghost bear for hurting her baby), how she used to put donnie and leo in get together shirts whenever they start chaos.
But her favorite activity; gathering embarrassing pictures, videos of the turtles's childhood and show it to everyone, like if she ever were kidnapped by big mama they would spend a lovely time talking about the turtles when they were kids (the mad dogs try to save their mom faster before their secrets get exposed😂)
Mother Dearest ⭐️ Rise!Turtles HCs
A/N: *throws unlimited affection at you* How in the world did you manage to give me so many heart clenching, tooth aching, fluff filled requests?? Please take my hand in platonic marriage, we do not deserve you. I almost enjoy these parental requests as much as I enjoy angst. Almost.
Pairing(s): Mother Figure!Reader & Turtles
Warning(s): FLUFF, may make you cry from wholesomeness
Proof read :)
The boys are, well, your boys. You don't make the rules. The turtles are your babies.
Do you spoil them? Yes. Will you ever stop spoiling them? Of course not.
You do everything in your power to keep your kids happy, no matter the cost, even if it's the tiniest of things that make their faces light up like fireworks.
Mikey, oh sweet baby angel, you could never say no to him, why would you even consider that in the first place?
You and him make the most mouth watering dishes the universe has ever seen, and you always give the credit to Mikey despite how he tries to wave it off and reflect it back towards you.
When the two of you are in the kitchen, it's like watching art come to life. When one of the other boys enter the room, they sometimes have to stop and gaze in amazement at the two of you, hypnotised by the way you both work so effortlessly around each other.
You always try and give Mikey little tips to push his dishes towards perfection, and he always does the same to you when you find yourself making something you haven't even heard of before.
You and Mikey are the dream team when it comes to the kitchen, no one could even compare.
Watching his face turn darker from your praises as you all dig into his meals, it just makes you so giddy to see him so happy.
When it comes around to it, you definitely attend his Dr Feelings sessions! You're there to listen and take in whatever your youngest son has to offer, your face serious the whole time he reads through his clipboard or points towards the projectors screen.
Raph was also one of the most spoilt of the four, though you tried to make sure to evenly give the others gifts.
After many nights of learning how to sew and stitch (while getting many pricks and pokes at the same time) you had learnt how to craft the most adorable plushies, dolls and teddy bears Raph had ever seen.
Or maybe it was the thought behind them that made him love them more than any other plushies he had. He would just guess it was both.
The first time you had rushed into the lair with a plastic bag swinging at your side, Raph had thrown you so many worried questions. "What happened? What's in the bag? Did Donnie make you steal from the museum again-?"
Like I said, you'd do anything to make your boys happy.
When you tore open the bag to show him your hard work, he gasped so loudly, tiny stars in his eyes.
He couldn't pick a favourite! Of course the red bear was one of them, with it having a red bandana around its neck and tiny roses dotted around its body, the blue one was also adorable-oh, the yellow one too- a pink one?
The more he looked around in the bag, the more colours he saw.
And then he caught a glance at your bandaid covered hands, which instantly activated his own 'mother bear' instincts. heh.
"You didn't have to make me anything, you hurt yourself doin' it!"
"Raph, sweetie, I'm fine! The look on your face was enough to heal any injury."
He melts, which makes you melt.
You helped him organise his room, placing the plushies on his bed, making sure each one got enough love and care. You didn't want any of them feeling left out!
And oh, don't even get started on Ghost Bear. You hear one mention of him and you're shaking your head, biting your tongue from cursing him out for even thinking of hurting your baby boy.
"That guy has no right being idolised by the great Raphael! If I ever get my hands on that no good-"
Mikey has to drag you away after that, hand covering your mouth to prevent some not very nice words from slipping out.
You knew how much Donnie needed to hear any sort of praises from a parental figure, and you were there to give it and more. He was desperate, and you didn't blame him.
You spend a lot of your free time in his lab, even when he has his music blaring loudly. You got use to it after so long.
He doesn't say it, but he really enjoys your presence. You two don't have to speak, all he needs to know is that you're there for him while he tinkers away.
He shows you something new and most likely dangerous?
"Holy cow, that's amazing! You're amazing! How did you even make that?"
Cue him flapping his hands around wildly before diving into a deep explanation about it that you don't understand at all, but you nod along and smile as he talks away.
You also offer to help collect materials with him! Bonding! He never turns you down, even when he's in a bad mood thanks to Leo's pestering.
You let him get his frustration out to you, happy to listen to him rant and just be that shoulder for him. If he wants you to give him advice or feedback, you will. But most of the time you let him just get everything out in the air.
Talking about Leo, hoo boy.
Chaos. Always chaos.
There's rarely a time to relax around that boy, he is such a handful.
"Leo, leave Donnie alone before he pulls out a flamethrower or something."
"Leo! How can you make the most fanciest looking sandwiches I've ever seen, but manage to burn toast? And why is the toaster on fire?!"
"Did you take Raph's shark bear? I'm going to count to three and it better be back on his bed before I stop counting. One- Good. That's what I thought. I'll make you one too, just ask next time."
When you do get the rare moments of peace, it's blissful and strange at the same time.
Sitting down reading together, whether it's him reading a comic and you a novel. Playing video games with him teaching you some neat and secret tricks, or him even showing you around the Hidden City.
You meeting Hueso was the worst thing to ever happen to Leo. Now he has to deal with the teasing of not only one parental figure, but two? At the same time? He has many regrets. At least you two end up getting along well.
When Leo and Donnie decide to have their daily argument? Into the Get Together shirt they go!
"Wha- No! I demand that I be set free! Being close to this moron is a fate worse than death!"
GASP! "How could you say that, dear brother? I was about to say the same thing!"
"You two continue like this and you'll stay together for a lot longer."
"Yes, mom."
"Yes, mother."
When it eventually gets out to the world that you're very dear to the turtles, you weren't surprised that an enemy of theirs would decide to use you as bait.
Thankfully, Big Mama was pleasantly fun to be around. When you told her about your boys, she instantly released you from her webs and beckoned you to come closer.
When the boys come bursting through the doors, they instantly crumble to the floor in horror. They were too late.
"Oh, hey sweeties!" You wave towards their tearful faces, your phone out and facing you and Big Mama, a picture of the four when they were younger and taking a bath was currently on display. It was only one of the many you had shown the spider Yokai who giggles at the cuteness.
"We're too late! We've failed!" Mikey sobs on the floor, clutching his face out of pure embarrassment.
"Please tell me you didn't show her-"
You cut off Donnie with a large grin, "The video of you guys pretending to be mermaids? I did."
"NO!"
This was not the first time those pictures and videos have been shown to someone, and it will not be the last. You make it your last mission to show off your boys to anyone and everyone.
#rottmnt x reader#rottmnt x you#rottmnt x y/n#rottmnt Mikey x reader#rottmnt raph x reader#rottmnt donnie x reader#rottmnt leo x reader#rottmnt platonic x reader#tmnt x reader#tmnt x you#tmnt x y/n#tmnt donnie x reader#tmnt mikey x reader#tmnt raph x reader#tmnt Leo x reader
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omg hear me out: maxiel big eden au (scotty as dean?)
ANON YOU ARE SINGING THE SONG OF MY HEART
Follow me if you will to MONTANA
Daniel’s like a photographer in the big city and he comes back to his tiny hometown for family health crisis reasons. And it’s scary but not world-ending, but his mum’s so stressed and he hasn’t seen his sister’s kids in so long that he agrees to stay for a few weeks and be all together.
And he’s back in his high school room, under soft old flannel sheets, feeling tight in his skin again in a way he hasn’t in years.
His old truck is still in the garage but it makes all kinds of horrible noises when he starts it up. His mum tells him to take it to the general store, Max will fix it up for him, so he drives really gingerly into town and rattles to a stop outside the general store. For Big Eden enjoyers the old guys who hang around outside the store all day are Max’s gamer friends probably. He remembers Max a bit from school; Daniel was a few years ahead of him but round here everyone knows everyone near enough. The Max in his memory was kind of scrawny but this Max is sturdy, Daniel can see the muscles cording his forearms when he pushes up his sleeves.
Max takes a look at the truck, and when it makes a bad noise again he says, I think he didn’t like you leaving him so long, which makes Daniel laugh it’s such a weird thing to say. He watches Max work on the truck and sort of wanders round the store getting reacquainted with everything, the canned food and the beer in the fridge and the blankets on the wall, the racks of postcards. He could take better pictures than these.
Meanwhile due to the family health crisis everyone is rallying round so Max’s mum sends him over with a casserole or something. And Daniel’s mum makes him stay and eat with them and then Max goes back to his mum’s like, We have to keep making them food. And he keeps bringing food and staying for dinner, warm around the table with the family.
