#all requests should be expected in an hour or less tysm

[h3ll0k1ttywr1t3r]

I don't usually post these milestones or goals Tumblr sends me, but. 100 likes?

That's, like, literally sobbing rn.

I love you all sm and didn't expect to get such attention in so little time and- 100 likes? I'm still in disbelief.

Thank you, just- thank you. It means a lot to me rn to know that somewhere, people online actually like my writing enough to express it and even send in requests. It means the absolute world to me.

Thank you, thank all of you. This made my entire week.

Oh and if you sent in a request, expect it to be up in about an hour! Sorry for the wait.

I love you all, have a good day, and remember to take care of yourself. ♡

[moonstruckme]

Hey love, im back to plague you with another idea...

A situationship / budding relationship james x reader where shes the Black brothers sister, but every time one of them catchs the two of them alone they physically pick her up and just walk away with that menacing Black stare.

Tysm love x

Thanks for requesting sweetheart!

James Potter x Black!reader ♡ 911 words

“Do you really think this is the best place to hang out?” you ask James, eyeing the closet in his dorm as if you’re brother’s going to come popping out. 

“It’ll be fine,” he promises you in that optimistic, sure-footed way of his. 

From the way Regulus had talked about Sirius’ friends at Hogwarts, you’d expected James to be insufferable. Arrogant, entitled, the true embodiment of the mask your oldest brother puts on when he’s here at school. But you’d discovered when you’d arrived that Sirius’ goofy friend wasn’t the James Potter you were warned about. He was self-assured, certainly. Confident, but in the years you’ve known him it’s never seemed like anything more sinister than that. James doesn’t walk into every room like he owns it; he walks in like it’s home. He brings that everywhere with him—that feeling of home, of belonging. It seeps into you when you’re with him, and to your brother’s acute repugnance, you’re with him more and more these days. 

“Remus is off with Lily, and Sirius got pulled aside by coach after practice, so he’ll be on the pitch running drills for a good hour yet,” James goes on. He sits down on his bed, and you follow suit. “Plus, your dorm is occupied and this is the only other semi-private place I could think of.” His smile goes a bit sheepish as he shrugs, one-shouldered and boyish. 

You catch his meaning—the privacy carries implications neither of you are ready to act on—and you’ve got no reason to feel awkward about that but a nervous laugh fizzes up out of you anyway. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you admit. Though Sirius is far from unaware of this blossoming whatever between you and James, neither of you are keen on him finding out through the grapevine that you were seen canoodling in the hallways. Privacy is ideal. “So, I’m guessing practice went better for you than it did for him?” 

James shrugs again, the show of humility making you both grin. You can never seem to stop doing that around him. “Yeah,” he says, “practice for a seeker is pretty straightforward. Less strategy to it, so I guess I got off easy.” 

“You make it sound like Sirius isn’t just hitting things with a bat,” you deadpan, and he laughs. The sound feels like sunbeams shooting straight into your gut. 

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” he hedges. “But hey, are you coming to the party after the match on Saturday?” 

“Is there still going to be a party if you lose?” 

James fixes you with a look. “We never lose, sweetheart.” 

Another giggle bubbles out of you, though the joke isn’t really that hilarious. You secretly love when James calls you names like that. It makes your heart do all sorts of funny, acrobatic things. You don’t love that it’s probably not so secret, and he can almost definitely tell. His eyes go warm now, a knowing smile playing on the corner of his mouth. 

“Yeah,” you say, “I’ll think about it.” 

“You should come,” he encourages, leaning his hands back on the mattress. You very pointedly do not let your eyes linger on his forearms as he does so. “It’d make me happy to see you there.” 

“You’re always happy,” you tease. 

“That’s because you only see me when I’m seeing you.” You must look confused, because James’ clarifies, voice softening slightly, “I can’t help but be happy when I’m with you, sweetheart.” 

The combined effect of the words, the tone of his voice, the sweet way he’s looking at you—it starts up more than butterflies in your stomach. There’s got to be a whole ecosystem in there by now, with buzzing bees and jumping frogs and everything. You look down, a half-hearted effort to hide the smile that takes you.

“James,” you murmur, lightly chiding. 

The door comes open, and your brother’s eyes widen as they take in you on James’ bed, his hand an inch away from your leg and both of you looking terribly caught. Then they narrow. 

“James Potter, zip your pants back up right this instant!” 

“Sirius!” you exclaim, and there’s no lightness to this chiding, your face heating with mortification. You glance at James’ zipper, just to be sure—and yup, it’s fully closed, everything contained—and then glance quickly away, horrified all over again that you’d looked. 

“We weren’t even doing anything,” you seethe, knowing your stare matches your brother’s as you glower at each other from across the room. “What are you even doing back?” 

Sirius rolls his eyes, utilizing that older brother’s insouciance he knows gets under your skin like nothing else. “It seems you’ve gotten turned around. These are the boys’ dorms.” His words drip venom onto the dull red rug. “I’ll be happy to escort you back to yours. Let’s go.” 

“No.” You set both hands on James’ bed, feeling ridiculously petulant. Sirius raises a brow as if to say No? but you ignore him. “This dorm is as much James’ as it is yours, and he invited me here.” 

“Pads,” James says, not quite softly, but mildly compared to the fiery tones you and your brother are throwing back and forth, “we’re just talking.” 

“And now you’re done talking.” Sirius shrugs, stalking toward you. You grip James’ sheets a bit tighter on instinct. “If I recall, you have a potions’ essay to write, and you’re not—ugh.” He grunts, wresting you away from James’ bed using a hold that’s worked since you were kids. James himself offers no help, other than a sympathetic grimace as you’re hauled off. Sirius fixes him with a cold glare in return. “You’re not getting that done in here.” 

“You are so immature,” you gripe as he starts tugging you towards the stairs, your feet barely skimming the ground. 

“We can talk about—oi, quit!—we can talk about who’s more mature when you stop pinching me, you prick!” 

[watercurtaincave]

Your blog is so pretty!! Anyways can I request MK w a physically strong s/o? S/O likes to train a lot and is generally a good fighter <3

𖤓 !! — Maybe, thinking..? MK / strong! Reader (also tysm for the request, this was fun to write :3)

𖤓 !! — "right, so I want someone to explain how we got into this mess in the first place." Pigsy would ask as everyone took a pause on their respected task. Mei and Red Son were over in one corner, MK and you were standing in the center, Tang was with Pigsy, and Wukong and Macaque were in the other room; though they both would peak their head in, Macaque sorely unamused while Wukong was wondering why they had all been stopped. Surely, stopping everyone to ask one little question isn't the smartest thing. Especially when you were on a time restraint there was only half an hour left before everyone dies! (not really) "Well from what I remember.." Tang started, tapping his chin before he began to recount the details that lead everyone into this unescapable room:

𖤓 !! — MK, Mei, and you were at Wukong's 'shame temple' a few miles outside of the city. Ever since the Azure King was defeated, and no new villains seemed to be in the future, there had been a lot of down time for everyone. Though down time usually didn't halt any sort of training, especially when it was Wukong who was teaching the lessons. So, instead of spending your Saturdays at the arcade, or doing literally anything else, Wukong had the three of you train, for whatever reason.

𖤓 !! — It wasn't fun, not one bit. Especially since Wukong never really asked if Mei and you wanted to join, he just told you two to be there to help with MK's training. (I mean, if he had given you two the option, you and Mei would have said yes but it was a lot less fun when you're given no option.)

𖤓 !! — "And just like that, you can counter any attack that comes your way!" Wukong finished with a grin, jumping up and sitting back against the cloud that formed under him. He seemed rather indifferent to the staring kids, one of which was completely confused and the other two being mystified with Wukong's guidance. "You literally just told us a story about yourself!" You would point out, cocking an eyebrow up at Wukong with a suspicious look. What was a story from, probably, hundreds of years ago meant to help with basic counter attack training? But, Mei and MK seemed to hype up Wukong's story, leaving you stuck in the middle of their gushing. "Aw, stop it you two!" Wukong feigned being gushed and flushed, "I know, I'm just that awesome!"

𖤓 !! — Sadly, as you expected, being awesome wasn't exactly the recipe needed for MK to learn how to counter strike against an opponent. And he had to sit out after being bashed a few times by Mei and Wukong, as you refused to hit your boyfriend after he was ill trained my his mentor! Which Wukong seemed to put Wukong's panties into a twist: "I taught him how to do it! He just needs a couple more times to practice and it would be helpful if you helped!" Wukong bitterly stated, crossing his arms as MK laid under a pile of rock not too far away. His groan was the only thing you needed to hear to know that Wukong hadn't taught him shit. Mei rushed over to help MK out of his tough spot, as he was sore, and you only gestured over to the two with a 'you're seeing this, right?' to Wukong. Though he only glanced away, crossing his arms, with a denying face. Of course, what else should you have expected from the 'Great Sage' himself? "Well if you think you know better, then you fight me!" Wukong would mumble under his breath, unaware that you had caught his words. But you crossed your arms and shrugged your shoulders, "Sure." Leaving a slightly startled Wukong in response to your response, and a worried MK and Mei.

𖤓 !! — Now MK knew you trained, and he knew you were strong, you've helped on missions before and even helped MK with some more hand-to-hand combat training when Wukong wasn't available. Yet he couldn't help but worry about your duel with Wukong! And it wasn't him doubting you in no means, it was more of a rational thought process? You were mortal, Wukong was immortal. Wukong had the staff, you choose to fight with your fists. You both were trying to prove some point that MK had just barely caught when Mei managed to grab him out of the rubble. It was kind of an unfair fight. Plus, Wukong had hundreds of years of experience over you! "Hey, you know you don't have to do this... right?" MK shouted as he pressed an ice pack to his cheek, Mei rapping another bandage over his injured arm. "Don't worry about me, I got this." You would mumble back to MK, glancing over at him with a small smile, before turning back to Wukong. You were going to put this godly monkey in his damn place!

𖤓 !! — Well, at least you intended to. But now you only sat to the side of the training ground, having been dragged away and forced to sit on the ground by MK and Mei as you wouldn't stop trying to fight Wukong. Even after he may or may not have thrown you into a mountain and slapped you around with his staff, but hey, you managed to get a good few punches on him! "Self confidence and being overly cocky won't get you anywhere in a battle!" Wukong would scold you, despite you not being his student, as he stood beside the trio. You would flinch as MK would tie the bandage on your arm a little too tight, but gave Wukong an unamused glance anyways. You couldn't believe he was tying to scold you after you proved your point! Sure, you didn't win, but you showed Wukong didn't really teach MK how to counter attack, "You're literally bleeding out of your nose right now." "Alright, can we not fight right now? You're both bleeding!" MK mumbled, fumbling with the bandages as Mei ran back out with some disinfectant spray. She paused upon seeing MK bandaging up your wounds and shouted at him, playfully, that he needed to disinfect the wounds first!

𖤓 !! — "And then Wukong said: 'If you had used your head you would have figured out all the times you could have counter attacked me.' and then that somehow spiraled into us coming into this escape room." Tang would finish his little recap to a heavily unamused Pigsy, who slowly turned over to where the two culprits stood with their partners. To say he wasn't upset would be an understatement. "We're in here because you challenged the Monkey King to an escape room to see who's smarter?!" Pigsy watched as you pieced your lips to his shouting, glancing away from him for a moment. You would slowly shrug your shoulders before letting out a questionable, "Yes?" To which the room only grew silent. The only sensible ones giving you and Wukong an glare, one you could only guess meant that you both somehow overlooked something. Something important, something critical. Something that may or may not make this whole trip a waste of time, other than a lovely 'family bonding' experience. "But we're all completing the same escape room." Red Son would finally point out. Ah! There is was! That one critical thing that was overlooked, there would be no clear victor because everyone's combined efforts were being placed into this escape room. Yeah, neither of you thought that one through.

𖤓 !! — "-And hey, maybe we didn't complete the escape room, but we sure learnt a valuable life lesson!" Wukong would start after everyone had gathered back into Pigsy's after the escape room. Even with the hour time-limit that was given, no one managed to pool together a way to escape the escape room (that didn't include breaking things). Wukong waited for someone to amuse his banter. Though he stood discarded in the center of Pigsy's as everyone took a seat either at a booth or the counter. Tang would order a bowl of noodles and Pigsy went to go cook said noodles while you sat next to MK, watching as Red Son and Mei bickered over something. Macaque would snicker, sitting in a booth behind Wukong, as he was still ignored; He was enjoying Wukong getting a little of his own medicine for once, "No one cares, Wukong!" And despite the defiantly odd day that just occurred, you were finally able to just sit back with your boyfriend, even more a minute, as his mentor went to set down defeated. You would take MK's hand under the counter, watching as his attention would peak and he snuck a glance over at you. He grew a little flustered upon seeing your smile and couldn't help but smile back. No matter how strong either of you are, physically or mentally, there was surely always a weak spot in both of you for each other.

𖤓 !! — I couldn't add this into the story, but here's some extra points I wanna include!!: - MK def worries about you when you help in missions, no matter how strong you are. It's just something in his brain because he wants to protect everyone and his friends. So even if you insistent you'll be fine, he sends you off with an MK clone (if he can't personally tag along) as back up! - You also, in turn, worry about MK and want to do your best to protect him; But, you understand a little better than MK that he can protect himself. Still, all this work with Wukong does leave a rather bad taste in your mouth. - MK secretly is really glad that you're strong. Sure, he gushes about you and supports you through all your training and battles, but he never realized how glad he actually is that you're strong. He only would realize after the fight with ink him, as your strength, both physically and mentally, kept him sane during the whole fight. Especially after wards, when he had kept trying to deny the new power... he has glad you were there. - Probably has you play all those carnival games that are strength-related. You let him pick out the prize. Cute couples date, always. - If you want to, he'll come with you if you want to train or go to the gym. Though, 8 times out of 10 he will just be there for moral support; Sitting in a corner nearby on his phone, cheering you because he's so proud of you no matter how much you can lift. Though, defiantly sometimes uses his golden sight to make sure you're not straining yourself. - Cools down at the zero gravity arcade with you after <3

𖤓 !! — all writing in this page belongs to @watercurtaincaves, please do not repost on other sites, plagiarize, or steal. Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[yenqa]

can I request angst for sunoo? there isn't enough of it

four words

synopsis — the four words that ruined everything

warnings — swearing, angst, breaking up, uhh

pairing — sunoo x gn!reader

wordcount — 394

a/n — hi anon! tysm for the request! hopw u enjoyy

“Hey, can we talk?”

Sunoo has a sad look on his face, almost guilty. You turn back to him confused.

“Yeah, of course! What’s up?” Your brain starts to compute the worst things possible, was he dying? Did he rip that one sweater? Did you forget your anniversary? Or wait, was he-

He hesitates, mumbling, “we should break up, Y/n.”

