#& if none of the prompts work for you please feel free to reach out off-anon & we can see about working something out!!

[notacowfest]

i found out about this just now :((((( devastated tbh bc ive been noodling on a robo fic but cant herd my brain cells into writing

oh, I'm so sorry you're just seeing us now! the world always needs more robo fic.

while sign-ups are technically closed, I will say that ao3's claiming feature is weird — so even people who aren't signed up can claim prompts and fulfill the claim for as long as submissions are open. so you could, theoretically, still participate in the fest so long as the fic you write for it is a fill for a prompt that you go ahead and claim now.

[fullofbees]

Anon requested Diavolo with prompt 76 from the smut prompt list.

CW: Sexually suggestive, nothing else!

»»----------► GN!Reader

"Young Master...? Young Master!" Barbatos's voice calls down the hallway.

The closet smells of chemicals and ancient dust, though it is too dark to read any labels. Diavolo has silenced you with a hand over your mouth, holding you in place as footsteps near your hiding spot. You try to will your wildly beating heart into silence when they stop in front of the door.

One moment... and then another... until you hear the butler sigh heavily and continue down the hall. You can feel Diavolo relax, letting out his own sigh of relief. You take hold of his hand, remove it from your mouth, and spin to face him.

"Forgive me, I may have been running from my work," he whispers, though his apology does little to hide his excitement at not getting caught.

You're silent with awe. Diavolo's golden eyes shine through the darkness, his irises glowing softly, reminding you of the wide-eyed nocturnal creatures back home. You try to step closer to get a better look, but your foot collides with a bottle and nearly trips you.

Diavolo quickly steadies you before bending down and moving the offending bottle out of the way. You hear him fidget with a few other items, setting them on the shelves beside you.

"Are you... able to see?" You ask, watching the disembodied eyes of the demon look up at you.

"Yes...?" He responds, eyes narrowing when his brow furrows in confusion as he stands up.

Without thinking, you reach out and make contact with his torso. You carefully pad your way up his chest until you can finally feel the warmth of his neck. His eyes are ever watchful, ever curious, never daring to part from your face. Even as your hands briefly trace his jawline, Diavolo waits with bated breath, eager for your next move.

Cradling his face, you make the future demon king hunch down to your level. You turn his head this way and that, inspecting his eyes from each angle, watching as the light waxes and wanes within them.

"Absolutely fascinating," you whisper, "None of the brothers' eyes glow like this. Is this typical of all natural-born demons?"

He nods, the action making you giggle when your hands move with him.

"Has this not been covered in RAD's anatomy class? I'll have to adjust the curriculum-"

You boldly cut him off, "It has. I had yet to see it firsthand. It's gorgeous."

"I'm happy to hear that you think so," Diavolo says, the burning of his reddening cheeks heating the skin of your palms, "Please, feel free to look as long as you like."

"Just look?" You ask with a teasing tone.

His wonderful laugh rumbles in his chest, and though he regretfully removes himself from your appreciative touch, it is rectified when his hands find your waist to hold your hips flush against his. "Barbatos can't be upset if I'm helping our dear exchange student with a private anatomy lesson."

Your laughter joins his, followed by a light gasp when his hands slide to the back of your thighs. He picks you up like it's nothing, pressing you against the wall with your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Even through the layers of your uniforms, you can still feel the heavy outline of Diavolo's hard cock pulsing between your legs.

"Do I turn you on that much?"

You already knew the answer. He does a terrible job of pretending he isn't undressing you in his mind whenever you walk into a room. It's funny how quickly he comes undone with one compliment from you; but you promise to use your powers responsibly. Still, you want to hear him say it.

"You don't even fucking know," he groans, rolling his hips so you can feel every needy inch of him.

•••✦ ❤ ✦••• Submit A Request | Read on AO3 •••✦ ❤ ✦•••

A/N: Another flirty intro for another gentle giant lmao

[lyranova]

Hello, I've been see all your works and it's really amazing. So..... If you don't mind, can I request Nacht, Yuno, William and Nozel X Reader with Prompt list Angst no. 47 “You deserve better.”, General no. 1 “I love you.” “Tell me that when you’re sober.” and General no. 7 “Is that blood?” “Yes but that doesn’t matter right now, what does matter is-” “You are literally bleeding."

I'm sorry if I ask too much request and I'm sorry for my grammar and thank you! 😊.

Hiya anon! No worries your grammar is perfectly fine so please don’t apologize 🥰! So for my oneshots I only do a maximum of one character, unless there are other ships that are more in the background or that interact with the main one or if the relationship is supposed to be polyamorous. But for this I decided on Nacht since he seemed to fit the prompts better, so if you’d like to request a fic for William, Nozel, or Yuno please feel free to ask again 🥰! I also couldn’t fit in the last prompt which I apologize for, but I hope you enjoy~!

Word Count: 532

Warnings: None

———

Nacht wasn’t usually a drinker, sure he indulged in a glass of wine every now and then, but that was only on special occasions or really bad days. But today he drank more than one or two glasses of wine, why? Because the person he loved asked him to.

They had told him that they couldn’t sleep and were having a few glasses of wine to see if it would help and they asked if Nacht would join them. At first he declined, but after thinking it over he changed his mind and agreed. He didn’t want them to be lonely.

But before either of them knew it they both drank the whole bottle. They were just so wrapped up in their conversation that they didn’t even notice until Nacht went to pour himself another glass.

He watched in amusement as the person he loved pouted at the empty bottle.

“ Looks like we’re all out,” they pouted as they suddenly stood, causing Nacht to do the same. He watched as they swayed a bit. “ I guess that means we need to call it a night!” They continued, their voice a little slurred.

They went to walk around the table and stumbled a bit, Nacht rushed over and helped hold them up. They quickly waved their hand and muttered an ‘I’m fine’ but of course they were not fine. They were drunk. Very drunk.

“ Come on let’s get you to bed,” Nacht said softly as he half carried-half led them to their bedroom.

The walk to their bedroom was silent, save for the sound of their shoes clicking against the floor. Nacht held them up as he opened the bedroom door, he led them inside and gently laid them down on the bed. Nacht then leaned down and took off their shoes before he grabbed their blanket and threw it over them. When he went to move they suddenly reached out and grabbed his hand.

“ I love you,” They told Nacht softly, their voice groggy from the alcohol and because of sleep. Nacht sighed before he removed their hand from his wrist and placed it back at their side.

“ Tell me that when you’re sober.” Nacht told them simply, they nodded before they drifted off to sleep. Nacht smiled sadly as he gently reached out to touch their face.

“ Actually…just forget about telling me that at all.” Nacht said softly as he stroked the side of their head and cheek.

“ You deserve better than me. You deserve someone…who isn’t damaged or broken like me, you deserve someone who isn’t afraid to tell you that he loves you because he’s scared he might lose you.” Nacht told them softly as his thumb gently rubbed their cheek, he sighed before he walked towards the bedroom door.

“ I love you too, but for your sake, I hope that you remember nothing that happened tonight.” He said quietly as he shut the door behind him. As Nacht walked further and further down the hall his heart broke more and more, a part of him hoped that they would remember the conversation tonight, but the other part hoped they wouldn’t.

They deserved better than him. A lot better.

———

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

[bluejayblueskies]

Hello! I love your writing, the hand holding over the table was so much feelings <3 can I prompt 29. tickling the other one? No pressure :-)

touches prompt list

thank you for your patience with this anon! i offer you some scottish safehouse jonmartin fluff <3

.

It starts when Martin wraps his arms around Jon’s midsection while Jon is cooking, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of Jon’s sides, and Jon flinches so hard he drops the wooden spoon in the pot of red sauce.

“Oh, shit. S-sorry,” Martin says. He pulls his hands back quickly, but they touch Jon’s sides again as he retracts them. Jon can’t help the high, reedy sound that escapes him, and he feels his cheeks grow warm.

“It’s—fine.” Jon fishes the spoon out of the pot, wrinkling his nose at it before depositing it unceremoniously in the sink. “Just, um.” He debates the pros and cons of being honest before mumbling, “I’m rather … ticklish.”

“Oh.” Martin’s forehead creases, like he can’t quite decide what he’s supposed to do with that information. “On your sides?”

“Y-yes. And, um.” Jon looks down at the ground, then at a random point over Martin’s shoulder. “A-and … everywhere?”

Martin raises an eyebrow. “Everywhere?” he echoes.

“Well.” Jon frowns. “N-not everywhere, I suppose. My nose is, er, relatively safe, a-and my fingers.” He taps his fingers on his thighs a few times. “I just … have really sensitive skin. A-and I don’t…”

He trails off. It feels too vulnerable, suddenly, to say that he’s really not touched often by gentle hands, so every feather-light brush of skin against his is like a shock to his system. “I don’t usually have to worry about it,” he says instead, which seems vague enough. He thinks Martin understands what he’s really saying, though, because a moment later, a hand is on his (touching, Jon notes, only the fingers) and a kiss is pressed gently to the tip of his nose.

“Well,” Martin says softly. “I can be more careful from now on if you’d like.”

Jon flushes. “Ah. It’s not…” He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, then settles for candor over subtlety. “It’s not a bad feeling.”

“Oh?”

Jon’s flush deepens, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “I … I like it when you touch me. A-and I don’t … want you to stop.”

Martin sounds amused—and slightly flustered—when he says, “I can touch you without tickling you, Jon.”

“I know,” Jon says, a bit petulantly. He takes a breath. “But I … I want you to.”

Martin lets out a small huff of laughter. “You want me to tickle you? Just … whenever?”

“If you don’t want to,” Jon says sullenly, “we don’t have to do it.”

“No, I—I do want to, I just…” Martin squeezes Jon’s hand once. “I want to make sure that I’m understanding you correctly.” Then, he brushes a finger gently along the inside of Jon’s wrist, and a small shudder runs through Jon’s body.

“Yes, that’s…” Jon trails off and simply nods. He hesitates, then reaches forward and takes Martin’s other hand in his so they’re clasped together, palm to palm. “I … I trust you, Martin. I—I know that you’d stop, if I asked, and … it’s nice. To be vulnerable like this.” Jon pinches his lips together for a moment. “Does—does that make any sense at all?”

“Yeah,” Martin says gently. “It does.” Then, quieter: “Thank you, Jon.”

Jon nods. The back of his throat is tight with unnamed emotions, and he swallows a few times in an attempt to clear them away. “A-and besides, I … I think this could be fun.”

Martin’s smile is gently teasing. “Fun? In this cottage? Surely not.”

“Ha ha.”

Martin’s smile widens, and he presses another quick kiss to Jon’s nose. “Okay, then. Let’s do it.” He rocks back and forth on his heels a few times, as if considering, before adding, “And you can try to tickle me back if you’d like.”

Jon raises an eyebrow. “Try to?”

Martin’s smile turns devious at the edges, and he doesn’t clarify. Instead, he squeezes Jon’s hands once more before releasing them. “This’ll be fun! I’m going to go start the laundry—let me know if you need any help with dinner?”

“Yes, of course.”

Jon watches Martin depart from the kitchen with a frown before returning to the pot and retrieving a new spoon from the drawer.

Try to? What did he mean by that?

Jon finds his answer a few days later when he casually brushes his fingers against Martin’s sides, just above his waist, and Martin doesn’t even twitch. A light touch to the soles of his feet elicits the same response, and a kiss on his neck results in only a smile and a kiss in return.

Martin is apparently, frustratingly, not ticklish.

This, naturally, escalates the game to outlandish proportions.

Jon will admit—albeit with some reluctance—that he is, in fact, a very competitive person. Board game nights and trivia always took on much higher stakes than strictly necessary, his research always had to be more thorough and comprehensive than that of his coworkers in the research department, and he felt a thrill of satisfaction every time he figured out the answer to a problem before anyone else. He just … doesn’t like to lose.

And Jon is currently losing against Martin. Quite badly, in fact. It only takes a few days of indignity and injustice for Jon to decide that enough is enough, and he is going to find Martin’s weakness and finally get ahead.

Every light kiss is accompanied by Jon’s fingers brushing against Martin’s stomach or sides. Every time Jon curls around Martin in bed, he’s sure to let his breath tickle the back of Martin’s neck and to trail his fingers up Martin’s spine. And every time Martin stubbornly refuses to react to Jon’s touch, Jon tries a new tactic, because something has to work. Martin can’t just be … immune. That would be cosmically unfair.

Because Martin takes every opportunity to tickle Jon in return. And the number of times that Jon has shrieked and dissolved into helpless giggles when Martin finds another spot on him that is, apparently, very ticklish is getting to be truly embarrassing.

Not that Jon is … complaining, necessarily. He likes the game—likes being touched by Martin in ways that continue to surprise him, without any expectation of something more. Martin stays clear of areas that make Jon uncomfortable, takes his hands away the moment Jon tells him to stop (usually in a fit of breathless giggles), and always entertains Jon’s attempts to tickle him in return, fruitless as they may be. He would just like it more if he weren’t losing quite so badly at it.

Not that he thinks Martin minds, judging by the fond smile that seems to be permanently etched onto his face lately. That same smile turns teasing, and a little bit smug, every time Jon fails to elicit the same breathless giggles out of Martin. Jon wishes the sight didn’t inspire such affection within him because he wants to be irritated by it.

His scowl never has any heat behind it.

A few days later, Jon finds himself ignoring the documentary they’ve put on the television in favor of skimming his fingers up and down Martin’s outer thigh. When Martin doesn’t move an inch, he grows bolder, then bolder still, until he finds himself on Martin’s lap, hands pressed firmly against his chest and lips trailing kisses down his jaw. He places a kiss on a spot that he knows is particularly ticklish on him, and when Martin still remains impassive, a noise of frustration escapes his throat.

Martin makes an amused sound. “Sorry,” he says in a distinctly unapologetic tone of voice. “I can see that you’re trying very hard.”

He sounds a bit breathless, Jon thinks with a hint of pride, even as he recognizes that that’s probably less a product of the tickling than it is of the fact that Jon is currently straddling him and kissing him quite thoroughly. Which is just ridiculous, in Jon’s opinion. Everyone is ticklish on their neck. It’s just human nature.

“I am,” Jon says primly, lips brushing against the underside of Martin’s jaw. Martin doesn’t so much as flinch. Bastard. “It’s rather rude that my efforts are going unappreciated.”

“Oh, I’m appreciating them. Very much. Feel free to continue, please.”

Jon pulls back and affixes Martin with the driest look he can muster. “I see you’re not sympathetic to my cause.”

Martin’s mouth falls into that same frustratingly smug smile. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” His hands, resting on Jon’s waist, skim upward suddenly and send a violent shudder through Jon’s body.

“This,” Jon says breathlessly, “is unfair. Cruel and unusual punishment. Torture of the highest order.”

“So you’re giving up, then?” Martin says sweetly. He punctuates his words with a quick pinch just above Jon’s waist that has him squeaking.

Jon scowls and pinches Martin’s waist in return, to no avail. “Don’t be absurd.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Martin shrugs. “All right.” Then, he lifts Jon from his lap like he’s made of papier-mâché, settles him back down on the couch next to him, and proceeds to attack his sides and stomach and arms until Jon is wriggling and tears are budding at the corners of his eyes and his stomach is sore from laughing.

It's wonderful.

(And maybe Jon’s just a little bit afraid that, if he finally finds a way to make Martin jump beneath his fingers, the game will end and Martin will cease trying to find new and wonderful ways to touch him gently, to handle him like he’s something tender, to take him apart and hold him close in the same breath.

Not afraid enough to stop trying to find Martin’s weak spot. But the thought is there all the same.)

In the end, none of Jon’s agonizing and strategizing and consideration of variables makes much of a difference. Because when he finally manages to tickle Martin, it happens quite by accident.

They’ve been in the safehouse for nearly a month now, and the tickling has become part of the daily routine. Jon thinks, therefore, that he should have come to expect it by now, but Martin never quite does the same thing day-to-day. Sometimes, his hands on Jon’s waist in the morning as Jon cooks breakfast are firm and comforting, eliciting nothing from Jon but a pleased little hum and a soft good morning. Other times, his fingers drum a light staccato rhythm against the small rolls of fat that have begun to accumulate on Jon’s hips, and Jon wriggles, making Martin laugh and insist that I’m hardly even doing anything, Jon.

Jon had never really considered touch as something that could contain so much love and affection within it. He’s never been more glad to be proven wrong.

The morning it happens is quiet and cloudy. The sunlight through the window is tinged with gray, bringing with it a cold that cuts through the downy duvet they have. Jon rolls over in bed with a groan. He presses himself firmly against Martin’s back, draping one arm across Martin’s chest and shifting so his legs are flush with Martin’s in an effort to combine their body heat and stave off the chill. His foot, socked and a good deal colder than the rest of his body, brushes against the back of Martin’s knee.

Martin twitches, his leg jerking away from Jon’s involuntarily. With sleep still clinging tightly to him, it takes Jon a moment to realize what’s happened and a few moments more to identify what, exactly, he had done to warrant the reaction.

Experimentally, he shifts and touches his foot to the back of Martin’s knee again, feather-light and fleeting. And when Martin makes a small sound in the back of his throat, froggy with sleep, and twitches away again, Jon grins. He buries his face in the back of Martin’s neck to hide it. Then—because he’s a bit giddy and just can’t help himself—he rests his foot against the back of Martin’s knee and wiggles his toes.

