you’re going to love again, find a job again, create art again, do what you love again, feel powerful again. you’re going to be back on track. i don’t know when, but you are going to feel like yourself again, eventually. this isn’t the end. hang in there.
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i miss you 2012 avengers. i miss you the avengers tower. i miss you irondad and spiderson. i miss you meme lord shuri and peter. i miss you loki lingering in the tower for no other reason than that he's the main love interest. i miss you poptart-eating thor. i miss you grumpy bucky barnes. i miss you old man, chronically offline steve rogers. i miss you clint in the vents. i miss you girls night with wanda and natasha. i miss you resurrected, shamelessly flirty pietro. i miss you clueless, socially inept vision. i miss you the rare bruce banner feature. i miss you sassy sam wilson. i miss you cheeky reader who always called fury by his first name. i miss you super nanny phil coulson. i miss you christmas avengers blurbs in the middle of the fanfiction written by an autistic 14 year old. i miss you 😔😔😔
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do not forget the patron saint of these weeks that we celebrate ourselves proudly and openly in the streets
her name was Marsha P Johnson, and we have her to thank for so much.
remember, the first Pride was a riot, and she was one of the brave souls who endured it to help carve the path which so many of us walk today. she helped found several activist groups regarding LGBT safety and wellbeing. and she was absolutely radiant, too.
I’ve been seeing a lot of that trend on tiktok of “seeing is she melts into the kiss” and i was wondering if you could do that with nat? It could go however you want i’ve just had the idea stuck in my head since i saw it haha!
your writing is amazing, keep up the good work! :p
Melt
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
[A/N] Love this request, it's so cute ❤️ Thank you my lovely, hope you enjoy 😘
“Nat, can we try something?” Natasha looks up from her phone, giving you such a dark, suspicious look that you can’t help laughing. “It’ll only take like a couple of minutes.”
“Does it involve me getting up from the couch?”
“Yeah, but-”
“Then no.”
“Nat!” You laugh, nudging her with your foot. “It’ll literally only take like a couple of minutes.”
“This is something stupid, isn’t it?”
“Of course not. What would make you ask that?”
“You’re the one always asking dumb questions. Like whether I’d still love you if you were a worm.”
“I’m still waiting for an answer on that now that you mention it,” Natasha rolls her eyes and you grin, nudging her with your foot again. “Nat-”
“Do not ask me the worm question again.”
“Why are you so grumpy today, huh? Is that a question you can answer?”
“Because I’ve been home ten minutes and you’re already bothering me.”
You grin, never taking her grumpy attitude seriously. You’ve seen Natasha in a genuinely bad mood before and this definitely isn’t it. Natasha’s never in a bad mood around you even though she likes to pretend that she is. “In theory though… If I were a worm…”
Natasha groans loudly, glaring at you when you laugh. “You’re a pain in my ass. You know that?”
“Would you carry me around in a little wormy enclosure so I could still do all the things I like?”
“Like what?”
“Like going to the movies-”
“You want me to take, what, a box full of dirt and other worm things into the movie theatre?”
“Well yeah otherwise I might dry up and die if I was a worm. Then my death would be on your hands and you’d feel so guilty.”
Natasha glares at you again, “Don’t even joke about that.”
“If you took me to the compound you’d have to make sure one of the bigger Avengers didn’t crush me. Like Thor. You’d have to be careful where he put down Mjolnir.”
Natasha turns her attention back to her phone whilst you giggle at her pouty, irritated expression. Eventually Natasha lets out a long-suffering sigh “Fine. If you were a worm, I’d still love you. I’d carry you around in your stupid little worm enclosure so you could still do all the things that you like doing now. Happy?”
“You’d have to make sure no birds ate me.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“And don’t let any spiders near my little worm enclosure. They’re scary enough, let alone if we were around the same size.”
“Fine. Fucks sake… No spiders, no birds, still take you to the movie theatre. I got it.”
You grin “Now can we do that thing I wanted to do?”
Natasha groans again, rolling her eyes “What do you want to do?”
“I need you to stand up.”
“I told you, I’m not getting up from the couch.”
“And I told you it’ll only take a couple of minutes. Humour me?”
“I’m always humouring you and your nonsense.” Natasha whines as you stand up from the couch, taking her hands and pulling her up with you. She huffs as she stands in front of you “Fine. What are we doing?”