That was certainly not the one you were rooting for.

The room had gone silent, you froze, expecting anything but those four words. Four words that seemed to ruin everything you had.

“Why?”

“I’m moving away, tomorrow.” He looks anywhere but you, seeming to find the plant next to you seriously intriguing.

Another four words that seemed to make everything worse, maybe after this you’ll never say another sentence without counting each word carefully.

You scoff, “You didn’t think to tell me? So you’ve been skipping around acting like everything is normal? Tell me, did you have fun knowing that you would break up with me before you moved?”

He jumps at your words, slightly startled by the things you’re saying. “Y/n it’s not that, I’m moving across the world to South Korea. It wouldn't have worked.”

Looking around incredulously, you retort, “We could’ve made it work. Do you have no trust in us? There's a thing called long distance couples y’know?”

“Yes but—Y/n I’m training to become an idol, I’m sorry I’m choosing my future over our relationship but it needed to be done.”

You wouldn’t be surprised if your face was as red as a tomato, “Are you listening to what I’m even saying?” Tears threaten to spill out of your eyes as you continue, “Sunoo, I couldn’t care less that you’re choosing your career over me, but you’ve been keeping this life changing secret for what? How long have you known about this?”

“I’ve known three months.”

You laugh, tears now spilling out of your eyes are you wipe them away as best as you can. “Oh if that doesn’t make this situation so much better! I’m leaving, Sunoo, have a safe flight.”

Slamming his door you slowly walk to your car, clumsily stepping into your car and driving off.

Just three hours ago you were laughing with him, watching a movie and cuddling as the sun shone brightly in the sky. The moon’s out now, and all that could be heard was your cries until the sunrise.

perm taglist : @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri @badmuni @yeokii @enhastolemyheart @softpia @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @boyfhee

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Heyo, i've got a game rec request for you! In a couple weeks i'm going to be a summer camp counselor for a cabin of teen boys (around 14-15 years old), and i'm on the hunt for some ttrpgs that i could bring to camp and try out with them! ideally something good for hour long pick-up-and-play sessions, more focused on getting into silly shenanigans than deep introspection. so far i've picked out Honey Heist, Galaxy Goons, and To Serve, but i'll take any other suggestions you can offer! tysm!

THEME: Quick Funny Camp Games

Hello friend, I’ve got a few silly games for you but I also included some games that are quick to run that have a little more focus to them in case your campers want to get their teeth into some plot.

Cryptid TV, by yanahn.

A plague of Reality TV stars has descended upon the sleepy town of Mountain Lake ready to hunt down (and capture on camera) anything that looks even remotely like a cryptid - your crew is among them to cause drama, fake hoaxes, and enact sabotage beyond all reckoning.

If the game uses the same rules as Honey Heist, then picking up and playing will be even easier! And Cryptid TV is one of those games. As a reality tv crew invades your hometown, your job is to infiltrate the film crew and sabotage the show - while trying to hide the fact that you’re one of the cryptids they’d want to get on camera! This game is set up for exactly the wacky hi-jinx that you might expect, and I feel like the vibe really goes well with a bunch of campers playing in a cabin somewhere. You should definitely check it out!

1400 Planes, by Unknown Dungeon.

The multiverse roils with boundless existence. For many, the infinite planes of creation drift past at an immeasurable distance, their alien secrets perpetually out of reach. However those who break their mortal shackles and cross that liminal space, wander such exotic spheres on an eternal pilgrimage.

If the group wants to jump into something a little less silly or just wants a chance to feel powerful, the character options in 1400 Planes included Clockforged, Birdfolk, Jotuun, and Merfolk (to name a few). You are hopping through a multiverse, and while the different planes are dangerous, your characters have gear and skills at their behest to help them face danger head-on.

The biggest obstacle that might stand in the way of this and the other 1400 games released by this designer is the dice requirement - 1400 Planes requires at least one d6, one d4, one d8, one d10 and possibly also one d12. If you want a great tactile experience though, the different dice shapes certainly deliver.

Bro Hunters, by The Other Tracy.

Bro. Ghosts, Bro. The stories are true. We've got our gear and we're gonna get famous, Bro.  Bro? Bro.

Ghost stories feel like a great match for camp, so pulling out a quick game of ghost-wrangling or other supernatural tomfoolery just feels right. Bro Hunters has a built-in goofy element in that all of the characters will probably refer to each-other as “bro” - and the game also comes with structured scenes to bring you from point A to point B. This game also gives the players a chance to contribute to the narrative - if their character dies, they will narrate the creepy stuff going on in the house.

What I enjoy about this game is the number of tactile elements. You’ll need something to act as a speaking totem - or Brotem - as well as some tokens to help you change the narrative (also called Bro-kens!). This game is much more free-form and allows the players a greater amount of narrative control than the other items on this list - it's a great introduction to roleplaying if your group is familiar with telling ghost stories together.

Crime Wizards, by pewter bee.

You are the Fox Club, a magical crew of thieves and criminals. Your mission is to take what you want, work with clients to fulfill their needs, and uphold your crew’s reputation. Your leader, Juliet Thrice, is in hiding due to heat from a recent job she conducted, leaving you to act on your own until her return.

Lasers & Feelings is another system with quick character creation and only 2 stats to worry about, although it can be decidedly more serious than Honey Heist. In these kinds of games, you are typically skilled individuals with a job to do, with the challenge of operating without a key figure or resource. You’ll choose a single number and roll a d6 to attempt to roll over or under that number, with an exact roll giving you something special! In Crime Wizards, you’ll be on a fantasy heist - perfect for cool scenes while also providing moments for some fun along the way.

[aenaxes]

Hey! I was wondering if you could write Crosshair going to the reader for random cuddles no matter where they are, late at night or out on the beach with the batch. BTW, I love the way you write and it never fails to get me inspired to draw our favorite clone boys. Good luck with Uni!

warnings: none

w/c: 1.6k

a/n: ahh tysm for this request! i got a little carried away lol but it's just because i had a lot of fun writing it! :-) hope this helps stoke the artistic imagination! (and thankfully uni is out for the summer so i have more time for our favorite clone boys)

It’s one of the better known facts that Crosshair doesn’t like to be touched, even if warranted, even if he’s asked. There are too many variables in another’s hands: accidents happen, sabotage is never unlikely, and sometimes youthful fear rears its cruel head, and he is flooded with the knee-jerk reflex of memories in the alabaster halls of Tipoca.

So the first time you cuddle with Crosshair, it’s just as much of a disaster as you expect it to be.

Crosshair lies like a corpse over the centre of your bunk, back rigid and ramrod straight, his deathly look complete with the ridiculous bandage criss-crossed over his hairline (courtesy of the simple joys of a ten metre human javelin toss and Wrecker’s miscalculated aim).

Where painkillers weren’t quite enough to keep the concussion headaches at bay, he’d somehow come to the conclusion that you would be. And who were you to turn down a sullen Crosshair mumbling awkwardly for cuddles at your door?

With careful hands and just enough of a firm touch to coax him onto his side without spooking him out of his moping, you maneuver him with his back towards the wall and gently push him further in before you climb onto the space beside him. He flashes you an uncertain look, and you offer him a wry smile in return.

“Relax a little,” you say, lifting his limp arm and slotting yourself against his side until your chests are flush. It’s less cuddling than it is you trying to mold yourself around the hard, firm lines of the tension etched into Crosshair’s muscle and poise. But if he was willing to put aside his standoffish pride to ask you for cuddles, you won’t deny him. Finally content with your arrangement, you lift your chin and fix him with a wry smile. “I can’t spoon a board.”

“Was that an insult?” he offers, a weak attempt at his usual wit that comes out as more of a whimper than bite. But to his credit, he’s listening to you, and you feel him shifting slightly in an attempt to make himself comfortable despite his somewhat unsettled expression.

“Maybe,” you counter. “Loosen your shoulders. Stop tensing. Cuddle, Crosshair.”

“I’m trying,” he mutters, and when you close your eyes to laugh, you barely miss the small upward turn of his lips.

When you wake up the next morning, you feel reborn, all loose-limbed, sated joy as you stretch your arms to your side, expecting Crosshair’s lean form curled close. Instead, you find yourself alone in your bunk, your covers pulled neatly up to your chin with no sign of your surly sniper in sight. You pull yourself together, albeit with a frown, throwing on a fresh set of clothes and readying yourself for a day of snarking (a bit spitefully) at Crosshair for leaving without so much as a thank you.

But then you see it. A small mug sitting on your desk: caf.

As you peer over the rim, you’re hard-pressed to mistake it as anything other than your preference made to perfection, and judging by the steam curling fragrant and wispy over its surface, it’s fresh.

Crosshair says nothing when you pass him in the helm, but when you flash him a grin, he huffs and offers you a lopsided smile back.

It takes the lesser part of one week for the headaches to abate. In between then and Crosshair’s begrudgingly clean bill of health, he comes knocking at your door four more times, each time gently loosening the deep roots of tension coiled through his bones more and more.

“You’re getting better at this,” you murmur into his shoulder on the fourth night, your leg thrown over his hip and your arms tucked securely under his. His first night in your quarters had ended in little beyond simply lying shoulder-to-shoulder. The next two had been (failed) attempts to spoon the entirety of Crosshair’s lanky form. And the night penultimate had been a slightly more successful endeavor in throwing all experimental caution to the wind and waking up chest-to-chest in an oddly comfortable tangle of limbs.

That night worked, and so you do it again.

“I had a good teacher,” Crosshair snorts, and he wheezes, his arms curling snug around your middle, when you gently jab him in the side.

You mutter something into his shoulder, but your own words do not reach your ears when you feel his chin settle atop your head. He shifts carefully until he’s curled entirely around you, the anchor in a still sea, a promise that you, together in shared space and breath, simply are. It’s funny how these things work, you think, breathing shallow and slow as Crosshair brushes his nose over the crown of your head and stays.

And then the concussion heals, and he’s gone.

It’s a bit startling how quickly you had grown accustomed to Crosshair’s presence in your bunk within the brief span of a week. You don’t expect to miss it, the easy nighttime habit as Crosshair quietly slinks to your room: a well-rehearsed ritual of playful snark before the gentler art of accommodation, pushing and pulling in tandem to find the sweet stability of your cheek laid over Crosshair’s collar and his palm warm over the small of your back.

You don’t expect to miss it so much that you find yourself lying in bed well past lights out, simply bracing to sling meaningless jokes thrown in the helm the next morning about how Crosshair’s gone soft, little baby brother Crosshair, like the week prior meant little but a favor to a friend.

The telltale knock sets him apart; four rapid, light raps on the durasteel that you’ve come to know so well, and you’re hauling yourself out of bed and slapping the door lock open as fast as you can.

“Cuddles,” Crosshair says as soon as he catches sight of you in the doorway.

He should be fine; he is fine, if Tech is to be believed. So there’s no reason for him to be waking you and requesting entry. But he is here. You stuff down the dizzying stutter in your chest and meet the mirth in his eyes with the best frown you can manage.

For all the stubborn fronting and the cold refusal you could offer him, there’s something you cannot bring yourself to resent when Crosshair—sour, cynical Crosshair—lets the word “cuddle” find home, curled soft over his tongue (lets himself find home in you).

“Will you make me caf in the morning?”

“Depends on how well you cuddle,” he replies, his tone a deadly calm, only betrayed by the knowing gleam in his eye.

“Says the man who didn’t know how to cuddle a few days ago,” you shoot back.

“The apprentice outdoes the master,” Crosshair shakes his head with a wistful sigh, and you laugh, reaching forward to twine your fingers with his, letting him take his rightful place as the doors close behind you.

—

He comes back home.

Wrecker tells you to give him space, Echo shakes his head when you idle in front of his closed door, and even Omega offers you a sad, apologetic look when Crosshair makes the rare, silent appearance outside of his quarters, a spectre and his bacta patch haunting the ship’s hull before he disappears again.

You listen to them for a few days, but it chews at you from inside—the gnawing thought that Crosshair had been alone for so long, that he’s still alone now. Even if his basest instinct had always been to withdraw and cope in isolation, you can’t stand the idea of leaving him by himself any longer. So when the others have long since fallen asleep, you creep to Crosshair’s room and knock four times in rapid succession.

Like you had expected, he’s awake. But when he opens the door, he keeps his unfocused eyes cast aside.

“Cuddles,” you whisper, testing, hopeful, and you open your arms to him as you stand on the threshold. “Just like we used to?”

Only then does Crosshair flick his weary eyes up, rimmed red with exhaustion, grief overdue. And after four long days, he finally meets your gaze.

You watch as his eyes linger under furrowed brows, peering at you as if he isn’t entirely sure if you’re real, if you’re really there. Watching him waver between your face and your open palms and back again, you imagine Crosshair thinking that it’s always been the other way around: him seeking you out at odd hours to wrap his lean arms around your shoulders, breathe deep, and simply bask in how close you were to his beating heart.

And now it’s you.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, stepping forward between your outstretched arms to gingerly place his chin over your shoulder and settle his lean arms at your waist.

All those times you spent curled, molded around him in the quiet darkness of your bunk—it’s honed you to know him like you know yourself, committing to indelible memory the way he breathes, shifts, fits with you.

And he’s different. A year’s worth of separation would do that, change. But where you feel some new muscle and sinew against your skin, there is undeniable familiarity in how he seeks you out despite the tremble in his hands and unsteadiness of his breath.

There is familiarity in finding home.

You reach up, looping your arms around his neck. And when you pull snug, you feel him squeeze your waist in return, holding tight and holding close.

“Just like we used to.”

[fangirlovestuff]

Everytime - Chris Evans x reader

a/n - hey lovely people!! this is based on this request, thank you so much nonnie!! honestly i didn’t know this song before and it’s a bop. it kinda spiralled a little more than the song, but i hope you’ll like it!! also, tysm Ev @evansphnx12​ for helping me with the ending, you’re a sweetheart!! okay, no more rambles, enjoy<3

Summary: you and chris didn’t want the same things, or at least you didn’t think so. it was pointless to pretend like you did, you’d only end up getting hurt; but the second your eyes meet you want nothing except for each other, and god knows that’s a pull you can’t resist.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: mentions of sex but nothing graphic, alcohol consumption (everyone’s the proper age), a little bit of angst

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

"Hello?" you answer the phone curiously. The number isn't one you recognize, not saved on your phone, and you furrow your brows trying to understand who could it be, except maybe a spam call.

"Hey," answers a deep voice from the other side of the phone, "it's Chris, I don't know if you remember, you gave me your number a while ago and-"

"Oh yeah, I remember," you said, "hi!" you smiled even though you know he can't see you. "How are you?"

You both went through the normal pleasantries, but your mind wasn't really in it, running a mile a minute because god, did you remember Chris.