One night Daniel walks him out to his truck, laughing like, I haven’t eaten so much casserole in years. And Max is thinking, I bet he likes fancy New York food. So Max (secretly!) takes over making food for Daniel’s family and does some research and finds some things he thinks sound nice, and after he brings beef carpaccio three nights in a row Daniel is like, Maybe we should try and make something else? Together? Because he’s kind of going out of his mind with nothing to do, and also if Max keeps doing this unsupervised he’s going to turn into a werewolf or something with all the raw meat.
So that’s what they do, cooking together in Max’s little kitchen out the back of the general store, trying to decide on recipes they find online, making ratatouille and sticky ribs and gnocchi. Daniel suggests coq au vin like three hundred times in a horrible exaggerated accent until Max is laughing so hard he’s got a stitch. And they eat together every night and Daniel takes the rest back home to his family, humming to himself over the sound of the truck, so much smoother now since Max fixed it up.
Meanwhile Scotty is Daniel’s childhood best friend who is Also coincidentally back because he moderately injured himself snowboarding or something and his mum wants to fuss over him. Obviously they used to hook up in high school and now Scotty is engaged to a woman etc. And Daniel’s so happy to see him but there’s this ache underneath he can’t even look at.
On Sundays everyone goes to church. Sometimes Daniel twists around in his seat to see Max sitting in a row with his mum and his sister, one of her boys on his knee, their matching haircuts, and afterwards everyone stands outside while the kids run around, Max and Scotty eyeing each other warily. Every month or so there’s a dance in the town square, a band, and Daniel swings his niece around saying Bella, bellissima, tells Max he’s thinking about learning to play guitar.
And Daniel just stays, way longer than he’d planned. He cooks with Max, hangs around the general store making a nuisance of himself, drinks beers on the dock with Scotty. He does some photography workshops at the elementary school, has the kids lie on their backs to take pictures of the sky, blows up all their wonky beautiful shots of leaves and stones for them to pin on the walls. He works a bit, too, taking pictures of the landscape way better than the postcards at the general store, selling prints online, photographing at the rodeo. He could make a living here, he could make a life.
He thinks about it sometimes, how in some ways it’s easier to breathe in the city, how it’s getting easier and easier to breathe here, at home, under the wide sky. He takes so many pictures, of the leaves changing, of the lake at the back of his parents’ house, of the kids, of Scotty whooping in the stands at the rodeo; of Max, smiling shyly from under the brim of his hat; of Max, his hands working under the hood of a truck; of Max, his head tipped back laughing.
One night Max very bravely asks him, When do you think you’ll head back to the city, and Daniel grins at him like, I dunno, we didn’t make coq au vin yet. And Max lets himself start to hope, just a bit.
But then! There’s some sort of big city photography emergency so Daniel is sort of reluctantly like, I guess I have to go back. And his family arrange a send-off, just friends and food at the house the night before he flies.
The night before the party Daniel stands out back for a while looking at the lake until his mum says, Come and sit with me for a while. So he comes and sits on the swing with her and she says, It’s been so nice having you back, which, he already feels shitty for leaving again.
And then she says, Is Max coming by tomorrow? And Daniel’s like, I dunno, I mean I told him. Max had gone really quiet, when Daniel said he was leaving, looking down at his hands for a long moment until Daniel said, You better cook me something nice, and then he’d said, I will, of course.
His mum says, He’s such a sweet boy, and Daniel can only say, Yeah, because there’s this weird lump in his throat all of a sudden.
And then (because this is the Big Eden utopia where homophobia doesn’t exist etc) his mum is like, Did we teach you shame? Just rocking with him on the porch swing under a quilt while Daniel cries a bit.
The next day everyone’s at the house to say goodbye and Max hasn’t shown yet, Daniel keeps sticking his head out of the back door to check for him.
Scotty collars him in the kitchen when no one’s around, tugs him into the pantry. And he kisses Daniel, there in the tiny room with the musty old spice rack and the jars of preserves. And Daniel thinks, his mum didn’t teach him shame, but Scotty kind of did. In high school, under the bleachers, in the back of Daniel’s truck. Never where anyone might see.
Are you not getting married, he says, pulling back, and Scotty says, Yeah, but, his eyes raking over Daniel’s face. For old time’s sake. And Daniel’s leaving everything, and Max didn’t come, and he’d wanted Scotty for so long.
Someone opens the pantry door, quickly shuts it again at the sight of the two of them. Scotty freezes.
Daniel pushes out of the pantry and sees this big pot steaming on a trivet on the table, the door swinging behind Max as he bolts. He calls after him but it’s useless, Max is gone, and when he lifts the lid of the pot he’s hit with the rich rising smell of coq au vin. And it’s like there’s a rope around his heart he hadn’t known was there. Daniel has to go after him.
And there are about seven people blocking in his truck, his truck that Max fixed up, so he just starts running, pounding down the road as the sky darkens. And he’s a mess by the time he gets to the general store, he’s sweating everywhere, and all Max’s gamer friends are outside so mad at him but he pushes past them and finds Max, sitting at the table in the little kitchen with his head in his hands.
Max? His voice is all shot from running over here and Max looks up at him wide-eyed, that rope around Daniel’s heart pulling him until he’s on his knees on the kitchen floor, laying his head against Max’s leg. Max, he says again, the worn denim of Max’s jeans soft against his cheek as Max puts a wondering hand in his hair.
He says, I think I’m gonna stick around for a while, his heart well and truly lassoed, and Max says, Good, wiping Daniel’s eyes with the sleeve of his flannel.
At the next party in the square they dance together, and Daniel feels as big as the sky, the way Max is looking at him, kissing him in front of the stars and everyone they know.
And then they’re gay and in love forever in Montana under the open skies etc
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“I’m not going to fucking dinner with him.”
Hunk balks. “You’re – uh, pardon?”
“I refuse to sit down and do something civil with that jackass,” Lance repeats. “I would genuinely and truly rather swallow glass.”
“You could swallow food,” Hunk points out. “I used to work with the head cook. He’s an oven now, but I have on good authority that he can still make literally anything, and no one makes food like him.”
Choosing to ignore the statement about the cook and the oven, because what the fuck, Lance stands and starts ruffling around the small room he’s taken refuge in. It does indeed look like servant’s quarters, small and homely, but it’s well-made; sturdier than anything Lance has ever been in before. The walls are beautifully smooth plaster, and the floor is polished wood. The bed is creaky from age but in no danger of cracking or falling. The quilt is old, but not too worn, clearly stitched by someone who knows their way around a sewing needle. The entire right-most corner of the room is a window, dark now with either the newly settled night or years of grime, but the craftsmanship of the window and its frame are clearly evident. There’s even a ledge just barely wide enough to sit on at the base of it.
It’s no giant room with a canopy bed and more windows than walls, but…well. Lance was half-convinced he’d be bound in a tower or outcasted to the stables, so he’ll take it.
“Colleen brought that little almond cake thing –”
“Financiers.”
“– with the tea, so I should be fine for the next four days.”
Hunk raises an eyebrow. Or, well, part of the decorative wood top of him moves. Whatever. It looks like an eyebrow, Lance is calling it an eyebrow.
“That was one single tiny cake the size of a child’s fist. And it took you what, a whole day to get here? There’s no possible way you’re not hungry, and you’re certainly not going four days without food.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t hungry. I just said I’m not eating with His Royal Headass.”
For several moments Hunk says nothing, just stares with his eyes narrowed, scrutinizing him. Lance is used to this look, and the long sigh and “what am I going to do with you” that follows it, and as such is entirely unphased, holding eye contact with his hands crossed stubbornly across his chest.
But Hunk doesn’t do that. Instead he opens the doors on his chest, revealing several shelves on one side and a rack on the other, all filled with beautiful, rich fabrics. Lance can’t conceal the sharp inhale of intrigue, and Hunk’s smirk promises it does not go unnoticed.
“Come on,” he cajoles, shimmying a little so the fancy clothes sway. “Even if you don’t like the prince now, you might learn to tolerate him. Besides, you get food and to dress up. Who cares about the company?”
A knock interrupts Lance’s response. A moment later the heavy wooden door pushes open, and Adam pokes his head in, clockhands twitching.
“Dinner is served,” he says pleasantly. Lance notices that his voice is strained.
“I’m good,” Lance says. “Tell Prince Hairball to enjoy himself.”
Hunk makes a strangled noise, and Lance gets the distinct feeling that if he had hands he would be cradling his head in them.
“But – you must – you’re meant to attend,” Adam stammers.
Lance feels kind of bad for putting him on the spot like this, but not bad enough to actually go and force himself to sit through what he knows will either be the most agonizingly awkward meal of his life or a dramatic screamfest, so he shakes his head and turns away.
