Summary: Asking your partner to choose a number between 1 to 50, but little do they know a surprise awaits!
Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Blade x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Established Relationship, Light Hearted, Playful Banter, Romance, Intimacy (Kissing).
A/N: HOPE YOU LOVE IT!! 🫶💖
[First req]
Dan Heng
You sat across from Dan Heng in the tranquil ambiance of the Astral Express, the gentle hum of the engine offering a sense of calm. “Pick a number between 1 to 50.” you said, a playful smile dancing on your lips.
“Why do you want me to do that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, a mix of curiosity and caution in his voice.
“No reason at all. Just indulge me,” you replied, your eyes sparkling with mischief.
After a moment's hesitation, he sighed, “22.”
With a teasing grin, you leaned closer, whispering, “Okay, here we go.” You pressed your lips against his cheek, counting softly—one, two, three… His cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his growing discomfort mixed with delight.
When you reached twenty-two, you paused, gazing into his eyes. “Was that so bad?” you teased.
Dan Heng let out a small sigh, a hint of a smile gracing his lips. “Perhaps not...” he admitted, the warmth of your kisses lingering between you.
Blade
In the dimly lit hideout, Blade leaned against the wall, a rare stillness enveloping you both. “Pick a number between 1 and 50.” you suggested, mischief glimmering in your eyes.
He regarded you skeptically, arms crossed. “What’s the catch?”
“None. Just play along.”
After a moment of contemplation, he shrugged. “Fine. I’ll pick… 17.”
With a grin, you stepped closer, your heart racing with excitement. You pressed your lips against his, counting softly—one, two, three… His eyes widened in surprise, the hardened edges of his demeanor softening with each kiss.
By the time you reached seventeen, he pulled you close, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, his hands firm on your waist. “You shouldn’t toy with a weapon.” he murmured, his smirk revealing how much he enjoyed the playful banter.
Aventurine
Aventurine sprawled on the couch, casually flipping through a magazine, his eyes sparkling with mischief. You plopped down beside him, nudging him playfully. “Pick a number between 1 and 50!”
He looked up, intrigued. “Why should I?”
“Because I said so! Just trust me.”
“Fine, let’s go with… 29.”
With a confident grin, you leaned in, capturing his attention. You pressed your lips against his, counting softly—one, two, three…
As you reached twenty-nine, Aventurine chuckled, his playful demeanor shining through. “You’re quite bold, aren’t you?”
You winked, a teasing glint in your eyes. “You’ll have to keep up.”
He leaned in closer, his admiration evident. “I always do, love. Always.”
For I Think I Still Love You (Do You Mind) (12/16)
Later chapter contains brief, Teen-rated interactions; read with caution if at work.
On AO3
The rest of the day passes more quickly than Leonard expects; the information from Barry and his crew occupies his mind fairly effectively.
On the one hand, it’s actually rather simple. He’s only got to deal with this waiting for a few more days. He doesn’t need to fight against himself, which is probably a good thing since he’s out of practice and doesn’t have his gun. He just needs to get closer to his other self, and he knows when he needs to do it.
He just isn’t sure how to tip the odds in his favor when the weapon is the strength of his temporal vibration.
It’s easier when he thinks of him and his opposing self as separate timelines. What’s stronger for a timeline? Assuming stability isn’t a factor, since he can’t do anything about that, two things come to mind: the people and emotions in it. A timeline doesn’t want anything on its own, but the people in it certainly can.
If he’s being optimistic–and he has to be, or else he knows he’ll run, and to hell with the consequences–he has to believe the universe itself is on his side. His presence is what’s slowing the other timeline. He’s never gotten an answer for why he’s here, but it makes sense now, in its way; he was tied into all of time when he died, and time needed him here to keep from breaking.
By the time Sara shows up, he’s come to terms with it, as best as he can. He figures the best chance he’s got is to enjoy these next few days, potentially his last, to cling to this timeline as well as he’s able.
He hasn’t figured out whether to actually tell Sara. He can’t see any good coming out of it; as little as he can do, she can do even less, and she can’t be distracted if she encounters the other Leonard again.
And he can tell by her expression that she already has, the way she checks him over again, making sure he’s okay, when to the best of her knowledge, he’s been here, safe, all day.