You two met a while back at a bar. You were out with your friends, and you noticed him from the corner of your eye, his friend group smaller than yours but large nonetheless. He was pretty far from where you were seated, but he looked so good you couldn't resist sneaking some more looks at him throughout the night.

Okay, maybe you were staring. Just a little.

And he must've noticed too, because the next time you lifted your eyes he wasn't in his previous seat, and you were about to sigh and assume he went home before you heard a voice greeting you to your right. You jumped a little in surprise before turning your head, only to look up and find his blue eyes staring back into yours, a slight smirk playing on his lips, and shit, he was so handsome it was unfair.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Even his voice was attractive. You contained your scoff of disbelief.

Long story short, one drink turned into a few more, that turned into going back to his house and having what was maybe the absolute best sex of your life, because you were both pretty drunk, but it was definitely up there.

You vaguely remember giving him your number, but you still left early the next morning, because that's what you thought he wanted, thinking the whole number thing was probably more of a courtesy than anything.

Apparently, it wasn't.

"So, I'm gonna be back in town next week," he mentioned casually, "and I was wondering if maybe… you'd wanna meet up? Grab a coffee or something?"

"Sure," you said, your brain catching up with your mouth a short moment afterward, and shit, why did you just say that? Doesn't that make you seem desperate? And besides, wasn't the whole thing supposed to be a one-night type of deal?

This was a bad idea. You knew that, but there was a small part of you that didn't care; small but definitely not insignificant.

"Great!" he chuckled on the other side of the phone. "So I'll text you sometime?"

"Yeah," you said, ending the call on an agreement to meet up Friday when he'd be in town.

So, in five days. That's enough time for your heart to stop pounding this loudly in your chest and the butterflies to stop fluttering around in your stomach, right?

Shit.

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

You kept busy the entire week, not giving yourself enough to mull over the plans you had, until it was finally Friday morning, and you woke up to a text from Chris, asking if you were still on for tonight and if you wanted him to come pick him up.

You thanked him and took him up on his offer, before plopping back first onto your bed. You put it off far enough, but now you could feel yourself inevitably freaking out.

The thing was, you really didn't know what to expect, the uncertainty that had been gnawing at the back of your mind for a week now finally taking the spotlight. You thought you'd never see him again, but that clearly wasn't the case.

Well, you'd see soon enough, you gathered, as you distracted yourself for another few hours until it was time to get ready. Chris didn't exactly tell you where you were going, but you two had mentioned a coffee, and even if it wasn't that, you imagined he wouldn't take you anywhere too fancy, so you put on something casual elegant.

I'm sorry, that last bit was kind of misleading, wasn't it? Really, you thought about what to wear for a good 30 minutes, decided on casual elegant and then took another good hour to pull out an obscene amount of clothes from your closet, proceeding to try on different outfits until you finally settled on one.

The advantage of your indecision was that it was very time consuming, leaving you very little time to get everything else you needed in order, thus less time to spiral.

When Chris texted you to come outside, all you could do was take a deep breath and go. After you greeted each other, the music filled the silence between you, not uncomfortably. Without noticing, you started humming the song beneath your breath, and before long you were both singing along, and you could feel the tension seeping out of your shoulders. Once the song ended, you took a deep breath and looked over to see Chris already looking at you. You smiled at him, and he returned it.

"Chris, I gotta, um," you swallowed, "ask you something."

"Sure, what is it?"

"Well, I'm just… is this a date? Not that I'm trying to, I don’t know… look, I just want us to be on the same page, I guess, it doesn't have to be a date, I was just, like, wondering."

Real smooth.

"It's fine," Chris chuckled a little, and you kept your eyes trained on the dash before you so you wouldn't have to meet his. "I guess… I don't really know either? We could just… see how it goes?"

"Yeah, alright," you smiled a little, "sounds great. Speaking of going, where are you taking me? Cause, you know, if you're a serial killer that's taking me out in the woods to kill me, I'd rather know now than later."

"I'm not a serial killer, and it's a surprise," he grinned.

"That's exactly what a serial killer would say," you said, playfully narrowing your eyes at him.

He let out a laugh. "Okay, okay, it's a club not far from here. It's a new one, I haven't been there myself yet, so I’d figured we'd check it out?"

"Sure," you grinned at him. The rest of the short drive went by in a flash, and when you got there, Chris darted out of the car to open your door for you.

"Thank you," you giggled.

"After you," he gestured, and you led your way into the club.

Inside, you took in the atmosphere, which was pretty relaxed since it was still early. You and Chris ate a little, engaging in conversation, and before long your drinks arrived. You were about to bring yours to your lips when Chris reached out and stopped you. You looked at him quizzically.

"We have to toast first," he shrugged with a smirk.

"Okay. So, what are we toasting for?"

"To new beginnings," he raised his glass in suggestion.

"To new beginnings," you repeated softly, clinking your glass with his before taking a sip from your drink.

When things picked up a little, you both got to the dance floor. In no time you found your rhythm, dancing together as if it wasn't the first time. The songs were jumpy, upbeat, and you found yourself beaming when Chris spun you around before pulling you back in.

You danced like that for a while, before you both got thirsty, heading to the bar for another drink.

"You wanna get outta here soon?" he asked, raising his voice to make sure you heard him over the loud music.

"Let's go," you said, grabbing his hand and practically dragging him to the exit. You heard his laugh behind you, and you smiled.

"Sorry," you said once you were outside, "the music was getting a little too loud for me," you shrugged.

"Yeah, it kinda was," he agreed with a soft smile. "So, where to next?"

You checked the time on your phone. "I mean, we could go back to my place if you want a coffee, since I doubt anywhere else is open right now."

"Great!" he smiled, and then his eyebrows furrowed a little, "But I guess neither of us should drive, right? I mean, I probably could, I just…"

"Yeah, you're right," you nodded.

"My place is closer to here, actually," he said, "If you want, we could walk there?"

"Alright," you smiled.

You two started walking side by side, silently at first. "What about your car?" you asked.

"I'll come by and get it tomorrow," he shrugged. "I need to get gas anyway. I'm driving upstate again in a couple of days."

"Can't you fly?"

"Not since the last time I checked, when I was four and nearly broke my arm jumping from a tree," he smiled teasingly.

"Ha ha," you rolled your eyes, a smile spreading on your face despite your efforts to stop it. "I mean, wouldn't it be easier if you took a plane instead of driving?"

"Maybe, but I don't like flying that much. It's exhausting."

You simply hummed in reply.

Before long, you were at Chris' house. Again, your mind unhelpfully supplied, vividly reminding you of the last time you were here, which was-

"So, do you want that coffee?" Chris asked when he showed you in, thankfully breaking your train of thought before you could get too zoned out.

"Um yeah, that sounds wonderful," you smiled at him. As you waited on his couch while he went to get the coffee, your eyes wandered around the large room. You didn't really get much of a look at his house before since you were… occupied with other things, but it was really nice, modestly decorated.

As you were looking around, you heard a soft patter of footsteps come up behind you, and you turned around to see Chris concentrating on the two mugs in his hand, trying not to spill anything, his tongue darting out in concentration a little. It made you giggle a little, making him look up at the sudden sound.

"What?" he asked, putting the mugs down carefully.

"Nothing," you smiled.

He eyed you suspiciously before apparently deciding to drop it, since all he did was sit down and pat the space next to him for you to sit in.

You two decided to watch a movie, but honestly, to each of you the other one was way more interesting than the movie.

Your second night with Chris ended up pretty much the same as the first one, with amazing sex and a good night's sleep. And then, slipping away the next morning.

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

"I just, ugh," you plopped back down on your bed, talking to your friend on the phone, "I don't know."

"Listen, it's only been a few days, and he told you he was going away, I'm sure he'll talk to you soon. Or not," your friend said from the other side of the phone.

"That's comforting," you snorted, flipping onto your stomach.

"Hey, you said it yourself, right? You don't know what you two are. If it was just a hookup, he probably won't call." You opened your mouth to reply, but as if she could sense it, your friend continued before you could. "I'm not being mean, I'm being honest. You don't deserve to get your heart broken."

"I know," you sighed. "Thank you," you said sincerely, "talk to you later."

In the months that followed you saw Chris a few more times, each of them ending in pretty much the same way. Some were at your house, and he was gone in the morning, which in a way confirmed you were… what, friends with benefits? In a casual relationship?

You knew you shouldn't obsess about putting a label to it, because it doesn't really matter, except it did matter to you and you'd really like to know.

But you never brought it up. You liked what you had. It was fun. Really fun.

And every time you would be with him, most of your logical thinking skills would fly out of the window, so there's that. You liked to rationalize you didn't bring it up because you were consciously deciding not to jeopardize what you have, but really, it just doesn't cross your mind when you're with him.

It's weird, because when you're with him, you're incredibly calm, happy really, but when you're not, he makes you so nervous you feel like running to get the fidgety energy out. And running sucks.

Now, you were sitting at your friend's kitchen table as she made herself a coffee.

"Hey," your friend said, her voice laced with strictness and affection, "are you listening to me?"

"Yeah," you nodded, shaking yourself from your reverie.

"Really? Or are you thinking about Chris again?"

"What? No, I was just thinking about-" you started denying it, before your friend simply arched her brow at you, making you sigh. "-Chris. God, am I really that obvious?"

"Yes," she said matter-of-factly before sipping her coffee.

"Sorry," you offered half-heartedly, "I know I'm being annoying, I just… I like him. And I don't know what we are and it's driving me up the wall."

"Hold on, did you just say you liked him?" she looked at you incredulously.

"Yes," you said, although it came out more as a question than a statement.

"Oh honey," she said, sitting down in the chair next to you.

"I know, I know," you sighed looking at the table instead of her, "I shouldn't. But I do," you looked up at her. "That's why I'm… scared," the admission fell past your lips, the last word merely a whisper.

Your friend wrapped her arm around you in comfort, knowing you still needed to talk about it.

"If I just knew what he wanted, this would all be easier, because then I could keep the same mindset. But I don't wanna be annoying and end up embarrassing myself."

"You know what I think about this. You don't deserve to get hurt," she replied, squeezing your shoulders.

"I know, I just really don't know what to do," you sighed.

"If I were you," she started, "I'd tell him I'm seeing someone else."

"What?" you frowned.

"Just my take on it. What's the worst thing that could happen? It's not like you can't break up if you're not together," she shrugged.

"Okay, I get it," you scoffed. "No need to rub it in."

Despite your cynicism, you couldn't help thinking maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all. Also, it was kind of the only idea you had, so either that or leave things as they were. Not that you were really complaining, I mean, things were wonderful as they are, but the uncertainty was becoming unbearable.

Maybe confronting him about it will be good, whispers a voice of hope in your head.

Yeah, you thought, or maybe it'll bite me in the ass. And not in a fun way.

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

The next time Chris was in town, he called you on a Friday morning.

"Hey!" he said, and even across the phone you could hear he was excited. It made your heart swell with fondness, a feeling you quickly shook off because, well, you weren't exactly boyfriend and girlfriend, so the only feeling you should have is like, attraction. Right?

"Hey," you said, your voice soft.

"So, I'm in town this weekend, and I was thinking, do you wanna do something?"

"I guess," you said, a smile sneaking onto your face, "What'd you have in mind?"

"You'll see," he said, and you could practically hear his smirk, "Just bring an overnight bag."

An overnight b-

"Yeah, sure," you said, your mouth speaking before your brain caught up, and shit, that seems to happen entirely too often when you were talking to him.

"Great! So I'll see you tonight?"

"See you," you agreed, ending the call, not before he told you he'd pick you up at seven.

Well, now all you had to do was pack an overnight bag for somewhere without knowing where, which was just… splendid.

Stifling your groan of frustration, you got up to do just that.

Just like always, when Chris came to pick you up and you got into his car, a smile came onto your face, your previous frustration now replaced with near-giddiness. Focus, you told yourself, you should be telling him you're seeing someone else.

But you didn't, not yet obviously, since you just got into his car. That'd be an extremely weird way to start a conversation.

"Hi," you greeted instead, smiling at him.

"Hey," he grinned, barely waiting for you to get your seatbelt on before he started driving.

"So, where are we going that's got you so excited, you're willing to risk getting into a car accident?" you chuckled.

"It's a surprise, and I'm not risking anything," he rolled his eyes.

"Sure you aren't, mad max," you quipped, making him laugh. "And last time I checked, there's nowhere called 'a surprise'."

He chuckled. "C'mon, you'll see for yourself, we're almost there."

And indeed, a few minutes later he was slowing down and turning to a road that led into a forest.

"Okay, seriously Chris, where are we going?"

"Relax, we're not lost. I know exactly where we are."

"I was thinking more along the lines of 'huh, maybe you are a serial killer after all', but yeah, that's reassuring," you raised your brows at him.

"If I were a serial killer I would've killed you already," he rolled his eyes at your antics.

"That's exactly-"

"What a serial killer would say," he completed your sentence, huffing out a laugh, "I figured."

You giggled at that, relaxing into your seat. You weren't actually worried, but it was nice to know you haven’t been fucking a serial killer for the last few months.

Sooner rather than later Chris parked the car, meaning you arrived, but you didn't really see where exactly you are until you got out. Then, you saw a small clearing in the woods, with what seemed like the remains of a fire in the middle of it.

"Okay, so we ruled out the serial killer option," you called out to Chris, who was busy opening the trunk of the car, "The way I see it you're either gonna sacrifice me in a weird satanic ritual or this is a camping site."

"Well, I considered the first one but it just seemed like a lot of effort," he teased, "Yeah, this is a camping site."

"Awesome," you chuckled, getting your bag. "Do you need help with anything or…"

"Oh, no, just wait a second and I'll get it all out," he said, already lifting his bag out and what seemed like the bag of a tent.

You did as he said and waited by the remains of the campfire. And you know, maybe also ogling him a bit as he carried the bags over.

"So," he started when he put the bags down, "I think we should put up the camp first, before the sun completely sets and then we won't be able to see what we're doing."

"Sounds like a good idea," you smiled.

You two started putting up the tent, a task that was harder than you realized, the flexible poles getting disconnected while you were moving them through the fabric and poking you in the stomach one unfortunate time.

By the time the sun was setting, you were getting pretty sulky, and it didn't escape Chris' attention. "C'mon, now's the most satisfying part," he smiled.

Starting to put up the poles, the tent turned from a pile of fabric and plastic to a tall tent in a matter of minutes.

"Okay, this is the most satisfying part," you laughed a little when you saw the results of your handiwork.

While Chris was setting up the fire, you were rummaging through the food he brought, because you were getting snacky. Just when you found the marshmallows, Chris asked, "So when's the last time you built a tent? Besides right now, I mean."

"Ummm… I don't know. Probably when I was really little," you shrugged.

"I come out here pretty often when I can," he said, "It's nice". You turned to look at him, but he was still messing around with the wood.