The door’s gentle click shut follows Adam’s hops out of the room, and then the room descends into silence. Very suddenly, Lance feels the urge to cry again rise up in his throat, but luckily he manages to shove it down, turning to sit by the window instead. The only thing he can see out of the dark glass is his own reflection, but he stares through it, imagining that just outside the window is his town, with its well-loved storefronts and stalls in the square, the overtrodden stone paths, the rolling hills of farmland, and most importantly their crumbling brick house. He imagines that he can hear the creak of the waterpump as the twins gather the jugs of water for the day, the gentle mooing of Kaltenecker in response to Blue and Red’s neighs, the clank of his mother in the kitchen, the grunts of his brothers and father working out in the fields. They’ll all be asleep now, long asleep, but he pretends anyway.
“What?!”
Lance startles at the booming yell that rings through the castle, bouncing and echoing off the stone walls.
“Oh, here we go,” mutters Hunk.
Seconds later, the walls start to shake ever so slightly, accompanied by the sound of pounding footsteps and sharp claws scratching the polished floors. Quieter but no less frantic are the clank and hops of something trying desperately to keep up.
Lance grits his teeth when the stomping finally reaches his door, and a great fist pounds on the wood.
“You were told to come to dinner!” roars a voice.
Lance doesn’t even bother entertaining the demand with an answer.
“Try asking gently,” urges another voice, muffled in a whisper. “Maybe you’ll be surprised.”
“He doesn’t deserve gently.” The words are so low and growly that they’re barely intelligible. “He waltzed into this place with an attitude. Why do I have to be the gentle one?”
A third voice snorts. “Believe me, you won’t be.”
Straining his ears, Lance hears a deep, carefully controlled breath. He can feel Prince Keith’s tension from through the door.
He smirks. The satisfaction of his fuming is more filling than a proper meal, honestly.
“Would you please,” Prince Keith grits out, measured, “come to dinner.”
Lance opens his mouth. Hunk looks at him sharply, a very clear warning, so Lance pauses, rolling his eyes and reevaluating.
“No, thank you,” he says as politely as he can physically manage.
“You’re coming to fucking dinner!” Keith roars. “Come out or I’ll – I’ll break the door down!”
“For fuck’s sake, Keith,” Shiro says sharply. “You’re supposed to live with him for the rest of your life. Can you try to avoid traumatising him?”
“Not traumatised,” Lance calls out helpfully. “Also not coming.”
Keith’s cut off-shout of frustration is, honestly, almost enough to make Lance want to open the door, just to see if his eye is twitching.
"You can't stay in there forever."
"I can, actually."
He can’t remember ever feeling this much pleasure in pissing someone off before. He tends to swallow things down to avoid making things worse for himself, at least until he can slip off with Blue and take his frustrations out with his bow. But there are no real consequences for his smart mouth, here. Sure, Keith will scream and shout and make threats, but Lance has carefully watched the way Shiro and Adam coral him. He’s heard news of every other fiancé leaving after two months. They need someone, for whatever reason, and as things are looking, Lance is their only option, as subpar and bottom-barrel as he may be.
There’s a strangled sound from beyond the door, and Lance imagines the prince with his head in his hands, desperately trying to calm himself down.
“It would give me great pleasure if you would kindly come downstairs and join me for dinner.”
There’s a pause, and then the distinct sound of someone getting smacked in the back of the head.
“...Please.”
Lance pauses, considering.
“No.”
For as much fun as he was having, he still jumps out of his skin when both Keith’s fists pound on the door as he roars again, a louder sound than Lance has ever heard, and gouges his claws through the wood so deeply that Lance can see the shining pointed edge of them.
“Fine!” His claws rip out of the door and there’s a sweeping sound, as if his heavy cloak brushes harshly along the floor as he whips around. “If he doesn’t eat with me, he doesn’t eat at all!”
He stomps off, slamming several things to the floor in his wake, shaking the foundations of the castle with his rage until he gets far enough away that his tantrum finally fades into silence. Lance scowls when he realises his hands are shaking and clenches them into fists, shoving them deeply into his pockets.
"You know, he might not be that bad if you get to know him."
"Fuck that. I don't want to get to know him."
"Maybe if –"
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says harshly upon Hunk’s look.
“I wasn’t going to ask you too,” Hunk says quietly. “I don’t –" He sighs. "I know this can’t be easy.”
Lance feels guilty immediately. “Oh.” Hunk is the only person in his life, besides maybe Veronica if sisters can count, who has called himself his friend, and here Lance is, making life harder for him. Fuck. “Sorry.”
“Sit down, you walking disaster,” Hunk says fondly. “I have literally never seen him get that mad, and I knew him when we were kids. You are talented. Here.” A ball of yarn flies out of one of the drawers on Hunk’s side, nailing Lance in the face.
“Hey!”
Hunk smirks. “Come get the needles or I’ll launch those, too.”
He’s pretty sure Hunk is joking, but on the off chance he isn’t, he rushes to the drawer and grabs the needles himself before sitting back on the bed. He feels all the ugly feelings – the rage, the sick satisfaction, the confusion, the homesickness, the ache – start to melt away with the familiar smoothness of the wooden needles in his hands, the weight of the heavy wool. He has no idea how Hunk has figured out his affinity for the craft – most men don't bother with it, he knows – but he’s grateful regardless.
He falls into the rhythm of the stitches. He has no idea what he’s going to make yet, but right now he just needs to do something familiar. If he hates it, he can just undo the stitches and restart. It’s not like he has anywhere else to be.
Halfway through the skein, his stomach rumbles loud enough to echo through the room. He ignores it, because he made a very stubborn point and he intends to stick to it, but after the sixth time it happens in as many minutes, he concedes to the point that the stubborn point he point may have been, if he considers all possible angles, a poor one.
He clears his throat. “So, uh, you said you had a friend who was an oven?”
Hunk snorts. “Yes, you bullhead. Head down the hallway, turn left twice and right once, it’ll lead you to the staff entrance of the kitchen. Colleen should be attempting to wrangle Katie to bed, but other than that everyone should be available to help you out.”
Quickly setting down his knitting, Lance heads for the door.
“Wait, Lance.” Hunk’s face is very still when Lance turns back to face him, something serious in his eyes. “Don’t veer off from the path I told you, okay?”
“Why?”
“Just – don’t do it, Lance. I don’t want you to end up in the west wing, or things are going to get bad in here.”
If Lance is being entirely honest, he has no desire to deviate from Hunk’s directions. At least he didn’t. If Hunk hadn’t said anything, it probably wouldn’t have even occurred to Lance to go to the west wing anyway. This is the second time he has been warned away from the west wing, now. If Lance was curious before, he’s burning with it now.
But Hunk is his friend, and he’s doing him a favour, so he bites his tongue and nods his head and walks down the way Hunk instructed him too. It helps that he’s ravenous, and is more focused on food than anything.
But he won’t lie and say that he doesn’t have to force himself away from dark hallways and beckoning shadows.
———
next chapter
#oh the big snap is coming i cannot wait#vld#voltron#lance#lance mcclain#keith#keith kogane#klance#pre klance#beauty and the beast#batb au#hunk#hunk garrett#lance & hunk#shiro & keith#broganes#adashi#langst#keith angst#klangst#my writing#fic#longpost
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But Daddy I Love Him!: A Disney Princess Legacy Challenge
I didn't really like any version of the Disney Princess Legacy so I decided to do one myself! I tried not to repeat traits, skills... But sometimes I couldn't figure out, sorry! I also included a color scheme based on the princess. You have to complete the aspiration, career and max the skills, unless stated otherwise. I also included some extra goals!
It's not playtested, so I might make changes as I play. I have an edited lifespan that makes Young Adulthood and Adulthood a little bit longer, but Teenagehood and Childhood shorter. My guess is that you could finish the challenge in normal lifespan, but you also can do it in long or with a custom lifespan, or even turn aging off if you want to! Whatever you want to do!
Also, I had to be quite... Creative in some of the princess descriptions, because their personalities are very similar.
Also, there's not really any general rules. Your heir can be any gender you want (Everyone can be a princess!), if you want to cheat, cheat, if you wanna change something, change it!
Generation 1. Snow White 🍎
Packs: Cottage Living, Parenthood
Running away from a terrible family, you find yourself in a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere. You dedicate yourself to keep it clean and make it a home. A hopeless romantic, you dream of finding your true love and form a beautiful family.
Traits: Cheerful, Romantic, Childish
Aspiration: Soulmate
Career: Stay-at-Home Parent
Skills: Cooking, Parenting, Cross-Stitching
Colors: Red, Blue and Yellow
Make seven friends
Marry your first love and stay with them all your life. Don’t woohoo before marriage
Befriend wild animals (bunnies, birds, foxes)
Have three children
Grow an apple tree of magnificent quality in your backyard
Generation 2. Cinderella 👠
Packs: High School Years, Cats and Dogs, My First Pet Stuff
Your parent instill in you the importance of being a hard-worker, but you can’t help but wish for a better life! With your two siblings making your life impossible, you spent your teenage years working a part-time job and saving as much money as you could to get away from them. As a young adult, you move to your own place and start working in the world of fashion.