You stretch your arms out “Okay, do this.” Natasha rolls her eyes but copies you. “Awesome, now do this.” You put your hands in the air so Natasha does the same. "Perfect! Now just stay still for a minute."
You reach forward to put your hand on her cheek when she suddenly grabs your wrist “What are you doing?”
You burst out laughing at the alarmed look on Natasha’s face “What- Why did you-”
“Well what were you doing?”
“Nothing bad. Why did you freak out like that?”
“I don’t know, I thought maybe you were gonna tickle me or something.”
You laugh harder then grab Natasha’s hand as she goes to sit down again “Nat, I’m not- I’m not gonna tickle you, jeez. Just trust me, I wanna try something.”
“Tell me what you’re trying-”
“It won’t work if I tell you, just please trust me. I wouldn’t do anything bad. And even if I did you’d just beat my ass anyway.”
Natasha huffs but puts her hands up again and this time tries her best to suppress any flinches and the urge to grab your wrist. You put your hands on her cheeks and lean forward, kissing her. Natasha’s confused but it takes her less than a second to put her arms down, to wrap them around you and to pull you closer as she deepens the kiss. For a moment Natasha forgets all about your ‘annoying’ (secretly endearing) questions and just focuses on how it feels to hold you in her arms, and the feel of your lips against hers.
When you pull away you lean your forehead against hers “See… That was okay, right?”
“That… What exactly was that?”
“I wanted to see if you’d melt into the kiss. I took a video of it.”
Natasha groans, pulling out of your arms to flop back onto the couch “You were videoing me again? This is a dumb TokTok thing, isn’t it?”
“TikTok but I think you knew that and just enjoy deliberately misprouncing it,” You sit down next to her, grabbing your phone. “Don’t you wanna see? It’s a TikTok trend, the videos are really cute. And you melted into mine.”
Natasha rolls her eyes but adjusts her position when you press closer to her, wrapping an arm around you as you show her some videos of the trend and then the video of the two of you. Not that she’d ever admit it but it is a pretty cute video. You edit it to include the fact she initially pushed you away and Natasha can’t help smiling as you giggle again. She presses a kiss to your forehead. Even though she often calls you annoying she doesn’t actually think that you are. You’re hers, her favourite girl. And she loves you just the way you are.
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mr big scary let me ask my wife firelord who always has to run things by you not because you’re controlling or demanding but because he wants you to know what he’s doing, wants you to be included and wants you to approve of his decisions because when you’re happy, he’s happy.
“ fire lord zuko, the earth emissary would like to have a dinner. when is suitable for you?”
“let me ask my wife and i’ll get back to you.”
“lord zuko, the festival of fire is coming up, will you be in attendance?”
“not sure. let me ask my wife.”
“sir. the avatar has requested your help. will you be going to lend aid?”
“if my wife grants me permission, yes.”
“my wife said we need more opportunities for women in government. lets look into that.”
“i cannot attend that meeting. i have lunch plans with my wife.”
even when doing the most mundane and tedious things like new gowns or new stationery for royal decrees, you’re there to give your opinion.
“does my wife like it?”
“what does the firelady think?”
“ask my wife, she has the final say. whatever she wants, goes.”
big scary i worship the ground my wife walks on fire lord
Sicktember Day 11— Alternate: Gentle back/belly rubs— Daisy Johnson x gn!Reader
For anon requesting grumpy!reader x caretaker Daisy ❤️ Sorry it’s quite short, I’d love to expand on the idea in the future with a longer version!
Agent Grumpy
Every Agent on the base was counting down the days until Agent Daisy Johnson returned from her latest mission, and it had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with you, her girlfriend.
Normally, you’re a happy, easygoing Agent who loves your work and takes it seriously while also having fun sometimes. You love hanging out with your buddies on the base and are known for smiling at passing Agents, your laugh, which can be heard echoing in the halls, and the treats you like to bake for the base in your free time.
But unfortunately for you and everyone else, you’ve come down with an untimely cold, and the lack of your girlfriend while she’s away on mission means your mood plummeted the minute you started feeling off.
Word had quickly spread among your friends and other Agents to stay clear of you until she’s back, because you’ve been grumpy. So much so it’s bordering on mean and straight up unpleasant, but you’re sick, Daisy’s not there to hold you, and you feel shitty so you don’t have the energy to be nice even if you tried.