Martin’s leg curls up against his chest, effectively locking away his figurative Achille’s heel, and he mumbles something incoherent in his sleep that sounds equal parts groggy and irritated.

Jon’s smile turns soft, and he presses a kiss to Martin’s shoulder before wrapping his arms securely around him. The warmth radiating from Martin is enough to lull him back to sleep—but not before he tucks this new, incredibly valuable piece of information away in the back of his mind for safekeeping.

Jon has, in his memory, never been described as a particularly patient person. He always skips the boring parts of books and movies, preferring something that can actually capture his attention and hold it firm. He used to send daily emails to colleagues until they sent him the research or information or supplies he needed. He never lets soups simmer as long as the recipes tell him to, and he firmly believes that it’s all right to set the oven temperature higher than recommended in order to cut down the cooking or baking time required.

Therefore, he thinks it’s rather impressive that he manages to avoid showing his hand until a full day later, when he walks into the kitchen in the morning to see Martin standing by the counter, his back to him as he fiddles with the teabags and mugs. The weather is still brisk, but there’s a fire going in the fireplace that makes the temperature in the safehouse tolerable. As such, Martin is clad in a (rather adorable) mixture of bright purple fuzzy socks, a thick woolen jumper, and boxer shorts with little dachshunds on them.

And, well. His knees are right there.

It has a certain kind of symmetry to it—Jon wrapping his arms around Martin’s waist, earning himself a hum and a gentle good morning, and nuzzling into the space between Martin’s shoulder blades. He stays there for a moment, relaxing into the warmth and softness of the jumper, before slowly and deliberately lifting his foot and brushing it against the back of Martin’s left knee. Except, instead of dropping a wooden spoon into a pot of red sauce, Martin startles so badly that the mug slips from his hand, shattering rather spectacularly on the floor beside them.

Jon freezes, staring down at the puddle of half-steeped tea as it slowly creeps toward his feet. “… Ah.”

Martin mutters a curse under his breath and extracts himself from Jon’s now-loose embrace, bending down to begin picking up the largest of the shards. Jon stands there for a moment, feeling a strange mix of sheepishness and pride bloom in his chest, before going to retrieve the broom.

The mess is gone in a matter of minutes. Martin throws the last shard into the bin, dusts his hands off to ensure that they’re free of ceramic, then turns to face Jon with a sigh that straddles the border between exasperated and affectionate. “While I was holding tea?” he says, clearly trying to fight back a smile.

“I didn’t know you’d drop it!” Jon says defensively, gesturing widely with the broom he’s still holding.

“Well—I didn’t mean to. You just … caught me off guard.”

Jon can’t help the smile that spreads across his face at that. “Did I? How terribly rude of me.”

“Yes, yes, congratulations. You’ve found my weakness.” Martin’s smile is dripping with fondness. “I’m still winning, you know.”

“For now.” Jon adjusts his grip on the broom, the plastic bristles at the perfect height for his purposes.

“There’s not a chance that—hey!”

Martin backs up against the counter as Jon lunges forward with the broom, trying to angle it so it reaches behind Martin’s legs. It’s deceptively difficult. Martin gives Jon a comically exaggerated look of betrayal. “I expose my weaknesses to you, and this is what I get. Treachery and deceit.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

Jon adjusts his grip on the broom, but before he can make another move, Martin leans forward and presses a quick, lingering kiss to his lips. Jon makes a noise of surprise, then one of contentment. He finds his eyes fluttering shut despite himself, the tension bleeding out of his shoulders, and he thinks he’d rather like to keep kissing Martin for the rest of the morning, and perhaps the early afternoon as well.

Which is why it’s rather unfair that when Martin pulls away, Jon opens his eyes to find that Martin’s sidestepped him and Jon has lost all tactical advantage.

“That’s cheating!” Jon says indignantly.

“That’s taking advantage of all the resources at my disposal,” Martin counters. It’s infuriating, and Jon loves him so very, very much.

What commences after that is a rather short, altogether too lively game of cat and mouse that mostly involves Jon running after Martin with a broom and Martin somehow managing to stay frustratingly out of reach. Martin’s laughter is lighter and more joyful than Jon thinks he’s ever heard it before, and Jon feels a childlike happiness blossoming in his chest as he nearly trips over the corner of a rug and just manages to catch himself on the back of the couch. Therefore, he can’t bring himself to feel too disappointed when Martin somehow manages to extract the broom from his hands and corner him on the couch. His fingers find the sensitive spots on Jon’s body as Jon giggles breathlessly and swats half-heartedly at Martin’s hands.

“All right, all right,” he manages to say between laughs. “You’ve made your point. I give up.”

Martin stills his hands, letting them rest gently on Jon’s shoulders with his thumbs brushing against Jon’s collarbones. He’s hovering over Jon, knees bracketing Jon’s thighs as the arm of the couch digs into the middle of Jon’s back. It’s a position that makes Jon feel small and enclosed, but also warm and happy and safe, because … it’s Martin. Martin, who only touches Jon as much as he wants him to and stops the moment it becomes too much. Martin, who apologized profusely the first time he accidentally rolled on top of Jon at night but who, upon Jon’s insistence that it was actually quite nice, has now taken to acting like Jon’s own very warm and very lovely weighted blanket. Martin, who looks at a body that has seen so many unkind hands and unspeakable horrors and presses kisses to the scars that lie upon it and reminds Jon with every touch what it is like to feel comfortable in his own skin.

“I love you,” Jon whispers, because he feels it so acutely in this moment that he thinks he might burst.

“I love you too,” Martin murmurs, rubbing his thumbs in careful circles on Jon’s collarbones so as to soothe rather than to tickle. The care behind that touch—the difference in intent from just a few moments prior—probably shouldn’t make Jon’s chest tighten and his stomach grow hollow and fluttering, but it does.

Martin presses a kiss to Jon’s forehead, soft and lingering and gentle, before pulling back and saying, “Tea?”

Jon can’t help leaning in to give Martin a chaste kiss on the nose, then another one quickly on the lips. The small noise that Martin makes with each touch is something that Jon boxes away and treasures forever. “Yes,” he says with a quiet smile. “That would be lovely.”

[allthingsarmin]

Hello, can i please request an armin x reader but it’s a modern au where armin is a nerd and the reader is popular, feel free to ignore if you don’t like the idea :)

Thank you for your request, anon! I really hope you like it, and I can always rewrite it if it’s not the way you imagined. Also, sorry it is a little long - I think I got carried away with this prompt haha.

The beginning might be a little angsty, but the ending is cute ^_^

GN!Reader

Warnings: one cuss word, mentions of self-doubt, kissing

Word Count: 2,346

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

Things change - sometimes for the better - like how Armin finally cut his bob-length hair and now has a handsome undercut that suits his jawline and like how you are finally growing taller since it seemed like forever that Armin was the taller one.

Things change - sometimes for the worse - like how you and Armin used to be so close in grade school, but now in college, your relationship is made up of awkward smiles in the hallways, small waves when passing each other in the library, and unfinished conversations on SnapChat.

Things fade - relationships come to an end, people move on, and that’s just life. Look at you now, from a quiet person to a popular student known for your humorous remarks, angelic facial features, a delightful sense of style, and your beautifully color-coded notes. You capture hearts with your smile, and you never fail to make anyone laugh with your stupidly funny puns and nonsense. To put it simply, Armin is a bit different - well, you could say nerdy. Quiet, polite, and has as much passion for the world as he does intelligence. Always heavily invested in school and studying as you could almost always find his nose in between the pages of a book or study guide. Poor Armin - not known for his sweet personality or his above average intelligence. Definitely not known for his sense of style but always comes to class dressed in a rather dashing blazer and keeps a couple Kleenex tissues in his left pocket. Armin barely has any friends, - if any - but he always makes sure to hold the door open for strangers, smile at teachers when entering the classroom, and send you a “Happy Birthday!” text every year.

Some things don’t fade - like Armin’s feelings for you even after you two grew apart and he was forced to watch you from the sidelines. How could he not be so deeply in love with you? When you two were close, you coddled up with each other and read books about the ocean, learning about sharks and so naively believing in the theory of Atlantis. You stayed over at each other’s houses and studied together as well as comforted each other if one of you didn’t do as well as you expected on a test. You used to braid his long blond locks as he told you stories about his grandfather. During the summers, you would use chalk to draw a picture of you two on the blistering sidewalks outside his house, and he would give you handmade bookmarks as a present. Even though you two have grown apart, he is still in love with you, watching you laugh from far away. The way your eyes squint out of happiness and the sound of your hearty laughter makes his body heat up and his cheeks rosy. The way you sometimes send him “Good luck!” texts for when there’s a big test in a class you both are taking makes him smile with teary eyes since it seems that you have in fact not forgotten about him and his intense anxiety when it comes to test-taking. The way you ran up to Armin and gripped his arm when you unexpectedly saw him in the campus coffee shop that one time sent a euphoric tingle throughout his body that made him forget how to breathe properly. How could he not love you when you were always there for him, when you remembered every personal detail he told you during late-night childhood sleepovers, when you tried your best to make him love himself? Armin wants so badly to tell you how important you are to him, how he wants to protect you from everything bad in the world, how he wants to wrap his arms around you and listen to your heartbeat… you are just so hard to reach. He is a nerd, a loser, and you are so popular, surrounded by endless amounts of friends… he’s sure your contacts are completely full and DMs flooding with people who are interested in you and are a lot better than him. What was the point in even trying?

Luckily for Armin, you feel the same way. To be honest with yourself, your stupid jokes, loud laughter, and wide smiles were really just a cover-up for how deeply sad you are. No matter how many friends you have or instant messages you receive from strangers online, you feel incredibly alone because none of them are him. Popularity doesn't matter to you anymore - you just miss your best friend so terribly. You missed walking on the beach together, splashing each other with the salty waves, making study-flashcards together, and being able to touch his beautiful blond hair whenever you wanted. Armin’s birthday is coming up, and you want to make your move and do something big for him that would let him know how special he is to you. This time, it wouldn’t involve loads of friends or a loud party with that overly social and fake personality of yours.

You text Armin: “Hey Armin! We haven’t talked in awhile, but your birthday is this Saturday, and I would like to meet up with you. Are you free to go to the beach on Saturday? I want to give you a present, and I just want to catch up with you. I miss my friend!”

Armin read the text with relief. Even if he couldn’t have you the way he wanted, he still wanted more than anything to reconnect with his old friend. “It’s good to hear from you, y/n! I have no plans for Saturday, so of course we can meet up… around 7pm if that’s okay. I want to watch the sunset! And I miss you too…”

Saturday:

It is November, which means it’s cold. At the beach in November? Even colder, so you make sure to dress warmly.

It is 6:59pm, and you trudge through the moist sand, the harsh wind bearing itself against your face making the tip of your nose turn a bright pink as you grip your hoodie close to your body. In the distance, you see Armin sitting on the sand, shoes off and wearing a dark green sweatshirt with a black beanie. Sitting next to him was his backpack - of course he was the type to bring his school work with him while you always brought your violently vibrating phone with you everywhere.

You release a tired breath as you sit next to him in the sand, setting the bag of presents down beside you and keeping your cold hands in your hoodie pocket. A big smile is on your face as you ask him: “Aren’t you cold, Armin? Why don’t you have your shoes on?!” Armin laughs as he turns his face toward you. At this point, you can see how red his cheeks really are, and this is really the first time you’ve noticed how handsome he actually is. The softness of his blond eyelashes beautifully contrast with the sharpness of his jawline. His smile is soft, and his deep blue eyes pierce into yours. “Hahaha, I don’t know. I just haven’t been to the beach in a long time…” he trails off. “It’s ‘cuz you’re so popular now that you don’t have time to hang out with me,” he states in a playfully butt-hurt tone though you can sense that he is indeed a little upset about it. The waves hitting the shore fill the awkward silence between you two. “I know,” you softly say, “but I think about you all the time. I miss you, and I hope we can be close friends again,” you confess. Armin feels his heart flutter when you say that you miss him. He wants to tell you he loves you and wants to reassure you that he’d always be there for you, but instead he pats you on the back. “It’s okay! I was just joking,” he awkwardly laughs. “Of course we are friends, and I hope we can be even closer too.”

He glances to your side. “What’s in the bag?” he inquires. “Oh!” you exclaim, seemingly as if you forgot about it. You rush to give him the bag and shove it into his arms. “It’s just some stuff I got you for your birthday.”

He rummages through it, going through the endless amount of tissue paper on the top. He pulls out a light blue sweater first.

“It’s almost winter, so I figured I’d give you something warm. I think this color…” you pause and hesitantly reach up to adjust his beautiful blond bangs, “... would look good on you.”

You both make eye contact for a second and quickly look away from each other. “Haha, it’s beautiful, y/n. Thank you!” You are just about to say ‘no problem’ before he is quickly taking off his green sweatshirt and replacing it with the light blue one, his very toned abs peeking through the plain white t-shirt he had on underneath the sweatshirt. You feel your cheeks grow warm and instantly look away. Armin notices and chuckles to himself. He would honestly never mind if you wanted to look at them or even touch them.

“Now, onto the second one,” you say, trying to change the subject. Armin pulls out two matching, homemade bracelets that feature a seashell on both of them. He looks at them silently and intently.

“I made matching bracelets!” you say proudly. “They’re like friendship bracelets, so we both have to wear them all the time! You aren’t allowed to take it off!” you joke.

“They’re so pretty, y/n,” he whispers as he stares at the shells, a sparkle in his eyes. He immediately puts it on and gently takes your wrist to put yours on.

“There,” he says contently, carefully placing your wrist in your lap.

You two sit silently next to each other, shoulders brushing against one another and watching the waves as the sun casts a dull orange and purple glow across the sky. The sounds of waves crashing against the shore and the squawking birds in the sky cancel out the noises of Armin softly crying.

Once you notice, you quickly snap your head around. “Armin, are you okay?” you ask, extremely worried.

“Thank you for the presents, y/n,” he sniffles. “You have always done stuff like this for me,” Armin continues as he gets flashbacks of you two running across the beach and gawking at beautiful seashells, telling jokes to each other in grade school when it was supposed to be reading time, and making funny drawings of each other. “I’ve never told you thank you - for being there for me and comforting me all those times, and just letting me be myself. It’s been such a long time since we’ve done anything together. I miss making you laugh, and I miss going to the library with you and asking you about your day.”

At this point, you feel like crying too because you feel the exact same. You spent so much of your life wanting to fit in, and you finally became popular but at what cost? You nearly forgot about the most important person to you, the one person that actually cares about you.

“I love you,” Armin suddenly blurts out, a tear running down his face. “I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine,” he says so quietly that it’s borderline pathetic. You swear your heart stopped when he said that. You feel a burning sensation all along your body as you forget about the cold air hitting your face, and you feel your breathing stop. The uncertainty you felt that kept you awake every night about whether Armin thought of you the same, all the self-doubt, all the guilt about leaving your friend behind, had been erased in an instant.

The silence between you two is unbearably awkward, and with confidence you seemingly pull out of nowhere, you throw yourself onto Armin’s lips, your arms enclosing his broad shoulders, and both of you falling sideways into the wet sand. Armin, at first shocked, passionately kisses back and links onto your soft lips. The tips of your noses are cold, but you both eventually succumb to each other's warmth. You both pull away to catch some breath. Armin gently wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him as you bury your head in the crook of his neck. Even after all this time, he still smells the same - vanilla and cedarwood. “I love you too,” you softly say. Noticing that you both are practically wallowing in the sand by now, you apologize. “Also, sorry I ruined your new sweatshirt. There’s sand all over it,” you laugh.

“Oh, it’s okay,” he reassures, shyly placing a kiss on your forehead. “Want to watch the sunset with me?” You nod your head enthusiastically, a smile you couldn’t help leave your lips.

“Oh, fuck,” you quitely exclaim.

“What’s wrong?” Armin asks in a concerned tone.

“I forgot I have an essay due at 11:59 tonight.”

Armin busts out laughing - a sound you wouldn’t mind hearing for the rest of your life even though he’s laughing at your poor planning.

“When the sun finally sets, we can go back to my dorm, and I can help you with it if that’s alright with you,” he politely offers.

“Sure!” you happily reply.

You both sit up and face the horizon. The sun was almost gone, and the sky was a heavenly pink color while the sea began to look indigo. Your hands were linked with Armin’s, and for the first time in a long time, you felt warm despite the air getting cooler.

Getting ready to go to Armin’s dorm, he grabs his backpack and his dark green sweatshirt. You get up and check your phone, not at all caring that you have nearly fifty missed text messages and missed calls asking why you didn’t come to the weekly campus party.

You finally have all that you need.

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

I really hoped you liked it! Requests are open ~ I have another request that will be posted soon.

[allthatyoulove]

Now or Never

Poe Dameron / Reader

Summary: It’s your first mission back on base, and you haven’t seen Poe since you broke up. When the mission goes wrong, unsaid feelings are revealed.

Warnings: cussing, angst, fluff

Words: 2.8k

Request: hi! could I request 6 from the prompt list for Poe? just some angst to fluff maybe?

A/N: This is my first requested story! Thank you sooooo much to the anon who recommended prompt 6 from my prompt list for Poe! Hope you enjoy! Feel free to leave any feedback and please let me know of any warnings or errors I missed! Thanks for stopping by :)

*****

“So after we take out the surface cannons, we come back to base. Got it?”

