#Have I made a funny prompt angsty

[crumbleclub]

a super short ficlet in the blips universe, told from elizabeth's perspective.

Elizabeth and her little brother huddled together on the carpeted floor of her room, and she lifted her hands to cover his ears.

The muffled sound of shouting made its way through the walls, punctuated by a sickening crack. It was quiet for a moment. Then, she could hear crying. It was raspy and gasping and loud; the kind you couldn't mask no matter how hard you tried.

Evan was crying, too, silent tears dripping down his face and leaving damp spots where they fell onto the collar of his shirt. Elizabeth could feel him trembling in her arms, and her palms pressed even more tightly over his ears. Closing her eyes, she willed it all to go away.

"You don't have to be scared, Evan," she whispered. "You just have to pretend."

Elizabeth was very good at pretending.

[vinvantae]

How the current F1 grid acts after going from your friend to lover

Some sections inspired by prompts from @me-writes-prompts

Some are longer than others just depending on how inspired I was, not playing favourites I swear!

Some are angsty, some are fluffy. Some are a lil sexy but they’re all basically just different post friends-to-lovers scenarios. Enjoy!

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#1 Max Verstappen

He relishes in your warm touch against his skin, but he was still so unfamiliar when it happened in front of his friends - even the soft press of your lips against his cheek had his cheeks turning the darkest shade of pink, his next words coming out as stammers. He would be annoyed by the way his friends - your friends - teased him about it but after years of pining - he was just glad he finally got to call you his, your soft giggles filling his ears as he proudly admitted that he was, in fact, a massive simp.

“You’re cute.” You whisper in his ear, laughing when somehow his cheeks darkened even more.

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#2 Logan Sargeant

You could see Logan watching you out of the corner of your eye as the two of you made lunch - you couldn’t help the smile that tugged your mouth. “You’re staring, Logan.” His cheeks flushed, but he approaches you nonetheless - his eyes sparkling. “Can…” He took a deep breath. “May… May I kiss you? Please.” A soft hum left your lips as you looped your arms over his shoulders, fingers carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. “You don’t have to ask… I’m yours.”

He ducked his head to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to saying that.”

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#3 Daniel Ricciardo

The moment the two of you locked eyes, you burst into laughter - tears rolling down your cheeks as you lent into his hold, his cackles bouncing off of the walls as the people around you exchanged looks. “Did I say something funny?” You tried to explain but you couldn’t get a full sentence out without your own giggles cutting you off.

“Are you guys crazy or what?” Daniel managed to calm his laughter just for a moment - his brown eyes sparkling as he looked at you, his smile morphing from one of humour to one of fondness as you tried to calm yourself, wiping away a tear. Crazy in love, maybe.

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#4 Lando Norris

You were rudely awoken by a repeated clacking against your window - none other than Lando stood down on the ground, smiling up at you when you finally opened up the glass to look down. “What on earth are you doing?” You laughed. “You’re my boyfriend now, we don’t need to sneak around anymore.”

When you let him into your place, his hands were immediately on your hips - pressing a deep kiss to your lips. “I miss sneaking around.” He hummed, somehow hauling you even closer. “But I do have to admit… this is better. Showing off to everyone that you’re mine.”

“Yours, huh?” You purr. “Should make me scream loud enough that my neighbours know too.”

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#10 Pierre Gasly

Your breath catches in your throat as he presses you into the wall - his arms caged either side of your head as the music thumps loud in your ears. The smirk that toys on his lips has your heart pounding in your chest. He pressed his body against yours - the months of pining after you were finally over and he had you exactly where he wanted you. “I know exactly what you’re thinking…”

“Oh? You do?” You tease, letting your hands run up his chest. “And what are you gonna do about that, mon amour?”

His chuckle was dark, a thrill zipped up your spine - and as his eyes locked against yours, you knew you were in for a wild night.

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#14 Fernando Alonso

You couldn’t wrap your head around how often his hands were on you - before it was always just a ghostly hand on the small of your back or a gentle hand on your shoulder but now? He’d haul you onto your lap whenever he got the chance, his large hands finding purchase on your waist. Or he’d sweep you into a kiss in front of large crowds, not caring who was watching - and you couldn’t get enough.

“Nando, if I knew you were going to be like this… I would’ve confessed my feelings for you a whole lot sooner” You laughed, as he had practically run away from his PR agent to sweep you up into a massive hug.