"What've you been up to lately then?" he smiled when he was finally done lighting the fire, turning his gaze up to look at you.

Well, it's now or never.

"There's this guy that offered me to hang out sometime," you said as casually as you could, "Mike."

Mike? Really? That's the name you came up with?

You thought you saw Chris' jaw clench, but maybe it was just the lack of light playing tricks on you. When he said nothing you continued. "He's nice."

It was like his whole demeanor had changed in the span of seconds, from smiling and relaxed his muscles tensed, and his jaw was definitely clenched.

"Okay," was the only thing he said after a few moments.

The only thing disturbing the silence were the sounds of nature and the crackling fire. You had a beer with him, and still, silence.

"Is everything okay?" you asked. He just hummed in response, his mind clearly somewhere else.

"Earth to Chris?" you snapped your fingers in front of his face.

"I'm here," he chuckled. "So anyways, did you?"

"What?"

"Did you hang out with Mike?"

"Oh, that," you said, "would it have mattered if I did?" you took a swig of your beer.

"Yes," he said lowly.

"Yes?" you turned to look at him so quickly your neck nearly snapped. He was still looking ahead into the fire.

"I mean," he turned his eyes to you, "What about us?"

"Oh, suddenly now we're an 'us'?" you rolled your eyes, "that's wonderful, Chris. Really, it is. You’re barely here, and when you are, we fuck and you leave, and now this? Maybe I should hang out with Mike," you mumbled the last part.

"If that's how you feel," he said.

You were both quiet for the rest of the night, going to sleep in separate sleeping bags. It was cold, and all you wanted to do was crawl into Chris' bag with him to steal some warmth, but your pride wouldn't let you.

In the morning, you woke up to find the tent empty. You rubbed your eyes and went outside, squinting against the morning sun.

"Good morning," Chris greeted quietly. He was sitting next to where the fire was last night, now obviously reduced to lumps of coal, and if that didn't perfectly represent your mood, you didn't know what did.

"Morning," you replied curtly.

"You know, about yesterday, I-"

"No, I don't know," you burst out. "Or at least I didn’t know, and it drove me crazy, thinking about what the hell I was to you, what we… are we even a 'we'?" you shrugged helplessly. "But I guess now I know, so thanks for that one."

"I'm sorry," he said, coming closer to you.

"Yeah, whate-"

"I'm sorry you felt that way. I shouldn’t have left things so up in the air. I should've told you how much I liked you from the start, instead of doing… whatever it is we've been doing. I'm sorry you felt like I didn't want you, because I do," his eyes pierced into yours. "I'm sorry I didn't say that sooner."

"I- you like me?" you asked, eyes going wide.

"I do," he smiled timidly, scratching the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry I was being a bitch earlier," you mumbled.

"It's okay, it’s re-"

"Do you accept my apology?" you cut him off with a smile.

"Yeah, of course."

"Great."

You walked the last few steps between you, closing the distance and planting your lips on his.

Every other time you kissed Chris, there was a rush to it, an aroused urgency, the knowledge of what it would lead to. But now there was the sweet promise of something more. You didn't know exactly what that was, but it made your heart hum in joy and your belly do somersaults.

Later, you found out the promise was happiness.

You felt it when you finally went on your first official "date date" with Chris. You felt it when he kissed you goodnight and good morning and everything in between. You even felt it when he found out Mike wasn't real and he laughed, and honestly you laughed too, because it was pretty funny.

Really, you felt it every time you were with Chris. Which was convenient, since, as he told you on several occasions, he wasn't planning on letting you go any time soon.

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

tell me your thoguhts?<3

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[havenoffandoms]

hi it's me again!! can you do "“I can’t believe I’m sitting in a dungeon with you of all people.” with geralt and reader? tysm i love ur writing so much

I can’t express just how happy I am that you’re requesting all these prompts! <3 This is not me procrastinating, and writing out these requests instead of my WIPs, or you know, actual uni work. This fill is a bit longer, just because I got inspired! I started this prompt thinking it would turn out funny and light-hearted, but my brain took a different turn. The second prompt you requested will be nothing but softness.

Prompt: “I can’t believe I’m sitting in a dungeon with you of all people.”

Warnings: This is on the angsty side, considered yourselves warned. 

Tumblr Request Masterlist “I can’t believe I’m sitting in a dungeon with you of all people,” you declare, rather dramatically, while glaring at your cell companion. Jaskier offers a sheepish smile in return, then startles when he feels something quick and furry brush past his wrist. 

“Oh, don’t be like that, Y/N. Besides, Geralt is probably already on his way to save us, you know just how much our dear witcher likes to play the part of the knight in shining armour.”

You pull your knees closer to your chest and shoo away the stray rats nibbling at the sole of your shoes. You want to believe Jaskier’s words, you really do, but you’ve been stuck in this cell for… how long has it been, anyway? It’s hard to tell without any windows, making it impossible to assess with certainty what time of day it is. It’s been too long regardless, especially when you and Jaskier didn’t do anything that would justify throwing you in a cell, your only crime being your association with Geralt of Rivia. 

Your heart tightens at the thought. Whatever information these men wish to pull out of you, you decide that you’ll rather die than reveal anything about Geralt. And you know that Jaskier feels the same way about his long-time friend. 

“I don’t know, Jaskier. What if… what if he doesn’t?” 

“Now, now. None of that.” Jaskier moves until his arm is pressed against yours and he’s able to grab a hold of your hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “If there’s anything I know for certain about my dear friend Geralt, it’s that he would never, ever, leave his friends stranded.”

“What if he doesn’t know that we’re in this cell?” you insist, your voice trembling with barely restrained panic, “what if he decides that we’re not worth the trouble? He needs to protect Ciri, so he might not come, and these men could ki-”

“Hey, Y/N, look at me,” Jaskier urges you to face him by tugging at your hand. You can’t hide the tears welling up in your eyes as you let fear take over. Jaskier offers a reassuring smile, despite the current circumstances, and you take comfort in the familiarity of his presence. “Breathe, alright? Panicking won’t help us. Have a little faith. Geralt cares about us. He cares about you. He’ll come, don’t worry.” 

Jaskier rests his forehead against yours affectionately, and for the briefest of moments, you allow yourself to believe that Geralt will indeed come and save the day.

___________

You’re suddenly jostled awake when you hear commotion just outside your and Jaskier’s cell. The bard is still pressed against you, though this time he looks a lot less confident than he did earlier when he was comforting you. You hear a loud crash, the sound of steel clashing against steel, then a pained scream followed by muffled gurgling. Something big and heavy crashes against your cell door, causing it to rattle precariously in its hinges. You hide your face in Jaskier’s chest and feel pull you closer to him, trying to protect you from whatever is happening outside despite the fact that he’s clearly as terrified as you are. The commotion goes on for another short couple of minutes which feel like hours to you and Jaskier. Finally, you hear the familiar sound of a sword being sheathed before someone unlocks your cell door. You don’t dare look up from the relative safety of Jaskier’s embrace, pinching your eyes shut as you expect the worst. 

“Geralt, my friend!” Jaskier lets out a startled laugh, ringing bright with mirth and evident relief at the sight of their saviour. He gently pulls you away from him, forcing you to look at him. “I told you, Y/N. I told you he’d come for us.” 

“Y/N,” you hear the rough baritone of Geralt’s voice call out for you, though there is an urgency in his tone that you’re not used to from him. You eventually peel away from Jaskier and turn to face Geralt. He’s covered in blood - though most of it probably not his own, you remind yourself to keep yourself from spiralling. You barely bite back a startled yelp when you take in the sight of his face; his eyes are still mostly black, a side-effect from the witcher potions he likely consumed before stepping into the dungeon to your and Jaskier’s rescue, and the dark sinewy veins contrast against his far too pale skin.

“Geralt? You… you came,” you breathe out, your tone halfway between reverend and horrified, “I… I’m sorry you had to… I’m sorry…”

You don’t notice the tears trailing down your cheeks until you hear Geralt’s sharp intake of breath. In the blink of an eye, thanks to the superhuman speed the potions grant him, he’s kneeling by your side, cupping your face in his hands and thumbing away the fresh wave of relieved tears. A sob pushes past your lips when you finally collapse against Geralt, the firmness of his chest as familiar as the sound of his voice by now. Your witcher pulls you impossibly closer and wraps you up in a tight embrace, whispering sweet reassuring nothings into your ear. 

“Don’t be sorry, dove. I’m here, you’re safe. Not goin’ anywhere, either. Shh, you’re alright…”

“I hate to ruin this heartfelt reunion,” Jaskier’s soft voice suddenly interrupts the moment, and you can sense the underlying urgency in his tone, “truly, this has the potential to become my next big hit, but we really should be getting out of here. It won’t be long before reinforcement comes our way…”

“Jaskier’s right,” Geralt rises to his feet and pulls you up despite your yelp of protest, “are either of you hurt?”

“No,” you manage to answer before wiping the last of your tears, willing yourself to keep it together a little while longer, “let’s go, the quicker we’re out of here the better.”

__________

You’re exhausted by the time you reach camp. Jaskier is happily chatting away about his newest ballad, like he and you did not just spend the gods know how long in a prison cell. You don’t understand how the bard does, how he manages to pretend like nothing happened when you’re still twitchy and trembling. Geralt ignores Jaskier’s ranting for the most part, too focused on making sure you’re fine. He helps you dismount Roach by offering his hand for support, though when you slide off the saddle, you all but slump limply into his arms. 

“Talk to me, dove,” he whispers to you, low enough so as to not draw Jaskier’s attention, “are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“Yes, Geralt.” You offer what you hope is a reassuring smile, but judging by the frown your efforts are met with, you’re unable to convince your love, “I’m just tired. And still a bit shaken.”

“I’ll get a fire going. Sit down, have a rest.”

“Oh, and by the way, Geralt,” Jaskier saunters over to where you and Geralt are standing, “you’ll have to tell me how you managed to bypass all these guards, and don’t be stingy on the details.”

“Not now, Jaskier,” Geralt grouses, still not letting go of you, “if you want to show your gratitude, get a fire going.”

Jaskier shoots you a concerned look, but he thankfully doesn’t press you as he goes to do as Geralt requested. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as you sink deeper into Geralt’s embrace. You let his familiar scent wash over you in calming waves as he gently drags you down to his bedroll. You vaguely feel Geralt pull away from you and wrap a warm blanket around your shoulders, tucking you in snugly before pulling you to him once again. Your eyes flutter shut as you finally allow yourself to come down from your high. 

“I was so worried about you,” you hear Geralt mumble against your hair, before pressing a firm kiss to the crown of your head, “thought I’d gotten there too late to save you.” 

“You didn’t. You saved us, and that’s what matters.” You crane your neck as much as you’re able to capture Geralt’s lips in a tender kiss. “I’m just glad you came when you did.”

“As am I, dove.”

This time, the smile you flash him reflects nothing but genuine love and gratitude. You fall asleep in his arms, confident that he’ll watch over you and keep you safe. 

[damn-stark]

Last night

Boba Fett x reader

Requested by anon “Boba Fett x Reader pls? So basically the reader gets really drunk at a bar while he’s still sober so he takes her home and she convinces him to take his helmet off and he admits he likes her as well and they sleep together (actual sleep) and in the morning they both really happy and kisses and fluff?? tysm”

A/N- it’s my first writing for Boba so please be patient with me :)

Warning- talks of drinking and being drunk, fluff

———-

“Aha I won!” You exclaim as you jump to your feet, looking to Boba and swearing you could see double.

“That’s because I let you.” Boba admits, his voice sounding more serious than normal, but maybe that was caused by his helmet. “You’re bad at sabacc.”

You pout and feel tears flood your eyes even if you didn’t even want to cry. You finish your drink and the need to cry disappears quickly and gets replaced by overjoy. You walk around the table and wrap your arm around his neck, feeling your mind cloudy and unable to stop the words coming out of your mouth as you bat your lashes.

“Hey we should go back to your ship and continue our fun over there.”

Without a second to think of your suggestion, he gives you a one worded answer that surprises you. “Fine.”

You grin and slide your hand down to grab his, feeling your heart flutter at the feeling.

Only before you could express your excitement, you see him guiding you somewhere else that wasn’t his ship. Even if you felt like you were overly giddy and like you weren’t really in control of your own mind you notice— “Heyyy, this is not the way to your ssship.” You point out, not knowing you were slurring your words.

Boba moves his hand from yours and wraps it around your arm before you could trip over your own feet, answering only moments later. “I know, I’m taking you home—”

“Why?!” You exclaim angrily.

Boba sighs. “Because you’re not stable enough, you need to sleep.”

You scoff and want to walk back to the cantina, but he tightens his grip and pulls you towards your home, not letting go until you make it inside.

“So is it true that you haven’t taken off your helmet in a while?” You proceed to question once you’re inside.

“Yes. Now—”

“So...who’s seen your face?” You interrupt again.

Boba tries to move past you to help you settle, but you take his hand before he could go further into the room, changing the subject before he had the chance to answer your previous question. “Can I tell you something while I still have the courage to do so?”

Boba sets his stuff on top of the table and tilts his head down to look at your hand around his, interjecting in a much softer voice. Or just in one less serious than you were used to. “Do it while you’re sober.”

“I am!”

“You’re not.” He counters. “You’re drunk.”

Your eyebrows furrow and you feel your anger and annoyance boil within you again, but you don’t show it. “Even if I was, the word is that a drunk person always tells the truth. So just listen to me, please?”

Boba sighs, “fine.”

The corner of your lips twitch and you feel the flutter again, you have the slightest urge not to say anything, but you encourage yourself before that urge deflates your confidence. “I know that we were supposed to keep our relationship strictly professional, but I don’t think I can. For a while now my feelings towards you have grown into something that I haven’t felt for anyone else before.” You feel your entire face burn and your hand that had his tighten. “I like you Boba and I don’t want to stay here alone anymore, I want to go wherever you do.”

Bobas head lowers and he pulls his hand away from yours, expressing a low sigh before he moves his hand and lifts them to the bottom of his helmet, hesitating a moment before he slowly pulls it off his head and reveals his face to you for the first time. Revealing someone you had expected, but also hadn’t; regardless the man behind the mask made you smile and think that he was as handsome as you’d pictured.

“I feel the same way,” he reveals in a softer and non modified voice, putting his helmet down and cupping your face.

You attempt to step in to give him a kiss, but he pulls away and reassures the worry that he knew had grown.

“You may be sober enough to know what you feel, but I respect you and I can’t do anything else but share my feelings until you’re fully aware.”

“Fine,” you groan, “but at least stay here until I fall asleep?”

“Sure thing, darling.”

You turn on your heels and lead Boba to your room, walking to your refresher to clumsily change and not do much else since you had all of a sudden grown tired. It made you drowsy and not pay much attention to what Boba did, all you did know was that you lay next to him before you fully gave into a deep sleep. Not waking up until hours later at the sound footsteps coming in and out of the room.