I finished my speech, slightly out of breath. I looked around at the other pilots to study their reactions. Some looked ready, bobbing their knees in excitement. Others looked pale, like they were going to puke or fly away to another planet. They all managed a nod in response to my question, which I took as a good sign.

I gave an over-dramatic, encouraging smile. “Great. Any questions?”

I paused for half a second before continuing, “Okay, so let’s gear up and load up the fighters.”

The pilots got up and walked to their fighters, murmuring to each other about how they felt about the mission. I stood on the makeshift stage for a second, watching them walk out.

Crash!

I flinched at the loud noise, following it to the entrance of one of the fighters. One of the rookie pilots had run into the box of bombs lined up when carrying another box in, and was frozen in place as they waited for the bombs surrounding them to stop moving.

I laughed to myself and jogged over.

“Get down, it’s gonna blow!”

The rookie immediately dropped to the ground in fetal position, holding onto their head and preparing for the bombs to blow up.

I reached the entrance, laughing to myself as I tried to keep a neutral look on my face.

“I’m kidding, they aren’t activated.”

The rookie slowly got up as if the bombs were still to explode any second. I took the box from their hands as they looked at me with a “I would beat your ass if you weren’t my commander” look and let them go rest somewhere before I got in trouble for tormenting the newbies.

I took a look around the ship as my laughing died down, trying to figure out where the box went. The box was filled with parts of a ship, which I assumed was meant for another fighter because of how new this one looked. It had a shiny new control panel, with thousands of buttons, which looked like they’ve yet to be used.

I sat down in the pilot’s seat, looking at all of the buttons in awe. I reached up to grab the steering wheel, feeling the smooth material and pretending to fly it.

“Watch it, sweetheart.”

I immediately tensed up and waited a second, sighing before I turned around.

Poe was leaning against the wall next to the entry ramp a couple feet away, looking at me with a sad smile.

“Sorry, I just-”

Poe was already shaking his head, dismissing the apology.

“You don’t have to apologize.” He whispered. The ship was quiet, the only noise was the low buzzing of the hull. We’d broken up a month prior, but this was the first time we had seen eachother since. I’d made sure to keep myself busy with every order General Leia gave me. It started to become obvious when she would send me on useless missions just because she could tell how badly I wanted to stay away from him, so I came back. This was my first mission back as a pilot and I already failed in staying away from Poe.

He was wearing his orange jumpsuit, with the white vest and black holsters around his legs and waist. His hair was curlier than last time and parted to the side. He looked good. He looked really good.

The room was suddenly extremely stuffy and almost unbearable to be in any longer. Only a minute had passed, but it seemed like we were staring at each other for hours. I cleared my throat, attempting to get rid of the tension.

“I’ll talk to you in a few, flyboy”

I smiled at him before getting out of the seat, making my way out of the ship. X-wings are fighting ships, which is why they’re so small and cramped. It’s hard to really understand that until someone else is on the ship with you.

Poe turned to face more of the wall next to the entry ramp of the ship as I attempted to slide past him to leave, which made me unintentionally grind on him. His hands immediately shot out to my waist, holding me in place as he let out a shaky breath.

I was suddenly out of breath. My skin was on fire under his touch. It was something familiar and comforting. I had almost forgotten how good it felt. His grip was unyielding, but soft and almost hesitant.

“Sorry.” I whispered.

He leaned his head forward on my shoulder, resting it there. I brought my right hand up to run my hand through his curls. It was still silent, both of us scared to talk and ruin this moment between us.

Fuck I missed him. I missed his touch, I missed his smell, I missed his voice.

The pain of being this close to him was too much. My eyes started to tear up as I stood there against him. I let a couple more seconds pass before I speed-walked out of the x-wing and towards my own. I didn’t turn around to look at him, even when he called my name.

I wiped the tear that left my eye as I walked to my fighter.

I came here for a mission.

I’m here to do that mission, then leave.

----

“It’s not every day we get a shot at a dreadnought, so let’s make this count.”

I’m not gonna lie, we are severely lacking in backup. I wasn’t going to let the rookie pilots know that, but for a job like this, we could’ve used a much bigger fleet.

This mission was Poe’s idea, and very last minute, so we couldn’t take any longer to carry this through. I tried to keep an optimistic view on it. Kind of.

I left the channel that included all the pilots and joined the channel that just Poe and I would be using. Poe and I were the ones who actually had to fly up to the dreadnought and take out the cannons, while the other pilots hung back and made sure no TIE fighters blew us up. So, we wouldn’t have to all be on a channel together unless absolutely necessary.

At least that’s what I told myself.

“You ready, Blue Leader?” came Poe’s voice through the comms.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Black Leader.”

I looked to my left at him from our fighters, and our eyes met. He gave me a big smile as he talked again.

“Let’s go kick some Imperial ass.”

I smiled at him before I punched the fighter into acceleration, flying towards the dreadnought. I braced myself against the seat as my speed jumped and took aim at the first cannon.

I fired at the cannons that were lined up, turning the ship on its side before any of them could take aim at me.

I was on a roll, taking out cannon after cannon all while dodging the lasers being shot from them. I cheered and laughed, feeling the adrenaline pumping through my veins and feeling unstoppable in this moment.

“How you doing, Black Leader?”

“Better than you, doll face.”

I felt a familiar heat crawl up my face at the nickname, but managed to stay focused on the remaining few cannons. Poe was on my left and we were in unison. We had the same amount of cannons taken down, but he always loved to make it a competition between us.

I almost forgot how euphoric it was. Fighting against the First Order with a Resistance fleet behind me, side by side with Poe. Side by side with someone I love. We were taking out every single cannon, making a show out of it to overperform the other and give the rookies watching something to be entertained by. We were both laughing through the comms, watching each other's fighters flip and duck down in skill to show off. I made quick work of taking out the last cannon on my side so I can do what I planned to do next. Poe had just 1 more cannon to go on his side, and I was ready to take it out using the best cannon-destroying-move-thingy these pilots had ever seen. I held the steering wheel in anticipation, sitting all the way back against the seat and bracing myself.

The pilots behind us must have been too into our little show, because the only warning I got was Poe yelling in my ear seconds before it happened.

“Oh, shit, here comes the TIE-”

I looked over at Poe to see where he was looking before my body got thrown to the left against the seat belt strapping me in.

My x-fighter steered down and left, falling down fast and aiming directly for the top of the dreadnought.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck-”

I yanked the steering wheeling as hard as I could towards my lap, aiming the ship up into the galaxy. Seconds before colliding into the Imperial ship it raised up, throwing the rest of my body down against the seat. I did a loop before correcting the fighter to it’s rightful path, coming around the back of the dreadnought to face the fleet. I caught my breath as I stared at the small fleet for a second, before I saw that there had been an ever bigger fleet of TIE fighters released from the Imperial ship. I immediately sprung back into action, following every TIE fighter I saw until they were down. Poe’s voice came through the comms.

“You alright, baby?”

I cleared my throat and tried to not give him the satisfaction of having a reaction to the nickname before I replied.

“Just fine, Black Leader.”

I had taken out five TIE fighters before General Leia’s voice came through the comms.

“Commanders, you did it. Now get your squad back here before we lose anyone.”

I immediately replied, “You got it, General. Coming back to base.”

I switched the comms over to the general one to relay the message.

“Time to head back, crew. Nice job today, now make sure to get back to base safely. These TIE fighters are relentless.”

I took out a few more fighters on the way back to base, making sure none followed any of the other pilots. My lip felt like it was bleeding from the force of the earlier crash, so I needed to get that checked out. Besides that, it was a very successful mission. We took out the cannons just like Poe had wanted, without the need for much backup from the fleet. I’m sure most of the pilots were thankful for that. I put the fighter into hyperspace before landing back on D’Qar with the base.

I jumped out of the fighter, taking a huge inhale of the fresh air and stretching my arms out. I was still smiling, giddy from all of the excitement that came with being behind the wheel again. I looked around the fighter landing, seeing all the pilots exiting their x-wings and running over to their friends to talk about it.

I looked for the ship with the black lines running across the top but couldn’t find it. I figured he must have already ran to Leia to bring up an idea for another mission.

I made my way towards the ship Leia was in with the rest of the crew, congratulating some of the pilots on the way over.

I walked through the doors and looked around for Leia. I heard her call out for me and ran over to her, analyzing the worried expression on her face and dropping my smile instantly.

“Where’s Poe?”

I froze.

“What do you mean where’s Poe? He didn’t return with the rest of the fleet?”

I walked around to the front of the panel Leia was looking at, switching to the screen to see the online status of the fighters. All of the fighters were checked out.

Except for Poe’s.

His voice rang through the panel.

“General, I can do this. I have the chance to take out a dreadnought! These things are fleet killers, we can’t let it get away!”

Leia replied angrily, “Disengage now, Commander! That is an order!”

Poe didn’t reply to her, the comms going silent. I knew what that meant. After being together so long, I knew he wasn’t going to listen. That was the best and worst thing about him. There was no stopping him from what he thought was best.

I still had to try.

I grabbed the mic next to the panel, pressing the button to speak into it.

“Poe?”

He sighed through the mic, taking a second to reply. I held the mic in anticipation, holding my breath.

“Sweetheart, It’s now or never. I have to-”

I paused a second, looking down at the panel.

“Poe? Hello?”

A big red “X” blinked over the image of his fighter on the panel. It seemed like the entire galaxy stopped, holding their breath and waiting for something to happen. Something to change.

“No no no no no… Poe? Can you hear me, Poe?”

Leia rested a hand on my shoulder.

“He’s gone offline, Commander.” She said sadly.

“No, General- he just- he’s fine, okay?”

I messed with the panel pushing all possible buttons to refresh the status, flicking the comm switch off and on repeatedly and continuing to talk through the mic. Nothing was working.

“I have to go help him.” I said before running out of the ship.

Leia called for me, but I ignored her and continued to run out to my fighter. A few tears left my eyes and I frantically wiped at them to try and clear my eyesight. I couldn’t fall apart now. Poe needed me.

I looked around for my ship, having a hard time looking through the smoke of nearby ships and people running around. I turned as I looked all around me for the blue stripe, not finding it anywhere.

I started to freak out, not having control over my breathing anymore.

“C’mon where are you… don’t do this now, c’mon..”

Tears were falling from both my eyes now, and I stopped trying to wipe them off. My vision was blurry as my mind went 100 miles per hour.

“He’s gone offline, Commander.”

I dropped to my knees in the middle of the runway as I sobbed.

He can’t be gone, please. He can’t.

I still looked around, trying to find my fighter from the ground. I saw a pilot lift a droid in the shape of a ball from their ship, setting it on the ground.

BB-8?

I frantically wiped my eyes, slowly standing so I could get a clearer view. My eyes finally cleared from the tears as I saw him.

Poe was kneeling down, patting BB-8’s head in congratulation as he turned and saw me. He got off his knee and smiled at me, starting to fast-walk over.

My face dropped in surprise, happy tears threatening to fall once again as I smiled at him with everything I had.

“Poe!”

I ran towards him as fast as I could, jumping into his arms. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, burying my face into his neck.

He wrapped one arm around my waist, holding me in place, and put the other on the back of my head.

He whispered frantically in my ear, “The cannon I missed- it hit my ship. The comms and weapon systems went down, I couldn’t- I lost you. I swear, I was on my way back. I was coming back to you.”

I picked my head up, bringing both my hands to cradle his face as I looked him in his eyes. I moved a few pieces of hair out of his face as I spoke, “I believe you, Poe. I just wanted you safe. Maker, I thought you- they said you-”

My voice died as I started to cry again, and he rested his forehead against mine as he spoke, “I didn’t realize you still cared.”

I sniffled, looking him in the eyes again.

“I never stopped.”

His gaze shifted between both my eyes, his eyes roaming my face in disbelief before he spoke again.

“I love you.”

He didn’t give me a chance to reply, resting his hand on my cheek and pulling me in for a kiss.

I stopped breathing as I immediately kissed him back with everything in me. He pulled me impossibly closer to him as we emptied all of the unspoken words between us into the kiss. He slowly set me down on my feet, wrapping his arm around my waist to pull me in closer to him as I arched into the kiss. We broke away, panting and out of breath. We looked at each other for a second before bursting into an adrenaline-infused laughter. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. He picked me up by my waist and spun me around, setting me down before we heard someone yelling at us.

“POE DAMERON!”

We both turned, seeing Leia storming out of the ship towards Poe.

“Shit.”

[kpop-cakepops]

I will gladly read any Wonwoo fluff you would give us be it snuggle donation or otherwise! But if I can be more specific in requesting, how about a missed connection sort of thing? Like the reader and Wonwoo have similar circles of friends who think they’d hit it off, but somehow they just never manage to be at the same events, but then they end up meeting separate from their friends and do hit it off, only to be a couple before their friends even know they’ve met? If that’s too specific, totally do whatever you want with the idea. Welcome to Wonwoo brain domination (my friend incepted my mind last year too and it’s been all Wonwoo all of the time since!)

omg this is actually such a good prompt?!?!?!!? What the hell?! Thank you anon!!!

So this one actually took way longer than expected because I knew what I wanted to do but I didn't know how to not make it confusing? So the best I could do was use time skips in this one, anything in italics are flashbacks.... I HOPE IT'S NOT CONFUSING! Anyhow, I had so much fun writing this! Enjoy! (PS. I didn't edit so excuse any grammar mistakes LOLz)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1,863

Meant To Be// Jeon WonwooXfem!Reader

"There he is again... I wonder if he's single." your older sister said as she struggled to keep your baby nephew from running away from the bench the two of you were sitting at.

"Probably not," you told her as you bit into your popsicle. "He's handsome. Probably has a bunch of girls lining up to get his number"

"He's playing video games at a park, I seriously doubt that" your sister added.

"I think it's kinda cute. At least he comes out because he wants to" you looked over at your sister who was now too busy chasing after your little nephew to even listen to you. "Aaaaand I was talking to myself. Cool."

You huffed and looked over at the man sat two benches over. He seemed to be having fun on his Nintendo switch and you were sure you weren't having fun babysitting your sister while she tried to babysit her own son... so you took matters into your own hands and walked yourself over to the man.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?" You asked.

The stranger looked up from his game and moved to the side making space for you to sit down. He didn't talk at all but didn't show himself to be rude either. You took the chance to take out your own console.

"What are you playing?" You asked.

He turned around and looked at your hands, his eyes widening a little but the look of surprise was replaced by a smile almost instantly. "Super Smash Bros."

You didn't know what you expected his voice to sound like, but it certainly hadn't been the deep tone you had just received. "Damn, nice voice" you blurted.

He let out a laugh, "what's your name?"

"I'm y/n" you introduced yourself putting your hand out to shake his, "and you?"

He took your hand cautiously, "I'm Wonwoo"

***

"How does this dress look?" You asked as you twirled in front of your now boyfriend of 3 months, Wonwoo.

He smiled approvingly, "baby you look just as amazing as you did in the last dress. You really don't have to worry too much about impressing my friends, they're all a bunch of idiots."

"Well, yes, but... what if they don't like me? I'm the reason you refused all those blind dates they kept setting you up on." You told him.

"And I'm the reason you refused yours, the time will come when I have to meet your friends, too. I promise you there's no reason for us to be worried." He pulled you close and kissed the top of your head.

"I'm just excited to finally meet your friends," you told him. "I want to make a good impression."

"The way you make me smile should be impressive enough, no?" He brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Getting a little cheesy there, aren't we?" You poked his stomach and pulled away. "Anyways. We should get going or we're going to be late!"

***

"You should come up. Some of my friends are still up there. We could hang out" said Wonwoo as he pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. His tall frame rocking back and forth as he watched you wistfully.

"I really wish I could, but I actually have to go back to work in a bit. I just didn't want for your birthday gift to get to your hands after your special day" You shyly admitted. He held his hand to the necklace that was now hanging from his neck. The pendant hanging from it depicting the Smash ball from the game's logo. Something about him immediately putting the necklace on making your heart race.

"I really wish you could stay, but I guess, you'll just have to make it up to me some other day." He said.

You reached out your pinky and he wrapped his own with yours. "I promise" You told him.

He smiled and you waited expectantly for his nose to scrunch up like you'd learned it would in the last 4 months of knowing the guy. It was weird how after fighting off cheesy romance and dates, you ended up developing a crush on some random guy you'd met at the park.

The both of you stood there for a moment, pinkies linked together as you let the sparks envelope you both. It was obvious you liked each other, however, neither of you seemed to know who should make the first move... nor did you know when.

***

You and Wonwoo arrived at the large hotel his friends had told him to meet them at. A shiver ran down your spine making you take a nervous deep breath. Your boyfriend grinned at your cuteness and squeezed your hand softly before guiding you towards the entrance.

"Oh, God... Maybe I should've brought a gift?" You grumbled as you followed Wonwoo into the hotel. A sudden feeling of guilt taking over you as you remember your own friend, Jihoon, was having a graduation dinner that you couldn't go to because of this. You'd managed to drop off a gift for him days before, but it still bugged you. Jihoon was one of your closest friends after all.

"Honey, it's totally fine. I promise Jihoon won't mind that you didn't bring him a gift" he assured you as he held the door of the fancy restaurant open for you.

"Wait, what did you say?" You asked as you stopped in your tracks. Your boyfriend shooting you a confused look.

"Y-N?"

***

"I don't know, I think my favorite has to be biographies. I'm just nosy" you laughed, Wonwoo following along.