The thing is, for spies and agents, none of them could figure out why you’re so upset which made you even more annoyed. Mack had even dubbed you “Agent Grumpy” and the ridiculous name had caught on like wildfire, and you’re sure once you’re better, you’ll find it amusing, but you’re miserable and you want nothing more than for Daisy to be back.
She always takes such good care of you when you’re sick. She even does this neat trick with her powers where she’ll let out low frequency vibrations that help clear your congestion and ease your achy muscles.
But you get none of that now and so you’ve resulted to hiding out in your bunk while you wait for her to return, only leaving your room when you need to and being unusually snippy to anyone in your path.
Finally, after three days of wishing for nothing more than her soft voice and warm touch, and bordering two days of high fever, you hear when you’re momentarily in the kitchen from another Agent that she’s set to return this morning. You nearly drop your mug in relief, stumbling back to your room to wait.
The moment Daisy steps off the Quinjet, she can sense the energy in the base are off, though as she wanders through the halls, setting her stuff in her locker, giving Coulson a brief mission report, and grabbing herself some water from the fridge, she’s met with an overwhelming amount of relived looks and smiles as people pass her by. She’s pretty sure she even hear one newer Agent which “thank god” as they glanced at her.
With a crease in her brows, she ends up finding Hunter playing a video game in the lounge. He groans as he loses and nearly slams down the remote control but he perks up immediately when he notices her standing nearby.
“Blood hell, thank god you’re back.” He practically praises in his familiar dramatic air, though Daisy can tell he might not be exaggerating too much in this case.
“What’s going on, Hunter? Everyone’s acting all weird.” Daisy crosses her arms.
He hesitates for a moment before answering, “your partner, they’ve been pissed off for days. No one knows why. Even scarier than Bobbi that one.”
Daisy’s whole body reacts at his words, everything tensing with worry, her frown deepening as she immediately nods once, then turns on her heels and rushes to find you.
“Good luck with Agent Grumpy!” Hunter calls out from behind her, concerning her even more. Maybe no one else could figure it out, but she knows exactly what’s going on before she evens opens your bunk door to find you in bed, curled up under the covers, shivering with fever.
“Oh, love.” She hums softly, and you shift a little as she sits carefully on the bed beside you.
Blinking up at her with a glassy, tired gaze, for a moment you almost think she’s another fever dream, but then she reaches out and places her hand to your forehead and the remarkable coolness convinces you she’s real.
“Dais?” You rasp, voice gravely and painful, thick with congestion.
The Inhuman’s heart breaks and softens all at once. She immediately slips in under the covers besides you, tugging you close to her chest as you cough weakly against her shirt. “Yeah, babe. It’s me. I’m here now.”
You hum contentedly even though you’re more than miserable and you can feel all the tension and grumpiness from the past few days already dissipating as you burrow your face into her neck and she wraps her arms securely and sure around you.
“You’re reall sick, huh?” She murmurs in your ear even though the answer is completely clear. You only hold her closer.
“Everythin’ hurdts.” You mumble against her, feeling Daisy sigh softly in sympathy.
“Then let’s get you feeling better. I’ve got you now, love. You don’t have to do anything best rest now.”
You let your eyes flutter closed at the sound of her voice and within moments, she’s vibrating ever so lightly, the perfect frequency to soothe all your fevered aches and pains without you even needing to ask her to. She just knows.
And that’s how you finally drift off, with her gently running her hand along your back and whispering with a hint of amusement in her tone along with pure tenderness, “I love you, Agent Grumpy, moodiness and all. You’re mine.”
"'Brr, it's cold in here, there must be some Toros in the atmosphere'? I know you don't think a white girl made that shit up. Our free cheer service is over as of this moment."
Favorite Characters in Television & Film: Gabrielle Union as Isis in Bring It On (2000) dir. Peyton Reed
Requested by anon: When Maria runs her hands through your hair to calm you down and rubs your back? 🥺 Good old fluff where your tired and Maria lays your head on her knee stroking your hair. 🥺🙂 Maria’s trying to find reader then sees her working until midnight and Maria just looks sadly at her and comforts her. I’m a wittle depressed :) pls help
A/N: anon, you need to take care of yourself and this is a threat
Maria Hill Masterlist
There should be a word for being so tired you aren’t sane anymore. If there was such a word, it would describe you perfectly.
Fury had decided to assign you to cover at least five compensations for missions. Each one took you over an hour, you’d barely gotten through three when you realized it was already 11:39 and your girlfriend was still out on a mission.