He opens the door wide and jerks his head toward the bedroom.
They’re quiet until they’re both seated against his headboard. Neither of them gets under the covers, knowing they need to talk more than they need to sleep. Leonard sees Sara’s hand twitch like she wants to reach for him, but she’s otherwise still. Their bodies are inches apart, their feet nearly touching. Sara’s wearing her leggings-and-t-shirt combo, and he’s in shirt and boxers, and it would take seconds to get past all the crap and strip each other bare.
Instead, he waits for her to speak, the air growing more charged as each moment passes.
“We ran into them again today,” Sara says finally, and Leonard turns to meet her eyes, which are already focused on him. “The team went after Merlyn and Darhk, and I ended up alone with… with Cold.”
While she doesn’t exactly sound relaxed or happy, she’s not as upset as she was the night before.
“What happened?” he prompts.
“We talked.” She wrinkles her nose, like she can’t believe it any more than he can. “In a lot of ways, he’s still you. I mean, obviously, since he actually is. But he’s so different that it’s impossible to forget that he’s not my–" Sara stops short, but he knows how the sentence was going to end.
And he is, he knows, hers, in so many ways.
"He wasn't your version of me," he says quietly, and he hears her breath hitch as she searches his eyes.
"Yeah." Neither of them breathes until she looks away. “He’s had… I know your time since you got on the Waverider hasn’t been easy or anything, but he’s had it so much worse, and he seems lost and angry.”
Leonard’s very familiar with those emotions.
Sara continues. “He wanted to know what you were like, and how you were with the team. When I mentioned Lisa…” Sara looks up at him, and her eyes are damp, and Leonard shakes his head almost involuntarily.
“No,” he says, and she reaches over, taking the hand in his lap and clutching it tightly.
“He left with the Legion right before your dad used her as leverage. When he couldn’t find you–him–he just…”
He makes an effort to relax his grip on Sara’s hand, which has to have hurt, but she’s made no attempt to pull away or shown any signs of discomfort.
“The first thing he did when he found out was go kill Lewis, so that much is the same, at least, but even that was worse. It wasn’t a clean kill.”
It wouldn’t have been, either, not if Lewis had murdered Lisa.
He has to erase the other timeline. That one absolutely cannot be the one that becomes permanent. It’s not just his life that depends on his being the winner in whatever showdown lies ahead. It’s Lisa’s. It’s the safety of his team, of Sara, because he knows they aren’t going to let the other version of him just continue with the mayhem, as understandable as that Leonard’s hate might be.
Potentially, the whole world is on Leonard’s shoulders again, only this time, he has to survive. There’s not another option.
He can’t dwell on the possibility of losing. There’s too much at stake, too much to lose whether the world ends or just continues without him.
Sara squeezes his hand, drawing his attention back to her. She’s watching him with far too much sympathy, but there’s also more, that more that’s always there lately. He can’t ignore it, doesn’t want to. Leonard can’t find the words to tell her he feels the same, to tell her she’s his anchor and the only reason he hasn’t lost his mind. He’s not sure he could force the words out, even if he knew what he needed to say, with his emotions so tangled right now.
He can’t tell her, but maybe he can show her. And it won’t be a goodbye this time; he refuses to let it be. It’s not about the fact that their time might be up in three days or the consequences if he fails.
It’s about him and her, and the fact that any future he might have needs to have both of them in it. It’s about how they make each other better, and this can only add to it, not detract from it. It’s about want and need and hope, and that in reaction to whatever’s on his face, her sympathy has faded to be replaced with desire.
He relaxes his hand and shifts it, and her fingers lace with his immediately, her grip strong and unhesitating. He sits straighter, his back off the headboard so he can twist to face her better, and she does the same.
“Should we…” Sara’s voice is almost a whisper. “We can wait, if now isn’t…”
Leonard shakes his head and reaches out a careful hand. She presses into his touch as he slides his fingers across her cheek, until his hands are in her hair, her face resting in his palm. Her mouth opens ever-so-slightly as he leans forward and captures her lips with his.
Technically, it’s their second kiss, and in some ways, this is familiar: her lips are as soft as he remembers, and they fit against his as perfectly as they did the last time. However, last time, it was so clearly a goodbye, and he couldn’t move, couldn’t really respond, couldn’t spend the eternity he wanted.