Traits: Ambitious, Overachiever, Perfectionist
Aspiration: Fabulously Wealthy
Career: Style Influencer
Skills: Writing, Painting, Charisma, Photography
Colors: Silver
Have a bad relationship with your two siblings
As a teen, reach max level of a part-time job of your choice
Always have a rat and a cat as your pets
You need no one to achieve success! But, eventually, you find someone as rich as talented as you have become (aka, don’t marry/move with before you have completed at least 3 tiers of your aspiration)
Generation 3. Aurora 🛏️
Packs: Nifty Knitting, Get Famous, Parenthood, Island Living
Unlike your parent, you don't even have to move a finger to get what you want. Born and raised in a wealthy family, you might be getting a little spoiled. That’s why your parents send you to live in your uncle/aunt’s house. There, you learn some good lessons, like the importance of generosity and hard work. Although some things never change… And naps are still your favorite pastime!
Traits: Lazy, Creative, Generous
Aspiration: Lord/Lady of the Knits
Career: Career Hop
Skills: Comedy, Knitting
Colors: Blue, Pink
Move out to your uncle/aunt’s house as a teen. There, they teach you discipline. Make sure you get at least two good character value traits!
Meet your future spouse at your uncle/aunt’s, but don’t start dating him until you are a young adult. They have to be a mermaid!
As a young adult, you don’t really know what to do. Career hop everytime you receive a call!
You love to knit! It is something you can do while sitting. Unlock all types of clothing and buy objects available with the Knitting skill
Generation 4. Ariel 🧜🏻♀️
Packs: Island Living, Snowy Escape, Parenthood
As a teen, you discover that you are not a normal sim: you are a merfolk. Your curious nature makes you move out from your family house to the place where your parent was born and raised, and reconnect with your roots. But when you fall in love with a normal sim, you decide to renounce your other form and become a boring, normal human.
Traits: Geek, Adventurous, Child of the Ocean
Aspiration: Beach Life
Career: Conservationist
Skills: Logic, Fitness
Colors: Red, Green, Purple
Get the Irresponsible character value trait
As soon as you become a young adult, move out to Sulani
Complete the Seashells collection and another collection of your choice
Befriend a dolphin
Stop being a mermaid when you fall in love with a human sim!
Generation 5. Belle 📚
Packs: High School Years, City Living/For Rent, Growing Together, Cats and Dogs
Ever since you were a kid you loved to hide under the covers with a good book and immerse yourself in a world full of magic where everything is possible. You love to read, it is your favorite thing in the whole world, and to think you also could create those beautiful stories? That's your dream. You also love your family, but you want to have your own life, so after graduating high school you move to a shared apartment looking for a little more independence. Turns out your roommate is a monster, but for some reason you can’t stop thinking that there is goodness deep inside them…
Traits: Bookworm, Creative, Good
Aspiration: Best-Selling Author
Career: Writer
Skills: Writing, Charisma
Colors: Yellow
Try to become a valedictorian or at least graduate with honors in High School!
Share an apartment with a sim with the evil trait. Fall in love with them, and try to change its trait for another one with the self-discovery system!
Keep a rose in your house
Always have a dog in your household
Generation 6. Jasmine 🧞♂️
Packs: Get Famous, High School Years, Get Together, For Rent, Romantic Garden Stuff
Stubborn and impulsive, you are not interested in love at all, especially with your parents pressuring you to give them grandkids and introducing you to suitors all the time. You want to triumph, be something for yourself! You might come across as a little self-absorbed, but you have a good heart and will help everyone in need. You move to Del Sol Valley looking for fame, and there you find someone that sparks your interest… But if you do commit to someone, it will be your decision. Your parents will have nothing to say in the matter.
Traits: Self-Absorbed, Hot-Headed, Party Animal
Aspiration: World Famous Celebrity
Career: Actor/Actress
Skills: Acting, Dancing
Colors: Blue
Have a bad relationship with all the sims your parents introduce you, especially with one of them
Fall in love with a sim in the criminal career. Your parents do not approve of them, so they have a bad relationship
Go on a vacation to Tomarang and adopt a tiger!
Make three different wishes with the wishing well over the course of your life
Generation 7. Pocahontas 🌳
Packs: Seasons, Outdoor Retreat, Discover University, Spa Day, For Rent
You grew up in the buzzling city of Del Sol Valley, a place that never sleeps, full of luxury and fake appearances, but you never felt comfortable there. You always had a connection with nature, and as soon as you reach young adulthood, you leave your parents mansion, looking to find inner peace. A natural leader, you decide to devote your life to guide and teach young generations.
Traits: Loves Outdoors, Self-Assured, Vegetarian
Aspiration: Outdoor Enthusiast
Career: Education
Skills: Research & Debate, Herbalism, Wellness
Colors: Brown, Blue
As a child and a teen, be in scouts and collect all the badges!
Have a failed relationship before finding the one you form a family with
You are a deeply spiritual person. Max the friendship bar with one of your dead grandparents
Get the Wise trait as an elder
Generation 8. Mulan 🐉
Packs: StrangerVille, Paranormal
You have a huge sense of responsibility, so you join the military thinking that that is the best way to help people. But then, you are transferred to the town of StrangerVille, and start suspecting the military wants to cover something related to the Secret Lab in the outskirts of town… And you are gonna figure out what it is.
Traits: Clumsy, Active, Family-Oriented
Aspiration: StrangerVille Mystery
Career: Military
Skills: Fitness, Logic
Colors: Green, Blue, Yellow
Fall in love with someone also in the military career. You have to have a bad relationship with them first
Befriend three other co-workers
Matchmake your friends!
Get the Brave reward trait
Generation 9. Tiana 🐸
Packs: Dine Out, Cottage Living, Growing Together
You have a passion for good food, are a very hard-working sim and will do anything possible to achieve your goals! You start working at a restaurant hoping one day you will open your very own, where you will make people happy with your dishes. Oh, you also are obsessed with frogs, but you don’t know where that comes from…
Traits: Foodie, Animal Enthusiast, Self-Assured
Aspiration: Master Chef
Career: Chef/Restaurant Owner
Skills: Cooking, Gourmet Cooking
Colors: Green, Blue
Open your own restaurant after completing the aspiration. Reach the 5 stars!
Complete the frogs collection
Have a best friend
Adopt at least 1 child; They will be the heir. Have a strict family dynamic with them
Generation 10. Rapunzel 🌞
Packs: Get to Work, Horse Ranch, City Living
Your parents were always very protective of you, and you never understood why, until they confessed to you that you were adopted. Because of their strict parenting, you couldn’t do crazy things and learn from your mistakes; you crave adventures and want to discover who you really are. You really are a creative force! You love painting, you love singing, and you also seem to have a gift to make other people feel better, so you decide to become a doctor and spend all your free time looking for your biological parents.
Traits: Art Lover, Music Lover, Genius
Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire
Career: Doctor
Skills: Painting, Logic, Singing
Colors: Pink, Purple
Find your biological parents as a young adult or an adult
Have a very long hair
Have a horse in your household
Have 4 kids in total. 3 of them have to be triplets!
Note: If I finish the legacy, which I don't think I will because I never finish them 😂 I will make extra generations for Merida, Moana and Raya.
#Sims 4 legacy#Sims 4 legacy challenge#Sims 4 legacy challenge rules#Disney Princess Legacy Challenge#Sims 4#Sims 4 gameplay#ts4challengehub
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I run from the things that I want the most - Shoji x Reader
requested by @fuzztacular - this was a wild ride to write
Reader has a lizard quirk, this fic is in tune with this Tokoyami fic
“Cute,” Shoji thinks, lips pressed together tightly to make sure the word doesn’t slip out.
You’re sitting at the kitchen table, fighting against sleep. Your hair’s stuck to the side of your head, no doubt from sleeping on your side, and the sleeves of your sweatshirt dangle from your arms, your hands hidden away. You always do that and while he’d never openly admit it, it’s the one thing that makes his stomach flutter every single time.
But he’s nice and respectful and he’s not going to make you feel weird in your new, shared apartment. Besides, you’re probably not interested anyway.
“Here,” he pushes a cup of coffee toward you and turns back toward the stove, “Do you want real eggs for breakfast or the vegan alternative?”
“Both is fine,” you groan into your coffee, so he checks the fridge. He’s running low on bacon, but the vegan alternative Koji brought over last time tastes like cardboard. Well, he supposes he can leave the bacon for you and eat cardboard for breakfast today.
- -
One month after you’ve moved in, things have turned a little less awkward. You’re in your room most of the time and he’s out for work during all the other hours.
Shoji knows you settled in from all the little things.