“She was supposed to come home sooner.” You muttered into your fifth cup of coffee, writing down values for the Range Rover an agent wrecked during a car chase.
You rubbed your eyes, forcing yourself awake as you continued. The pen you had been using ran out, you threw it angrily against the wall and took out another pen, writing with it before searching up more values.
In the middle of your work, you didn’t notice your front door opening and someone stepping in. You continued scribbling down values, dark circles under your bloodshot eyes highlighted by the lamp on your desk. Your body was slumped as you leaned your head on one hand.
Maria came into the room, frowning when she saw the light was still on at midnight. She saw you overworking yourself, rubbing your eyes every once in a while to prevent them from closing. You were the love of her life, but you needed to stop overworking yourself.
“Hey,” She greeted softly, resting one hand in the middle of your upper back, you flinched away violently and turned to face her.
“Oh, it’s you,” You breathed a sigh of relief, giving her the best smile you could before returning to your work, but the brunette easily took your pen away.
“I need to finish this babe,” You muttered, trying to take another pen out of the drawer which Maria shut.
“You need to sleep, come on.” She gestured to your shared bed, you looked at it longingly before sighing.
“I will lemme finish this, you can go shower meanwhile.” You negotiated, trying to smile up at her.
Maria sighed and caved, she kissed your forehead gently, you melted into her touch. The brunette took some clothes from the closet to take a quick shower. You sighed and continued the last compensation, the noise of the shower distracting you from your tired state.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-
A hand on your shoulder woke you, you lifted your head off of your arm and groggily waved the pen in front of you to fend off whoever it was. Maria laughed sadly at your sleep ridden state before taking the pen away and placing it on the table. You looked up at her through droopy eyelids, she ran a hand gently through your hair
You relaxed instantly and let her pick you up and gently drop you on your side of the bed. She pulled you up to the headboard gently and laid your head in her lap. You smiled sleepily up at the brunette as she ran her hands through your hair.
“Thank you,” You whispered, voice laced with sleep. Maria chuckled softly, wiping the hair out of your face as her eyes glinted in the soft moonlight.
“Anytime, never let me catch you overworking yourself again.” She chastised gently, you gave her a sleepy wink.
“No promises.” You smirked, she laughed and flicked the top of your shoulder.
“Sleep,” She instructed, you shrugged and let exhaustion slowly drag you to sleep.
You fell asleep as Maria moved to hold you in her arms as she fell asleep, she shushed you when she felt you start to wake up.
“Love you.” You whispered automatically. Maria instantly grinned when the words tumbled from your mouth, she kissed the back of your neck.
“I love you too, idiot.” She murmured in the back of your neck, feeling you chuckle softly as you fell asleep, even if you were the love of her life, you needed to take care of yourself better.
Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @5aftermidnight, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @marvelbbyx , @wlw-imaginesss , @hcartbyheart let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!
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the idea of long distance friends is actually really sweet. i love you despite distance and time zones. you’re across the country but you’re still the person i wanna share everything with. it’s really nice to have someone you connect with so much that against all odds you’re still my best friend <3
"You wanna go out to dinner tonight? Know I've been busy this week. Feel like I've barely seen you." Jordan mutters against the shell of your ear. You shiver as he gives the skin a teasing kiss.
Already you're pouting, knowing what your answer has to be even though you wish so desperately that you could give a different response. "Wish I could, Jordan. But my night is already spoken for."
You're spun around by a hand on your hip, playful and fast so that you can't stop yourself from falling into his chest. Your hands grip his jacket for balance, and he reaches up to hold one of them with his own. "You got plans? With who? Cate? Cancel them."
"Brat." You laugh.
How demanding Jordan is would be less cute if they ever asked you to do something they themselves wouldn't. As it stands, with the way they do anything you ask at the drop of a hat, all you can do is roll your eyes and pretend to be exasperated instead of smitten.
"Fine, don't cancel. I'll just come with." Jordan sighs, as if seeing his best friend is a great tragedy (Which it is. Cate being there means you'll smack Jordan's hand away when he tries to sneak it up your skirt at dinner.)
"What if we want a girls' night?" You shoot back, grinning.
Jordan shifts. The hands on your waist are smaller now, but pull you in closer, "You're the one who's feeling bratty. Really have been neglecting you this week, huh baby?" Jordan smirks, in that condescending way she does when she realizes you're trying to get a certain reaction out of her.