When you peel your eyes open, you see the man you had suspected already awake. “Boba, what the hell?”

“I brought you water and something to ease your headache.”

You groan and sit up, instantly at that slight movement feeling the headache he had mentioned.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” He queries while he sits beside you.

“I do.” You nod, showing him a faint smirk. “I told you I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Sure.”

You smile and take the water from the bedside, moving to sit closer beside him. “Thank you for staying.”

“We're a team, as long as we are, I’ll be by your side.” Boba shares as he looks at you, letting you finally press a kiss on his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder. “So last night I do remember I was going to kiss you, but you pulled away, can I continue that now?”

Bobas lips twitch and his gaze meets yours before they lower down to your lips. He’s about to lean in, but you pull away this time. “Wait, let me go brush my—”

Before you could finish your sentence Boba cuts you off by kissing you first, cupping your cheek to pull you closer and deepen the kiss, pulling away moments later to show the small smile he had waited to fully show. “It doesn’t matter, I’ll kiss you whenever, no matter what.”

[violexides]

[slides in here] forest is here to be predictable and request “why can’t you just talk to me” saiouma if u can tysm <3

Ouma’s late again.

It’s not something that would inherently bother Saihara, is the thing. He’s always the earliest to places, always walks home quickly and gets back to his apartment nearly the same time each day. He usually has to wait for others-- his friend, Yumeno, took nearly an hour to come visit, once-- so it’s not something that should bother him. He shouldn’t be upset.

But, Ouma always does this. Ouma always has some business to take care of, something Saihara can’t discern (and what kind of detective-), and the supreme leader is always a step ahead, always disappearing somewhere and Saihara never knows where he is for hours, and the veneer of patience slips every time Ouma slips on his shoes, kisses his cheek, and goes off the grid. 

It’s terrifying, gives the phantom sense like there’s something Saihara could lose, something he can’t afford to lose, after litanies of missing-people cases he’s so terrified Ouma could slip through his fingers, but he can never articulate that in a way that Ouma would understand. Because, when Ouma loses people, he changes the rendezvous location, he runs, he plans, he tries again. He keeps those losses tied down inside him and would rather die than show how it’s hurt him. 

(Sometimes, it doesn’t feel like anything can hurt Ouma. Which makes Saihara worry, but how do you even breach that? How do you even ask someone about something like that? How could he even be sure Ouma isn’t lying, when he’s lied so many times, when he’s said he’ll come back so many times that he has to break the pattern at some point, get bored of Saihara and never return, and then? Then, would it even hurt Ouma?)

Saihara flickers with his phone, leaning against a cupboard while dinner cooks on the stove. He could call. He could call, but Ouma always says only call me if it’s important and this isn’t really important, is it? This is just how he is, and he would love to think that Ouma would take the call and would reassure him, swoop by and save Saihara from the stress of loving him, but neither of them are damsels in distress and neither of them could really ever be saved. 

Should he call? Should he call someone else, flip the phone and call Harukawa, who will sigh and listen to him with vague exasperation, a redux of the two of them years ago, eating lunch together, where she said he’s not good for you, not good for anyone, and Saihara wrote her off. He could call Momota, who would threaten to beat Ouma’s ass but back off if Saihara presses, but he doesn’t like that victory. And Yumeno is probably asleep, and Chabashira might not listen, and Kiibo is really busy these days, and Shinguuji is too, and and and-

Ouma picks up on the third ring. 

“Heyyyyyyy, Shu-shu!” he greets energetically, sounding vaguely out of breath. Saihara’s brows knit (but it’s not exactly like he can breathe, either. He’s a hypocrite). “Is something up? I didn’t think the baby was due for, yet!”

Neither of them could ever raise someone, not even attempt, if they would just follow their footsteps. Still, it’s a joke, and Saihara isn’t laughing but he is relieved that Ouma is joking. “Ah, no, unfortunately,” he replies, slumping a bit against the wall. “I was, uhm, calling to ask to see where you are?”

There’s a distinct pause, one that Saihara breaks with a sigh, and eventually Ouma replies in a slightly-off tone. “Oh, y’know, I’m at a courthouse committing arson!”

“Kokichi.”

“Well, you asking where I am takes the fun out of it, detective!” And what kind of detective- “... Jeez, fine! I’ll be back by tonight. I always am!”

You’re not, Saihara wants to reply, because if you always came back, then I wouldn’t be so afraid, right? I wouldn’t be scared that you’ll leave, that you’ll disappear, that you’ll die. I wouldn’t be so scared, because I’m not impractical, I’m just a worried lover but I’m not fussing over you, there is a reason to be afraid, and-

Ouma has a subtle way of making Saihara feel like he’s losing control of everything. It makes the control he does have all the better, but when it slips out of his hands, when he doesn’t know…

“Jeez, am I that boring that you had to fall asleep on the phone? Wake up, Shu-shu!”

Saihara realizes how quiet he’s been and awkwardly coughs, speaking up again. “Ah, sorry. I got lost in thought, uhm.”

“Anything else I can do for you, my beloved? I have to run away from the cops now, so…”

“Why-” Saihara cuts himself off before he can start. He knows that it’s unfair, that putting that on him is so fucking unfair, but nothing about the two of them is fair, or just, or right. Because he’s always so scared, and there’s a kind of thrill in their relationship that he didn’t expect, didn’t want, and all he really wants is for Ouma to come back with no injuries, no scars, no fines, no prison sentences. And, Saihara knows he can’t set his expectations that high with the other, that he has to numb it down to something like can’t you just be honest with me, but is it even right, to lower the bar at all? And, and, and- 

Before he knows it, he’s saying, “Why can’t you just talk to me?”

He immediately wants to bite it back, the sharp silence on the line setting him on edge. It’s… it’s important to talk to Ouma about this, he knows he has to, he knows that their relationship isn’t all that great and he needs to work through it with the other in some way, but the quiet reminds him of his hesitance. 

Ouma responds, eventually, his voice as casual as ever, but with an undertone of something, a flicker of an emotion Saihara can’t discern. “Are we not actually talking right now. Ring-ring-ring, honey, I’m calling you on the telephone, can you hear me?” Can you hear me, can you hear me-

“I meant, uhm-”

The emotion is less discreet when Ouma interrupts him, stating, “I know what you meant.”

… What does Saihara say to that? “Uhm, s-”

“It’s been super super fun, Shu-shu,” his voice is back to normal again, the anger shining through before being carefully suppressed, and all Saihara can think is dammit. “But I gotta go catch a flight to Vegas! Really sorry, I hope to talk to you soon, my schedule is sorta filled with embezzlement plans but-”

Saihara is the one who hangs up.

He slides to the floor, looks at the ceiling, ignores the dinner still cooking-- probably burning-- on the stove. They need to work through this, can work through this, just need to get a couple counselor or spend a couple hours talking about everything…

… but Ouma feels so, so far away from here, and Saihara isn’t even sure where here is.

And. And, that’s just the way their game of chasing each other has always gone, even if neither of them want to play it anymore.

(Ouma does come back, gets home when Saihara is half-asleep at some hour of midnight, kisses him as an apology and stays at home, with him, for the next two days. But by day three, Saihara gets up to a rose on the bedside table and a text message, and he wonders how long one person could ever chase another.)

[leviathans-watching]

Sticks & Stones Chapter 9 (final chapter)

wow I can't believe we're at the end

tysm for reading and staying till the end if you did! I appreciate the love this fic was shown 

I do take requests, so if you’re interested in that you can submit an ask or smth

masterlist here for newcomers!!

*

You had politely declined Asmo's offer to help you get ready for the movies with Mammon, which is how you found yourself in your bathroom, trying to make yourself presentable.

It wasn't that you didn't want his help, it was just that if this did turn out to be a date, you wanted Mammon to be going to the movies with you, not the you Asmo made up.

You knew your line of reasoning was kind of silly, but whatever.

Leaning over to rinse your face, you marveled at how soft your skin was after Asmo's treatment. He had gone all-out with the spa treatment and you were grateful, as it left you feeling refreshed and cleansed.

I'm never going to look good, I should go ask Asmo- You thought, before cutting yourself off.

No, this was something you had to do for yourself, and plus, you had the reassurance Mammon already thought you were attractive.

Thinking back over the past week, you were amazed. You never knew the boys could be so sweet, and even if it had been awkward, all of their words had been nice, albeit slightly overwhelming to hear.

Asmo had apologized for the night before, saying he hadn't meant to lose control, and you had thanked him of apologizing and reassured him it was alright.

You guessed you needed some tough love every now and then.

Brushing your hair, you styled it, smiling at your reflection, satisfied.

Checking the time on your DDD, you realized you had a little less than an hour until Mammon said he would swing by your room, which was perfect.

Pulling on the outfit Asmo had helped you pick out the night before, you sat on your bed to wait.

Putting on a show, you let your mind wander, back to the boys. You just couldn't stop thinking about all of the sweet things they had said and done for you. They would deny it, but Lucifer even let you take a day off from RAD, which was a big deal.

They had all been there for you and made sure to watch out for you, saying all these kind things that were totally out of character for them.

Maybe they had made a big deal out of a couple of bad days, but you were touched.

So it had led to you and Mammon fighting, but you had forgiven each other, realizing you both needed to let it go and accept you were both in the wrong.

You knew, even while you were mad at him, he had no ill intentions to you, and was just trying in his own way to make sure you were okay. Plus, he probably was pressured into telling by the rest of them.

Honestly, you weren't sure why it took you so long to realize you liked him.

You always would seek him out, and it went way more than in an "oh he's my best friend" type of way. Your eyes would instinctively go to him whenever something happened for his reaction, and you just felt so comfortable with him.

You would just chalk it up to you being terrible at deciphering your feelings at leave it at that.

Checking the time on your DDD, you realized it was nearly time.

Mammon had a habit of running a little late, so you weren't expecting his head to peek around your door. "Ready to go?"

Standing, you met his smile with one of your own. "Yep!"

Mammon led the way, and the two of you walked down the front walk. "I figured since it's so nice today we could just walk," Mammon looked over for your opinion, and you nodded.

It was unusually warm, even for spring, the sun providing ample warmth that was offset by the light breeze.

"MC, I uh," Mammon hesitated, and you looked over at him. His face was red beneath his sunglasses.

"Yeah?"

"You look nice," He got out quickly, not meeting your gaze, and you felt a matching blush heating up your cheeks.

"Thanks! So do you." He did look nice, in the same jacket he had lent you earlier in the week with a white button-down half tucked into back skinny jeans. It was obvious he had put effort into making his hair look artfully messy as well, but you had to admit, he could pull it off.

"Thanks," Mammon stuttered out, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest.

You were not as nervous as you expected yourself to be. Mammon always set you at ease, and this time was no exception, so it was natural to step closer to him, so your arms brushed.

Making it to the theater, you got in line, as there was already a short one formed. The movie wouldn't start for a little bit so you had time to get popcorn and snacks. Wondering what they offered in the devildom in lieu of movie snacks, you jumped slightly when Mammon tapped you.

"What kind of food should we get?" He asked, and you shrugged.

"I don't know." Looking over the menu you saw they did have popcorn, which you were thankful for, but you didn't recognize anything else. "How about popcorn and then your favorite thing, since I've never had any of it?"

Mammon pursed his lips. "What if ya don't like it?"

"More for you, I guess."

Falling into comfortable silence, you checked your DDD, opening Devilgram. As usual, Asmo's story was wild, making you huff out a laugh.

Mammon stiffened beside you, and you looked up questioningly, tuning in to the sounds and conversations around you.

Two girls, a witch and a demon, were gossiping behind you, talking shit about how you must have dragged Mammon here.

"...He's so hot, too. It sucks that he's unavailable all the time now, dealing with them. And they're not even cool like Solomon is..." The voices faded out as the girls walked away.

Mammon put his hand on your arm, but you just rolled your eyes, surprising him.

"This week taught me more than I expected, I guess." You explained, and Mammon smiled. "Plus, what do you think they would do if they knew THE great Mammon was the one who wanted to see this movie in the first place, not me?" You teased, and Mammon laughed, eyes still not losing the worried edge.

You were fine, though. You were at the movies with Mammon, the second born demon lord, for maybe a date, and had just spent the last week with the rest of the demon lords falling over to try to reassure you of your worth.

So, you didn't really care what those girls had to say. They were probably jealous, anyway.

With this revelation, that you, a human, could make a demon and a witch jealous, you got a burst of confidence.

"Hey, Mammon, is this a date?"

"What!" Mammon sputtered, face turning red. "MC, ya can't just say something like that!"

"Mammon," You whined, feeling like you had the right to tease him. "Are you saying this isn't?"

"MC," He tried, and you looked up at him, ready to go at him some more, but the words on your tongue faded when you saw something in his eyes that gave you pause.

"Do you want it to be a date?" He finally asked after what seemed like an eternity of staring at each other, and you licked your lips nervously, watching as those damn blue eyes flicked down to track the movement.

"Do you?" You got out, and Mammon sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Isn't that obvious?" He asked with a wry smile, and your heart skipped a beat.

"Well, good, 'cause I want it to be one too," You nodded, and Mammon relaxed.

"Good."

"Good."

You stared at each other for a second, but during the conversation you had made it to the front of the line and the attendee was waiting on you to give him your tickets.

Awkwardly letting Mammon go through the transaction, you let yourself get used to the idea, that yes, Mammon had confirmed you were on a date.

"Hey," Mammon got your attention, handing you a thing of popcorn and your cup. Smiling gratefully at him, you let him get the receipt before walking over to the drink machines.

After properly doctoring up your popcorn and filling your cups, you made your way to the showing room and found your seats. At first it was fine, the light conversation flowing easily between you two distracting you, but as soon as the lights dimmed and it got quiet, you knew you were in trouble.

Mammon was just... so distracting. You weren't watching the film, instead looking at him, trying not to be too obvious.

He was focused on the screen entirely, leaving you able to observe how the light flashed against his skin and how his expression would shift thought the scenes.

You were going crazy.

A couple of times your hands brushed while reaching for popcorn, and he turned to look at you then, lips quirking up in a grin.

It was so cheesy.

When the lights came back on, you stood with him, stretching, listening to him babble about the movie. You had a vague idea of what he was talking about, but the more nuanced stuff was lost on you, but you listened anyway, following him as he excitedly led you out of the theater.

When you made it outside, the air was cool against your skin, and Mammon immediately offered you his jacket.

"Wow, really pulling out all the stops, huh?" You took it, slinging it around your shoulders, and Mammon scowled lightly at you, but you could tell there was no heat behind it.

"Ya should be honored!"

Getting the sense that he didn't want to go back home as much as you, you wandered, eventually ended up sitting on the same park bench you had sat on almost a week before.