"Hmmm, I mean, biographies are nice, but I've been into humanities lately. It's interesting" He shrugged and licked at his ice cream cone happily. "I used to hate it in high school but I think as I grew up a grew more interested in the way people live... outside of just myself."

"Wow..." you mused.

"What? Was that sexy?" he joked.

You shook your head, "No, you're such a nerd" You teased.

"Hey!" he quipped bumping his shoulder into yours.

"Watch it! I almost dropped my ice cream cone!" Your attempt to seem angry failed by the big smile on your face. It seemed that was all you did around Wonwoo anyways. Smile.

"What flavor is that?" he asked as he eyed your cone curiously.

You put the cone up to his lips, "Butter pecan" You didn't know what exactly you were expecting when you put the cone up to his lips, 75% of you had thought he'd playfully push your hand away while calling it a grandma flavor as he usually did, while the resting 25% of you thought he'd just ignore it and keep walking... but both assumptions were wrong. Wonwoo grabbed your hand with his free one holding the cone in place before getting a taste. It was absolutely insane how much that made your heart race. "Hey! what was that all about?"

"I want to get a taste... but I can't... taste it... maybe I should-" He froze mid-sentence. Wonwoo was nervous. His face was a deep pink as he eyed you closely.

"W-Wonwoo. Are you trying to kiss me right now?" You asked. You wanted to scream and run away but you also wanted to stick around and see if he would.

"I was supposed to be at a blind date today" He admitted.

"Me too," you told him.

"But all I could think of was you" He continued.

"Me too," you agreed once again.

"Y/N, I like you."

***

"What the hell is going on here?" Jihoon's face was twisted in confusion as he stared between the two of you.

"You know each other?" Asked Wonwoo.

Jihoon blinked hurriedly before finding his voice again, "Uh, I think I should be the one asking you that!"

"My head is about to explode" You murmured.

"Yah, Jihoon, Dokyeom just spilled- Oh, Y/N? What are you doing here... with Wonwoo?" Yet another one of your best friends walked out of the restaurant, Jeongyeon's large eyes looking at you and your boyfriend with the same confused expression as Jihoon.

"They got here together," Jihoon announced.

"You two know each other?" Asked Jeongyeon.

"Yeah, Wonwoo's my boyfriend"

"Yeah... we're dating" Wonwoo agreed.

"WHAT?!"

***

"Y/N, pleaseeeeee? I promise you're going to love this guy. He is such a sweet person, he will literally blow you away, and he's handsome! Did I mention he's handsome?!" Jeongyeon's hands were clasped together in front of her chest. It was once a month that she begged for you to go on a blind date with that guy she always talked about, but you shook your head.

"No."

"Why not?! What is it this time!?" Your pretty friend exclaimed as she crossed her arms across her chest.'I have a boyfriend now' You thought, a small smile coming to your lips at the thought of Wonwoo.

"I'm not interested in dating Jjeong. Please, can't we just let it go?" you asked with a soft huff. "We have better things to do anyway. Come on, why don't you let me take a look at your thesis so far."

Jeongyeon huffed and started to pull out her laptop from her book bag. "I can't wait till you meet him. You're gonna regret it"

***

"Wait, pause... so you mean to tell me that we spent ALL THOSE MONTHS trying to set the two of you up... only for you two to meet at a random park and fall in love?!" Soonyoung was being his usual dramatic self again as he glared at you two from across the table.

"I mean, we didn't fall in love right off the bat... but yes. You could say that" Wonwoo answered.

"Wow! I just got chills. I JUST GOT CHILLS!" Dokyeom added as he dramatically hugged himself.

"I just don't understand why neither of you guys told us you were dating! Like... How did we miss it? Where did you hide each other?" Asked Jisoo with a confused frown.

"We didn't. We were friends for about 4 months before we started dating. I even went to drop off his gift at his apartment on his birthday."

"The necklace! I knew I'd seen it somewhere!" Seungcheol exclaimed with wide eyes. "You sent me a picture of the thing and asked if you should get it black or purple!"

"I also asked you for tips on how to confess to a girl over ice cream and got me laughed at." Wonwoo huffed under his breath.

You laughed and shook your head. "You were right, Woo. Your friends are indeed a bunch of idiots"

"Wow... You guys are meant to be. You guys are seriously meant to be. There is no doubt in my mind. I guess when soulmates are meant to meet, they will." chirped Jihoon who kept picking at his plate. "Now that that's all out, I'd like to take a moment to talk about how if Y/N hadn't been dating Wonwoo, she would have missed my graduation dinner for a man. What have you got to say for yourself, traitor?"

"Uh..."

[hermannsthumb]

Maria. *Grabs your face* MARIA. I would LOVE to see 15 bobbing for apples from the autumn fic meme written by you. Nothing would delight me more!

Anonymous asked: Halloween prompt #15 please!!... "Bobbing for apples but we meet accidentally underwater lady and the tramp style." OR "I thought we'd have fun bobbing for apples but you actually hate it and are really mad now"

15. Bobbing For Apples

from autumn fic prompts here

KATE ❤️__ ❤️for you id write anything... and anon the lady and the tramp scenario is so fucking funny/good

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

It’s a really good thing that Hermann has Newt, because if Newt’s being honest, he has no damn clue what the poor dude would do without him. Work himself to death, probably. Or spend every Saturday night alone in his bunk. So depressing. Newt considers it his big charitable act of—well, of all time—to force Hermann into social functions, whether it's fun nights out at the bar (with Newt!), or down the hall a few feet for awesome movie marathons in Newt’s quarters (with Newt!), or something like tonight, which is a super awesome and fun Halloween party that, like, everyone on the base was invited to (including Newt!).

Hermann was all set to spend another night alone (probably changing the batteries in all his calculators or rearranging the hangers in his closet) when Newt dragged him out, more or less by the collar of his argyle sweater, with multiple threats to make his life a living hell the following week in the lab if he didn't comply immediately. "Seriously, dude," Newt had said, ominously, while Hermann looked at him like a furious cat ready to take a swipe, "you're gonna put in those vampire fangs and get drunk with me, or you're gonna regret it. I mean it." Newt was not opposed to blasting the shittiest depths of his Spotify account over his bluetooth speakers or using Hermann's favorite coffee mug to hold his dissection tools. Luckily for both of them, Hermann decided the risk wasn't worth it.

Newt knows Hermann is bound to recognize how selfless Newt is being and thank him for it eventually. Probably. Maybe a few years from now. For now, Newt is enjoying the warm and fuzzy feeling of having done a good deed, and also of drinking a considerable amount of spiked punch.

Hermann is not enjoying either.

"I did, in fact, have plans for tonight," he tells Newt, sipping his ginger ale and observing Newt with a fierce scowl. He flat-out refused the booze Newt tried to push on him. It's fine, whatever—it's enough for Newt, right now anyway, that he actually came. They'll work up to bigger stuff like that later.

"Like what?" Newt says. "Doing a crossword puzzle and watching the second half of that boring-ass documentary you put on last weekend?"

Newt considers it an affront to the very concept of movie nights that Hermann used his pick on a documentary, and one about the jaeger program that didn't even bother interviewing him, no less. Newt loves a good documentary, don't get him wrong, but movie nights are for escapist shit. You don't see him switching on Godzilla. Plus, having to watch stock footage of Dr. Gottlieb Sr. blabbing his mouth about how smart he was while you were debating making a move on his son (who was currently in you bed, looking super cute in your sweatpants, because he'd forgotten to pack pj's) was kind of a mood-killer. "It wasn't boring," Hermann sniffs, which tells Newt that his guess was dead-on. "It was...interesting. And anyway, just because they aren't your idea of plans..."

"Okay, whatever," Newt says. "Let's just have fun. That's the point of a party."

He throws an arm around Hermann's shoulder and drags him closer, until their heads knock together painfully. He hears Hermann growl low in his throat. Newt doesn't say, soon, we won't have the time to do stupid shit like this anymore, so we should enjoy it while we can, even though he wants to. It's better to not make fun stuff depressing. Plus, Hermann might decide to take that as an invitation to bail and put on his documentary. Instead he reaches up across Hermann and flicks his chin. Hermann's whole body stiffens. "I can't believe I got you into this super awesome party and you're not even pretending to be thankful," Newt says.

With no great deal of difficulty, Hermann pushes Newt off of him. Newt lands heavily back in his chair, making the whole thing wobble, and he laughs as he just manages to catch himself from falling off the other side. "You got me in?" Hermann says. "Newton, I was invited three weeks ago."

Newt stops laughing. "You were?"

"Yes," Hermann says. The corner of his lip twitches up, with a smugness so powerful Newt can feel it radiating off of him in waves. Bastard. "I took it upon myself to ask if you might be permitted to come, too." He adds, sarcastically, "Out of the kindness of my heart. I know how terribly put out you get when you aren't included in these sorts of things."

Newt considers this new information, and then discards it, because it really doesn't fit the image of himself he's been cultivating as the cool, hip friend to Hermann's uncool, unhip nerd. Like, come on, between the two of them, Newt is obviously the one you'd want at your party. Hermann's gotta be kidding. Probably. Maybe. "It's a lame party anyway," Newt mumbles.

He tries to put his arm around Hermann's shoulder again, remembers that Hermann really didn't like that the first time, and then drops it back down at his side instead. "Totally lame," he continues. Newt recalls the Halloween parties of his youth with a warm, fond glow: elaborate costumes, tacky decorations, passing around bowls of peeled grapes in the dark, carving jack-o-lanterns while his dad hovered protectively over him to make sure he didn't take a finger off with the knife. This is none of that. Barely anyone even dressed up! The lack of Halloween spirit is tragic. "There aren't even any party games."

"Yes there are," Hermann says, mildly.

He points across the room at a large metal tub that Newt somehow missed before. It looks like it's filled with water, and...

"Dude," Newt says.

He doesn't wait to ask before he's hopping to his feet and dragging Hermann along after him by his blazer cuff. Hermann swats at his heels a few times with his cane, but eventually—like he does with most of Newt's ideas—gives in. "I'm a fuckin' champ at bobbing for apples," Newt boasts. "I used to—oops, excuse me," (he runs into two guys who are, like, twice his height, upsetting their drinks, and he hears Hermann groan as something purple spills on his sweater), "I used to always win it at the fall fest when my dad would take me." And then when he went back as an adult by himself, but it was less impressive a win when you were up against a bunch of ten-year-olds.

"You do have an exceptionally large mouth," Hermann says, rubbing at his stained shoulder. "I suppose that helps." As Newt bends to investigate the iron tub, he says, "Oh, Newton, don't, it's been out all night. Who knows what sorts of germs are in there?"

Newt gets to his knees and rolls up the sleeves of his PPDC-issued labcoat. He's a mad scientist to Hermann's vampire (vampire librarian?) tonight. Yeah, it's kind of a lazy costume, but it was free—he already had everything he needed in the lab. "I can get it in five seconds, max," he declares. His record is one second, but he's the first to admit he's a little rusty, and he'd rather impress Hermann by beating his estimate. "Will you hold my headlamp?"

Grumbling, Hermann takes it. Newt sets his glasses on the ground. "You're going to get yourself bloody soaking," Hermann says, and then he complains about something else, too, but Newt is screwing his eyes shut and ducking his head into the tub, which makes it difficult to hear him. One second—two seconds—two and a half—Newt emerges victorious from the tub, teeth clenched down firmly on an apple, and accidentally splatters a large amount of water on Hermann's shoes. He pulls the apple out of his mouth with a grin and waves it at Hermann. "See. I'm a fucking pro."

He tucks his glasses back on his face to discover that Hermann is staring at him with a very strange expression on his face. Newt can't decide if it's the blacklight bulbs overhead that are washing him out and making him look so flushed, or something else entirely. Then, in a second, he's grumpy and scowling and tsking over his wet shoes. "A pro," he echoes. "Hardly. It can't be that complicated."

Newt gestures grandly at the tub and takes a bite out of his apple. Hermann can always be relied upon to never turn down a challenge, especially when it means making Newt look—potentially—stupid. Newt uses it to his advantage often. Whatever it takes to help the guy have a good time. "It's all yours, dude."

Hermann grumbles something again about Newt being too arrogant for his own good, and something else about showing Newt how to do it without making a mess of everything, then gets down to his knees with a quiet hiss of discomfort. He shoves his cane, and Newt's headlamp, at Newt, though bewilderingly leaves his blazer on. "I'll be just a moment," he says, and dunks his head into the tub.

He splashes back up no more than five seconds later. Apple-less. "Bugger," he coughs, and then coughs some more. The entire front of his sweater is soaked. "I didn't—I didn't start out right. Let me—"

Newt watches Hermann try to drown himself a few more times in mild interest before he finally intercedes. "Need a hand?" he says, getting to his knees next to Hermann.

"No," Hermann splutters.

Newt takes his glasses off again. "Yeah, you do. Okay, now watch me—"

He emerges with another apple in seconds.

Hermann grits his teeth. "Newton—"

"One more?" Newt says, his grin widening.

Back under. Another apple. He winks at Hermann when he goes in for a fourth time, and this time, he feels the water of the tank being upset as Hermann (refusing to be outdone once again) splashes in alongside him. God, Newt loves riling Hermann up like this—he gets so funny, and kinda cute, when he's mad about something. Red in the face, and scowling, and sometimes (when he's real mad) speaking in a dangerously low and rough sort of voice with his r's rolling that makes Newt shiver, just a little. Like, Newton, you worthless, pathetic little man, cease this immediately, or else I'll... He actually said that to Newt once. It made Newt feel a little warm under his collar. Hermann's probably going to say something similar to him this time, and Newt can't wait.

Ten seconds in. Newt has been cutting Hermann a little slack at first, just to see if he can catch up, but finally decides to just go for the apple that's been bobbing steadily against his mouth this whole time. (He loves beating Hermann at stuff.)

And, well, apparently Hermann goes for it too.

They both miss the apple. Newt's mouth is up against Hermann's for another five seconds before he realizes what's happening (that that is definitely not an apple, that that is definitely a mouth, that that mouth is wide and weird another to belong to only one person Newt knows, that that mouth is parting in surprise, oh my God) and then he pulls away so quickly that he breathes in what feels like half the tub of water. He falls back on his ass, coughing furiously, and it's not until he shoves his glasses back on with a shaking hand that he realizes that Hermann has done the same. "I," Hermann says. His eyes are wide. "I'm sor—"

"It's fine," Newt squeaks.

"It was—"

"I know!"

Newt and Hermann's mouths were touching for five whole seconds. Underwater, while apples bobbed against their foreheads, but their mouths still touched. Oh my God. In elementary school, Newt thinks dizzily, that would be enough to catch cooties. This was so not how he wanted his awesome eventual seduction of Hermann to go down. For one thing, it wasn't even a seduction.

"I'm gonna get a towel," Newt says.

Hermann nods. He looks strangely adorable with water droplets on his nose and his hair plastered to his head like that. Newt has to get out of here before he does something stupid, like take Hermann's pointy cheeks between his hands and put their mouths together on purpose. He doesn't think Hermann would respond to that very well right now.

"I'll get you one too," Newt says, and it takes a lot of effort to force himself to his feet.

Hermann nods again.

"Okay," Newt says, and stumbles away. Out of the corner of his eye, he just catches Hermann raising a hand to his mouth.

[bloodorangesoup]

Work Song | B.B.

Request: Have you ever heard work song by hozier? It gives me such bucky vibes 🥺 like imagine him waking up from a nightmare & singing it to calm him down

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2.05k (this was supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away lol)

Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, bad singing (unless you can actually sing), Bucky being a big softy

My Masterlist

Notes: Anon you need to name yourself cause you obviously have good taste in music and I kinda want some moots on here. This song is so perfect for Bucky. I truly appreciate the suggestion, it gives me inspiration of what to write while procrastinating on works in progress <3

You were awoken when the sheets and comforter were yanked off of you, shocking you awake with the chill of the night air. You squinted your eyes open only to be faced with Bucky’s back as he was sat up in bed. You could see by the rhythmic curling of his spine that he was breathing fast and heavy, prompting you to sit up with him.

“Baby,” you groaned as you stretched your back and faced him, “you alright?”

His eyes stared forward, expressionless, until he snapped out of it and looked at you with a worried face. It was almost as if Bucky hadn’t even noticed you had sat up until he heard your voice. You wanted to kiss in between his eyebrows to smooth the lines that the furrow of them had formed. You leaned towards him and laid your hand on his back, feeling the expansion and deflation of his breathing, it had calmed a bit but you could feel the still rapid beating of his heart. He opened his mouth for a second, hesitating before releasing a breath and answering.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. Sorry I woke you up. There's still a couple hours left before you have to get up, lay back down.” He said, motioning with his head towards your pillow. You simply shook your head and dragged your hand from his back up to his neck and around to his cheek. He leaned his head into your cupped palm, closing his eyes at the comfort your touch gave him.

“Can we cuddle then?” You asked, more for him than you. It was an unspoken declaration in the air of “you’re a terrible liar,” but by now in your relationship, Bucky knew that if he wanted to talk about his nightmares, you were always there and ready to listen. If he didn’t want to talk then you could at least try to get him back to sleep or calm his nerves.

He answered you with a nod. You grabbed his pillow and stacked it on top of your own, giving you a cushion to comfortably lay down with your back slightly elevated. He understood what to do and without hesitation crawled over to you and wrapped his arms around your torso, laying halfway on top of you and resting his cheek on the top of your breast, right over your heart. Both your bodies shifted a few times until they found the perfect interlock with each other, sinking down into the bed.