"The plans aren't with Cate, and they aren't cancellable." You sigh, deciding not to rise to the bait of her tone, smirk, or the little circles she's rubbing into your skin.
"What are these oh so important plans?" Jordan asks.
"Do you know how many white boys have complimented my hair today, Jordan?" You ask.
"Pardon?" Jordan blinks at what seems to be a completely unrelated topic.
"Six! Six white boys complimented my braids today. I'm about to kill myself, if we're being honest. I must looked fucked up, and you didn't even say anything." You pout.
You've been having a bit of a rough day, to say the least.
"You look beautiful. What are you talking about?" Jordan asks, confused but nonetheless, wanting to make you feel better. "If you didn't look good I'd very politely... have Cate tell you. But you look great! You've been getting compliments all day, you just said it yourself!"
"Wow, you'd throw Cate under the bus, huh coward?"
"Cate isn't interested in making out with you every spare second of the day. I am. You can be mad at her. I've got stuff I wanna do." Jordan's grin is downright salacious. You smack her arm, trying not to smile.
"Ah. You are operating under the same delusions of the white man. I see that now, I'll let go of the anger." You say, sighing and kissing Jordan on the cheek.
"First of all, don't you ever fucking insult me like that again.... Second of all, what particular delusion am I sharing with the white man?" Jordan asks.
"White men only compliment a black woman's hairstyle at two points in time. When it's brand spanking, fresh off the lot new. Or when it's started to look like shit. I've had these braids in for longer than... is your business. So guess which compliment I'm getting right now?"
"I fucking refuse to say your hair looks like shit, and this conversation feels like a trap. You're always beautiful to me." Jordan says.
"Thank you, baby. But we live on a campus where the diversity win photographers lurk around every corner trying to get pictures of 'The Diversity Win Couple' in our most natural state. I need to take out my braids tonight before I talk crazy in the group chat, and Andre sends me a 'this you?' pic that will devastate my argument." You shake your head somberly, already imagining the fate that lies before you.
"You could stop talking crazy in the group chat." Jordan teases.
"You know damn well I'm not capable of that."
The two of you burst into laughter, unable to keep it together. Jordan has always been obsessed with how easy it is for you to make them laugh.
"Is that gonna take up your whole night, though, baby? We don't have to go to dinner early! We'll go wherever you want." Jordan insists, tone bordering on begging.
Whenever they come out of a particularly busy week, they spend the next two weeks glued to you. As if to make up for it. The clinginess is a stark difference from how they acted before you made things official.
"Jordan, look at the braids on my head."
"I'm looking at them."
"Are you seeing them with your eyes?"
"Yes, and my eyes are sending the image to my brain, which I assure you is working. What's your point here, baby?"
"How long do you think it will take me to undo these, detangle my hair, wash it, deep condition it, and then wash it again?"
Jordan squints at you for a long moment, analyzing your hairstyle and the utter displeasure on your face. "I dunno? Maybe... four hours?"
"I should fucking murder you. Just for that, you're helping me with wash day now."
Jordan's face breaks into a grin like sunlight breaking through clouds, "So I do get to spend the day with you, is what you're saying?"
"Yeah, baby, you get to spend the day with me." You click your tongue at them. Pitying them for the ache in their fingers they're about to feel. They complain about curling their God damn hair a couple of times a week. You suspect you'll be ready to kill one another by hour two.
But you also missed them a lot. Or whatever.
"Don't cut too high up, Jordie. " You whine, shifting his grip lower on your braid, to an acceptable cutting length of the hair extension.
"Baby... can I ask you a very serious question right now?" Jordan hums, obediently cutting where you instructed.
"What?" You ask, already starting to unbraid the piece.
"How... long... do you think your hair is?" Jordan, to be fair to him, does ask the question quietly and with the proper amount of hesitation.
"How dare you! Are you calling me bald?" You gasp, stifling a laugh.
"Don't do this to me. You are prolonging the process. We can cut these braids at least four inches higher than what we're doing right now." Jordan says, you can't see his face but you can tell he's also trying not to laugh. Bastard.
"My hair grew!"
"From the top of your head. It did not magically lower itself further into the fucking braid extension." Jordan loses the battle and laughs.
"Jordan Li do not fucking cut off any of my hair or I'll cry and then blow up this school."
"Of course, princess." Jordan kisses the top of your head and gives in to your terrorist demands because you're cute.