He makes up for it this time. He tastes, he touches, he lingers. His free hand finds its way just under her shirt, and she clutches his shirt as she pulls him closer to her, and when she finally pulls back, panting, she’s blinking up at him and looking just as stunned as he feels.
“Are we…” she starts, eyes running over him before locking back on to his.
“If you want,” he answers.
He holds his breath when she lets go of him, but he finds it again when she moves her hands to the bottom of his shirt before pulling it off him, with his help. She studies him, with her touch as much as her eyes, running her hands over skin and scars like she’s trying to memorize him. After a few minutes, her shirt joins his on the floor, and he does the same, mapping her torso while her tiny inhalations are seared into his mind.
They kiss again, skin against skin, and any half-formed desire to take it slow dissipates along with the intoxicating friction between them. Before he knows it, she’s calling his name as his world explodes and reforms, and as she collapses against him, all he can think is that this is how they were always supposed to be.
***
Leonard doesn’t actually mean to fall asleep. He wakes, sometime in the early morning hours, before the sun has considered rising; it’s dark, and Sara must have turned off the light. She’s curled into his side, and there’s nothing between them. He presses a kiss to her forehead because he can, and she stirs.
“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he mumbles.
She shakes her head. “It’s fine.” She reaches out and traces the lines of his face before moving so that she can kiss him. It’s soft and lingering, and so is what follows, almost a reverent worship of one another in the dark.
***
Sara can’t quite fall back to sleep after their second time, so she studies Leonard instead.
Today had been hard, less for herself and more for what Captain Cold’s revelations meant for Leonard. Cold had threatened her only half-heartedly this time, but seeing his anger and hatred when he talked about what happened with Lisa had been rough.
Telling Leonard was nearly impossible, but she knew he had to know. He’ll do anything for his sister, always has, and she needs him to survive this. She doesn’t know what’s going to happen, how the two timelines can possibly resolve right, but she knows that if either she or her Leonard have anything to do with it, it'll all work out.
She didn’t think tonight was going to be the right time for everything they did after the talking stopped, but when it came to it, she wanted him, needed him, even, and she doesn’t regret it in the slightest.
After a few minutes, his eyes open, just a crack.
“You’re staring,” he says, his voice thick with sleep.
“Do you mind?” she asks, and his lips pull up into a little smile.
“Not particularly.” He yawns and rolls to face her. “Something on your mind?”
“You,” she answers honestly. “Us.” He nods and lets the silence rest between them until she continues. “I’m glad we did this.”
“So am I.” He slides his hand along her arm before lacing his fingers with hers.
“I know things might get messy,” she says, “with everything else that’s going on, and it’s good to have a part of all this that’s ours, you know?” He nods again. “Plus, now I really can tell the team I’m getting laid when I stay out all night.”
Leonard smirks before leaning forward to kiss her. The kiss is probably too short, but it suits their sleepy movements.
“Just don’t let Mick hear you,” he says, “or we’ll never hear the end of it.”
Sara huffs. “Good call.” They continue watching each other, and some of the ease fades as her mind forces the real world back in. “I need you to be okay,” she tells him.
He doesn’t say anything, but she knows he gets it, knows he feels the same. He tugs on her hand, and she rolls so that her back is against his front. He wraps an arm around her, and she feels any remaining tension leave her.
It doesn’t matter that their world could fall apart any day now.
Being here, with him, their guards down enough to be like this, is more than she ever thought she’d get. It’s everything, and while it doesn’t make everything perfect, she knows nothing could make her forget how she feels in this moment.
The mmorning after, aventurine just looking at reader who is still sleeping, admiring them (and the love bites he left behind) and wondering how he got so lucky to have someone like them in his life.
Bonus points if reader when they wake up, they reach out to hold his face or ruffle his hair and sleeply call him by his real name
“You are the Reason”
Summary: In a tender morning scene, Aventurine, lies in bed with his partner, watching them sleep. As dawn light filters through the curtains, he reflects on the intimate moments they've shared and the vulnerability he feels in their presence. Their quiet exchange reveals the depth of their connection with Aventurine struggling between his chaotic life as a gambler and the desire for peace and permanence he finds in love.
Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Vulnerability, Redemption, Emotional Connection, You make him want to keep living 🫶, Healing, Morning Scene, Intimate.
Warnings: Mild Intimacy, Brief mention of character trauma.
A/N: HEHE!! 🤭 THIS WAS SO CUTEEE AND HONESTLY I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN!!
Inspired by and this
The dawn was soft and pale, casting delicate rays that slowly seeped through the heavy curtains. It painted the room in a golden haze, warming the shadows and quietly coaxing the world awake. Yet in the bed, wrapped in sheets and tangled with you, Aventurine had no desire to leave the comfort of your embrace. He lay beside you, propped up on one elbow, quietly admiring the sight of you at rest.
His fingers absentmindedly traced along your shoulder, his touch featherlight as he brushed over the faint love bites dotting your skin. Each mark was a reminder of the intensity they had shared, moments that lingered like a secret between you both, whispers only the two of you would understand. His gaze softened, drinking in every inch of you, from the way your hair spilled across the pillow to the peaceful rise and fall of your chest as you breathed.
For Aventurine, life had always been a gamble, a calculated series of moves and maneuvers. He had won and lost fortunes, outwitted powerful enemies, and survived odds that no one else would dare to wager on. But none of that prepared him for the risk of letting someone into his life like this—of allowing himself to be vulnerable and open. And yet, with you, it felt effortless.
He’d never thought he’d be someone who’d lie in bed simply to watch another person sleep. The irony of it was almost amusing. This was supposed to be his time for scheming, his time for planning the next strategic move. But in your presence, those plans faded into the background, dwarfed by the warmth that filled him as he gazed at you. You brought out something in him he didn’t quite recognize—a part that longed for a sense of peace and permanence in an otherwise chaotic world.
Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the subtle shift in your breathing as you began to stir. You turned toward him, eyes slowly blinking open, still heavy with sleep. He couldn’t help but smile as you looked up at him, an endearing mix of confusion and affection in your drowsy gaze. Without a word, you reached up, brushing your fingers gently against his cheek, as if to make sure he was really there.
“Kakavasha…” you murmured, barely above a whisper, using the name he rarely allowed anyone to utter. Hearing his true name, the one he kept hidden beneath the layers of his public persona, stirred something deep within him. For a man who wore masks and dealt in secrets, hearing his name on your lips felt like a balm, a reminder of who he was beneath it all.
He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes briefly, savoring the warmth of your hand against his face. Your fingers slipped into his hair, toying with the strands in a slow, lazy motion. It was such a simple gesture, yet it made his heart beat faster, filling him with a tenderness he hadn’t thought himself capable of feeling.
“Good morning.” you mumbled, your smile sleepy and soft as you brushed your thumb across his cheekbone.
“Good morning, love.” he replied, his voice low, filled with a gentleness he saved only for you. Aventurine’s hand covered yours, holding it against his cheek, reluctant to let go of this connection. He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, lingering just long enough to feel your skin warm beneath his lips.
You let out a contented sigh, snuggling closer to him, your head resting against his chest. “How did I get so lucky to have you?” he mused aloud, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if the question was meant only for himself.
You opened your eyes, looking up at him with a smile that held a hint of mischief, despite the drowsiness still clouding your gaze. “Maybe the universe decided you deserved a little happiness too.” you murmured, your voice as soft as a secret.
Aventurine chuckled, the sound deep and comforting as he tightened his hold on you, drawing you closer still. He brushed his lips against your hair, inhaling the familiar scent that was unmistakably yours. “If that’s the case,” he said, his tone almost reverent, “then I must be the luckiest man alive.”
You laughed softly, the sound filling the quiet room like a melody, and he felt his heart swell at the sound. In this moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in your shared sanctuary, wrapped in warmth and each other’s presence.
As he held you, Aventurine couldn’t help but let his thoughts drift back to all the hardships he’d endured—the losses, the betrayals, the near-misses with death. He had always believed that his life would be one long, lonely road filled with battles and clever games, where the only reward was survival itself. But here, with you in his arms, he dared to hope for more. He dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, he’d found something worth more than any gamble he’d ever taken.
“Stay with me.” he whispered, more to himself than to you, but you heard it. You reached up, placing your hand over his heart, feeling its steady beat beneath your fingers.