Your conditioner is squeezed into the tiny tray with his things, your shampoo bottle sitting cozy on the bottom next to his. Sometimes, when he feels particularly lonely and awkward, he gets flustered looking at your toothbrush sitting in the same cup as his.
But this is fine. He’s fine. Everything’s fine.
.
“I’m making dinner,” he calls out to your closed door. “Do you want something?”
He leans down to pull the pan out, the movement pulling at the fresh stitches. He hisses at the pain, clutches his side, and almost topples over.
Shoji’s barely regained his balance when he feels an arm under one of his, pulling him up.
“Are you okay?” You ask, breath washing over his face. It almost makes him topple over again.
“I’m fine,” he insists, but he can feel a sticky wetness on his left side.
“You’re bleeding,” you point out and he groans. “Yeah, I’m aware.”
“Are you hurt?”
“A little,” Shoji confesses when your brows do that funny thing they did the first time you met.
“What do you need?”
“Food,” He snorts when you look wholly unimpressed. “I’m serious, I’m fine. I just… moved wrong. I think I pulled at my stitches, that’s all.”
“I don’t believe you. Come on, call your doctor or nurse or whoever gave you permission to go home and tell them what you did. I’ll cook in the meantime.”
Shoji sighs and grabs his phone, makes it past the kitchen table when you turn around and snip your fingers.
“In here,” you point at the table, “Where I can hear that you’re not making light of anything.”
- - -
How does one make friends?
Shoji has never been good at it.
It’s not like anyone ever gave him the manual everyone else seemed to be able to follow either.
He’s too quiet or says the wrong things, is too scary or not scary enough…
Sometimes, mostly when everyone he knows is out working or busy doing other stuff, he can’t help but wonder if he only has friends because he happened to come close to one Midoriya Izuku.
Maybe that’s all it is.
.
The front door opens in the middle of his ruminations and you stop, halfway into the apartment, bags hanging off your shoulders. “Oh,” you say, “You’re home.”
Shoji freezes for only a second before he shakes his head.
“Just sitting around. If you want to use the living room I can read in my bedroom just as well.”
“You don’t have to,” you insist, “I was just going to watch something. I can do that in my room as well.”
“What were you going to watch?”
“Oh, you know…” You stutter out the name of a show he’s heard mentioned before.
“I don’t know that show,” he admits, “Would it be too forward if I watched it with you?”
.
The show is quite interesting and he makes a mental note to catch up on it later.
You’re sitting tense, body crammed into the opposite corner. Maybe he’s readying all the signs wrong too.
Maybe you’re not shy like Fumikage said, but rather not interested.
“How did-” You start and he looks over. “Never mind.”
“Please?”
You’re looking away and he’s already giving up hope when you speak up again.
“How did Tokoyami convince you?”
Shoji furrows his brows, a little confused.
“To let me move in,” you explain.
He blinks. “He just told me that you needed an apartment. Didn’t he tell you that I was looking for a roommate?”
“No, I got that, but-” You bite down on your lip and he looks away, intent on not making you uncomfortable. He’s probably doing a shit job at it as is. “I’m a girl.”
“I know.”
You’re now furrowing your brows and maybe you’re already losing patience with him or you’re really just trying to figure out how to explain this.
“How did he convince you?”
“Oh, he didn’t, but my cousin… you know, since they’re dating…” You’re rambling now, already gone far past the point you were trying to make. “And I thought maybe you’re looking for a girlfriend rather than a roommate-”
“I’m not.”
“Oh,” you make and he’d give his career to know if that just sounded a little disappointed to him or if it was meant that way.
“Not that I’m not interested,” he tries to explain himself, “But looking for it doesn’t really make sense if you don’t know how to look.”
Embarrassment floods him like a tidal wave. He’s staring at the screen now, hoping against hope that you didn’t realize what he meant by that.
“I know what you mean,” you point out, voice so quiet he almost misses it. When he turns you’re not looking at him, hands fiddling in your lap as you stare at the screen as well.
“So we’re both unfamiliar with how dating works?” He asks, unable to keep quiet, to just assume.
You nod, stiffly.
“Maybe we could give each other pointers,” the words slip out before he can wholly figure out what he wants them to mean.
You nod again, still not looking at him.
“How about,” he starts, looking down at his hands, all six of them. “Being friends?”
- - - x
“Morning,” Shoji greets when you slip out of your room.
You wave in his approximate direction and drag yourself to the bathroom first. It’s getting colder and you can tell your body’s not pleased about leaving the warm cocoon you’ve built in your bed.
You didn’t get all the cool benefits of your mother’s quirk, not like your cousin. You’re not even a little fireproof - you had to find out the hard way.
But just like any regular lizard you’ve got a problem regulating your temperature.
Your eyes blink back at you a little less colorful today and the world has turned foggy. You bite back a groan and slip into an array of shirts to keep you warm. You know what it means, but if you can live a little longer in denial, you’ll take every minute of it.
.
“Breakfast’s ready,” Shoji calls out when you step out of the bathroom.
He doesn’t seem to feel the biting cold at all, wearing nothing but a tank top and sweatpants. The sight of his bare feet makes you shiver. The sight of his tanktop-clad shoulders makes you shiver too, but for a different reason.
It still felt like a fever dream some days, all of this. Moving in with your cousin right after College only for her to find the man of her dreams within six months of you living together. And she’d been so nice about it too, promising she’d never ask you to move out or leave you alone with a rent too high to pay alone.
But one could only do so much third-wheeling before it became too much.
And now you’re here, already five months into living with Shoji, who’s probably the last decent man on earth.
He even cooks you breakfast every single day - well, minus the two weeks he was out of commission because he got stabbed at work.
“You don’t have to cook all the time, you know,” you point out when he slides a plate in front of you and sets a cup of coffee next to it. You can tell by the color that he did it exactly the way you like the most.
If you could get an award for being a good person, Shoji would have a record in getting gold medals.
“I know, but I like doing it. And you have enough on your mind in the mornings as is.” He points out before taking the seat opposite of you. His knee knocks against yours under the table. He doesn’t pull away.
Sometime in the last month, after making it past spending time together watching a movie and talking to each other at least once each day, it has become a thing to touch.
You had both agreed - in your weird study of what’s the difference between friends and lovers and how to find them - that touch was important. But touch was also… unfamiliar, sometimes weird, and sometimes not at all comfortable.
The solution, as Shoji had proposed, seemed pretty simple: get used to it with someone you trust. You trust him. And he seems to trust you.
- - - x x
Your face is pressed against Shoji’s shoulder. He’s incredibly warm. So warm, in fact, that you want to do nothing more but crawl into his skin and stay there.
“I don’t think that’s going to work out,” he mumbles and you have half the mind to realize that you must have thought that out loud.
“You’re a really good hugger,” you say, too tired to think of a proper compliment but not tired enough to keep quiet.
“Thanks,” he hums. “Warm now?”
“No,” you snuggle a bit further into him, “But I won’t be until my skin comes off.”
“Oh, I didn’t think of that,” he says, “Is that why you’ve been trying to scratch your back lately?”
One of his hands scratches your back at exactly the point that had been itching you all week and you groan, eyes rolling back at the absolute relief.
Shoji laughs, a quiet, comfortable sound. You want to drown in it.
He keeps scratching and you keep sinking, into him, into sleep, into this sea of comfort you call his arms.
His voice drifts around your head like clouds. You can barely make out the words.
“Would it be the wrong moment to tell you that I’m in love with you?
.
You wake up swaddled in blankets, stretched out on the Couch in the living room, no sight of Shoji.
Last night feels like a fever dream and your limbs feel heavy and hazy. When you pull your shirts off in the bathroom, a big patch of your old skin comes off too. It’s thin and leathery and you toss it in the trash, your whole body on edge.
It doesn’t hurt to shed your skin. It’s just… gross. Uncomfortable, weird.
“Weirdo, Weirdo,” the kids had called out, pointing at you when the skin around your nose started flaking off in school.
“Ugh, that’s so gross,” a girl you had called a friend took her food and got up from the table, “I can’t watch that when I’m trying to eat.”
“I’m home,” A voice calls out from somewhere behind the door and you need a minute to recognize it in the midst of all your memories.
“Bathroom,” you call back, rushing to turn the key.
If you want to come back out, you need to look normal.
- - - x x x
“I bought groceries,” Shoji says when you open the door. You glance over, relieved to see him with his face in the fridge, organizing his stuff. “Do you want to have a salad or some snack stuff first?”
“Mhm, you decide,” your voice sounds weirdly choked up and you make sure you’re at your bedroom door before he looks up.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, totally fine, everything’s fine.” You rush to add, “Just… Forgot I had something I needed to get done today.”
The door closes behind you before he can say anything.
You lean your back against it, but there’s no relief flooding through you, just embarrassment and shame. You look hideous right now, patches of old skin still sticking to your face. You don’t want to rip it off but you can’t show yourself to Shoji like that either.