“Do you remember that song I showed you the other day, the one you said you really liked?” You didn’t know where you were trying to go with this conversation, but you figured that getting him sleepy again would be hard, so talking about whatever came to your head might help put him down. Bucky could feel the vibrations of your voice all throughout your chest. He wished in that moment that the two of you could stay like this forever, that he could feel your sweet voice like this for the rest of his life.

“The “take me to church” one?”

“Yeah, that one. The dude who sings that has another song I really love, it makes me think of you whenever I hear it.”

“What’s it called?” He mumbled weakly. You gave him a squeeze and continued.

“Work Song.”

“Hmm,” Bucky hummed against your chest, waiting a moment before speaking, “could you sing it for me, doll?”

“If you want, but I can’t promise it’ll sound pretty,” you answered with a breathy chuckle. You wanted to comfort Bucky, but you definitely weren’t a singer. It was difficult enough to be in tune with songs, you weren’t sure you could even manage with half his body resting on you.

“It doesn’t have to sound pretty, if you sing it it’ll be perfect. Please?”

It took Bucky a long time to be okay with asking for things and accepting that receiving favors didn’t equate to weakness. You knew that him asking you to do this for him was hard and you weren’t going to let him down.

“Alright.” You cleared your throat and breathed in before exhaling quickly, cutting the words out of your mouth as your brain tried to think of how the song goes.

“Well, it starts with a low piano note and this soft clap, and there's a harmony that goes ‘hmmm, hmm mmm’ and then another clap and ‘hmm mmm’,” you explained, emphasizing every clap with a light tap if your hand on his back. You looked down at him and lifted your other hand, weaving yo fingers through his hair to gently move back and forth over his scalp. You looked back up to the ceiling with your eyes open, imagining how the stars would look if the roof was gone.

“And that part goes on for a bit…” you said into the silence of the room. As you explained, Bucky had shifted his head to rest the underside of his chin flush against your chest and looked up at you. Due to the way your face looked up he couldn’t see it completely, but he could see how the light of the moon pouring into the room cast a glow across your cheekbones and jaw. He watched as you fumbled through the intro, trying to explain to him how the different sounds come together, and he swore you had never looked more beautiful.

He drank in the way the hums of the song rattled under his chin, how you would pause for a few moments trying to think of what came next in the song. He felt your heartbeat against his throat and the rise and fall of your chest with every breath you would take before letting out another hum. He was right, you could be singing any song and it would be perfect.

“And then he starts singing, he goes,” you took in a breath before singing.

“‘Boys, workin' on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love I could barely eat’

“‘There's nothin' sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

'Cause my baby's sweet as can be

She give me toothaches just from kissin' me’.”

He noted how the corners of your mouth tilted upward at that last line. You weren’t singing it exactly as the song went, the melody was a bit off and the pitch was much lower than it was supposed to be, but Bucky felt like every word you sang floated out into the world, carrying its refreshing life and coolness into his soul.

“And then there's this really deep bass note that hits and then the chorus goes,

“‘When, my, time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her’.”

Bucky thought of how he always seemed to crawl back to you. For once, he didn’t feel guilty for his presence in your life. He relished in the feeling of having you under him, in the knowledge that of all the people in the world, you would let him crawl home to you. If he had to crawl to someone, he would thank any and all higher powers that it was you.

“And then the song gets lighters and the hums come back,” you mumbled.

“‘Boys, when my baby found me

I was three days on a drunken sin

I woke with her walls around me

Nothin' in her room but an empty crib’

“‘And I was burning up a fever

I didn't care much how long I lived

But I swear, I thought I dreamed her

She never asked me once about the wrong I did’.”

Memories swirled around in Bucky’s head of all the times he felt like ending it all. He knew he was perfectly capable of doing it, but there was always a stubborn sliver of hope splintered in his head that prevented him from going through with anything. He didn’t like to think back to those times, but hearing the words leave your lips made it clear to him that you were the sliver of hope, some force of the universe had kept him around long enough to reach you and hold on. He closed his eyes and listened as you gently worked through the chorus twice more.

“‘My babe would never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

If the Lord don't forgive me

I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me’.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed as he thought of how unconditionally you cared for him. You weren’t blind to the troubles that came with loving someone like him, with accepting what he did and offering him sanctuary from himself. He didn’t know if he would ever be sure of the idea that he deserved love, but he was okay with being selfish if it meant having you by his side.

“‘When I was kissin' on my baby

And she'd put her love down, soft and sweet

In the low lamp light, I was free

Heaven and hell were words to me’.”

Tears had started to well in Bucky’s eyes. He looked up once again at your face, delicately bathed in moonlight, and thought of how he looked in the light, how you both looked together in the light. If you looked so beautiful and lovely, maybe he could too. He didn't feel exposed or ugly, he felt safe, he felt free. He was overwhelmed with emotion. His heart was pounding and he was choked up, he had never felt as completely and dramatically in love with you as he did in that moment.

You wrapped up the song, carrying it out with the same hums and claps that brought it in. Looking down, you saw Bucky’s face buried in the space between your breasts and could hear a sharp intake of breath, indicating that he was crying. You ran your hand that had been tapping his back up and down his spine. You took your hand from his hair and used it to push his disheveled hair out of his eyes and off his forehead, causing him to look up at you.

To Bucky, you looked like an angel. You both laid in silence, looking into each other's eyes, while Bucky simply hugged you closer and let his tears fall freely. You leaned down and placed a few gentle kisses on his forehead. He finally settled his breathing and sniffled a few times before speaking, he was ready to talk.

“I’ve killed enough people,” he sniffled before continuing, his voice croaky, “I’ve killed enough people to give me nightmares for the rest of my life.” He sighed and closed his eyes, feeling too shameful to keep looking at you.

You sank down lower in the sheets and tightened your hold on him, bringing his face and body up and closer to you.

“I’m so sorry, Buck. I wish there was more I could do.” You finally let go of the few tears building in your eyes, letting them roll down your cheeks to the corner of your lips.

“You’re here. You love me. That’s all I need,” he let out with a sob. You nodded your head and tugged on his body, signaling to him to come up.

He shifted himself higher in the bed, his face coming parallel to yours. You snaked your hand around his neck and craned him to look into your eyes. You observed the glassiness of them and how it accentuated the bright blueness within them. You thought of how, even when he was sobbing, he looked more beautiful than ever.

“I love you so much, y/n” he whispered with shaky breaths.

“I love you too, Buck, more than anything.”

You pulled him completely into you, your swollen lips gliding against one another, mixing your salty tears. You brought your hands to the sides of his face, rubbing your thumbs over his cheekbones, feeling how beautiful he was even with your eyes closed. You both pulled back slowly, only far enough to rest your foreheads together.

“I love you.”

[cellsshapedlikestars]

Hon' if you are accepting prompts (and only if you are!) can I have some spooky Sansa and Jon? I'm still not over them in spooky scenarios so I would love to read anything about it.

And for something a little more specific (in case that helps): maybe ghost!Sansa and Jon moves to her place and she is not happy, but also she loves his dog?

Or maybe Addams AU!

Or maybe Jon is the ghost and Sansa moves into his place?

Or they are talkshow hosts or something and a ghost is trying to get them together?

Or maybe YouTubers AU and their followed bug them until they agree to a Collab and it's Halloween or something like that?

Okay I went all over the place and clearly have too many ideas, but feel free to choose any of you do choose something!

First of all, I guess I'm sort of always taking prompts? I'll never turn them away, though they may also sit in my inbox forever (I'm looking at you, the last anon prompt from when I asked for them back in December...)

Second, spooky prompts! ❤️👻❤️👻❤️ If there's anything I love in this world, it's the supernatural/paranormal. And it may be the middle of summer, but I'm already longing for spooky season and I've been trying to vibe with it but it's hard when the days are so long, hot, and humid. (I desperately want to be able to go outside and not feel like I'm breathing soup, thank you very much.)

Before I get to the prompt itself, because I'm too wordy for my own good - your one prompt of Sansa/Jon is a ghost and the other moves in to their place... well, I've read that fic! It's actually locked on AO3 and I don't know if that means the author doesn't really want people finding it/linking to it, so I won't, but I guess DM me if you wanna know what it is?? I don't know the protocol for that. There's also Haunt Me, Then by the lovely @ode-to-an-inkwell which I read back when I was lurking and I loved it. It's the same base premise, but with a ton more plot!

The prompt I have chosen is the youtuber collab! Because I also love writing about/dissecting social media, apparently.

.

.

Sansa breathes – deep and even – and tries to stay centered in the middle of her group (away from the edges, away from the dark corners and the sounds coming from them and the people she knows are waiting for her there).

She wishes with all her strength that her followers had never found out that she's related to Robb. It's not something she was hiding, necessarily, but when she started her channel, she'd kept a lot of her personal life private. And honestly, she never thought it would get to this point – the point where she has millions of followers and Robb and Theon have millions of followers and those followers inevitably found out she and Robb are siblings.

A collab had been unavoidable. She just wishes it were any other activity than... this.

She lets out a strangled scream as something crashes to her right and she stumbles left, straight into the other person who's been dragged along tonight – Jon Snow. He catches her arm and keeps her upright and she almost thanks him until she hears him let out a laugh. It infuriates her and she rips her arm out of his grasp and sends him a glare, though it's short lived when she sees what looks like a jar of eyeballs on a shelf behind him and bile twists in her stomach.

She hates Halloween - she hates horror movies and jump scares and gore, and she especially hates haunted houses. But what else should she have expected for this collab? Robb and Theon have a dumb prank channel, of course they'd bring her – notorious wimp Sansa Stark – to a haunted house for the video. She thinks Robb got permission to film, because Dacey and Olyvar are flanking them with cameras to capture everyone's reactions.

“It's all fake,” Jon reminds her, though she barely hears his voice over the din of sound effects echoing through the dark corridor as they pass from one room to another.

“I know that,” she hisses, heart pounding wildly. They approach a doorway and – sure enough – right as she passes through, there's a person with heavy special effects makeup waiting on the other side to grab at her (another thing she resents – this is one of those places where the actors can touch you. They'd had to sign a waver). She screams in the actor's faux-bloody face and she swears he laughs at her.

In front of her, Robb and Theon are being obnoxious as usual. She doesn't really condone their prank channel and has often had to reign them in from doing something that would get one of them needlessly hurt (or would be considered, you know, illegal). Jon is usually an unwilling participant in their videos, and he has his own woodworking channel that has nowhere near the viewership that her makeup channel or Robb and Theon's prank channels do (she's told him, over an over, that if he showed his face on camera, he'd get more viewers, but he insists that he wants the focus to be on his work, not him). Jon walks next to her, calm, like nothing in this place fazes him, and she sort of resents him for this.

She understands it's all fake, she's not stupid, but that doesn't stop her fear response from kicking in every time something jumps at her, every time lights flicker or go out. It doesn't stop her stomach from turning whenever she sees the needlessly gory scenes like that doctor cutting a girl open, her fake intestines spilling out as the actress screamed.

“It'll be over soon,” Jon leans in close so she can hear him better, and for a moment a sense of calm washes over her. She loses it, though, as he moves away to give her space and she panics and reaches out and grabs his hand, tugging him back close to her.

A strange look passes over his face, but he doesn't say anything, just lets her grab onto his arm as they continue through the haunted house. She can't explain it, but with Jon next to her she feels... safe. She knows none of this is real, she knows none of these actors will actually hurt her, but it doesn't seem to matter, and it doesn't seem to matter that Jon won't actually have to protect her (though she somehow knows that he would if he ever had to, and that's a strange realization to have as she's walking through a room of terrifying clowns).

When it's finally over and they're outside, she breathes a sigh of relief and she feels muscles that she hadn't even realized were tensed relax.

“That was awesome,” Theon nearly shouts at one of the cameras. He and Robb talk loudly and animatedly for the cameras about the house, summarizing it for their audience (she knows they're likely to cut out a lot of the extreme scares and gore, since a good portion of their audience are kids and young teens).

“You good?” Jon murmurs to her and she realizes she still has a death grip on his arm.

“Oh,” she breathes with a forced laugh, “yeah,” and she lets go of his arm and immediately wishes she could have it back. (And then, some part of her brain whispers that she wishes she could have his arm wrapped around her instead, but she pushes that thought out because where did that even come from?)

Jon brings a hand up to scratch at his beard and shifts on his feet and she wonders if its because he feels awkward on camera. Jon's never liked being on camera, not really – it's why Robb and Theon always have to catch him off guard and why his videos – at most – only feature his hands and forearms (the comments on his videos about how attractive his hands and forearms are had been one of her main arguments for showing his face, but Jon had gotten weird after that and so she'd dropped it eventually).

“Hayride next?” Robb asks, which brings her back to the present.

“There's more?” she whines, twisting her face into a pout that always got her out of trouble when she was a kid, but Robb and Theon are already making their way towards the next attraction.

“You can sit next to me,” Jon offers, and she feels relief flood through her. “I'll be on the outside.”

She feels herself smile for the first time all night and nods and she's even more pleased when he – after a moment of hesitation – holds out his arm for her to take. She does so, curling her own arms around his and hugging it to her, keeping herself as close to him as possible as they walk through the fairgrounds to the haunted hayride.

They arrive right behind Robb and Theon and when Robb sees the way she's basically clinging to his best friend, there's a look that she can't figure out – it flicks from their joined arms, to Jon, then back to their arms, then to her, then back to Jon again and she feels Jon stiffen up next to her. Something silent passes between them and Robb looks almost... concerned? But then Jon shakes his head so subtly she thinks she's not supposed to see it and Robb nods back and turns around to face Theon and the cameras and Sansa's left more confused than anything.

The next tractor and wagon pull up to the entrance and the previous riders disembark. She waits with Jon, and though there's a slight fluttering in her stomach, she's not terrified like she had been right before the haunted house. Jon keeps his word and as they climb onto the open-topped wagon, he lets her sit in the middle and he takes the outside so she won't have to deal with the actors that run up to them during the ride. She settles into the hay and, without thinking, leans her head on his shoulder, arm still linked through his.

“Thank you,” she says.

“Robb and Theon shouldn't have made you do this,” Jon says back and his voice sounds a bit shaky. She can't see his face, she's too comfortable resting her head against him to look up, but she wonders why he sounds nervous. Maybe he's more scared of all of this than he was letting on? He hadn't seemed nervous at all in the haunted house.

“Don't worry, I'm going to have so much fun giving them a full face of glam makeup when it's time to make the video for my channel.” That's the point of this collab – she does a video for their channel and they do one for hers.

Jon lets out a soft laugh as the tractor starts up and the wagon lurches forward, heading into the dark forest. “Can I watch?”

“Definitely,” she says as she squeezes his arm tighter, her heart jumping at a noise off in the woods – a signal that the scares are about to start. “You should let me do your makeup,” she continues to try and distract herself. “I think glam makeup would look amazing with your beard.”

“Sure,” she can feel his shoulder lift into a shrug, and that does make her lift her head up and look at him.

“You would? I thought you hated being on camera?”

He shrugs again, but whatever response he was going to give is cut off as an actor takes a running leap at the wagon, latching onto the side and pulling himself up, and the passenger nearest to him (right in front of Jon) screams. Sansa sucks in a breath and tries to calm her racing heart (and out of the corner of her eye, she sees Dacey with a camera pointed right at her and Jon, a smirk on her face).

She spends the rest of the ride (and all through the haunted corn maze), hanging onto Jon for dear life and she swears his calm presence is the only reason she survives.

(And when she finally gets home to her little apartment and gets into bed, she tries desperately not to think too hard about why that is. She tries not to analyze the safety she felt with him or the way her heart had been fluttering during the car ride home, sitting in Robb's back seat and staring at Jon's profile illuminated by moonlight in the front seat as he and Robb talked and joked around. She tries not to obsess about the way he'd told her to call him if she ever wanted him to be in one of her videos, tries not to read too much into the look Robb had given Jon when he said it.)

(She tells herself that the reason she can't sleep that night is because of the haunted house.)

(It's definitely not because of Jon.)

[cellophanejpeg]

i’m sad and need some left frankie in my life this print from your prompt list just screams nervous frankie. could you please write anything with it!!! “I’m sorry. I should have asked first, just… it reminded me of you.” p.s. i love u and your writing

a welcome surprise

gif by @pcdrospascals

Pairing: Frankie Morales x female!reader

Summary: Frankie comes home with a surprise, but ends up getting caught off guard by you.

a/n:  hey anon, I hope you’re doing okay!!! Sorry this took too long to answer ): but I wrote something very sweet (or at least I tried to) for you! hope you like it!

warnings: none

word count: 1.1k

masterlist 

The house is quiet when Frankie makes himself in, the lights are off save from the dim one coming from the TV. He figures you’re in the living room, watching your favorite show as you wait for him to return from his night out with his friends. Like you always do.

He silently closes the door, takes off his jacket and places his keys in the ceramic bowl next to the door. His shoes come off next, trying to be as quiet as possible, Frankie walks to the kitchen and notices a pamphlet on the dining table. Curious, he takes a look to find it’s about an animal adoption fair that’ll happen in the next weekend at the park just next corner to where you both live. A smile tugs the corner of his lips as he remembers you telling him about it the day before. Your enthusiasm made him laugh at the time, as you reminded him that you’ve always wanted a cat but never was able to when living with your parents, due to your father being allergic to cat hair.