“Always.” you murmured, your voice a sleepy promise that felt like a vow. Your eyes began to drift shut again, and you nuzzled closer, seeking his warmth. As you nestled against him, your breathing slowly evened out, slipping back into sleep with a serene smile on your lips.
Aventurine stayed like that, watching over you, content to hold you in his arms as the morning light gradually grew brighter. The world outside was waiting, filled with challenges, schemes, and risks he would inevitably have to face. But for now, in this quiet moment, he allowed himself to simply be Kakavasha—a man deeply, irrevocably in love, willing to bet everything he had to protect the rare and precious happiness he’d found in you.
Heellpp I'm thinking about Aventurine buying every makeup product the reader wants (cause she's interested in makeup not because she's insecure) and everytime he buys her a new set of makeup she has to see how beautiful the shade is but of course on his pretty cheeks and lips (not because she puts makeup on him, cause she kisses him but the idea of putting makeup on his face is also pretty cute and funny)
HOPE YOU READ THIS REQUEST I LOVE YOU BYYEEE
Kiss the Colours onto Me
Summary: Aventurine loves spoiling you with new makeup products, delighting in watching you try each shade. But today, you decide to test the makeup on him instead—by applying a bit of blush and lipstick to his face through playful kisses.
A/N: THANK YOU ANON FOR MAKING SUCH A CUTE REQUEST!! I LOVE IT AND LOVE YOU TOO <33 HOPE YOU LOVE THIS!!
The quiet murmur of your favorite perfume and Aventurine’s cologne filled the room, mingling in a delicate balance. It was a late afternoon ritual—one Aventurine had turned into a lavish affair, much to your amusement. He seemed to enjoy filling your vanity with makeup, every bit as much as you loved experimenting with it.
But today, his eyes—those intense magenta and cyan hues framed by his golden glasses—held a glint of mischief as he handed you another sleek black-and-gold bag. Inside, you found another new palette, a collection of lip colors and blushes in hues so exquisite you nearly swooned on the spot.
“You spoil me.” you murmured, leaning against his arm. Aventurine laughed softly, his arm wrapping around your shoulders to draw you close.
“Only fair to treat beauty with beauty.” he replied, an elegant smirk playing across his lips. His fingers lifted your chin gently, turning you to face him. “Though I must say, I have an interest in seeing the results myself.”
There was something in the way he spoke, the way his eyes sparked with anticipation as you opened each new compact and tested each shade. But you noticed his gaze drifting toward your lips, his playful demeanor telling you he might have plans of his own for this “testing” session.
With a grin, you picked out a shade—an iridescent blush that would surely look stunning on your own cheeks. But… what was the harm in experimenting? Especially when Aventurine himself seemed the perfect canvas.
You brushed a hint of the blush onto your finger and, in one smooth motion, pressed it against his cheek. His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he lifted his chin, lips twitching into a smirk as he watched you through his lashes.
“Beautiful color...” you murmured, brushing your thumb along his cheek in slow, gentle strokes. The subtle hue contrasted against his skin, and for a moment, you forgot you were supposed to be teasing him. He really did look good.
“Enjoying yourself, are we?” he chuckled, clearly amused by your enthusiasm. But before you could reply, his hands found your waist, pulling you closer.
“Aventurine—” you laughed, feeling his nose brush against yours. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure I get my share.” he murmured, his voice a low purr. And then, before you could blink, his lips found yours in a slow, tantalizing kiss that stole the breath right out of your lungs. The remnants of your chosen lipstick tinged his lips as he pulled back, his thumb brushing against the corner of your mouth with a fondness that left your heart racing.
You looked at his face, admiring the shades on his skin, and he chuckled, clearly aware of his effect on you. “Well, I’m waiting. Surely you wouldn’t let me walk around uneven.” he teased.
Giggling, you picked up the lipstick and, leaning closer, applied just a hint more to the side of his mouth with a quick peck. Aventurine's grin grew, and he glanced at himself in the nearby mirror, clearly amused. “You know,” he murmured, “I could get used to this… as long as you’re my artist.”
In that moment, he pulled you close again, his fingers tracing along your arm as his lips hovered near your ear. “Consider it our little ritual.” he whispered.