"MC, I really like ya," Mammon was hesitant in the dark and you almost wished you could make out the blush that accompanied those words. "I think you're the smartest and bravest and coolest, and not to mention, ya put up with all of us, which puts ya in a league all on your own," Mammon continued, and you chuckled. "And I guess I wanna make sure ya know you're not alone."

"Mammon," You breathed, and very gently, his hands were cupping your cheeks, cradling them.

"Can I kiss ya?" He asked, and you nodded, knowing he could feel the motion.

His lips were soft and gentle, pressing against yours in an unbearably sweet way. You sighed a little, and Mammon hummed, smiling into the kiss.

He drew back slowly, reluctantly.

"So don't go thinkin' you're alone if ya feel bad or somethin' stupid like that." Mammon pressed his forehead into yours, and you nodded once more, finding his hand and squeezing it.

Mammon was your best friend. You could show him every ugly part of yourself, bare every inch of your soul, and he'd be there to wipe your tears and make it better every time, and you knew, you'd do the same for him. It only made sense that the feelings went further than either of you knew.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Tags: @nimeryaa​ @omgapolarbear​ @crispyarttravelhumanoid​

Chapter 1

Masterlist

[steverogersnotebook]

Neighbors - Sofa Date

NEIGHBORS

Recovering TJ Hammond and Steve Rogers (between TWS/CW) who try to find comfort on sleepless nights through baking, music, and friendship. An offer to share company and their mutual talents when being alone is just too much leads to friendship.

(my inbox is open for ideas, prompts and headcanons)

NEIGHBORS fluff | gen [platonic friendships] / Steve & TJ Hammond | minor romance TJ & OMC Julian [SERIES of oneshots]

[read on ao3]

A/N: I started this for Valentine’s Day 2017 or 2018. I don’t know what the holdup was, It’s been almost complete ever since. Well, better late than never!! TYSM every one!

The heavy bag landed atop the previous three, in no better shape, all losing their fill through the ruined covers, causing Steve to wonder if he’d ever find something that could stand up to his strength and frustration instead of prematurely exploding.

Though these troubled nights were on the decline with the catharsis of baking and having friends like Sam and TJ, sometimes, baking just didn’t cut it and he was loathe to push himself into his friends’ space - again - and Steve would resort to a little controlled destruction.

Tonight wasn’t going down without a fight. He’d tried to get some rest after the call came telling him that in a few hours they were ‘wheels up’. It had been fruitless and resulted in a run. He’d amped up his speed and set a course for himself that should have done the trick, but after running fast and far, Steve’s run and subsequent shower didn’t put him any closer to a settled state.

Next try, the kitchen, resulting in cookies and fudge. Ordinarily he wouldn’t bother with something like that in the hours before a mission, knowing he’d be gone for an unknown number of days, but tomorrow was Valentine’s day, and he’d yet to figure out what to do for TJ.

Even though TJ wasn’t alone this year for the holiday, it felt like a tradition. He didn’t have many of those left, so it just felt like something he had to do.

Making fudge from his Ma’s recipe had brought both her and Bucky’s sister to mind. The memory of their childlike joys - from sampling the finished product to trying to cut the fudge into shapes with a knife, not just simple boring squares, to entertain Becca - and the rich aroma had provided all the comfort he’d expected.

Clearly, Steve thought as he unwound tape from his wrist, It just wasn’t enough to quell the agitation over the continuing uneventful search for Bucky and the stress of the impending mission.

So that was how he wound up tearing up heavy bags in a dimly lit gym. He really did need to find a new schtick. And he definitely needed a second shower.

Lying across his bed after his shower, unable to relax - still - Steve laughed at his naive expectations. He reached toward the end of his bed to drag his t-shirt to him as he sat up. Steve tugged the thin fabric over his half-dried hair. He stretched the soft, worn fabric hem over the waist of his pajama pants.

“Might as well finish the thing,” Steve’s voice echoed through the quiet space. He shuffled his stockinged feet across the smooth, clean floor. The glow from the light over the stove led him to the frosted confection. Fingers that had sported bruises when he came home, but were now perfectly pink gently tapped at the icing to see if it had set up.

Satisfied with the firm, smooth texture, Steve inspected the box made from cookies for any weak points before filling it with heart-shaped fudge pieces. Overkill? Maybe, but he could laugh it off with TJ. The thought propelled him out the door and down the stairs until he stood in front of TJ’s door, in his pajamas.

Oops.

He wondered if this was the best idea - if it was even ‘proper’. Shoving doubts aside in favor of not spending the next few hours sweating over yet another physical distraction or tossing and turning fitfully, Steve knocked on the door.

---.---

TJ was just putting the finishing touches on the last of the heart shaped cake pops that he’d decided to bravely tackle on his own, when the knock on the door startled him. Well, maybe he could salvage it, he thought as he wiped his fingers on the flour sack towel and headed for the door.

He wasn’t expecting the sight of Steve standing in the doorway wearing brightly colored socks, brown plaid pajama pants, and a stretched out, yet still too small purple t-shirt threw him. He looked -- anxious.

“Steve, you okay? Come in.”

“Yeah, I thought I’d bring this by.” Steve looked around the apartment as he handed TJ a heart-shaped box, made from layers of cookies. “I’m not interrupting?”

“Of course not. Thanks, wow. This is -” TJ lifted the top cookie that doubled as a lid, to see heart-shaped fudge inside the hollowed out cookie box. “Beautiful.”

“Ma’s old recipe.” Steve’s smile was a weak attempt.

“I can’t wait to try it. Come, sit down.”

“It’s Valentine’s day, you must be expecting Julian, I don’t want to get in the way.”

“Valentine’s Day Eve, and nope, not expecting him until tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Steve sighed. His relief was almost as palpable as whatever was troubling him. “TJ, would you mind playing something - I don’t know - mellow?”

TJ didn’t bother asking, again, what might be bothering Steve. He simply made yummy sounds as he set the box on the piano.

They both sat, Steve heavily on the sofa and TJ eased onto the piano bench. His fingers touched the keys and the first thing to come to mind was the tune Steve had requested the night they’d met. The wan smile from moments ago softened and Steve closed his eyes. Two and a half tunes later, Steve sighed before sitting forward with his elbows on his knees. “So, you do have plans for Valentine’s Day?”

“Me? Other than some iffy cake pops, no, but Julian says he has something planned for me. Miles is with his mom this week.”

“How glad are you that Miles and I broke the ice for you two?”

“Are you still trying to take credit? You know it was my legs and ass,” TJ chuckled.

Steve’s smile eased some more. “I’m glad it’s working out, TJ.” He rubbed his palms up and down the length of his thighs before sitting back against the cushions again. “I’ve got to head out in a few hours.”

“More top secret stuff?” TJ turned away from the piano keys.

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. “You know, just once I wish I could confide in someone outside of it all.”

“Yeah. Hey, have you considered talking to a therapist?”

“I did think about it. I can’t figure out how it all works now. With everything - I mean with S.H.I.E.L.D. - it had to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. approved doctor. You know, definitely not outside. Then after - who’s qualified? Who’s not a security risk? I’d rather talk to you. You, I trust.”

“That really means a lot, Steve.” TJ couldn’t begin to express how much it meant without losing all dignity. Not that Steve probably thought he had any. “If it gets to be too much, you still could. I know a thing or two about security.

Steve pulled his feet up onto the cushion, the limber bastard looked deceptively small just now.

“Hey, you wanna see what I’ve been trying to do?” TJ knew it was a lame attempt at a topic change, but it was less awkward than a pained awkward silence would be.

“Yeah, sure.” Steve looked over his knees at TJ.

“Steve, are you frightened?”

“No more than usual. Just - when will it stop? I thought it was over when I woke up in this new world. It wasn’t. I thought we were doing something by bringing S.H.I.E.L.D. down. We didn’t.”

“You did, rousting so many corrupt agents and supporters,” TJ lunged forward in his urgent attempt to mollify Steve, nearly toppling the piano bench. “I mean -”

“Thanks, TJ. I know what you mean. There are still cells out there - and it doesn’t feel like we’re ever going to find the end. So -” Steve uncurled from the compact shape and surged to his feet - feigned energy mingling with whatever the serum did to make him quick and agile. He followed TJ to the kitchen. “- What’s your project?”

“Valentine’s gifts for my best friend and my boyfriend.” TJ knew that he still flushed when he said the word, but Steve wouldn’t harass him for it.

“I’d rather be watching Miles for you two to go on your date tomorrow.”

“How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

“Possibly a week. Hopefully just a week.”

TJ plucked away the blob of now hardened icing that had plopped over the edge of the heart “I was doing well, the knock on the door startled me. You think I can salvage it?”

“Yeah. Hey, these look great. If you can get most of that off so that it’s flush, you should be able to give it a little touch-up with the red. Then you can go back to decorating.”

“I was going to do roses, but gave up early on. Hearts are my speed right now. Maybe I can practice roses before Julian’s birthday.”

“Of course you can. Maybe we can figure it out together.” Steve spread his hands across the flat plane of the countertop, “If you’d like.”

“Of course. It’s your fault I even considered this. You should have to do the time.”

“Where are the rejects?”

“Nonexistent,” TJ said, fighting a grin. “Not as in ‘TJ didn’t make any mistakes but this one’ - but as in, ‘I ate them’.”

Steve smiled, shaking his head “I should have known.”

TJ painted red candy coating over the white spot on the damaged cake pop with a surprisingly steady hand, considering how close he was to laughing at them both. “How’s this?” He held the confection towards Steve for inspection.

“You’d have to know about the mistake to find it, but if you’re nervous about it, you could give that one to your best friend and pick out the pristine ones for Julian.”

“Says my best friend.”

“Me?” Steve’s feigned surprise was terrible.

“You don’t go undercover do you?”

“Occasionally.”

“Well, don’t get yourself caught and killed, okay? Cos that was terrible acting. How do you feel about a Valentine’s Eve pizza and movie until you have to take off? Or you’re welcome to crash on the sofa if you just want to unwind.”

“There will be no crashing for many hours,” Steve confided. “I’ve had this nervous energy for several hours, went to the gym. It helped a little. Got home and tried to unwind and now I’m here. Pizza does sound great.”

“So, did you snag yourself a Valentine this year? Anybody going to be disappointed you’re ditching them on the big day?”

“No, I haven’t been looking. If you’d like, I can have Nat give you a call and you two can plot against me?”

“No, hey, if you’re happy - that’s what matters.”

“I sent flowers to Peggy. They’ve moved her back to England. I think I’ll stop by before I come back.”

“Might be just the thing.” TJ picked up his phone to order pizza. “The usual?”

“Hm. Yeah, sounds good. Am I overthinking the dating thing?”

“Probably. It seems like you’re trying to avoid a long-term thing, and in the process you’re missing out on good company and fun things like shows, dinner, and weird but enjoyable adventure dates. I’m not the only person who likes those things, Steve.”

“You’re saying I’ve been using you as a surrogate?”

“People have asked if we’re dating. Even after I started seeing Julian. I don’t mind it, it’s good for my reputation. You’re probably suffering in that department though.”

“I’m willing to take a hit for your burgeoning reputation,” Steve teased.

“That’s why you’re my best friend. Here - bestie - Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Steve took the offered arrangement of cake pops with a warm smile. “Thank you, TJ. You’re not getting any flak from Julian about our friendship, are you?”

“Hell no. He loves that you sized him up both in and out of the Iron Man costume. He was intimidated enough to ask if there was something between us. But I let him know the only competition he has is if he messes up your pastry apprentice.”

“Damn straight,” Steve laughed.

--.--

Music filled the Audi but it might as well have been silent for as much attention Julian paid the noise. His mind was chock full of loneliness. The same thing that he experienced every time he had to drop Miles off at the ex’s.

He tried to think ahead to his Valentine’s plans for TJ. A late brunch, followed by an afternoon and evening on the town. It should be enough to sustain him through the night, but the glaring silence that he’d pretended to look forward to - the lack of childish glee and minor tantrums - made him restless.

Long fingers stroked a strong, smooth jaw before clicking the car stereo off and turning the car toward TJ’s apartment.

He recognized the pizza delivery guy as their regular from TJ’s favorite pizza joint. As they both got out of their cars at the same time, he nodded toward the guy, “223?”

At the nod of recognition, Julian smiled. “Let me take that off your hands.”

“It’s already paid for,” the kid spoke up when Julian reached for his wallet.

“Right. Then this is for you.” Julian smiled. “Thanks. Be careful out there.”

The kid took the cash and grinned. “Thank you, you too - uh - I mean - have a good evening.”

Julian saluted him as he passed, balancing the two jumbo pizza boxes on one hand. He carried them inside wondering if Steve had stopped by, TJ wasn’t expecting him and that was a lot of pizza. Julian let himself in, as he was accustomed to doing, and stopped short when it looked like Captain America might take him out without hesitation.

--.--

They both turned toward the door when it opened. TJ wasn’t surprised, but Steve - unaccustomed to this type of visit - was nearly to his feet, prepared to fight. TJ had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing. “Jules, you startled us.”

“I come bearing pizza, is that enough to cover the price of admission? And buy forgiveness?”

Steve backed down instantly, knowing Julian wasn’t a threat. Still, he appeared ready to bolt without notice.

TJ met Julian with a kiss, which went a long way toward alleviating his loneliness.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. You think there’s enough for one more?”

“I see you accosted our delivery person.” TJ followed Julian around the sofa, trying to take the boxes, before giving up and letting Julian set them on the coffee table. “Did you tip well?”

“Of course.” Julian passed a large hand through his wavy hair before putting his palm on the side of TJ’s neck, “Do I look like a barbarian?”

“Jury’s out.”

“Hi Steve. I really hope you don’t mind me crashing. Couldn’t sleep.”

“Julian,” Steve nodded, the momentary shock had melted away and he smiled at the friendly greeting. “I know the feeling. The more the merrier.”

“What kept you up?” TJ asked as he opened the pizza boxes and lined them up in front of Steve and Julian.

“Too quiet.”

“Miles is with his mom,” TJ laid a hand on Julian’s wrist. “You really should be having celebratory naps when he’s with her, that little one is always going.”

“That he is.”

“Must be hard,” Steve said. Loading his plate with slices of pizza, he again considered leaving. He just couldn’t get behind facing the loneliness. He definitely understood too quiet. It might be more permanent for him than for Julian, but the feeling wasn’t easy no matter how long it prevailed.

“Just the first few days. It’s so much easier to adjust to his coming back than his being gone. He loves it there, she’s really a great mom. I just - I’m learning how to behave in both worlds.”

“Let’s eat and watch a movie, maybe that will distract both of you for a bit.” TJ moved past them both to turn the television on. “None of that I hope I’m not in the way nonsense from either of you.”

Steve sat back against the cushions, his plate piled with slices of pizza balanced on the sofa arm next to him. “You’re the boss.”