"So how am I supposed to do it, baby?" Jordan claps her hands and you smile at how eager she sounds to help.
"You're gonna want to section it off. Do like... eight parts of hair. That'll make literally every step after this easier. Then you're gonna comb the hair from the bottom, 'kay?"
"Got it."
Jordan starts the process of parting your hair, careful and slow. Fingers sectioning off eight chunks of hair that she keeps apart with the silky hair ties you hand her over your shoulder.
"You sure you don't want me to comb it, Jordie?" You ask Jordan.
"I'll be gentle, don't worry. You always say your shoulders hurt at the end of wash day. Which is crazy, because I've seen what you can bench. I've got you, baby." She spritzes extra detangler spray on each of the parts she just made.
You move around slightly, a little sore already from sitting still between her legs for so long, but smiling to yourself nonetheless. A pillow is suddenly shoved into your face and you lean away, confused.
"Sit on this one instead. It'll be better." Jordan says.
You switch out the pillows and tilt your head back to look at her. "Why're you always right? Is that your kink?"
"No, my kink is bossing you around." Jordan smirks and leans down to give you a kiss. Despite the awkward angle you can't help trying to deepen the contact. The feeling of her soft lips sliding against yours, firm but gentle, is always irresistible.
She hums and gives you a playful nip before pulling away. "Don't start something we can't finish."
"Who says we can't?" You shoot back, staring up at her.
"You will be pissed an hour from now if you glance at your phone and we haven't made any progress." Jordan runs her thumb along your bottom lip before pushing your head forward.
"Who says it will take an hour?"
"I do. If we start, I'm not stopping." Jordan's voice dips seductively and a line of tension runs up the length of your spine.
You smack her thigh for teasing you, "Shut up."
"Is this comfortable?" Jordan frowns, staring at the angle your head has to be at to fit in the bowl of the sink.
"No, but this is the best angle this chair can get me to." You say. Usually you just wash in the shower, but since Jordan is helping the sink makes more sense.
Jordan stands, scowling at how uncomfortable you seem. Suddenly he grins, "Baby! Make a chair with your shields. Something that leans."
You were getting a lot better with being able to make complex shapes, with less concentration. You stand up from the chair you'd dragged from the common room. Jordan pulls it out of the way and gives you an encouraging thumbs up.
It takes you a minute, but you conjure a shield that resembles a salon chair and the both of you let out identical cries of delight.
Jordan pushes you to sit down with a kiss on your forehead. "That's my fucking girl. Tell me if the temperature is too hot."
Jordan washes your hair with the perfect amount of pressure and thoroughness. He's nearly rhythmic in his methodical cleaning. You didn't realize your eyes had fluttered closed until you hear him laugh. You open one eye to glare at him playfully, knowing he won't get soap in them.
"What's so funny?"
"You're like a cat. You gonna purr for me, baby?" He smirks.
"If you keep going like that, yeah. Or I'll fall asleep. Please don't make me fall asleep. I'll fall on my ass." You say.
"I'll endeavor to make the rest of the wash as unpleasant as possible."
He does not do that. And at one point you do fall asleep. Jordan catches you before you can actually fall. 'Thank God for Supe reflexes', you both think. You spend the rest of the wash with your eyes wide open and Jordan laughing at you.
"Did we put too much?" Jordan asks, dabbing at another drip of oil and conditioner down your brow.
"No, this is typical. The hair has to be saturated. It's dripping because the oil is you know... getting hot and even more liquid-y." You say, eyeing the episode of Property Brother's you'd both decided on. "Hm. I think that woman should be put to death."
Jordan was keeping vigilant about dabbing at the sides of your face. You'd been in charge of one side, at first. But Jordan seemed to have a sixth sense for when the other side was dripping as well, and kept interrupting you before you could get to any trickles of oil. You'd given up and just started narrating the show for her as she wasn't taking her eyes off the line of your brow.
"Why? What did she do?" Jordan dabs again.
"She wants to put up a fence that blocks the view of the historical house that she did not have to buy if she wanted a fence so bad." You roll your eyes.
"Is the city gonna let her?"
"No."
"Haha. 500k down the drain." Jordan cackles.
"Anti-gentrification win!" You hold out your fist for a fist-bump and Jordan obediently obliges, oil soaked rag still held in her fist.
A comfortable silence falls over you two, besides the noise of the portable hair dryer.