“I don’t know how I managed to keep my hands to myself for all of those years, I’m just glad I don’t have to hold back anymore.”

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#16 Charles Leclerc

As his arms slipped around your middle, chin coming to rest on your shoulder - you felt content. After years of mutual pining, his touch felt more natural than ever. The two of you had always been close and the transitions from friends to lovers was so natural, his touches became more intentional, his hugs lasted longer - his hands lower. You turned in his hold so you could brush your lips together in a longing kiss, his stubbled cheeks in your hands. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, mon chou.” He hummed. “But unlike all the other times? I can show you just how much.” Your laughter was as light as air as he scooped you up into his arms to whisk you to the confines of your bedroom.

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#18 Lance Stroll

Things were still new, fresh, so you decided to keep the nature of your blossoming relationship between the two of you private. But that didn’t stop you from stealing glances at each other across the garage whenever you could, struggling to hold back the smiles. He was brought back down to earth when an engineer nudged a shoulder against his- turning to be met with a teasing, raised brow.

“So, you two..?”

“We’re friends.”

“Just friends?”

He let his gaze fall back to you, unable to help the smile on his face as you gave him a knowing look.

“Yeah, just friends.”

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#20 Kevin Magnussen

Kevin wasn’t huge on PDA, sure - he was more than happy to hold your hand, but for the most part he kept his hands to himself, especially at work. But when it got busy, sardines packed into a small office space for some last minute announcement - he’d always find his way to your side, arm brushed right up against yours. As Ayao addressed the room, he leant in - his voice a whisper. “Fancy a distraction?”

“Depends what you have in mind, Kev.” You whispered back, eyes forward - trying your best to pay attention, but your cheeks instantly heated up as his hand ghosts over your rear.

“You have no idea, søde.”

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#22 Yuki Tsunoda

You’d fallen asleep on Yuki before - he used to freeze up, determined not to move an inch in order not to wake you. But this time, with your head on his chest - hand splayed across his shirt, he simply pulled the blanket off of the back of the sofa and laid it across you both.

He smiled softly as you grumbled and snuggled in closer, allowing him to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head and close his own eyes - just enjoying the weight and warmth of your body on top of his.

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#23 Alex Albon

It was surprisingly warm as the two of you laid on a picnic blanket under the stars, your head rested on his chest - a strong arm tucked underneath you. This was the first real time you’d spent together alone since you’d both finally admitted your feelings and it felt so right. You let your eyes flicker across the stars, a soft gasp passing your lips as you witnessed a shooting star.

“I don’t think Greggs is open this late.”

“How on earth did you know I wished for a sausage roll?”

He chuckled softly. “I know you better than anyone else.”

“Do you though?”

His gaze flickered down to you as you propped your chin up on his chest to look up at him, the smile on his face fond. “Of course I do.”

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#24 Zhou Guanyu

“Open up.”

You opened your mouth, allowing his hand to guide the spoon between your lips - hand cupped beneath your chin to catch any potential dribbles. He watched with eager eyes as you swallowed, the flavours washing over your chin. “Oh my god, that’s delicious.”

“And to think, you doubted me.”

With a playful roll of the eyes, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve never cooked anything more than instant ramen in my presence. How was I supposed to know?”

“Cooking is my love language, so get used to it… gonna make sure you’re never hungry.”

“Oh, a boyfriend who’s my own personal chef? I am lucky.”

He grinned at that.

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#31 Esteban Ocon

You wobbled as you fished through the piles of jackets on the bed, trying to fish out your jacket as Esteban leant against the doorframe with a playful smile on his face. “You should just stay here, mon ange.”

A soft whine left your lips. “Estie, I shouldn’t.”

He approached you, his hands wrapping around your middle - pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Stay. I insist… it’s cold out, I’ll keep you warm.”

After a moment of protest, you looped your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. “Okay, you’ve convinced me.”

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#44 Lewis Hamilton

Although you were more than friends, you were still yet to let him put a label on it. Too scared that saying you were more than just two people screwing, would open yourself up to heartbreak.

But it was different this time, his eyes full of want as his fingers brushed across the skin of your jaw. You wanted to be his, you lent in to kiss him but his grip on your face stopped you, a smirk tugging on his lips. “Lew, please.”

“You know exactly what I want, sweetheart.” He whispered, lips brushing lightly over yours. “I need you to say it. I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m yours, Lewis. Always… Now, kiss me.”