While Frankie is grateful for the small apartment you both just recently moved in, the idea of already adopting an animal doesn’t really please him. But he can tell you won’t give up easily.

With a sigh, he walks to the living room where he finds you asleep on the couch. Carefully, he leans in and presses his lips on your forehead making you suck a breath and mumble his name. His hands automatically tug on the soft blanket covering you as he says softly,

“Got space for one more?”

You scoot over so he can lay next to you and, even with the tight space from the couch, he curls himself on you, pulling your warm body on his.

“How was it?” You ask in a sleepy voice, referring to his night out with the boys as you bury your face on his neck.

“The same,” he answers, shrugging a little, “I missed you a lot.”

Frankie feels you smile on his skin, “It’s been like three hours.”

“Exactly.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence, save for the commercial playing on the TV in the background, and Frankie is almost asleep when you speak.

“Did you see the pamphlet?”

“What pamphlet?” He plays dumb for a moment, but you know him like the back of your hand.

“You saw it.” A soft laugh escapes your lips and your breath fan over his neck, “I think we should get a cat.”

It’s Frankie’s turn to laugh, “Oh, you think?”

“Yeah…” He can hear the smile in your voice, “I know you’re more of a dog person, but I…” You trail off, letting out a soft sigh.

You’re right. Frankie was never someone who likes cats, preferring dogs much more. But lately, you’ve been talking about it a lot, looking for animal shelters on the internet, giving him hints about getting one. Tonight, you’re bolder, actually asking him about it.

Frankie notices the sleep in your voice and smiles softly, he gently presses his lips against yours before climbing off the couch and taking your hand.

“I’ll think about it, sweetheart,” he says, “For now, let’s just go to bed.”

You let him pull you off the couch and guide you to the bedroom, unaware of his plans already set for the weekend.

…

Days later, Frankie steps inside the apartment with a smile on his face and his heart thumping inside his chest with excitement. He calls your name as he toes off his shoes and shrugs his jacket off. You come to him running, a worried look on your face. A look that faded away when you saw he was okay, closing the door with a box in hands.

“Frankie–”

“I have something for you.” He beams at you, walking to the dining table and setting the box on it, pushing towards you.

“I need to tell–”

“First.” He interrupts you by pressing a kiss to your lips and cupping your cheek, “Please open it. Whatever you have to tell me can wait.”

A sigh left your lips and you nodded, turning to open the box. Your movements freeze and your jaw drops when you see what’s inside.

A black kitty mewls inside, curiously looking at its surroundings. Frankie notices your reaction isn’t the one he’s been waiting for. His own smile drops from his face as he starts to get nervous, saying your name in a question. When you don’t respond, he starts rambling.

“I’m sorry. I should have asked first, just… I saw it in a petshop window and it-it reminded me of you.”

“Frankie–” You whisper and then start laughing, reaching to pet the curious kitty.

“What? What’s wrong? I thought you’d–”

“Nothing is wrong.” You turn to face him with tears in your eyes, “Just– Wait here.”

You take a deep breath and leave for the bedroom. When you come back you have a cat in your arms. Not a kitty, a grown gray haired cat and when Frankie sees it, he starts laughing too.

“I went to the animal shelter after work just to look,” you explain, letting the cat sit on the table along with the kitty on the box, “But I couldn’t resist. It reminded me of you too.”

Frankie smiles reaching to pet the senior cat as you scoop the smaller one in your arms. It meows quietly and you smile at that, while he tugs at the gray cat collar, looking to the nametag.

“Really?” He says, giving you a stern look, but a smile tugs the corner of his lips.

“I told you it reminded me of you.” You shrug, laughing at his expression, “Besides, I didn’t name him. His old owner named him Catfish.”

“Right.” He narrows his eyes at you, “Then, I’m calling this one Little Liar.” He scratches under the kitten chin, making you laugh and beam at him.

“Thank you, Frankie,” you murmur, “Really.”

He leans in to press his lips against yours, the hair of his moustache tickling your upper lip, “I’d do anything for you.”

You melt at his words, smiling and cupping his cheek with your free hand.

“I love you.” He says.

Your response was interrupted by the sound of a meow from Catfish – the cat. You both laugh as he tries to rub his face on Frankie’s hand.

“Not you!”

“Frankie!” You scold him, laughing, “He loves you already. And I do too.”

Frankie gives you a warm smile and a wink. You both sigh content with your growing family, and Frankie thinks this might be not too bad.

Not if he has you by his side.

...

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[sweetsweetkpop]

Genre: Smut

Rating: 18+

Aus/Tropes: Idolverse

Pairing: Minghao x Seokmin (with mentions of an OT13 Relationship)

WC: 1.2k

Tw: None

Sw: Mutual Masturbation, Handjob, Oral Male Receiving, Hair Pulling? (more so fingers in someone’s hair as the makeout), Mention of Praising (Kink)

Prompt: 24-“Don’t cum yet”

Notes: Here you go anon! I hope you like this!

Being an idol is fun, but it has a lot of cons and downsides to it too. The biggest thing is the schedule and trying to find ways to relax in short periods of time.

That was home Seokmin was feeling as he sat down in the living room, sighing and bored out his mind. They just came back from the dance studio and most of the boys were all waiting patiently to get into the shower one after another.

He planned to shower later and wasn’t in as big of a rush as everyone else, so he didn’t mind being some of the last few.

He knew he was tired and a little tense after having a quite heavy schedule and he just wanted to have some type of fun or relaxation. He’s not picky. He’s fine with either.

Seokmin sighed before standing up and heading off down the hall to a certain room in particular. He was hoping that he was there and not in the shower yet as he walked down the halls, passing some of his members and all.

He knocked before opening the door, a smile on his face as he saw the man he was looking for. “ Minghao did you shower yet?”

The lean man looked up from where he was laying, “ No I’m waiting cause everyone is in a rush to get in. Need something hyung?”

Seokmin walked over and crawled into bed with a smile quickly, pulling the smaller man into his chest causing the latter to gasp.

“ Hyung let me go. We both are sweaty from practice and we still need to shower.” He watched the pout form on his lips and that only made Seokmin hold him more.

“You're too cute for me to let go right now. I want to hold onto you forever.” Seokmin started littering his face with kisses. Minghao giggled and laughed the whole time until he was silenced with a kiss on the lips.

Seokmin felt his fingers relax on his shoulders as he kissed him some more, slowly switching them for him to lay on the bed and hover over him. When he pulled away, Minghao was looking up at him.

“ So your in one of those moods huh?” Minghao had a slight flush to his cheeks as he glanced at him through his lashes.

“ A tiny bit yes. If you don’t want to, then I’ll leave. You're probably tired from dancing anyway, but I just wanted to be with you like this for a little bit,” Seokmin planted soft kisses to his cheek, “ And don’t agree cause I asked you either. If you are too tired for it then say that instead of being extra tired tomorrow cause you indulged for me.”

Minghao turned his head to the side, a blush still on his face as he spoke, “ We just can’t go too crazy like last time. Our schedule for tomorrow is really busy.”

“ I’ll be sure to be quick.”

༄༄༄

The room had gotten hot really quick or maybe that was all In Seokmin’s head. Maybe he was more eager than he thought cause he was quick to take off his shirt and lift Minghao’s to kiss him from his collar bone, before staying a bit at his nipples, toying them with his mouth and fingers before moving down his stomach and tugging his shorts off.

“ I thought yo-”

“ I can pleasure you and still enjoy myself.” Seokmin grinned as he kissed up his length before dragging his tongue along the tip, eyes staying locked on to his face before wrapping his lips around him and taking him down his throat. He moved slow and play close attention to the little expressions he makes.

Minghao was one of the quieter members both on the daily and in more intimate settings. It’s just his personality. But what made him love his time with him was when he did something really good for him and Minghao tries his hardest to stay quiet.

So when Seokmin has times like this with him, he tries to make him feel so good that he can’t keep quiet.

Maybe that’s why he would drag his tongue along the underside as he massaged his balls, feeling his legs shake slightly as he looked up at him. Minghao had his hand covering his mouth and he didn’t want that. So he started to bob his head and swallowed around his length, hearing a gasp from the leaner man.

“Hyung~ That feels good~”

Seokmin hummed before taking him further down his throat and swallowing around him again. He listened as he struggled some more to keep his voice down and failing. The more he worked him, the louder his voice would get. It had him wondering if someone will join them if they catch his voice.

“I’ll cum if you keep this up” Minghao’s voice was small and the blush has reached his ears.

Seokmin pulled his mouth off of him, “ Don’t cum yet.”

Seokmin came back up to kiss him eagerly, Minghao’s fingers digging in his hair to keep him close. Seokmin tugged his pants down just enough to have his own cock out before stroking himself as he kissed him more heavily.

“Touch yourself too.” His voice was raspy as he nipped his bottom lip before pressing his tongue inside. Minghao reached down to start stroking himself too, a muffled whine in his throat as his cock twitched. He was still sensitive since he stopped right before he came.

It was nothing but the slippery sounds from them stroking themselves as they kissed, pre-cum leaking from the tip and thighs spasming ever so often.

Seokmin pulled his mouth off of his and pressed his forehead against his, his voice lower and raspier as he whispers small praises to the younger that only made him whine or needier for release.

“ Please…Can I cum now?” Minghao voice was soft as he looked directly into Seokmin’s eyes.

“You can cum with me, baby. Cum as much as you want.” Seokmin gave him that contagious smile of his and Minghao matched it before his mouth opened slightly as he moaned, cum leaking onto his tummy. Seokmin let out a few grunts of his own as he stroked himself throw his own orgasm.

They both panted, catching their breath and enjoying the silence together. It was nice.

“ You came all over my stomach too hyung. Now I really need to shower.” Minghao giggled as he drags his finger through the mix of cum and brings it to his mouth, sucking his own finger before releasing it with a pop. When he looked back, Seokmin was staring right at him. “Should I have not have done that?”

Seokmin said nothing as he gets up and opens the room door, “ Is there a bathroom free yet to shower?”

“ Nope, cause I’m about to shower next.” He heard Seungkwan say from another room.

Minghao nearly got whiplash as Seokmin picked him out with ease, ran past Seungkwan in the process, and right into the bathroom and locking the door.

“HEY!”

“Use the other bathroom. Minghao is really dirty, so I have to get him clean~” Seokmin laughs as he kisses on Minghao’s neck, the latter giggling as Seungkwan bangs on the door.

[mxvladdy]

Good hell, your True Form series is the absolute best! (and totally canon for me tbh). I saw that we can drop you a prompt and I wanted to ask, if you can do one where the obey boys comfort an Mc who lost someone dear to them? It's totally alright if you dont want to! I hope you are having safe and healthy days!

Thankie anon! I hope you are well too! My condolences if you have lost someone ;.; I hope you like this and I’m stoked you like my True Form series!  

Diavolo

Loss is not a new concept to him. Like many on the student council, he is well versed in it. The emotional strain can be numbing, and was numbing to him at one point in his life. He can’t really remember it now though. When was the last time he actually felt grief over a fallen companion?

But humans are different. Time is a scant commodity to mortals. Lose could stick to a human for their entire lifetime. When you come to him he is distraught. He hates seeing you in any form of discomfort. The best he can offer you is his undivided attention and shoulder if you need it. He is actually full of comforting and wise words from all the lifetimes he has experienced.

If you need time topside he’ll arrange a portal for you and you just take all the time you need. His program is not more important than family in his eyes. If you would like him to accompany you then he shall gladly. Sends the biggest, yet most tasteful flower arrangement to the funeral home and to the gravestone.

Barbatos

Probably has the hardest time relating to such a concept. The finite idea of time is something he struggles to conceptualize. Unless he physically wipes someone from the planes of existence he can, to a certain extent, simply find them in another stream.

He knows not to offer or bring up that idea to you. You don’t ask him to either. His abilities have ironically a time and a place. This situation is not one of those. It upsets you but there is nothing you can do about it.

He will distract you instead, taking you on errands and shopping trips around the Devildom. He will indulge your human curiosity under his watchful eyes. Then, he will take you to the kitchens and brew you something strong. If you need to vent while he cooks please feel free, he wants to listen. Nothing you say or do will pass through this room.  

Solomon

Being human, and yet not, he understands the most out of everyone. He has loved and lost a great deal in his lifetimes. Some of which is still a raw wound on his heart. He is very much someone who will avoid talking about his feelings or things that dredge up his past failings.

If you come to him he will give you coping skills and drag you around the Devildom to take your mind off of your thoughts. He’ll take you for walks or to the woods. Is it dangerous? Yes. But the distraction of self-preservation has always worked for him.

During all of this, he will check in on you. If none of his tactics work he’ll cave, taking you to sit on the nearest comfortable surface. He’ll ask you little things about them or your relationship and reply in kind, albeit stiffly. It’s-nice. Some human bonding he didn’t expect. In a way, you both console each other.  

Luke

He’s an angel in training. He can help! Simone has been teaching him! He’s excited but knows he has to tone it down. He’ll recite all the verses and words of wisdom he’s picked up from Simone and Michael.

He’ll sulk a little if it doesn’t help. Well, that’s fine, he will just have to study harder for you! Till then he’ll try other methods. He’s goto is homemade cakes and hugs. He will want you to help baking (he can’t reach the top oven shhhhh).

You naturally take over after a while, and as time in the kitchen progresses you teach him a few recipes that your late loved ones had taught you or were their favorites. It makes you feel better, it’s cathartic. The smell reminds you of home. Luke will memorize each recipe and will make them for you whenever he thinks you're feeling down.

Simone

The first to offer you his condolences and a warm hug. He is very vigilant of you and your mood for weeks after you had confided in him of your loss. His words of wisdom and experience with working with souls were more comforting than with Luke.

He will ask Diavolo to take you outside of the Devildom. Just you, Luke, and himself. You may pick where. Whether it be the mortal realm or the celestial one. If you decide you want to go back home to visit your old stomping grounds then that is where they will go.

You lead him around your familiar territory, pointing out where you and yours would hang out. He’ll buy you things from their favorite stores if you allow it. Humans are sentimental and if a little bobble or trinket will soften the pain in your eyes then it is worth more than gold. Will visit the grave with you to place the things you bought on it. If you allow it will pray from them too. 

Lucifer

He lashes out at first when you come to him. It makes him feel vulnerable, his pack mark is infused with your storm of emotions. He brushes off your feelings and bristles at you trying to seek comfort in him. Familiar loss is a very touchy subject to him and bringing those feelings back to the surface for him hurts in ways he does not want to remember. It takes Simone politely (or not) reminding him it’s not about him and perhaps swallowing a bit of his pride would help you both.

He will come to you in the dead of night. He just opens up and talks to you. He’ll sit on the floor of your room with his back resting on your bed and share memories. You both laugh and recount the good, bad, and some ugly memories. You give each other great words of advice and comfort too. You fall asleep holding his hand with a soft smile on your face. Your tears have dried up hours ago. He leaves you to rest feeling lighter and closer to you in the long run.

If you invite him to the wake he will join without hesitation and hold your hand the whole time.

Mammon

He will cry with you. Seeing you like this makes him think back to the fall, it’s a lot for him. He’ll take you out drinking. It’s how he copes aside from gambling and other reckless things. Turns you into the responsible party of the night. It keeps you busy though that's for sure and side-tracked. Though, he will notice when you are uncomfortable and dips from the casinos to lead you somewhere quiet. He’ll pass a bottle between the two of you and talk about anything that comes to mind. He is bad at opening up in public. But alone and drunk, he has a bleeding heart.

He slips into his big brother persona pretty quickly once you two are alone. He may be a goofball around the others but he can be serious when the time calls for it.

He will ask all sorts of questions about them. He wants to know all about them if you are willing. He loves learning about your life and wants to make it better if he can. He will listen with rapt attention and interrupt only to laugh or ask a question. He swears over a greasy plate of food he bought you both at Hell’s kitchen to sober you that if you want him at the wake just ask.  

Leviathan  

For someone who usually stumbles over his words when you come to him for comfort, he is surprisingly eloquent. He’ll be uncomfortable with physically comforting you until you expressly ask for it.

He’ll try to distract you with video games and asinine conversations while you rest your head on his shoulder and watch. If you’re ok with it he’ll also drape his tail across your lap. The best hug he can give you while his hands are busy with his controller.

He wasn't very close to Lilthe compared to some of the other brothers but he’ll exchange little funny memories he has with you or some cringe-worthy ones to hear you laugh. Between the dim light of his room and the blue glow of his fish tank, you chat until you fall asleep. He doesn’t mind and lets you doze, still filling the dead air with little stories.

Satan

Ah...You have his sincerest condolences. It pains him to admit it but he has never truly felt loss for someone before. Things, yes. A loss of a good book, either stolen by Mammon or destroyed in a fit of rage by himself. He knows that feeling-but those aren’t the same and he knows that it is an ill-suited comparison.

He’ll lend you his ear though. Listen to whatever you have to say, or if you need to cry it out. His arms are always open for you. If you get angry he can help with that.  He knows how to channel it all to be productive or temper it so you don’t burn yourself out while you process your emotions. 

He-like Levi- will give you sage advice or find just the right words of comfort you need. During the school week if you need a break he will gladly take extra notes or turn in your assignments for you while you take some time off. He will give you some books from his personal library too after an off-handed comment about your late loved ones' favorite genre or author. They are yours if they make you happy.