“Yeah, for now,” Julian teased, tossing napkins on top of the pizza boxes.

“I’m offended,” TJ pouted as he sat heavily on the cushion next to Julian, and sprawled half across Julian’s leg.

Steve snickered before taking a bite of one of his slices of pizza. The trio settled into the comfy sofa in hopes that the movie could distract them.

<<<>>>>

The vibrating phone in his pocket woke Steve. At some point in the movie, the sleep that had eluded him all evening had taken over. He didn’t bother looking at the phone, just slipped out of TJ’s apartment, leaving TJ and Julian snoozing on the opposite end of the sofa.

He tapped a quick reply to Sam, and took the stairs by twos and threes, silent except for one stair that creaked if you breathed on it. In his apartment, he sent TJ a thank you and another Valentine’s day wish before grabbing his gear from beside the door, deciding that he could change clothes on the way. Off to Lagos, for what he hoped would be a quick recon mission.

[arknights-imagines]

We have prompts and imagines with established relationships. But what about the step towards it? Do you think you could write something with Executor x Doctor? A confession a long the lines like that?

Hi anon! Another Exe request bsjsbs yes tysm keep them coming lolol 🤣🥺 anywho, I tried my best with this, so I hope you enjoy ✨

Oh, and now that CoB is over, I'll be back to working on requests as normal! 🥺 Tysm 🍡

--------------------

The Step Toward

Imagine format; From the perspective of the Operator

Contains: Executor, Gender neutral Doctor, Executor confessing to the Doctor, mushiness in general sbjshs 🥺

Word count: just about 1.6k!

--------------------

Love. An odd concept to Executor, perhaps the oddest concept he had been presented with yet. Yes, a concept - he never truly described it as a real feeling, after all, he had never felt it himself. He was aware people felt it, however; he had seen it changing the way people acted in his years of work. But like many things others around him did or felt, he never understood why such an intense feeling would arise.

That was precisely why Executor couldn't place his finger on the way the Doctor made him feel. They had met on business terms, as was expected. Because of his contract, he worked closely with them on many occasions. A professional relationship with no personal ties; that's what it was supposed to be. However, as time went on, Executor no longer saw the Doctor in his usual, mechanical worldview.

They never treated him any different for the way he lived or did things. The Doctor was warm to the Sankta, and he found himself being warm in return, even if it wasn't his intention. Executor wasn't a person who was associated with warmth attachment, in fact, he was quite the opposite. The Doctor, they were an exception.

"Executor?" Snapping from his thoughts, the Sankta blinked, looking up to meet the Doctor's concerned eyes, "You spaced out, are you okay?" Their voice was sincere, it always was. Executor inhaled discreetly, "I apologize, I am admittedly feeling different than usual today. Do not worry, I may just require some rest." He lied, though he wasn't entirely sure what he would've said if he had replied with honesty. Executor found it hard to concentrate when they were near - as a matter of fact, he found it difficult to focus even when thinking of them, and rest surely wouldn't solve that.

The Doctor nodded, offering a small smile, "I see, well, in that case, that's it for today. We can talk more tomorrow." Closing their files, they waved at him as they turned to leave, "Good night, Executor."

It took him a moment to reply, "Rest well, Doctor." As the Sankta watched them leave, he felt every cell of his body look forward to when he'd be able to see them again.

Love; was this it? Did Executor love the Doctor? Logically, he supposed - that made sense, but love wasn't logical at all, and the Sankta had begun to understand that. In any case, he couldn't place what he felt toward the Doctor, nor did he know how to act on it. Falling in love was the easy part; confessing what he felt was much harder.

Keeping it under wraps - Executor had considered that. But no matter how hard he tried ignoring it, the Doctor always occupied his thoughts, as if they were sat upon a shelf in his mind all hours of the day. With pretending his feelings didn't exist ruled out as a reasonable option, the only other course of action was to confess his feelings to the Doctor directly.

That was much easier said than done; what Executor felt was by no means a professional matter, and no matter the Doctor's reaction, his contract with Rhodes Island would be put in jeopardy. Still, with every passing day the Sankta slowly grew more urgent. As much as he tried to suppress it, the intense warming feeling they caused had begun to interfere with their conversations and discussions on missions; he found it unprofessional to keep apologizing for 'spacing out' or 'being tired'. It wasn't right to lie to them, even if his feelings were difficult for him, himself to fathom.

"Doctor." The calm tone of his voice didn't at all reflect the feeling that overcame him. From their spot at their desk, the Doctor turned their gaze toward Executor at the sound of his voice, "Yes, Executor?"

The Sankta stood from his smaller desk nearby, stretching his arms over his head for a moment, "I have completed the paperwork for today." Taking the thin stack of paper in his hand, the Sniper operator stepped toward the Doctor's desk, holding it out to them, "If I made any errors, please return the papers to me and allow me to fix them."

The Doctor smiled softly, taking the papers with a small 'thank you'. The Sankta pulled his hand back, trying to ignore the lingering tingle where their fingertips had brushed against his. He watched as they stood while yawning just a little, "It's almost midnight, Executor. Thank you for helping me, but you don't have to stay, you can leave for today." Executor shook his head lightly; if it was anyone else, he would've taken his leave. After all, he did of course have other things to attend to. But around the Doctor, his heart seemed to be controlling his actions for what seemed to be the first time in a long time.

"I will leave once you are completed your work for today. I apologize for assuming, but if I leave you alone now I think you will continue working into tomorrow morning." He followed them as they headed toward the window in their office nearby, "I cannot allow that, Doctor. Rest is required." They smiled a little sheepishly, "I see. Thank you for looking after me, I won't make you leave if you want to stay." The Doctor shifted to sit on the window cell at the bottom of the glass window, motioning for Executor to sit as well, "Here, you can sit. I'm just taking a small break from working."

The Sankta blinked for a moment before speaking in his usual steady tone, "If you insist." Giving them a second to adjust the position of their legs to give him space, Executor sat upon the window cell beside them, back leaning against the window frame.

The Sankta was quiet, one of his arms rested atop his propped up leg and his eyes focusing on the glass of the window; he only blinked and returned to reality when the Doctor leaned over and tapped his shoulder, their concerned eyes fixed on him. "Is there something on your mind?"

Executor stilled for a moment; or course there was, it was them. The longer the Doctor stared, the more intense the urge to touch and hold them was, the more intense the warming feeling in his stomach grew. Swallowing, the Sankta turned his gaze to them, his eyes less colder, "Doctor, I have something I think I should confess." His words left him quicker than usual, and the Doctor quirked a brow, "What is it?"

He wanted to be direct with them, but how could one be direct about feelings like the ones he felt? The words that wanted to leave him were unplanned and from his heart.

Executor let out a breath, before speaking in a tone that carried an odd edge of hesitance, "I am used to being seen and treated as an anomaly; others do not understand me, and I do not wish to understand them." The Doctor listened to his words intently, eyes staying on his own, "I do not feel the same way toward you. As a matter of fact, I do not see you in the same manner I do others. Doctor, being in your company is very interesting to me. I have desires around you that I have never had around any other person."

The Sankta watched as their lips fell agape, "I do not understand what this feeling is, but I understand it enough to be able to know this;" Executor paused, his eyes softening completely and his heartbeat growing faster, "Doctor, I wish to explore this feeling with you. If you do not reciprocate my feelings, that is fine. I am well aware that by my side may not be the most comfortable place for you. But if it's possible, please allow me to explore what I feel with you."

By the time Executor had finished speaking, his chest felt full of more emotion than he had ever experienced. The Doctor stared at him in silence for a second, before their face broke into a smile, "Executor, I feel the same. I want to be with you as well - I mean that." They seemed a little speechless, but the Sankta almost became at a loss for words too upon hearing their answer.

"Doctor, are you certain?" They nodded adamantly, smiling still as they leaned toward him, "Very, Executor. I think this is the most sure I've been of anything." The Sniper operator felt the tension leave his body, and a wave of relief and contentment replace it, As they leaned closer, a small mumble left his lips, "Doctor…" He tilted his head to the side slightly, his face centimeters away from their own.

The Doctor was silent for a few moments, "Executor?" They sounded breathless, their arms moving around his shoulders, "Can...I kiss you?" The Sankta felt his heart pound in his chest, his breath hitching for just a moment. Allowing them closer, he rested his fingertips on their cheek, inhaling before finally giving them a reply, "….yes."

They didn't waste a second; when their lips pressed to his own, the feeling like he was floating overcame him. Even if the Doctor had kissed him softly, the sensation in his chest was intense, yet put him at ease. Pulling back, the Sankta took a moment before he breathed out, "Doctor, thank you."

Wordlessly, they smiled, the happiness on their face almost tangible. With them so close and looking so unbelievably happy, Executor couldn't help but allow a miniscule grin to come to his own lips as well.

Executor was ready to take this path with them; he would put the Doctor before the mission, if need be. It didn't matter what he had to do, so long as he could continue to return to their side and explore the warm, intense feeling they caused him to feel for the rest of his lifetime.

[stateofloveandnegan]

It’s Alright - Gwilym!Brian May

can i request a gwilym!brian x reader where the reader just got stood up/broken up with so they are crying and they run into brian and he’s really concerned and tried to help her and it’s fluffy? tysm💓

It took me way toooo fucking long and I apologise for that! I really liked writing this, though, so I hope you like it too!

Requested by: @peachllobotomy 

“(Y/N), c’mon! You look great! I bet Stephen will say the same, don’t fuss about it, he may be already waiting for you!” Olivia screams from down the stairs of our apartment. She’s going to drop me off at the restaurant Stephen and I have agreed to meet at. I’ve been changing into different clothes for the past two hours and I’m still not entirely happy with what I’m wearing, but Olivia is right. Stephen may already be waiting for me.

I groan and stick with what I’m currently wearing: a nice, rather messy, but still fancy, blouse, a black skater skirt and a pair of doc Martens underneath. “Alright, mother! I’m coming.” I mutter as I go downstairs and walk up to her, getting in the car.

The drive to the restaurant is rather quiet, just some music playing on the radio as Olivia focusses on driving and I’m just daydreaming about as I’m looking outside. Once we reach the restaurant, the nerves suddenly kick in. “Shit..” I mumble and Olivia chuckles beside me, “Relax, silly. It’s gonna be okay. He asked you on this date, remember? It wasn’t the other way around, which means that he’s got to be really interested.”

I nod a little, my nerves getting a little less, “Yeah, thanks Liv. For the ride and for your advice. I’ll see you tonight or maybe tomorrow. Bye.” I say with a soft smile and peck her cheek before heading out and into the restaurant.

The restaurant is very nice and fancy, but not too fancy. The host smiles at me as I enter the restaurant and I walk up to him, “Hello, reservation for two on Willbruck.” I say a little nervously, hoping to have said Stephen’s last name right.

The host furrows his brows as he looks for the name before looking up at me, “I’m sorry, darling, there’s no reservation under that name…”

I raise my eyebrow in confusion, “Oh, well, maybe I misunderstood about reserving. Uh, do you have a free table for two?”. The host smiles softly and nods, leading me to one of the last free tables. It’s a really nice table by a window in a corner of the restaurant, a little away from the door, but still close enough so I can see who’s coming in or going out.

After fifteen minutes and the waitress coming by every five minutes or so, I finally decide to just order a drink. “A whiskey on the rocks, please...” I say with a soft sigh. The waitress gives me a sympathetic smile and nods, taking my order and soon bringing the beverage to me.

People keep giving me sympathetic and sad smiles as the time goes by, seconds turn into minutes, minutes turn into an hour. I’m about to gather my stuff and get up, when someone clears their throat. I’m hesitant to look up, tears in my eyes as they’re bloodshot. I look up, somehow expecting Stephen to stand there, an apology ready to be thrown at me, but it isn’t Stephen, at all. It’s a tall man I’ve never really seen before. “O-Oh, uhm- hi.”

The man smiles softly at me, “Hey, I couldn’t help but notice you tonight. Are you expecting anyone?” His voice is soft and honeyed and it’s just beautiful. “Uhm, I w-was expecting someone… but I’m v-very sure he isn’t coming.” I say in a shaky voice, with a smile that doesn’t at all reach my eyes, to which the man sighs softly.  “I’m so sorry. I’m Brian.” he says and holds out his hand for me.

“(Y-Y/N).” I take his hand in mine and shake it softly. “So, (Y/N), I know you’re probably not in the mood for a random guy talking to you, but would you, maybe, like to forget about the prick that stood you up and spend your evening with me instead?”

His words catch me off guard, but I can’t help the small smile on my face, the first genuine smile of the night. “I’d actually really like some company now.” I say in a soft and vulnerable voice, “And you seem like a very sweet guy. So yes, I’d like to forget about him and spend my evening with you.” I say and quickly wipe my eyes to stop the tears, sniffling a couple times to get my breathing back to normal. “I’m so sorry. I’m usually not a crybaby like this, I’m just afraid that my boyfriend is no longer my boyfriend.”

Brian smiles sympathetically, “He is an idiot for leaving you. Especially like he did, he’s no real man.” He takes the chair opposite from me in his hand, “May I?” I nod and he sits down. “In case you’re wondering… I’m here with my friends, but I see them practically every day and I didn’t think I’d get the chance of seeing you again, had I stayed with them, that’s why I’m here.”

A faint hint of red covers my cheeks and I smile at him. “I was wondering that, actually. But thank you. Really, you’ve already made my evening less miserable by showing up, let alone sitting with me.”

Brian and I talk, and eventually order to eat, for what feels like hours. He is such a goofball, but a gentleman at all times. At one point one of his friends who I now know as Roger, comes over to us, smiling softly at me as he tells Brian they’re heading home. Brian nods and bids them goodbye, waving at his other two friends. I give them a small wave of my own and they return it sweetly.

“They seem like great friends.” I say as we both watch them leave the restaurant. Brian turns to me with a smile and nod. “At times they drive me crazy, especially Rog and Fred. You just met Rog, Fred’s the one with the big mustache. Deaky is always the quiet one, but he’s a sweetheart, deserves the world.”

My heart flutters at how amazing he speaks of his friends, “Deaky?” I ask softly, “That’s a unique name.”

Brian chuckles, “Deaky is his nickname, actually. Comes from his last name Deacon. John is his first name.” I smile, my cheeks turning a bit red in embarrassment, “Ah- that makes sense.”

We stay in the restaurant for about half an hour longer, that’s when Brian speaks up. “I hate to put an end to this, but I’ve got a really long and tiring day tomorrow and I do want to catch a good night’s sleep.” He says and bites his lip, scratching the back of his neck.

I smile softly at him, “That’s entirely understandable, Brian. There’s absolutely no need to feel bad about it, if all, I’m almost feeling bad for keeping you here for so long..”