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#55 Carlos Sainz

It was crowded and loud, shoulders bumping against yours - throat burning from having to shout loud enough for anyone to hear you. You swirled your drink in your glass, chin propped up on your hand as you lent against the bar. Carlos could see the scowl on your face from across the room, so he politely excused himself from his friends to approach you.

“Mi vida.” Somehow you managed to hear his low purr over the music. “You look bored.”

You looked up to him, his brown eyes boring into yours. “So bored.”

He chuckled softly, pressing a deep kiss to your lips - stealing your breath. “We should definitely get out of here? Don’t you think so?”

It was almost comical how fast you nodded, letting him haul you out of the club.

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#63 George Russell

“Stop walking away from me!” He practically yelled, halting you in your tracks - you turned to face him, tears rolling down your cheeks. “You’re my best friend, I just.. I just can’t lose you.”

You scowled. “God, I hate that word.”

“Lose?”

“Friend.” You groaned, rubbing your eyes. “George, we’re not just friends, we’ve not been just friends for a long time…”

He stepped closer, taking your hands away from your face - linking your fingers together by your side. “I know, this is all just so new to me. I care about you endlessly… I want this, us, to work.”

You smiled softly, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly. “We’ll take it one day at a time, okay?”

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#77 Valtteri Bottas

“You look tired.”

You looked up from your coffee as Valtteri stepped into the room - his mullet messy from sleep as he stepped around the kitchen counter to give you a kiss. The two of you had been roommates for two years, but had recently found yourselves falling comfortably in a relationship - his bedroom long since abandoned.

“I did not know you had the ability to snore that loud, Val.”

He let out a snort of a chuckle. “Well, it wasn’t like I knew that you sleep with a hundred stuffed animals either.”

You giggled, placing your mug on the counter so you could pull him closer. “You wanna go back to your own room?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

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#81 Oscar Piastri

“This was a terrible idea.”

Oscar laughed as he stood just ahead of you on the ice - you were holding onto the railing for dear life as you shuffled your skates towards him. He rolled his eyes and effortlessly skated over. “You’ll never get better if you don’t let go. I won’t let you fall.”

With a huff you finally relinquished your grip and made an attempt to skate, for a moment - it feels like you have it, but a second later you’re crashing face first into Oscar’s chest - the two of you falling back onto the ice.

“Oh my god, Osc. I’m so sorry!” You squeaked. “You okay?”

“I got you flowers for our first date and you gave me a concussion, that doesn’t seem like a fair deal.” He teased. “A kiss would make it better.”

With a playful roll of the eyes you lent down to kiss him - definitely a first date to remember.

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A lil bit of everything for everyone! Hope you enjoyed x

[j4desblurbs]

i needed “kisses on the nose” from the prompt list with logan, like, yesterday

give me my soft man!!

LOVE’S PERFECT ACHE

yes i got the title from a hozier song

summary: logan gets mad at you, and makes it up to you.

warnings: i made this angsty but other than that, no warnings

word count: 1.3k

logan had been acting cold ever since lunch.

curt responses, no petnames, a bit more sarcasm than he would usually use for you. all of these things pointed to something that was your fault.

no matter how much you wracked your brain, you couldn’t think of anything you’d done to make him angry.

it’s not until he walks into your shared room a couple hours later that you find the answer.

“wanna tell me what that was back there?” he says, causing you to look up from your book.

“what?” your eyebrows furrow. what on earth is he talking about?

“with scott. at lunch. talking to him like that?”

you feel like you’ve missed a chapter.

“logan,” you huff out his name with a confused laugh. “what are you talking about?”

“hand on his arm like that? laughing your ass off? what’d he say that was so damn funny, hm?” logan seethes.

you think back to your interaction with scott earlier in the day. it was just like any other time the two of you have spent time together. you weren’t entirely sure what was so alarming about enjoying the company of your friend and teammate.

but then you remembered logan has a temperament, an extreme distaste of scott, and a jealous streak like nobody’s business.

“logan,” you sigh. “it wasn’t like that at all. i was just laughing at a joke he made.”

he scoffs, his tone condescending. “yeah, right.”

you bristle at that. he almost never talks down to you like this. suddenly, a pocket of anger bubbles into your chest. before you know it, you hear yourself saying:

“funny, i never acted like this while you flirted with jean.”

logan stops cold.