Asmodeus

Sympathy tears like Mammon. He’ll listen with rapt attention and coo over you. Very touchy when he senses you are troubled. He’ll stroke your hair and let you dumb whatever weighs heavy on your heart. Hugs are the best way he knows how to comfort you.

He doesn’t try to distract you from your grief or your emotions. He knows all too well what happens when one bottles up their emotions for too long. Nasty business that. But, if you want a distraction just ask. He'll give you one. Something nice and (hopefully relaxing) maybe a night out perhaps? Or if you want to stay in he’ll pop in a movie or playlist of your choice and stay quiet. You spend the night in enjoying the physical closeness and no need to express yourself or exert energy trying to vocalize your feelings. He’ll bring out his best snack for the movies too, only the best chocolates and dried fruits for you to munch on.

If you have to plan the funeral or wake he will be there every step of the way if you want him to. He can take the reins if you are just too emotionally drained to do it. If you have ideas or plans for it he will follow them to the letter, no questions asked.

Beelzebub

It’s a lot for him. Even though his sister’s death was a millennia ago it’s still fresh in his mind. But he is strong and will do anything in his power to be there for you. The best way he knows how to cope with such pain is to exercise. If you want to, he will take you to the gym and train with you. Let you tire yourself out on a punching bag or weights.

He doesn’t have many words to say so he will just listen. The best partner for this really, you could go on for hours and he would just sit there and truly listen. He won’t judge how you cope, whether it is wailing or you just trying to act normally around campus. He will be a little bit more clingy after you tell him the news. He knows the tells of a breakdown from his twin so he wants to make sure you are not close to one.

If you invite him to the wake he will stay in the back and offer emotional support. Afterward, he’ll walk you around the local neighborhood and ask questions sporadically about how you're doing. Back at school, he will take notes to you and homework if you don’t feel like going in person.

Belphegor

Stays up with you at night if you can’t sleep due to stress or sadness. You can stay up in his room with him as long as you like and do whatever you need to get through this. Stay up or sleep with him though the day is fine. Though, if you stay up too long he will use the pack mark to make you rest. He keeps a close eye on you like his twin does.

He keeps you up in his attic room with him during the school day. Online classes are a thing and he will keep you content and warm with him till you feel up to snuff. He is smart but just lazy, though if you just can’t get the work done he’ll do it for you to turn in. Whatever, you need a break anyway.

He will fill the dead air while you rest with stories of when he would venture to the human realm with his siblings. He likes to hear stories of your childhood and adventures you had with your loved one too. He won’t offer to go to the human realm with you for the wake. But he will give you an elegant star themed decoration for the gravesite if you allow it.

[charming-2d-boys]

I spy with my little eye that requests just opened 👁️ can I please request first date headcanons with suguru getou 🥺🥺🥺 thank you so much 😚😚😚

YES! Thank you, anon! 🤗❤️

I've been dying to write for him! 💘

I hope you'll like it (fingers crossed since it's my first time writing for Suguru AKA baby #2 after Chrollo 🤞) 🙇

A/N: sorry for taking so long with this one, I just wanted to get it right - I hope I did - which is why it got so long 🙇

oh boy

Suguru was so nervous when he asked you out

even if he acted like he was confident

he’s had a crush on you for a while

it didn’t even matter if you were a sorcerer or not

it had… happened

not that he was against it

he finally gathered the courage to ask you to meet him if you weren’t too busy

and you had some time that day, so why not spend it with Suguru?

you met up at the convenience store where the two of you ran into each other several times

it was the closest to his high school and it was close to your place as well

your relationship and meetings went from ignoring, to glancing, to nodding in acknowledgement to finally greeting each other

by the time you actually started talking, it was clear you were already feeling like you could be friends

and probable even more, as Suguru thought about his crush on you

without knowing that you were feeling pretty much the same way

and now, here you two were, several months later

meeting where it all started

Suguru’s heart was beating like crazy when he finally saw you

he felt if it had been too long and he had honestly missed you

too many missions and too many curses, plus classes

you were like a well-deserved break

now, if only he could ask you out…

it should’ve been easy, right?

well, with Satoru and Shouko watching from the shadows, it was a little hard

even you could feel their eyes on the two of you

Suguru even knew that the moment he’d be alone with his friends, Satoru would be making fun of him

calling him a sap or whipped or whatever

he could already picture himself rolling his eyes as far as they could go

Suguru, what did you want to talk about?

Oh, umm…

man, this was hard

how should he word it?

should he ask you to hangout?

on a date?

tell you that he likes you and hope it goes naturally from there?

he could feel his cheeks flush and his thoughts spinning too fast

you were patiently waiting with a smile

it wasn’t too hard to guess what he might want to ask you, but you waited anyway

you’d probably have a hard time as well if you were in his place

you were sure of your feelings, but you wanted him to be sure as well

I… I don’t know how or when I started liking you, but I do and… well, I wanted to know if you felt the same and if you wanted to go out with me?

how could you say not to him?

he had this bashful smile and you could barely see a rose tint on the tops of his cheeks and ears – his hair was definitely not doing a good job hiding them

and when you accepted, Suguru just wanted to hug you, but held himself back and only smiled widely

he’d have an entire relationship with you to be affectionate

you spent the rest of your free time with him, despite not having much left until it got too late and you had to leave

Suguru insisted on taking you home because it was dangerous at night

and yes, Satoru made fun of him as if there was no tomorrow while Shouko looked impassive as she smoked another cigarette, waiting for the circus to be over

Suguru couldn’t care and even slapped Satoru upside the head to make him shut up, which prompted more whining

he had finally asked you out and you reciprocated his feelings

Satoru making fun of him wouldn’t ruin his night

and you were surprised to see him waiting for you in front of your door on the morning of your date

his hair was mostly in a bun – looking all soft and making you want to run your fingers through it – and he was dressed in black, which made him look even taller

as soon as he registered the sound of the door opening and you appearing, he stopped and stared at you

because you looked so good

well, you always looked good, but now it was all for him and your date

hopefully one of many

Suguru was snapped out of his reverie when you greeted him and he straightened up, taking your hand in his as the two of you started walking

his hand was warm and held yours securely – and it felt so nice and just right – as he told you about where he was taking you on your date

when you arrived to a little alleyway coffee shop, Suguru held the door open for you, helping you take your coat off and pulling the chair out for you to sit as soon as you found a free table

like a true gentleman

he could also feel his phone buzz constantly in his pocket as the two of you talked, but he barely paid it any attention

and of course, he knew it was Satoru, teasing him – he never stopped, did he?

sent him a few choice words in response when you went to the restroom

Satoru was acting all pouty and like a child being scolded

yes, he sent a selfie showing off his pout and those innocent-looking eyes

when you came back, you both continued your date

what you both knew about one another from before this date never seemed to be enough

it was fun talking about your childhoods, your friends, the places you’d visited, things you’d seen and tried

also talking about where the next date might take place

honestly, Suguru wanted to take you to so many places

even for this first date

but for now, he’d listen to you and maybe surprise you by taking you somewhere where you liked it a lot or where you wanted to go to

Suguru looked like a lovesick fool with how he was staring at you with a smile on his face and his chin in his hand

just listening to you talking and watching how you were moving your hands for emphasis

if he thought you were adorable before, you were even more so now

you’d both talked for hours and even shared some of the sweets you’d chosen while there

which were great, by the way

who knew Suguru could a get a little bit careless when he was eating something he liked?

Suguru, hold still for a little.

Hm?

his cheeks were stuffed as he slowly lifted his head, a questioning look in his wide eyes

you swore his face flushed when you wiped the side of his mouth and even the tip of his nose with your napkin

he didn’t know if he was embarrassed or crushing even harder than before

but he thanked you anyway with a barely noticeable stutter at the smile you gave him

it had been quite a few hours since you’d arrived and you both got up, with Suguru insisting on paying as you both left hand in hand

you wandered aimlessly around Tokyo, window-shopping and talking some more

none of you wanted to go home yet, so you both went to an arcade·       luckily, it was still open for quite a few more hours

you both went around, looking at the games they had before deciding on a few and going to exchange some money into tokens

you tried a few racing games – where you lost by only a few points

and a few shooters – where you won this time, with Suguru pouting playfully

your favourite was probably Taiko no Tatsujin

since you barely had a few more tokens left and you both wanted to play, Suguru let you first

only to come up behind you, hugging you

Wanna play together?

since it might’ve distracted you from playing, you proposed giving him one of the drumsticks (bachi)

Good enough for me.

but his arm was still around you

oh well, he was warm and his aftershave made you want to cling even more onto him

but the game started and you both focused

while you hit the red notes (don), Suguru took the blue ones (ka)

the most fun was when you both had to hit the drum in quick, consecutive hits

Suguru would pull you into his side tighter as you felt his fingers grip both your body and the drumstick

it was so distracting, a little overwhelming and felt great at the same time

he’d never let go of you after that until the song was over

with finishing all of your tokens and having worked up quite a sweat, you both bought some drinks and left soon after

it was starting to get dark and you’d only have an hour or two left before it started getting darker

so you both took a stroll through the park

you’d pet a few dogs whose owner allowed you to

but Suguru seemed even more excited than you and the dogs would usually go to him in the end, smothering him with how much they loved the attention

you sneakily took a few photos

he noticed, but he’d done the same before the dogs came to him, so you were even

in a quieter side of the park, you found a playground

there were only a few more kids, but most of them were ready to leave – at least their parents were

the both of you sat on the swings: swinging, twirling rapidly on them as you turned in circles until the chain above couldn’t turn anymore, trying to swing higher than the other

he loved seeing that smile on your face and hearing your laughter

you both felt like children again

when the temperature dropped and the sun had almost set, you left the playground and the park, with Suguru insisting on taking you home

you both walked a little slower, not wanting the date to end so quickly

but it still wasn’t slow enough since you both reached the entrance of your home

Call me when you get home, okay?

he only nodded, smiling at the thought of getting to talk to you later

he hugged you tightly before kissing your cheek, chuckling at your slightly shocked face, as if you were caught off guard

Let’s keep the best for the next date, hm?

he wanted to kiss your lips so badly, but he wanted to take it a tad slower

he didn’t know if his heart would be able to take everything so soon

with your nod and a sigh of mock disappointment, you smiled at him as he let go, slowly leaving

the both of you were smiling widely as you both went your separate ways

and you felt even happier when you saw your new boyfriend’s number calling, signalling his arrival at his dorm

you couldn’t wait for the next date already

[nblesbianbenhanscom]

43+45 for kaspbroughzier or streddie

anon! hello! a million years later, and your fic is ready! are you even still here? i hope so ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

*

i had to go with the kasproughzier cause i love those goofs and also sonia is the perfect no, really you don’t want to meet my family.

the prompts were ‘trust me, you don’t want to meet my family’ + ‘you may technically be an adult, but you are still my child.’

***

read it on ao3

Little Dashes of Doom

“Eh-Eddie, your phone is r-ringing,” Bill says. It’s the tenth time in the last half hour.

“Just turn it off, Bill. I’m not going to answer it.” Eddie doesn’t look up from his computer.

“Buh-But it’s your ma.”

“I know, Bill. I already told her when I was coming home. She can chill.” He sounds tired, and Bill just wants to wrap him up in a blanket and make him relax between him and Richie. This semester had really kicked all of their asses.

Bill watches the phone as it stops ringing. It dings a moment later with a voicemail. Bill picks it up and turns it off. He kisses Eddie’s hair as he sits it on the table next to him.

“H-How’s the puh-aper coming?” Bill asks as he opens up the fridge. Bill himself had just finished his own last final just a few hours before.

“I hate fucking Shakespeare,” Eddie growls.

“Th-That good, eh?”

Eddie doesn't respond while Bill looks through the fridge. He finds a beer and heads to the couch where Richie is playing on their shared Switch. His legs are spread awkwardly, one up and over the back of the couch, the other hanging down by the floor. Bill sits in between his legs, pulling Richie’s leg into his lap.

“Hey, babycakes, you ok?” Richie asks without looking up.

“I’m ok.” Bill takes a sip of his beer. “You ok?”

“Yeah, fine. Why wouldn’t I be? Shit! I just fucking died!” He sighs and lets the Switch fall to his chest. “What are we doing for food?”

“We have l-leftover p-pizza,” Bill says.

Groaning, Richie sits up and tugs himself closer to Bill with his legs. He leans close and kisses Bill’s neck.

“I am so tired of pizza.” Richie scrapes his teeth against Bill’s chin. “Maybe I’ll just have you for dinner. How does that sound?” They giggle and Eddie huffs from the kitchen.

“Ugh, rude of you to start without me,” Eddie grouses, but there’s no real heat to his words.

Bill and Richie giggle again.

“S-Sorry, E-Eddie!”

“We were just discussing dinner.” Richie kisses Bill’s neck again.

Giggling, Bill pushes him away. “Shhh… St-Stop.”

Richie just pulls him closer and they giggle again.

“If I fail my final, it will be all your faults!” Eddie yells.

“Wh-What d-do you want for d-dinner?” Bill asks.

Eddie is silent for a minute. “Surprise me.”

Bill turns and kisses Richie. “We’re guh–nna go p-pick up dinner.”

“We are?” Richie asks. Bill nods. He holds his hand out and Richie takes it. They go to the door, tug on their coats and boots. It’s cold outside, but Bill just holds tightly to Richie’s hand.

“Where to, Big B?” Richie asks after they’ve climbed in the car.

Bill shrugs. “I don’t care.” He thinks for a minute. “Wh-Where do you—”

“I already told you what I wanted.” Richie winks.

Leaning back against the passenger seat headrest, Bill smiles at him. “Ok, b-but like a-actual food, Richie.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun,” Richie says. They talk for a few more minutes and end up going to the local diner. They get pancakes, fries, salad, and pie. Sometimes Eddie has trouble eating when he’s stressed, and they want to make sure to get him something he’ll eat.

When they get back, Eddie’s computer and his books are in a neat stack. The bathroom door is closed and they can hear him screaming at someone.

“I am working on my finals, mommy!” Eddie screams. Richie and Bill hesitate in the doorway. They look at each other but creep in. It’s been a while since Eddie had gone off like this. When they’d first met him a few years back, he’d yelled a lot more. Richie liked to tease that he was a feral chihuahua until Eddie’d absolutely lost it and tried to beat Richie up. It hadn’t gone well; Richie was so much taller than him and he had just pulled him into a hug, apologies sliding off his tongue. He promised to never do it again. After that, there were less and less explosions until there were none.

“No! No! You listen! I’m doing my work. I’ll be home in three days. Three! You have my–” Eddie pauses. “Please, would you just–”

Richie puts the food on the table and Bill clears away Eddie’s school work.

“God damnit, mom! They are not my roommates, they are my boyfriends. We have been over and over–” Another pause. “Well maybe I won’t come home then!” There’s another pause followed by a loud banging sound and then Eddie begins to sob.

Bill and Richie look at each other as they sit there listening to Eddie cry and yell at himself. Bill can’t quite make out everything he’s saying, but he knows it’s not good. He hears things like pussy, and coward, and little bitch. Things that he’d been told his whole life. Things Bill had thought he’d worked through.

Bill had apparently been wrong.

“I’m gonna go get him,” Richie says, and gets up. Bill catches his hand, and shakes his head. They sigh.

“Wuh–ne m-more m-minute.” He swallows hard. Richie sits back down slowly. Bill hates this just as much as Richie, but he doesn’t want to push Eddie too hard.

Slowly, Eddie’s sobs lessen. Bill wants to get up and go to him, but still he hesitates. Richie leans into his space and rests his head on Bill’s shoulder.

“Can we go get him now?” Richie asks.

Bill licks his lips. He’s about to say yes when they hear the bathroom door open, and Eddie sees them as soon as he looks up.

“Oh,” he says softly. His eyes are red and puffy. He swallows hard several times. “I-I–” And then tears fill his eyes, and his face crumbles, and Richie and Bill go to him, pull him close and let him cling to them as he cries.

“It’s ok, Eddie, we’ve got you,” Richie murmurs into his hair. “We’ve got you.”

“L-Let it out, b-baby,” Bill whispers.

Eddie’s fingers dig into Bill’s shirt as he sobs. His whole body is shaking and Bill wishes he could find Sonia Kaspbrak and give her a piece of his mind, but he tries to push these thoughts away as he kisses Eddie’s hair.

They sit on the couch, and it takes a long time for Eddie to calm down. Even after he’s stopped crying, he still clings to them. He whines when Richie pulls away.

“I’ll be back, my love, just going to get you some water,” Richie says as Eddie grips his shirt hem.

“But I–” Eddie’s hoarse, and Bill can’t help but feel sorry for him.

“I-It w-will help,” Bill says. He reaches out and pulls Eddie’s hand free. “It will help.” Slowly, Eddie lets go and lets Bill lace their fingers together. He leans back into Bill and closes his eyes.

After Eddie drinks his water, he looks around at them with heavy sad eyes. He’s cradled between them, both of them pushing into his space.

“I’m–I’m sorry,” Eddie says.

“What for, love?” Richie asks. He strokes Eddie’s hair, kisses his temple.

“Because I–Because I’m such a freaking mess,” Eddie whispers.

“Yo-You’re n-not a m-mess.” Bill kisses Eddie behind his ear and Eddie’s eyelashes flutter a little.