Not when you-
“Did I make you uncomfortable?”
His voice is muffled by the door, but he sounds close like he’s just on the other side of it.
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” you insist. It’s not his fault you’re uncomfortable all of the time.
“Are you sure? What I said…”
You halt, turn to the door as if you could face him properly that way.
“Wait, what did you say?”
“When you were falling asleep, I-” You press against the door as if that could make him speak faster. “I confessed to you.”
Time stands still. You’re pretty sure someone with a time-stopper quirk must have walked by and froze you. You cannot explain it otherwise.
It���s only when Shoji calls out your name that you realize you’re able to move, feet and all.
“Sorry, I just… I… Really?” The last word comes out a little high and broken, a little desperate and lonely, but you can’t take it back.
“Really,” he says and his tone matches yours just as perfectly as everything else he does.
You pull open the door, not at all mad to see him in your doorway, broad and safe and warm and tall, arms hovering as if he’s waiting for nothing else but to pull you in.
“Even if my face is gross?” You point at it, tears already running.
You don’t really expect him to have an answer to that. Even less that he moves to cradle your face in his hands.
“As an expert in gross faces, I don’t think your face is gross. I think it’s very cute.”
“Your face is not gross,” you claim, moving to cradle his as well. “It’s really cute.”
A smile blooms on his face. “Really?” He asks, his tone not unlike yours before.
“Really.”
-x-x-x-
“Someone’s missing,” Sato points out, a giant cake balanced in his hands. He’s counting the heads, coming up short one. “Who’s missing.”
“No one’s missing,” Tokoyami pulls back Dark Shadow before it can wreak havoc on the cake. “Shoji’s just hiding his girlfriend.”
“I’m not hiding,” you call out from where you’re curled up in Shoji’s arms, “I’m cold.”
“She’s cold,” Shoji repeats and you can’t see his face but you can hear the content smile in his voice. “I’m warming her up.”
“Don’t make me regret showing up,” Sato huffs, setting down the cake. “Don’t remind me that I’m single all the time!”
“It’s a skill issue,” Ojiro jokes, tail hanging off the empty chair next to him, “You’re the only one left.”
“The only one left?” Sato gasps. “Koji? Really? Et tu, Brute?”
Koji ducks his head, smiling. You snuggle further into Shoji and grin.
It was a good idea to set Koji up with your coworker after all.
#my writing#shoii x reader#shoji mezo#shoji fluff#shoji x you#bnha x reader#bnha#bnha fluff#mha fluff#mha x reader#mha x you#bnha x you
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the girl is mine
summary: the colonel has never liked you. he likes you even less with this special and suggests a quick divorce to free up elvis. you bear the brunt of elvis's aggravation on the matter. you're his, aren't you?
fandom: austin butler | elvis ( 2022 ) | elvis presley
pairing: austin butler elvis x female reader
rating: m.
word count: 1423
warnings: throat fucking. possessiveness. 68 special elvis. the colonel being the colonel. mild hint of face fucking. oral ( m receiving, f implied/referenced ). reference to cheating but no one is cheating.
author's note: welcome to the double dip day 29 for kinktober, throat fucking with austin!elvis. imagine who you want, this is supposed to be austin!elvis and imagines what happened post the "mmhmm" scene but can be read either way. i've got no other real comments to say other than woo i am almost done- in the middle of november- with kinktober ( at least the main parts since i had that tiny gaggle of double dips ). also at some point tonight you might end up seeing a little mood board for something i've been cooking up.
Once upon a time you're pretty sure that the Colonel was useful to Elvis. Once upon a time he helped your now husband navigate a world he was never a part of. Once upon a time he helped him shoot to the level of stardom that no one had ever seen before. He had his use once upon a time but nowadays you truly wonder what exactly is his use. Elvis's last films had flopped, Elvis was deliriously unhappy with the quality of work he was putting out and well- he was just unhappy in general, unfulfilled and you knew better than anyone that an unfulfilled Elvis was a dangerous Elvis.
Elvis had kept you in the dark as to what all exactly was happening in the special, telling you that he wanted to have you be just another audience member and saying "don't you be asking Jerry 'bout it, he ain't gonna tell you either." It's fun if you're being honest, usually you're at least mildly privy to the things your husband will do but not today. Of course, this meant that you wanted to go and congratulate him on what was one of the best shows you think he's ever done with some of the best singing you've ever heard and tell him how the entire crowd was obsessed with him.
But, then you hear it outside the door. You hear your husband's voice harden, you hear the Colonel threaten him and you fight the urge to storm in there, guns blazing to ever so delicately- truthfully not at all- punch that toad in the face. Before you can properly entertain the idea, the door is opening and the Colonel leaves but not before glancing at you with a huff and a shake of his head. You think maybe you should let Elvis cool off, knowing fully well that when he gets hotheaded that sometimes even you can't cool him down and you hate being on the receiving end of his frustration like this especially when you were in such a good mood. But you hear him muttering and you know that no, you ought to check on him.
"Baby?" Your voice is quiet when you enter the room but Elvis hears it nonetheless his facial features shifting from pure anger to something far more fond for a moment.
"Darlin'." He opens up his arms as if to ask you to come closer so that he can hug you and you oblige knowing you just want to do whatever it'll take to make him feel better. You'd like to talk about it, but- that might be better saved for later. "Colonel's- talking goddamn silliness again. Thinkin' I oughta divorce ya after that comment you made about the sewing machine and how you make a great wife but you'd rather hand stitch or have a professional do it in that one magazine."
You bite your lip in a bit of embarrassment before you shrug. "It's the truth though, I know even with those machines anything I turn out isn't gonna be half as good as what I can pay an honest working woman to do for me. Should be happy about it. I didn't say it wasn't a good-"
He chuckles, cutting you off. "You might as well have." He rubs at the back of his neck in thought before he sighs. "He thinks- He never has liked ya, thinks you're with me for all the wrong reasons, thinks you're sleeping with half the Mafia when you and I both know you wouldn't dream of that. Right Mama?"
There's a pause where you lick your lips and ponder before nodding. It's in the moment that you look up and see Elvis's eyes looking just a little more stormy than they already were that you realize your playful pause was a mistake. You open your mouth to say something before he places his finger on top of your lips.
"Not a peep out of you darlin'. I know the Colonel ain't right because you've been a good girl. You are a good girl. Always take my cock so well. Always let me get my fill of ya." He moves to grasp your chin, pulling you in for a soft kiss that quickly turns into him nipping at your lower lip. "Can I use you right now, darlin'? Get what I need out of you for right now? I'll give you a present at the end."
You should say no, you should say no because usually when Elvis is like this and asks you a question like that you end up doing something that you really shouldn't have. But- he's your husband and truth be told- the idea of having a promised present at the end fills you with enough excitement that you nod your head slowly. "How do you want me, baby?"
He shakes his head as he bites at his lips. "On your knees for me." He pulls at the tie on his robe, revealing that he isn't wearing a stitch of clothing underneath. You gulp as if it's your first time as you sink to your knees. You should wait until Elvis is ready, should wait until he pulls your mouth onto his cock but you don't, you see how he's for some reason already hardening just by looking at you on the floor so you start to wrap your lips around the tip earning a moan from him.
"Satnin." He groans, his hand moving to cup the back of your head, cupping your neck in an effort to get you to take more of him into your mouth. He knows he could get you to deep throat him immediately, you'd adjust but he's trying to be gentle. As if you can hear him being worried about the need to be gentle you look up at him and relax your throat, a hand moving on top of his giving him permission.
It's all the permission he needs, his fingers somehow gripping at your hair in whatever way he can and pushing your mouth further down his cock until he feels the tip of him against the back of your throat. You're coughing around his cock a little, trying to adjust even as you swear he's becoming girthier than he already was. The temptation to shut your eyes is there but you resist making sure to train your eyes on Elvis even as you try and make a swallowing motion knowing that the few times you've done it before Elvis has seemed to enjoy it.
The way his hand tightens and tries to yank at your hair tells you that you made the right decision. His thrusts into your mouth are sloppy as he mumbles above you words that are truly going in one ear and out the other with you catching snippets about "the colonel" "best girl" "my wife" and you start to clench your thighs together, your hand moving down to between your legs before he does a particularly rough thrust that has him hitting the back of your throat with enough force you can't help but stop breathing for a moment.
"Don't- Goddamn- sorry darlin' but don't you be touching what's mine. Gonna take care of you like I always do. You just wait a few minutes." He mutters, shutting his eyes for a moment as if to stave off the inevitable that is coming barreling faster than he intends it to.
Now that you know that you being touched depends on him coming first, you hum around his cock, the vibrations causing him to still for just a moment before an almost inhuman growl leaves his body, the thrusts and the pulling and pushing of your head on his cock reaching an almost fever pitch as you try and keep up, your tongue moving and your mouth just focusing on the task at hand. It doesn't take too long until you feel him coming while he's at the back of your throat, the salt and warmth of it coating your mildly abused throat as you try and not cough too much, as you try and not waste too much.