"I really think we put too much, baby." Jordan mutters, dabbing again.
"I have been doing this since I was twelve, Jordan!"
"Play the video again, one speed slower this time." Jordan's eyes are glued to your phone.
You're sitting between his legs again, cushioned by the (superior) pillow of his choosing. You were trying to decide on a simple hair style when Jordan saw a picture of Mini Twists and got excited to see you in them.
("You've already seen me in mini twists, Jordie. What are you talking about?"
"You weren't my girlfriend the last time you wore them though! Now you are, and I get to look at you as much as I want."
So that had decided that.)
"Okay, I think I got it. 'M gonna start with a braid base, without making the parts too big, then start twisting the hair with two strands, and that will make it last longer, right?"
"Right." You smile at how focused Jordan sounds.
They're hot when they're in the zone. You just didn't think they'd get so into helping you with your hair. But you should have known, really. Acts of service paired with their inner perfectionist? You're completely relaxed at this point. You know Jordan won't have you walking out of your room looking crazy, come hell or high water.
"Is this okay?" Jordan shows you a picture of the back of your head, three rows of twists done.
You gasp, snatching the phone, "That's my head?"
"Uh... yes?" Jordan answers slowly.
"The back of my head? The head on my body?"
"Should I start over?"
"Fuck you! These are almost better than mine. Who's hair are you playing around in when I'm not here, Jordan LI?"
"Stop using my fucking government name." Jordan tilts your head back to look at him with a gentle grip on your neck, grinning down at you. "You play too fucking much. You sure they're good, princess? It's okay if I need to redo them."
"I'm gonna give you orgasms that will make you lose brain cells."
"Baby!" Jordan laughs, rolling his eyes. "I'm serious. Do any of them need redoing?"
"The first row is really fucking good for a beginner but the second row is damn near perfect." You say.
"I'll redo the first row then." Jordan kisses your temple before moving you to face forward again.
"I said they were good!" You protest.
"But the second row is better. I want the whole thing to look good. Don't want you feeling self conscious cause I fucked up the style, y'know." Jordan mumbles.
You tilt your head back to look at him, ignoring him sucking his teeth (a habit he picked up from you) at you moving.
"I love you, Jordie. Thank you for helping me today." You coo.
You watch his face go red with a grin. He grins back, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss. When he tries to pull away too soon you whine, holding him close by the hair at the nape of his neck.
"Wanna kiss you. You're sweet." You breathe the words against his lips, insistently continuing the caress.
He sighs, smitten, and let's you lead for a moment. Hand finding it's way back to your neck and tightening just enough to make you gasp. Still, he pulls away too quickly.
"I'm gonna fuck you up." You scowl at him.
"The only thing you're gonna fuck up is your neck, brat. This is a horrible angle for you." Jordan's smile is so soft at the edges it's your turn to blush.
"Speak for yourself."
"No, I'm too busy speaking on behalf of your neck."
"Well, I'm speaking on behalf of my-"
"Pussy?"
"I was going to say raging hormones but that's a lot more to the point, yeah. Or maybe I was going to say something romantic. You ever think of that, Jordie? Huh?"
"Were you going to say something romantic?" Jordan hums.
"No."
"Let me do your hair in peace." Jordan turns you forward again with a laugh.
"Turn this way." Jordan instructs, snapping another picture.
"I don't know whether you're worse than an Instagram hair stylist or a Mom." You ponder, words barely audible because your girlfriend is scary.
"Shut up and smile." Jordan scowls.
As if engraved into your genetic code the words make you do just that. You suffer through another 20 pictures being taken before you say enough is enough.
Jordan happily shows you the pictures, as if you hadn't seen yourself in the mirror just a minute ago. Or ever. The grin on her face so wide it looks like it hurts.
"You like it, baby?" Jordan asks again.
"It looks so good, Jordie. It looks like I paid someone honestly."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." You drape your arms around her shoulders. "How's this angle?"
"For what?" Jordan tilts her head to the side, puzzled.
"For kissing. Since you were so worried about the angle before."
Jordan scoffs, but she's the one to pull you in. She doesn't pull away this time.
A/N: i needed reader to have a goofball vibe because i have a goofball vibe. if you enjoyed this fic consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anonymous ask saying you enjoyed it! a writers fuel is engagement. if you really loved this, check out my PATREON: slasherscream, for some exclusive content. xoxoxo