“Your mom is a fucking cunt,” Richie says.

Bill frowns at him. Eddie usually freaks whenever someone says something bad about his mom.

“Yeah, she is,” Eddie says. 

Bill and Richie make shocked noises. Bill squeezes him.

“I’m just so tired of her. She’s...” His voice waivers and takes a deep breath. “I have to use the bathroom.” Eddie gives them each a kiss before he gets up.

Once the door is closed, Richie looks at Bill, scowling.

“What the fuck is that bitch’s problem?” Richie growls.

“I d-don’t kn-know.” Bill sighs. He scoots closer to Richie. “I h-hate her so much. It’s been s-such a l-long t-time si-since–”

“Yeah, he’s been doing so good.” Richie huffs. “I just wish I could meet that bitch just one time so I could–”

“Trust me, you don’t want to meet my mom,” Eddie says. Richie and Bill jump, neither of them had heard the toilet flush. “C’mon. I’m hungry.”

Sharing glances, Richie and Bill get up and follow Eddie into the kitchen. He’s sitting at the table, pulling the food out of the bag and frowns at the fries.

“Aww, fuck, they’re cold.” Eddie’s lip trembles a little. “I’m sorry. I should have waited to call. I just finished my final and I–”

“N-No, b-baby. It’s ok. Th-The fries w–ill heat up,” Bill says.

“Yeah,” Richie agrees. “That’s why God invented microwaves, right?” He picks up the container and throws it in, pushing buttons quickly. “See? It’s fine.”

Sniffling, Eddie wrinkles his nose. “Nuked fries taste so gross.”

“I think we got some cheese and Ranch. That will help.” Richie goes to the fridge as Eddie looks at the rest of the food and looks up at Bill.

“You two are the best, do you know that?” Eddie asks. Richie kisses his hair as he wraps his arms around Eddie’s shoulders.

“N-No you,” Bill says.

Wrapping his fingers around Richie’s forearms, Eddie kisses his inner arm. “I love you both so much.”

“We love you, too.” Richie pulls away as the microwave beeps.

After they eat, they curl up on the couch to watch TV. They’re all crossed limbs and elbows in stomachs and pulled hair, but they don’t really care. Eddie just lets the others hold him close, pet his hair, kiss him.

“Are you doing better?” Richie asks after a bit. Eddie shrugs.

“Wh-What happened?” Bill asks.

Eddie shrugs again. “Just the usual. I finished my paper like right after you left, so I decided to call her before she called the police like she did that one time, and she said since I was done with my finals that I needed to come home right away. When I said I want to stay with you two, that my ticket is nonrefundable or exchangeable, she said she didn’t care about the cost, that she’d pay and…” He sighs. “She just wouldn’t listen. She kept saying, ‘You may be an adult, but you’re still my child.’” He huffs. “I’ve been financially independent from that old bag for over a year. She has no right to say shit like that to me any more.”

“N-No, she doesn’t,” Bill agrees.

“Honestly, she never should have talked to you that way, ever,” Richie says. Eddie leans a little closer to him. He plays with the strings on Bill’s hoodie.

“I know,” Eddie whispers.

Bill can hardly believe what he’s hearing. His heart fills with pride and he pulls Eddie’s legs into his lap and cups Eddie’s face in his hands before kissing him so, so gently. When they pull apart, Bill pushes his forehead into Eddie’s forehead. 

“L-Love you,” Bill whispers. When he pulls back, Richie presses his own kiss into Eddie’s temple.

“You know, you don’t have to go,” Richie says. “You can come home with us.”

“O-Or we c-could go wi-with you,” Bill says.

Eddie shakes his head. “It will be ok.”

Sighing, Richie shakes his head, no. “You shouldn’t have to deal with her alone. Let us come with you.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Eddie murmurs.

“Y-You d–idn’t. We’re t-telling you. We’re coming wi–th you,” Bill says. Richie smiles at Bill.

“You really don’t–”

“Eds, you may as well give it up. We’re coming with you, and if your mom can’t deal, well, fuck her, and we’ll leave early.” Richie pauses. “In fact, plan on it. We’ll all have to change our tickets, call our families, but we’ll split up the break evenly. It will be fun.”

“We can’t afford that!” Eddie protests.

“Y-Yes we c-can! I just got p-paid for th–at piece I wrote a why-while back,” Bill says.

“No, Bill, you were going to use that for a new computer!” Eddie says.

“I’ll j-just st-steal yours.” Bill strokes his arm.

“You’re ridiculous,” Eddie murmurs, but there’s a small smile on my face. He sighs and leans into Richie. “You guys are the best, do you know that?”

“N-No, you.” Bill laces their fingers together.

“Yeah, spaghetti, you’re the best.” Richie kisses his hair.

Eddie closes his eyes, and settles back.

“We d-don’t have to m-make any d-decisions tonight,” Bill says. “W-We can t-talk t-tomorrow.”

“Ok,” Eddie says. He sighs again and sits up. “You guys wanna do something?”

“Like what?” Richie asks.

“Play Mario Kart?”

“Only if you don't cry when I kick your butt!" Richie says as he pulls himself free and gets up to set up the Switch. Eddie scoots around and leans into Bill's side.

"Yeah, we'll see who cries, Tozier!" Eddie teases.

Bill knows it is a toss-up between the two; they are both really good. It's Bill that's going to be the loser, but he doesn't really care. He's terrible at video games, but he loves being with his boyfriends. 

He sits there listening to them argue about who is the worst player and waits to be handed a controller. He loves listening to them bicker like this, and he knows Eddie bickering is a good sign. Licking his lips, Bill leans into Eddie, eyes closed for a moment. 

"You ok, Bill?" Eddie asks as Richie's attention falters. He's fighting with the cords and cursing under his breath.

"Yeah, I'm good." Bill takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "Love you so much."

Eddie squeezes his hand. "Love you."

"Got it!" Richie says triumphantly. He tosses a couple of controllers at them and sits near the TV. "You two losers ready?"

"Shut up, buttmunch," Eddie says. "Get ready to eat my dust!"

"Bring it!" Richie says. 

Bill struggles with his controller and gets settled. He knows the next couple of weeks are going to be hard. Eddie had agreed tonight that they would change their winter break plans, but that doesn't mean that it isn't going to be a struggle. He knows Eddie wants to break free, but Bill knows it isn’t easy; Sonia has a firm grip on her son.

Bill is not looking forward to the back and forth that is inevitably coming, but he decides there is no point in worrying about that now. Right now, Eddie is happy, Eddie is safe, and the three of them are going to have a good night. Tomorrow is future Bill’s problem, and tonight all he has to worry about is not driving the wrong way on the track. He knows everything will be ok.

[lupin72]

Chenford fic prompt-Stuck in an Elevator

For the anon who asked for a Chenford stuck in an elevator fic. Thank you for your lovely words. I hope you like it.

"One hour to go," Lucy chirped, checking the clock on the dashboard. One hour. And then she was a full fledged cop. She had almost done it.

It hadn't been the easiest two years of her life to put it lightly. She'd been kidnapped by a serial killer, her Captain had died, she'd broken up with her first serious boyfriend, her TO was shot on the first day and months later had almost died again, she'd thought she could get a disease from a used needle and her dad had ended up in the ED.

But it had no means been the worst either. 

She was still getting to work with two of her best friends and the TO, that had two years ago seemed like he was going to do his utmost best to flush her out in a week, she now counted as a friend.

It was for that reason that, despite her excitement at being qualified, a part of her was dreading it. The voice had been getting louder all day, reminding her that even though Tim had made the last three months as hard as he could (she took it as the compliment he intended and perhaps his own care for her wellbeing) she would miss being with him. His voice, despite what it often had to say, had become a constant to her. His presence at her side was a guarantee. She hadn't realized just how much she relied on him to feel safe until she was faced with the fact that tomorrow? He wouldn't be there . 

So she had done her best to drown it out. Teasing him relentlessly about how happy he must be, counting down the seconds until she was free and he got a new rookie to torture.

Tim had remained his grumpy self throughout all of it, not really quipping back as she had thought he would.

"I can tell the time Boot and you would do well to remember, you aren't done yet." He paused as a call came in for a violent disturbance at a nearby office block. Apparently a CEO wasn't taking it too well that his company was going into liquidation.

Tim told them they were on their way.

"Is it wrong I was hoping for a bit more excitement for our last call?"

"Have I taught you nothing, Boot," Tim snarled. The venom in his voice was almost akin to their first shift that Lucy wasn't sure if he was actually joking. But it was Tim, and they were working and he had been acting strange for a week and wasn't telling her why so she knew he wasn't.

"I know Sir, no easy calls," she replied before he could finish whatever rant he was gearing up for. Thankfully, the office block was round the corner or he would no doubt have continued it anyway.

They ran from the car and into the building where the receptionist informed them they should head to the 17th floor.

A small crowd waiting for the elevator parted at Tim's demand and they jumped in .

Lucy swallowed as the doors closed in front of her. The elevator music was an awkward contrast to the fast beating of her heart and their slightly heavy breaths. It was just a short sprint and there was no reason for her heart rate to be so high. Except for the tight confinement they found themselves in.

Only 17 floors, Lucy reminded herself. They would be out soon and she had to be ready for a tantrum. A quick glance to Tim confirmed his jaw was clenched and she knew that he was definitely not in the mood for her to express her need for the elevator to hurry the hell up.

She wasn't a fool. She had forced herself onto many elevator rides, promised herself that she wouldn't develop any sort of phobia. There hadn't been a ride as long as this one though and certainly not one where the tension between her fellow passenger already made the air stiffing. 

Floor 13. The door opened. Tim had his hand already on the close button as Lucy forced herself to apologize to the waiting people rather than getting off herself. The short interlude was welcome though and the daylight from the glass offices gave her some relief. It was enough for her to focus.

Just two more minutes, if that, and they would be out.

She looked up to Tim again, deciding if it was worth trying to thaw the tension just some before they had to work as a team to calm down the CEO, when suddenly the elevator went black.

And then it shuddered to a stop.

Lucy froze as she heard Tim curse from beside her and the pressing of buttons as he no doubt hit the emergency button.

It was probably lit up for situations like this, a welcome little glow in the corner no doubt. Except Lucy couldn't see it. Because she couldn't see anything but darkness. 

And her heart just about stopped.

What relief the brief stop had brought was now gone. The oxygen in the elevator dropped to nothing. She was back in the barrel. There with only darkness. The air grew thinner.

Her legs couldn't hold her up anymore and she fell to the floor. 

  "Chen!" Tim cried, "what the hell?" He dropped immediately to his knees the cry more from shock than anger. Despite how angry he had been at her just moments before. 

All day he had listened to her gloat about her dawning freedom. All day nothing but excitement at getting to be rid of him. As though she couldn't wait. As though she hated every minute of his company.

Sure that had been his plan at first. It always was with his rookies. He made them fear him to garner respect and to test just how good cops they would be. It wasn't out of cruelty or because he didn't care, he actually tended to care a lot about them, or their safety at least. After all that was his responsibility. 

And so what if he cared more about Lucy than the others, if she was the only rookie he could now call a friend. None of his rookies had been kidnapped before. Then again none of them had cried at the thought of him dying whilst sitting on the other end of the door, or recorded him books on tape to help him learn better, or talked him out of aiding his wife, or sent him food, or taken him paintballing for fun.

None of them had made him smile so much either.

And none had collapsed in a dark, broken down elevator.

"Chen can you hear me?" Tim asked, feeling around in the dark for her. He came to his senses and dug out his phone for a light. His hand it turned out was resting on her boot and she had curled herself into a ball.

"Lucy," he wasn't sure what made him say her name. He didn't call her that often. He was a professional through and through and he liked to remind himself that. Maybe at times he had to.

She didn't respond. Instead, her breaths remained loud and labored as though she was gasping for air.

The elevator wasn't large but there was more than enough oxygen and the vent made sure it would stay that way.

Tim moved his hand from Lucy's boot to her knee, the only part he could reach that felt somewhat acceptable to touch. "What's going on Boot? Talk to me." He tried to be gentle he really did  but he knew his voice, in its desperation, sounded harsh. 

He was met by silence but it gave him enough time to get his head together. And he realized what was going on for himself. 

He cursed himself for not realizing it sooner.

"Hey Lucy, its alright," his voice was thankfully softer now, to his ears anyway, "You're in an elevator with me, you're with Tim okay? You're not back there. You survived and you're safe now. We're just stuck for a minute or two and then we will be moving and going to handle that last call you've been celebrating okay?"

His words seemed to be going unheard and if anything she was getting worse.

At a loss, Tim turned to the glowing buttons. He had pressed the help call but maybe if he pressed it again he could get them help and get her out of there. His phone showed no signal.

He shifted to his weight to rise to his feet, when he felt a hand grab onto his arm.

"Tim," Lucy gasped, feebly pulling him towards her. "Don't leave me, please, please." 

"Hey," Tim immediately fell back to the ground and shuffled closer to her. "I'm not going anywhere Boot, I promise, I'm just trying to get us help." But his excuse fell on deaf ears as Lucy kept her grip on his vest firm.

"Okay, okay," Tim whispered, letting her hold him. "I'll call on the radios then alright?"

He took a few minutes to make the call, all whilst Lucy kept a tight hold on him. He didn't mention her stare, just that they needed to send the fire department to get them out and a unit to deal with the call.

He had been tempted to ask for an EMT but decided against it. He had faith .

"Tim," Lucy croaked, she was still tight in her ball but her grip on him had loosened some. "I’m sorry but can you talk to me? Please... I-"

"You don't need to explain Boot," Tim replied, he shuffled impossibly closer and, despite the voice that told him to remain professional, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close to his chest. Her breathing was almost back to normal but from the tilt to her voice he knew what came next. He had seen enough panic attacks in his time and was expecting the sobs that he quickly felt her begin to shake with.

"I've got you, you're safe. Just picture those drinks you'll be having when we get out of here. Karaoke I think you said? Bit of a waste of a good night if you ask me but whatever."

He got a sort of hiccup at that.

The radio crackled and the voice announced that the fire department were on their way but maintenance was already at work. As if on cue the lights flickered on.

Lucy startled at the shock and Tim blinked at the sudden light.

She looked even more frail in the dark, curled up at his side. He had always been conscious of how impossibly small she was but seeing her curled up next to him she looked tiny. "See, they'll be getting us out soon. Trust the firemen to be taking their sweet time though."

Lucy blinked at Tim's words and he watched as she opened her eyes to look up at him.

The moment their eyes met he became aware of the intimate position they were in. But he couldn't bring himself to move. He told himself it was for her sake, he could still see the fear in her eyes, but he knew it wasn't just for her. 

She terrified him.

"Hi," he whispered. It came out more like a breath.

Lucy's breathing was still jagged, he could feel it shifting her body pressed against his but she managed her first response since the lights went out, "Hi."

Tim felt himself relax at seeing her almost back to her usual self.

"Think I can go ring that help button? I really, really want to scream at someone right about now."

A smile graced her features and Tim rose at her nod. 

He got his wish and barked at a janitor to get them out. Lucy doubted it was his words, and probably just luck, but she felt the elevator judder into action and she found that she had the strength to push to her feet. 

Tim turned to look at her and gave her a strong nod which she returned. 

They didn't speak about it until they were back in the shop.

"Sorry," Lucy confessed, "I just, it was dark and I-"

"Don’t apologize," Tim answered,  well aware this was the friendliest he had been in weeks. He didn't feel bad for it, it was all part of the Tim plan, but he knew when to switch that off. It was becoming harder not to press that switch recently. He wanted to be Tim around her more than Bradford, more than Sir. Hell he wanted so much more.

"This, the sort of mental scars you can't seem to get rid of, they don't need an apology. Not to me, not unless they effect your performance on the job. And I know they won't. If we had a perp in here, I know you would have handled it.

"Still, I'll book another appointment with my therapist, talk through some stuff, I've been meaning to anyway."

It wasn't just from the kidnapping. She left that unsaid. After her breakup with Emmet, after realizing she just wasn't ready to let someone in, she had been meaning to call.

But it wasn't just that either. She needed advice on how to change that, on how to let herself be open again because she had someone in mind who she really wanted to be open with.

When he stopped being her pain in the ass superior that was.

"Thank you, Tim. For your help in there and for well, everything else too. I couldn't have asked for a better TO. "

Tim made a signature gruff sound and his gaze remained fixated on the dashboard. Lucy followed it to see what was holding his attention and realized the time.

"You're officially free of me Chen," Tim spoke, turning to look at her. "Congratulations. And if you repeat what in about to say I'll make sure you get the worst calls for the next week but, you were right in that tape of yours. You are the best I've trained. And I think I might actually miss the constant noise. "

Lucy felt tears rise to her eyes and blinked them away. She could see he was holding something back himself but she wasn't sure what. Perhaps it was the come down of adrenaline, or the excitement of graduating but her request passed her lips before she could think it through.

"You know we were planning on going for drinks after shift, Nolan Jackson and me? Well erm do, do you want to come? I think Jackson was going to say to Lopez so it doesn't have to be weird or anything and you won't have to do karaoke but I just-"

"Yeah, I'd like that." Tim put her out of her misery and cut her ramble short. "Lucy."

Lucy blinked at the way he said her name, almost intimate. It seemed to carry an extra weight somehow, it was more than just a mark of her finishing the shift.

Maybe she could find out exactly what it meant over drinks.