“i never flirted with jean.” he says, plain and simple.

you scoff. if there was anything you hated, it was being treated like you were dumb.

“don’t,” you warn. “don’t do that.”

“do what, sugar?” his tone is condescending, demeaning. it brings the beginning of tears to your eyes.

“don’t pretend like i don’t know.” you blink, trying to hold back your tears, but one falls and makes its way down your cheek.

logan falters. he hadn’t meant to make you cry.

“honey-“ he tries, but you brush him off by holding up your hand without another word.

it’s only after you make it to the first empty room you find that you allow yourself to break down. ———————————————————————————

for the rest of the day, logan isolates himself, staying in your room as the hours tick by.

he was never the best at communicating.

by all means, he was trying. he really was, but it was just so goddamn hard sometimes. he could never get the words right and often ended up causing even more damage to whatever situation he’d fucked up in the first place.

he knew you weren’t doing anything with scott, of course he did. but some part of him deep inside couldn’t help but think that he wasn’t enough for you, or someone bad for you. so, when his worst fear was even remotely realized, he lashed out in ugly ways.

logan lets out a sigh. why’d he have to fuck this up? he had never meant to make you cry. it was the last thing he’d ever want. all he’s ever wanted was to give you the love you deserve. to protect you. never to hurt you.

and he couldn’t even do that.

he gets up, putting out his cigar. it was about time he stopped wallowing in his self pity and started looking for you so he could apologize.

he does end up finding you, in a small room off the gym. logan’s heart cracks when he sees you, curled up against the corner, knees to your chest, eyes red.

what had he done?

he says your name, and his chest tightens even more when you visibly bristle at the sound of his voice. the sight’s almost enough to bring tears to his eyes.

logan strides over, kneeling next to you. his hand is warm and strong when he places it on your back, but your body still tenses when you feel his touch.

“have you been here the whole time, bub?” his voice is soft, his familiar scent of tobacco and leather and pine enveloping you and making you almost give in and bury yourself in his arms.

almost.

you give him an almost imperceptible nod of your head, not wanting to speak just yet.

really, you didn’t trust yourself to not burst into tears the second you tried.

he sighs, shifting his position so that he’s in front of you. his hand gently pulls your chin up to make you look at him, his thumb wiping away the tear tracks down your face.

seeing how red your eyes are makes his heart do a slow twist in his chest. he had done this to you. and he wasn’t sure he knew how to fix it.

“i’m sorry.” his voice is quiet, gravelly. “i didn’t mean any of it, honey.”

you finally force yourself to meet his eyes, blinking slowly. he was lying. you knew it, could feel it.

logan rarely said anything he didn’t truly mean.

“i know you did. i know you meant it.” you say, the weak, broken tone of your voice hurting him even more.

“i want to explain. believe me. but i just can’t put what i’m feeling…..together. into words.” logan looks down, his mind racing. he was never good at expressing his feelings, and he was most certainly going to fuck it up if he did it without thinking it out.

“maybe you could try.” your voice, low and cracking slightly from lack of use, breaks him out of his thoughts.

he lets out a soft breath, unsure of how to explain himself. he owes it to you to try. to have what might possibly be the world’s most uncomfortable conversation if it meant that you didn’t loathe him like you did right now. for everything you do for him, it’s the very least he can do for you.

“you mean a lot to me, darlin. a lot more than it might seem. so when i see you talking to another man, happy with another man,” he trails off, a lump forming in his throat. “it hurts me. because every day i doubt that i’m the right one for you. every day i’m terrified that you’ll get tired of me, of us, and leave.”

as he talks, you slowly start to open up, pulling your knees away from your chest and wiping the remnants of your tears away from your face. your hands find his face, cupping his cheeks as you get onto your knees to reach him.

“logan.” your tone is firm. “why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

seeing the man you love, normally so tough and headstrong, almost curl into himself is a strange sight to stomach. logan seems small like this, not because of the way he’s crouched in front of you, but because of the palpability of his fear.

he clears his throat before he speaks, his voice soft. “i didn’t know how to say it.”

his hands come to rest on your waist, pulling you against him into a hug. he rests his chin on the crown of your head, one palm sliding up to rest on your back.

as you reciprocate the hug, you feel the tension melt away from his body, his arms tightening slightly around you as the thought clicks in his head: you still wanted him.