When Elvis pulls you off his cock, you think he's going to say something before you feel him picking you up and just setting you on the vanity behind the two of you and pulling down your underwear. Your voice is a little rough when you speak. "Elvis?"
"We'll talk later. Think I promised you a present, didn't I?"
#austin butler elvis x you#austin butler elvis x reader#austin butler elvis#austin butler elvis x y/n#austin elvis x reader#austin elvis#austin elvis x you#austin elvis x y/n#elvis 2022#ally's kinktober 2022#kinktober 2022#ally writes
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Cat's Cradle, Chapter 14
Ch1 ... Ch13
The kittens, now old enough to go without food for a little more time, are somehow even more of a torment on Percy’s nerves than they were before.
“Vex!” he calls, shrill. “We have fugitives!”
“They’ve started learning to walk, Percy,” she tosses back. From the kitchen, given how she echoes. “Of course they’ve escaped. They can’t get far.”
“Velcro was in the middle of the floor!”
He does not have to hear her sigh to know she makes it. He assumes she pads down the hall, slips over the babygate silent as ever, because she appears in the doorway. Finds him sitting on the floor with his convict in his lap, the tiny blue tom wiggling viciously as he tries to resume his grand exploration of the room.
Percy, in turn, is greeted with Vex in an apron. Which is half of why he avoided cooking with her to instead give the kittens supper, because good gods is it a cute look on her. The kiss the chef reads like an invitation, or an instruction manual. A recipe for disaster.
“We’ll need a box,” he declares around the lump in his throat, plopping Velcro back in the basket. Or trying to - the kitten clings, wailing in outrage, until Percival relents and lets it sit in the crook of his leg. Corralled, for now.
“Or a playpen,” Vex muses, tapping the spatula to her lips. Her eyes flit to something, not Percy but past him, and she grins. “I’ll leave you to figure that out yourself. I’m sure you can manage, my clever man.”
She leaves him fumbling long enough for Velcro and Spanner to stumble out and mewl in surprise at how cool the floor is.
--
With a soft playpen set up, Percy feels a lot better about leaving the kittens unsupervised, even if only for short bursts.
Such as an impromptu brunch with friends. It is a rare stroke of luck, for time off to line up so adeptly. Perhaps easier, without Vax’ildan’s graveyard shifts leaving him dead tired all day or Keyleth’s numerous projects tripping her up. Emptier, too.
“Okay,” Scanlan is saying, sipping loudly on a mimosa. “But you’re sure it’s alright? Kaylie says she hasn’t seen your truck at the workshop in, like, a week.”
“You have your daughter spying on him? Creepy.” Grog makes a show of scoffing, shoveling pancakes into his mouth. Despite the attention on him, he makes to swipe the french toast off Pike’s plate before she dissarms him with her own fork.
“No - she’s just invested, alright? Won’t stop talking about that shitty day.” Scanlan shivers. “Not that I blame her - I’d be pretty fucked up, too.”
Pike hums in agreement. “Is the cat doing okay? You said her name was…?”
“Curio.” Percy takes a bracing sip of his coffee. “Recovering well from the surgery, seems eager to get out of her crate and stretch her legs. Those she has left, at least. I worry she will ruin the stitching if given that freedom, however.”
“Oy, here’s a thought-” “Manners.” Scanlan rolls his eyes, finishes chewing and swallows before continuing: ”Why don’t we stop by? I mean, you and Vex won’t shut up about these guys, and I don’t know about you guys but I could use some cute in my life. And chicks dig kitten pics.”
Percy hesitates.
So far, these kittens have been theirs. Vex’ahlia and Percival’s little charges, in their own little world. Sure, they had brought them to the vet, and Kaylie’s keen eye had saved Curio’s life. They certainly shared more than enough pictures and videos for all their friends to know many kittens by name.
But there is something about inviting others into this little nest that has a part of him bristling.
Grog tilts his head. “I’d like to,” he admits. “Wouldn’t it be good for them to, like, meet more people? Help them get more specialized.”
“Socialized, Grog.” Pike pats his knee.
Percy nudges Vex, who has been slipping into a food coma. She’s so exhausted it pains him to see. “Vex’ahlia, dear, what do you think?”
She stifles a yawn against her hand. “I don’t mind either way,” she admits. “If you guys do come over, though, keep it down - I think I’ll be having a nap, if that’s alright.”
Even the goliath of a man, all tattoos and muscle, seems to read the reluctance in Percy’s gaze. “I’ll be gentle with them,” he promises. “I can be real gentle with the little things.”
Percy sighs. Smiles. “That’s true, yes.”
--
“When we said little, I didn’t think - woah,” Grog breathes, eyes blown wide and enraptured by every little hair on the kittens’ heads. He and Pike are both on their knees peering into the playpen. Bleary from their nap, the litter is content to wiggle and chirp. Even the one in Scanlan’s hands is well-behaved.
“Hah! Look - he’s spitting at me.”
Or perhaps not, but that’s a perfectly reasonable reaction to Scanlan.
“She,” Percy corrects with a glance.
“Ohh, I like them spicy.” He only evades getting an elbow in the gut when Pike stops herself, clearly remembering the precious cargo he holds.
Having Scanlan for scale really puts into perspective just how small these kittens are - even in his hands they’re fragile, even without a tremor beneath them they wobble. Percy’s heart lurches in his chest when they move - but no, Scanlan’s just sitting more comfortably, with his back to the bed.
He offers a finger from his free hand for greeting. The verdict is ‘disgusting, I hate it’ until he scratches under that impossibly small chin. “What a cutie patootie. What’s her name?” asks Scanlan.
Pike, peering now over his shoulder, glances between Percy and the kitten. “That’s Bauble, right?” She beams when he nods, pleased they remembered.
“You can hold one, if you’d like,” Percy offers as Scanlan declares, “I’m gonna get Kaylie a kitten.”
“No - no, you’re not.” He swallows his snappy tone - half the kittens are sleeping, and so is Vex. “You can’t just give someone a lifelong commitment.”
Grog giggles - all head turn to find he’s stuck his hand in the playpen, where a curious Ratchet is clumsily batting at it while Screwdriver watches wide-eyed and hopelessly confused.
“Ain’t that what happened to you?” says Grog. “With Kaylie?”
Scanlan rolls his eyes. “I was joking. Wasn’t I?” He rubs his nose into Bauble’s fur. “Oh, wow, she smells like cuteness! And kind of milky?”
Percy relaxes a little as Pike leans over to get a good sniff of kittendown too, scooting into Scanlan’s side for a better angle to coo and cuddle.
That does bring up a thought he’s completely neglected up to date. The kittens are… goodness, not quite two weeks? Two more months and they’ll be old enough to adopt out. How in the hells is he going to find enough homes - good homes - for six kittens? And Curio, too. If matching a half-dozen cute, playful little cats will be a challenge, how will they possibly get someone willing to take on a disabled, probably traumatized adult cat?
He can practically feel his blood pressure spike. Percy carefully leans over the edge of the playpen to pluck Screwdriver (still watching Grog’s hand with something like awe) and settle her in his lap. His hands are shaking, but so is she, so it’s fine.
(What if they choose wrong? What if the owners can’t care for the needs of the shaky kittens? Gods, Screwdriver wobbles so much - what if she falls, what if they let her outside, what if -)
“Oop, gotta tinkle.” Percy’s hand jerks up to see Grog stand and dust off his hands. He coos when Ratched stumbles after him, mewling. “Aww, I’ll be back. Where’s the bathroom Percy?”
“It’s to the right, Buddies,” Pike says, delicately running her fingers from Bauble’s head to her little pointy tail. Scanlan’s eyes are on her, not the kitten, and he looks quite like the cat that got the cream.
“Thanks, Pikey!”
Screwdriver mimics his glance up at Grog, which - yeah, sweetheart, he is very big, hm? Percy makes sure to lavish her with extra pets for her bravery. There’s nothing to be scared of, it’s Grog.
And then Percy remembers, and scrambles to his feet, clutching her to his chest.
“Wait! Don’t go in the-”
He hears the bars of Curio’s crate rattle from here and breaches the doorway just in time to see Grog sheepishly shut the door behind him.
“Guess I’ll hold it in,” he says.