“Don’t!” He practically yells, chuckling and looking down to hide his embarrassment. “I mean, it was my choice to come up here and I definitely don’t regret it. I would definitely stay longer, but I just know that if I do, I’ll be a miserable asshole tomorrow and I don’t think the guys would appreciate that very much…”

I smile and wave it off, “Brian, you don’t have to give an excuse, I understand it, really. I just want to thank you for this amazing night.” a soft, genuine smile enters my face as I look into his eyes. I notice Brian’s cheeks heating up a little and mine follow suite. “Let me pay for this, as a thank you.” I say and Brian is about to protest, but I already wave at the waitress and she gets the hint, quickly coming over and letting me pay.

“Let me at least walk you home?” Brian asks quietly and hopefully. I smile and nod, “I’d really like that.”

Ten minutes later, Brian and I are walking side by side, our arms and hands occasionally brushing against each other’s until I can hear Brian mumble a quiet, “Fuck it.” and grabs my hand. I look up at him and smile sweetly, intertwining our fingers.

We walk in a comfortable silence, except for me giving him some instructions on where to go. Much too soon, for both our liking, we reach my apartment block. “This is my stop.” I say a little disappointed.

Brian lets out the softest of sighs and turns to look at the block before turning to me, “Before I leave, I just want to say that I don’t regret walking up to your table, at all.”

I smile at his words and I nod, “I don’t regret accepting your offer to stay, Brian. In fact, I’m very happy you came over, because I can easily say that I’ve just had one of the best nights of my life.”

We stare at each other for a moment, but for some reason, it feels wrong to just lean up and kiss him. A small part of me not over Stephen. I look down at his chest before looking up again. “I should go inside and you should head home.” I speak quietly.

Brian bites his lip and nods, “I know. Can I at least have your number?” I smile a little and nod, he hands me his phone and I put my number in it. He immediately calls me and hangs up. “Now you’ve got mine as well.”

“Good night, Brian.” I smile and I’m caught off guard again when he leans down and presses the softest of kisses on my cheek. “Good night, (Y/N).”

[milkandhoneyoongi]

striking a balance (jungkook scenario)

request: can i request one with jk where he’s had a bad day and takes it out on you and says rlly horrible stuff and so you overwork yourself and actually almost faint and then u guys make up + LOTS OF FLUFF AND ANGST AND SUPER LONG // i rlly love ur work, it makes me so happy seeing it!! 💓💓 tysm x

a/n: bruh… i went in… also may have misread the prompt a little bit but i think it should still satisfy your craving for a lot of angst if not provide a bit more… you’ll see what i mean also the gif doesn’t fit at all but thats okay

you can always send me a request here and view my old imagines here

genre: mostly angst but there’s fluff at the end

word count: 1,638 words

warnings: jungkook being… an asshole tbh… yelling, fainting, overworking, bad word

       You had always been okay with putting a little bit more effort into the romance department with Jungkook.  Really.  It didn’t bother you all that much, and in fact you liked to do it a lot of the time.  One of your jokes with Jungkook was that you always bought him flowers because he never had the time to go to the store for you.  You had accepted your role of putting the effort into the romantic elements of your relationship, and Jungkook would put the effort into the fiscal parts of the relationship.  Not that you didn’t have a job, but let’s face it, being an idol provided a lot more than whatever you were making.  

That’s why you always liked to finish up your tasks for the day and make sure you were home before him, wanting to be sure you had a meal ready, some music playing and maybe even some flowers on the counter.  

That was a position you never expected yourself to be in, holding a job throughout your studies to help your family.  You never expected to not be the breadwinner in your home, but that was only something you thought about when you visited home.  Jungkook did such a good job of making you feel comfortable and happy that you didn’t mind what moral compass you had skewed off kilter.  

Most days, your little detail-oriented displays of affection pleased Jungkook, being a great relief from his tough days at work.  Most days.  

On that day however, he entered the apartment with a huff, a heavy sigh masked with anger as he threw his bag and coat to the side.  You grinned happily, rushing to greet him at the door with a kiss on the cheek.  His disposition didn’t throw you off, as most days he came home like this, and you knew it was your job to make him smile again.  

He visibly stiffened at the feeling of your lips against his cheek, a face that resembled one of disgust as he pulled away.  

“Hey Kookie,” you chirped, a frown peeking through your words at his reaction.

“Don’t start this today,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair and pushing into the kitchen.  

“Start what?” Your eyebrows came together in confusion, following him at his heels.  “I made kimchi stew because it’s getting a little chillier.  I also got home earlier so I had time.”

“Of course you had the time,” he shook his head, almost laughing to himself.  

“What does that mean?” The frown was evident on your face now, but there was a scowl evident on Jungkook’s that made you worry that tonight wasn’t going to be a night you could make him smile.

“You always have time to do whatever you want,” he raised his hands angrily.  He inhaled a deep breathe.  “Maybe you should start working longer hours.”

“What?” You asked, not because you didn’t agree that you could work longer hours, but because you had always assumed he was okay with the setup.

“I just mean,” he looks away.  “I work all day so you don’t have to work as much.  How is that fair?”

You winced at his words.  “I didn’t know this.  I just always thought you were okay with…”

“Okay with what?  You being lazy and skimping on work so you can come home early?  Why would I be okay with that?” His voice isn’t raised but his tone is significantly sharpened.  Lazy.  Did he really think that you were lazy?

“I come home early so I can…” You gestured to the house around you.  

“You know what I mean, Y/N,” he snapped now, his volume raised.

“I really don’t,” you shook your head, confused.  “I always thought our tacit agreement was that I would make this house a welcoming place for you to return to after your longer days.  That me being home and being able to provide for you was enough to make up for the fact that I have to leave a little earlier to do so.”

“It really doesn’t work like that,” he scoffed.

“Okay, but you have never mentioned this before!” You raised your voice now to match his, genuinely lost at his accusations.  You could recognize that maybe he was right, and maybe you needed more hours at work to pull your weight around the house.  The thought had always been in the back of your mind, but it was always overshadowed by how much he seemed to appreciate all you did for him.  “I’ll try to put a little more time into my job.  For us.”

What was supposed to be something for your relationship very quickly became something only for him.  Staying late at work was excruciating, your boss using it as an excuse to give you more tasks.  Maybe it was a good thing, as you were probably in the running for some promotion at that point.  

You would return quite late, around the same time as Jungkook.  He had changed his routine so he would go shower the day off and you would cook something.  After the two of you ate he would leave his plate on the table and go relax on the couch while you cleaned up the kitchen.

Very quickly you fell into a nightmarish subordinate role in the household, rarely speaking anything of substance to Jungkook.  He had noticed, sure, but he only really saw an increase in your work ethic.  You couldn’t be mad that he didn’t offer to help, because just like he hadn’t about with your hours at work, you hadn’t asked.  

Jungkook began to notice something, though, that you didn’t.  You were slipping.

Most nights you didn’t get into the shower until well after nine, collapsing on the bed to sleep before you would wake up at 4:30 to head back to the office.  Your round the clock work schedule that he had asked for was slowly killing you.

He knew it was inevitable, but the night where you snapped would haunt him for days.  

The impetus was dropping a bowl.  He had left the kitchen to do his usual of watching some TV before bed, his eyes glued to his phone.  When he heard the sound of ceramic shattering and the expletive you let out, he stood up.

“Jungkook, I don’t understand why you can’t clean up sometimes,” you whispered harshly to yourself.  

“Don’t be like that,” he tutted, “You never asked me to help.”

“Okay but you never asked me to work more!  And then you got to yell at me all night,” you frowned, bending down to start picking up pieces of the broken bowl.  

He wanted to reach out to you and tell you to let him get it, but he had this nagging feeling that you wanted to fight tonight.  “Why are you starting this now?”

“Is there a better time to start it?” you asked, standing up and grabbing a dustpan to fully clean up after the mess.  

“I just have this feeling that you want to fight with me right now,” he shook his head.  “Why?”

“Because I’m fucking tired and now I’m cleaning up a broken bowl and I’m angry,” you panted, rising to your feet.  

Unlike the other times you had bent down and stood back up, however, you felt a wave of dizziness wash over you and you leaned against the counter as your knees buckled under you.  The exhaustion, both emotionally and physically took over as you nearly keeled over in the middle of your kitchen.

“Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice took on a tone of worry now, replacing the previous annoyance.  “Jagi, talk to me.  What is it?”

You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the tingling sensation that had occupied most of your body and refusing to move your hands from the counter and your gaze from the floor.

“Jagi!” Jungkook shouted, trying to snap you out of it and walking over to you.  He softly took the dustpan from your hand and placed it on the floor, leading you to a seated position on the couch.  “You’ve been working too hard.”  He mentally cursed himself as he realized that all of this could have been avoided if he had just kept his mouth shut that day.  You and him would have more time together, you’d fight less, and you wouldn’t be passing out in the kitchen.  “I’m so sorry, jagi.”

“About what?” You questioned innocently, and the fact that you didn’t recognize it was his fault that you felt so terrible broke his heart.  He sat down beside you on the couch, leaning forward with his head in his hands.  

“I shouldn’t have said those things to you,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.  “It’s my fault you’re overworking yourself now.  We had a balance and I just snapped and ruined it all.  I ruined us.”

“You think we’re ruined?” You murmured quietly, dropping your head on his shoulder.  He tensed up.

“Please, please go back to your regular hours,” he pleaded.  “I’m so sorry I ever said anything.  I miss coming home to your smiling face.  I miss eating dinner with you and talking about our days.  I miss falling asleep with you in my arms.  I miss you.”

“I’m so glad you say that,” you laid your head in his lap, lying on your back on the couch.  You let out a breath of relief as his fingers came to twirl in your hair, soothing you.  “I missed you too.”

He looked down at you sweetly.  “I’m so sorry I ever tried to change what we have.”

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you, too, jagi,” he smiled, leaning down and pecking you on the cheek.  “We’re gonna figure this out.  For us.”

[studiobeebo]

Bee omg congrats on 1k!!! I absolutely loved that event you did for 900 followers, could I request the "My dog got off the leash and I've been looking for him for an hour and somehow he managed to end up with you who I may or may not have the biggest crush on" prompt with Kirishima and fem!s/o?

TYSM MY DUDE, HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!

Kirishima Eijirou

As much as you hated to admit it, you often weren’t the one who walked the family dog as you were always able to get off the hook by explaining how tiring schoolwork was and now that you were in the hero course at UA, you had even less time to do so. Still, somehow you had ended up being the only one home and after about an hour of your dog whining and jumping around you, you finally had to give in and take her out.

Your little trip out already started out badly because you completely forgot to bring a bag with you, so when your dog did her business you were left to simply walk away in shame as an older woman who walked past you shook her head at you.

Following that, you never realized how much your own dog tugged at the leash when walking and you already knew you would probably have blisters from how hard you had to clench the leash in your hand, but when you were half way through the park and your dog layed eyes on a squirrel, you had no chance as she tugged so hard you fell face first and before you had the chance to regain your bearings, the leash had slipped from your hands and your dog was off in a mad dash chasing after that stupid squirrel.

You felt like you spent all afternoon searching for your dumb dog after that and you could have sworn you circled the park at least three times. You were starting to worry that maybe your dog had gone past the park’s limit and if she were anywhere in the whole city…you would have a very hard time finding her.

Because your worries were beginning to worsen, you were incredibly relieved to turn the corner to head to the parks entrance only to see your dog laying on her back happily wagging her tail as she received a belly rub from a stranger, only when you got closer you realized they weren’t a stranger at all.

“K-Kirishima!?” You practically squeaked, already horrified at the idea of your ridiculous dog bothering the one person you would hate to give a bad impression of you. It was embarrassing how clearly you felt you had been crushing on him, but he hadn’t seemed to notice yet, and while you loved every opportunity you got to talk to him, this was definitely not the situation you imagined.

“Oh (Name), hey! Is this your dog?” He beamed, giving you one of those cheery smiles that never failed to melt your heart all the while continuing to give your dog very undeserved loving.

“Yes! I mean yeah, I-I’m so sorry! She got away from me like an hour ago, I’ve been looking all over for her!” You breathed out, quickly making your way over to the two of them but not having the heart to start immediately yelling at your dog like you originally planned.

“Oh that’s alright, she’s not causin’ any trouble.” He said, giving your dog one last pat before standing up from his crouched position and stretching his arms above his head. “She’s really cute though! Guess she gets it from you.” He chuckled out awkwardly, scratching at the back of his head with what you swore was a faint blush dusting his cheeks, but once you processed what he had said, your cheeks were beginning to feel just as warm.

“Oh, yeah I mean..don’t let that cute face fool you!” You joked, stumbling over your words a bit as you fiddled with the leash that had taken its rightful place in your hands again. Part of you wanted to run away as quickly as possible, but the other wanted to stay and chat. If you’d noticed that Kirishima was currently nervously bouncing from one foot to the other, you would have realized that he seemed as indecisive as you, but his thoughts were a bit more bold compared to yours as he accidentally interrupted your next words.

“…Well I should probably get go-”

“Are you doing anything Friday?”

His words seemed to even surprise him as the two of you simply stared at one another with wide eyes for a moment before he cleared his throat and began to nervously fiddle with his thumbs.

“Oh sorry, I uh..I mean, sorry to keep you!” He exclaimed, already kicking himself for picking the worst time to finally man up and ask you out, but for you there could never possibly be a ‘bad’ time to be asked what you were praying to god he would ask.

“No, no that’s ok! Er, yeah, I don’t have anything going on Friday..what’s up?”

“Oh..” He stopped, looking at you with surprise as if he weren’t expecting you to even ask before that bright smile spread from ear to ear and he spoke up once again with a bit of pinkness fanning over his cheeks yet again. “I was going to ask if you’d want to go to the movies! O-or something like that, I mean, if you want to obviously!”

You had to laugh at first only because you couldn’t imagine turning down such an offer, hell you’d never even imagined he’d be the one wanting to go on a date with you, but despite how much your heart was racing that didn’t stop you from nodding eagerly. Before you had the chance to even open your mouth, however, you felt a rough tug to the forgotten leash in your hands that almost knocked you over again as your dog began tugging in the opposite direction, seeing something you obviously didn’t as she began to whine.

“I’d love to! I mean a movie sounds totally awesome, but I-” You were cut off after being tugged backwards again before you turned to give Kirishima a sheepish smile. “I don’t think she’s gonna let me stay and talk about it though. But you can call me! If you’re cool with that..”

“Yeah! I mean, absolutely!” He practically cheered, his cheeks beginning to hurt from how much he was smiling, but with how happy he was to hear that he could honestly care less. “Ok so I guess I’ll see you friday then?”

“Totally!” You responded, his contagiously sparkling smile almost making you forget the anxious dog who was currently tugging you along on your way, but even your dog couldn’t distract you from the fluttering in your chest and the excitement that was already bubbling up within you. “I’ll see you friday!”