“i’m sorry, baby.” logan whispers into your hair. “i’m so sorry.” he pulls you away from him a little, kissing your forehead, then your cheeks, and finally your nose, resting his forehead against yours afterward.

you close the gap, pressing your lips to his, tasting faintly of tobacco and coffee. he kisses you back with equal gentleness. it’s a sweet, soft kiss that you both melt into.

you relish in the fact that you’ll have many more kisses just like these.

[jinhyun]

Omggggg

Lino and the "friends? Why are you looking at me like that?" prompt, where he asks reader what they are, and is finally frustrated (and whipped) enough to come clean about his feelings, after some time in their fwb/situationship, or wtv they had going on

Like some angsty (or maybe funny?) thing, with a happy ending obviously, it's all up to you if it's something you're interested in writing :)

Love your works, hope you're doing great love!!

"What are we?"

"Friends?" you answered in a heartbeat.

And maybe your answer had come just a little too fast for his liking; like you were too fucking sure of the fact that the two of you were just friends.

Not even the way your head had tilted as you spoke, or how your tone had come out as more of a questioning one, was enough to convince him you were not entirely sure of your answer either.

Minho remained silent, staring at you intensely enough to let you know with his eyes alone that he was not pleased at all.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you asked, voice almost like a whisper.

He shrugged, taking his eyes off you and focusing on the door instead — the locked doorknob only seeming oh-so-ironic by then.

"Minho?" you pushed it, following his eyes and growing nervous at the sight of the cynical smile curving up his mouth.

"It's just funny, I guess" he finally replied, eyes fixing back on you. "I'm pretty sure friends don't lock themselves in the bathroom just so they can make out while all their friends are downstairs. I guess I got it all wrong".

"Stop it," you mumbled, grabbing his wrist when he tried to reach for the doorknob. "Are you really mad right now?"

"Should I not?" he raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I don't know, I..." you took a deep breath, not understanding how it all went wrong so fast. "I thought this is what you wanted? We were good like this? No strings attached?"

"Maybe at first, but things have changed now" he stated, looking into your eyes for some kind of confirmation. "Am I really the only one who feels that everything's changed between us?"

He wasn't. So, you let him know by lowering your head.

It had all started with a drunken kiss that later turned into more, but neither of you were stupid enough not to realise that the alcohol intoxicating your systems had only given you the little push you needed to do what you both had wanted to for a good while by then.

So, the next time it happened, neither of you needed to use alcohol as an excuse. And after that it just kept happening — over and over, like it was the most natural of things between you two.

You had never sat down to discuss the grounds of whatever this new dynamic of yours was. You were just friends who enjoyed the intimacy of each other's bodies, and you were okay with it so far. Your friendship didn't have to change because of it.

But it did.

Before you could even tell, it did; and you both were left feeling like the kisses you shared and the touches that made you come undone in a matter of minutes, meant something deeper than just two friends having fun together.

It was unspoken, but there had been a switch in your relationship; and although neither of you had been brave enough to bring it up —until now—, you both had welcomed it with open arms.

"Are we really just friends?" He asked.

You laughed under your breath, weakly. Still too stunned by the sudden question.

"What's so funny?" He frowned.

"Nothing," you shook your head, looking up to meet his eyes. "I just, never thought you'd care about labels".

"Well, obviously I'd care when Chan is trying to set you up with one of his friends".

That's when it hit you, why he had dragged you upstairs only a couple of minutes after the whole 'dating' topic was discussed — crashing his mouth against yours the moment the door was closed and cornering you against the sink, where he would later sit you down on.

Most importantly, however, it hit you why the question that was looking to define your relationship had so smoothly ran past his lips.

Smiling, you took a hold of his wrists, pulling him closer and placing them on your waist, before your arms snaked around his neck.

"So this is just you wanting to have some kind of claim on me?"

"I wouldn't call it a claim on you," he disagreed, softly caressing your sides with his thumbs out of utter habit. "Just, don't want you to go out with other people".

"Just say you fell for me and go" you smirked.

"Shut up..." he sighed, gently letting his forehead rest on yours. "But you're mine, though".

You could hardly hold back a squeal at the sound of those words abandoning his mouth, but you somehow managed to by biting your lip and shaking your head in defeat as a wide smile tried to break through. "Didn't you just answer your own question now?"

"Nope, I just said you're mine" he pulled you closer, tightening his hold on your waist. "Still don't know what we are".