#posting thus between talks byeeee i know its been forever I've been BUSY#critical role#the legend of vox machina#tlovm#tlovm fanfic#critical role fanfiction#cr fanfic#perc'ahlia#percahlia#percival de rolo#cat's cradle au
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Even a spy needs a home (David Percival x reader)
author's note: oh god i am so happy with this one! i was in such a writer's slump and got so upset already because i did want to use some of my free time to write and now i created this! i really think it's my favourite thing i have ever written and i thought i'd share it, even if the fandom is like- super small? anyway! english (still) isn't my first language & all mistakes are mine. pictures are from pinterest <3
warnings: a lot of cursing and swear words, stitches (done unprofessionally), a tiny bit of spicy flirting
word count: around 1.5k
You let out a comfortable sigh as you wrapped the blanket closer around your body, more than ready to go to sleep. Things have been absolutely crazy, and you were convinced that sooner, rather than later, history would be forever changed. People have been protesting and somehow, the spirit was different than ever before. You were sure: a revolution was coming – the wall would fall. Soon.
The frantic knocking at your front door was what pulled you out of your thoughts.
“The fuck-“
It was already dark outside, and the only light was provided by your little lamp on the nightstand to your left. Visitors at this hour were never a good thing, especially because you weren’t expecting anyone. Nevertheless, it seemed urgent.
You pulled a sweater over your head as you walked to the door, trying to get rid of the shivers that spread through your body.
You couldn’t help but huff as you opened it a crack after unlocking it: “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Can I come in? Please, I am hurt and- I don’t know where else to go.”
You pressed your lips together and crossed your arms. “Come in? You got some fucking nerve even showing up here.”
The man across from you tilted his head. “I thought you’d be excited to see me.”
“Excited? After the thing you pulled off last time? Fuck off, David.”
He furrowed his brows. “What I- What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play coy”, you muttered as you pointed your finger at him, “I am not dumb.” A huff left your lips, “Well, now that I think about it, maybe I am. After all, I thought this was something special between us. You told me I was different from the rest. It’s my own fault I believed that.”
His eyes never left yours as he spoke up, “Y/N, you are special. Whatever happened, I am sorry, but I didn’t do it. You must believe me, please.” David grabbed onto the doorframe and rubbed the back of his neck with his other hand. “Let me come in and we can talk about this.”
“Talk? Sure. And then you’re gonna set me up again, sending God knows who after my ass.” You straightened your back. “I can’t fucking believe you. Who was it? MI6? KGB? Maybe even the Stasi?”
The spy’s eyes widened. “What? What the fuck are you talking about?”
You clenched your fists and took a deep breath. “I am talking about the men who busted down my door an hour after you left and who completely tore this place apart.” Suddenly, your sweater was not enough to keep the shivers away.
David’s demeanor changed. “Did they hurt you?” His voice dropped an octave, sounding almost threatening if you didn’t know him.
You shrugged, “They were a little rough when they grabbed me, but other than that-“ You shook your head.
He breathed out and fished a cigarette out of the pocket of his coat. “Fuck, angel, I- I would never do that, okay? I know, I talk a lot of shit, but I am serious about this. I care about you, I wouldn’t risk your safety, I swear.”
It was getting harder to pretend you didn’t miss him. “Then who would?”
David gritted his teeth and took a long drag from his cigarette. “Fucking Satchel. Found my only weak spot and-“ He shook his head. “I’ll take care of this, I promise, I-“ He stopped himself from leaning in to kiss you and instead grabbed his bags again, turning around on the spot to walk away.
“David?” He turned to face you again, raising his right eyebrow. “You can also take care of- whatever this is after a home cooked meal, a warm bath and a good amount of sleep.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you fully opened the door. “Come in.”
The agent let out a huge breath and briefly bowed his head before looking up at you again. “Thank you.”
You watched him silently as he walked into your living room, letting his bag fall to the floor before he sat down on your sofa while you hung up his coat.
He grinned at you when you stood across from him, first aid kit in your hands: “Is that my sweater you’re wearing?”
You looked down your body, internally cursing yourself for not checking what sweater you put on. You chose to ignore the heat in your cheeks. “You said you got hurt?”
David pursed his lips and rubbed his eyes. “My shoulder, it’s- it looks bad, but it just needs a few stitches, I think. Can you do that for me?”
Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “I can put a band aid on you and give you a pain killer, I cannot do stitches, David!”
He clicked his tongue. “I’ll guide you.”
And that’s exactly what he did. For the next forty-three minutes, the agent told you what to grab and how to use it. After removing his shirt and cleaning the wound, you got to work. “I’m sorry”, you whispered when you started to pierce through his skin, but he didn’t even flinch.
“It’s fine, angel, you’re doing great.”
The rest of the stitches were done in silence, and you finished the little patching up session with a kiss to his upper back. “All done. I’ll just put a bandage on you, yeah?” You didn’t even wait for an answer and simply followed through with your statement, letting your fingertips gently run down his back when you were done. “Can I run you a bath?”
“That depends”, David smirked, “Are you going to join me?”
And just like that, his smug and sassy usual self was back.
You shook your head with a smile, “No, I will fix you a plate of food. But you take all the time you need. There’s a blue towel you can use.”
He got up without a word, but not before he kissed your forehead and brushed through your hair. This interaction almost felt like- no. David Percival did not do relationships.
You didn’t know how much time had passed, but when David joined you in the kitchen, his hands weren’t stained with blood anymore and he looked almost peaceful, if a little tired.
You pointed to a chair at the table and watched him sit down before you put down a plate of casserole in front of him.
“It’s from yesterday which makes it taste even better”, you mused while you grabbed your cup of tea so you could sit down across from him. But David didn’t start eating. Instead, his gaze was fixed on you.
“I’m fucking horrible when it comes to this emotional stuff, but I need you to know that I do love you.” You opened your mouth to say something, only to close it again. “I never planned to love you, not like this.” David cleared his throat and leaned back against his chair. “You weren’t supposed to be more than just another lover, perfect to have some fun with every once in a while, but for fuck’s sake, it’s like your kindness corrupted me in the best way possible.”
Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, but he just kept going. “Your softness rubbed off on me and my heart.” David licked his lips. “You make me want to quit all of this shit, live a normal life.”
His hand carefully settled on top of yours as if he was afraid to touch you. “Even a spy needs a home, and you are mine. I want to hug you and kiss you and make you happy. Only you. No more one-night-stands, no more lies.”
His words had knocked the air out of your lungs and you were struggling to come up with something that could deliver your own emotions, so you did the only thing you knew he’d understand.
Your chair creaked as you stood up and you walked over to the British man, carefully sitting down in his lap. His hands settled on your hips like it was the most natural thing in the world, making you smile. You held your breath when you leaned even closer to him, your gaze flickering from his lips back to his piercing blue eyes.
“Welcome home, David”, you breathed and closed the gap between you with a gentle force. He hummed into the kiss and his grip on you tightened, making you dizzy with happiness.
Before things could get too heated though, you carefully brought some distance between the two of you and stood up. A whine escaped David’s lips and you chuckled, caressing his cheek. “You gotta eat first. Then we can continue this, love.”
“Lucky fucking me.”
You couldn’t help but laugh and sat back down in your own chair, watching the agent dig into the food. His eyes met yours.
“It’s good to finally be home.”
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reading thru ur tags, I felt the same way about cooking/baking and now that I feel comfortable trying new recipes, I feel the same about practicing with my cricut maker. it’s just kinda something to get over and push through till the end, especially if it’s food stuff or physical resources, and any practice or lesson you get from failing is lost if you don’t try.
sometimes you’ll just have to bite the bullet and make a few things you don’t like, it’s all part of learning. and if you like the idea of having homemade cupcakes or a new sweater or an original painting in your home, you’ll keep going till you get it right. whatever it is you’re learning, I hope you find the strength to continue 💕
I like to think I’m persistent in trying new things. I tried cross stitching for a brief moment, and hated the fuck out of it, but I said I have to at least finish something to show i did try.
Idk if thats really censored or not cause the tumblr preview is mosaic-ing the darn thing but i finished a lil thing and sent it to my friend. After testing, it has been confirmed, they hate cross stitching too.
Im still working on doing a tiny little needly felting thing, i had to stop because i bled everywhere, turns out i needed a special cushion to do that shit. But i kept the WIP and im not getting rid of it until that lil fucker is done.
idk why drawing is so hard for me to do now tho…i think its because ive been doing it for almost 2 decades now. Im getting old. And subconsciously my brain is like “you should have been a professional by now, give it up, bro” or “folks your age have already made something theyre proud of, whats yours?” And ya know typing that really stung just now.
thank you for your reply tho. Sincerely. I hope i get my epiphany/anime moment to get the motivation to save the world by making something, anything.
#I just want to make something fun. Not everything has to be that deep. Not everything needs a reason to exist#Speaking of baking i have tobe ina. Reall y good mood to ‘bake’ but i guess i gotta be ina. Really good mood to draw too#Kinda sucks. Because all ive been the past year is just null im existing without purpose and not the positive way#Im gonna make cake from a box for my birthday. Trying to make this special age s p e c i a l#I got myself candles and i want to have a big tray of mediterranean food all to myself#Treat myself day….even tho its a workday…so belated birthday treat yourself day
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