You sighed, lovingly this time. It almost felt like a dream, where you got what you had wanted all along. Almost too surreal to believe this was reality.

"All of this because Channie vaguely mentioned setting me up with one of his mates?" You couldn't help but incredulously let out.

"Yes, now give me a proper answer".

"Why don't you take me out on a date first?" you proposed. "You know, like, a proper boyfriend and girlfriend date?"

You could see the way he beamed at the mention of said labels; he did not try to hide it at all. "And then I'll have my answer?"

You smiled, tenderly brushing your lips against his. "And then you'll have your answer".

Laughing under his breath as his hands cupped your face and his thumb traced your bottom lip, he whispered a small 'okay' before he closed the gap between your mouths.

Just like that, closing the deal.

"And you better not hit me with the friends bullshit again, becau—"

You shut him up with another kiss. One that would last longer, and that was enough for him to know you would never try to deny the obvious feelings between the two of you again.

[nahoney22]

Poisonous Thoughts***

The Bad Batch PROMPT EVENT

Crosshair X F!Reader

word count: 1.6k

prompts:

Person A: go fuck yourself

Person B: fuck me yourself, you coward.

With your relationship already on the rocks, Crosshair’s jealousy about your friendship with Howzer only adds fuel to the fire.

warnings: NSFW, 18+. sexual themes and explicit language. Jealous Crosshair, name calling, angsty, slight spoilers for episodes 6&7, implied blowjobs, mutual pining, first kiss, enemies to friends to friends to enemies to enemies to lovers. This was pretty bad and messy and all over the place. Order 66 mention.

authors note: part of the TBB PROMPT EVENT by @arctrooper69, @dumfanting & @freesia-writes. Thanks for the tag 🤍 and seeing as most people wanted me to write for Crosshair in my last poll it seems only fitting to do this!

Your relationship with Crosshair was chaotic, to say the least.

From initial animosity to a begrudging tolerance, and finally to friendship within a span of a few months, you found yourself developing a deep emotional connection with the Marksman. A very deep one. He was the kind of person who you would search for in a crowded room, wanting him to get you away from it all.

Your feelings for him left you in a state of confusion for quite some time, thoughts almost poisoned and fueled by a hope that perhaps he felt the same. There were signs—his genuine smiles reserved only for you, his seeking of your advice in moments of need, and the subtle shifts in his demeanor around you.

Then came Order 66.

When it began, you lost him. The moment it was issued, you felt his absence keenly not physically but mentally. He suddenly turned cold. And then he was gone.

And despite the anger that filled your heart for months, you almost found solace in considering his actions to be his inhibitor chip. There was a glimmer of hope but when Kamino fell, his unwavering loyalty to the new Empire blinded him.

The memory of that night alone in your bunk, crying until your throat burned, never faded. You even entertained the desperate idea of pleading with Hunter to turn back and bring him onboard, but deep down, you knew it was futile. Your love for him was over before it truly began.

Months later, as things spiraled from bad to worse, you found yourselves reunited. In that moment, your mind was a blank slate. You didn't know how to react or what to feel. Your emotions oscillated between love and hatred, a cycle that seemed endless. But there was a bitterness in you.

Each day brought another round of tiptoeing around Crosshair. While the others seemed to have moved past his past transgressions, eager to bury the hatchet, for you, it felt like starting over from square one.

He exuded the same coldness and distance that characterized your initial encounters, his silence speaking volumes. That is until Howzer spoke to you.

As you engaged in small talk with Howzer, Crosshair couldn't resist interjecting with his unwelcome remarks. You understood Howzer's animosity towards Crosshair, but what puzzled you was Crosshair's hostility towards him. You shot him bitter glares whenever he spoke out of turn, only for him to leave before any response could be made.

What was his problem?

This scenario repeated itself several times. From the corner of the room, you could feel the weight of that familiar glare from times past, and as your eyes met, Crosshair's stare remained unyielding.

One evening, yourself and Crosshair found yourselves aboard the Remora with Echo. "You and Howzer seem... close," his drawling voice came from behind you, causing you to momentarily freeze, shooting Echo an annoyed glance as he awaited your response.

"I speak to him the same amount as I speak to everyone else," you retorted, rolling your eyes after mustering your voice, refusing to turn around to face Crosshair.

"Funny," he began, "I don't recall you speaking to me that much."

Gazing out of the window, a slow realisation dawned upon you. He was jealous. The absurdity of it all almost made you smirk. Despite the flutter in your stomach wondering why he could be jealous, you relished in the opportunity to make him squirm first. "Perhaps he has more riveting conversational qualities."

Echo audibly inhaled a deep breath, seemingly perpetually caught in the crossfire of arguments involving Crosshair and someone else. Meeting Crosshair's gaze this time, a small scowl etched onto his face, you continued, "I have my doubts."

"No need to," you added, meeting his gaze squarely. "I don't see him wanting to talk to you anyway. And the same goes for me."

"Thought you grew up from being a brat?" His words ignited a fiery rage within you, prompting you to rise to your feet. "And I thought you had some more respect for yourself. But you're just a jealous little man," you shot back, your words laced with venom.

Echo swiftly intervened, positioning himself between the two of you. "Can you guys do this elsewhere? All this bickering is giving me a headache."

Crosshair's gaze shifted away from yours, his demeanor faltering. "Gladly," he muttered before stalking off, leaving you to follow in his wake.

Once out of earshot, you wasted no time in confronting him. "Got nothing else to say, huh?" you challenged. "Are you going to try and deny that you're jealous?"

"I have nothing to be jealous about," he snarled, plucking the toothpick from his lips and slamming it to the ground. "You're not mine."

You couldn't help but laugh, a bitter edge to your tone. "You're right about that. You had your chance, and you blew it."

For a moment, you watched as he froze, his expression betraying a hint of confusion. "What do you mean I 'blew it'?" he demanded, his voice tinged with incredulity.

Suddenly, the weight of your words hit you, and you found yourself looking down, shaking your head. "Nothing. I didn't mean to say that," you murmured, hoping to retract your statement.

"I don't believe you," he countered, stepping closer, his presence enveloping you entirely. "You never liked me."

A sudden pang of realisation struck your heart. With your stomach tied in knots, you met his intense gaze. "Is that what you always thought?"

He continued to stare you down, searching for any hint of deception, but to his surprise, he found none. Yet, his stubbornness refused to accept it. "You're lying," he insisted, his voice firm.

"No," you muttered, your voice trembling with emotion, "but I wish I was."

He scoffed dismissively, turning his back on you with a bitter twist to his expression. "I don't get you. If you had these feelings, why did you never tell me?" His voice cracked with frustration, his shoulders tense with unresolved tension.

"I could say the same," you shot back, your bravery tinged with desperation, clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way you did. But as his gaze met yours, a storm of conflicting emotions raged within you.

His frustrated glare softened briefly, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability before he turned away again, his back a wall of defense.

Memories flooded your mind—quiet moments shared between you, moments where unspoken words hung heavy in the air, suffocating in their silence. You remembered the times when he seemed on the verge of opening up, only to retreat into himself.

In that moment, a surge of resentment bubbled within him, fueled by months of unanswered questions and unspoken truths. "Go fuck yourself," he spat, his words dripping with anger and self-loathing. Yet beneath the anger and hurt, there lingered a flicker of longing, a desperate yearning for connection buried deep within both of you, waiting to be acknowledged.

“Go fuck me yourself, you coward.” The words tumbled from your lips before you could even process them, but in that heated moment, consequences be damned.

He whirled around, his gaze piercing into yours as he strode towards you with purpose, until you were backed up against the wall, his breath hot against your face. "Say. That. Again," he demanded, his voice laced with urgency, his eyes searching yours for any sign of sincerity.

It wasn't a threat; it was a plea, a desperate plea for honesty amidst the chaos of emotions swirling between the both of you. Did you mean it? Of course. Of course you fucking did.

Your breath hitched in your throat as tears threatened to spill from your eyes, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Crosshair, I..." you began, your voice faltering as you struggled to find the right words to express the tumult of feelings coursing through you.

"I know," he murmured softly, his gaze softening as he understood, as if everything that needed to be said had already been said.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips against yours in a swift yet tender kiss, his hands cradling your face gently, overwhelming you with a rush of warmth and longing that eclipsed both of your poisonous thoughts.

“Come with me,” he rasps against your lips, a gentle tug on your hand that had you willingly coming with him and far, far away from Echo’s ears.

He guides you through the ship until you both come to the refresher, both of you tumbling inside as your kisses become fervent, desperate and needy.

He pulls back for a moment, gazing down at you as if to see you were real and not a figment of his imagination before his lips latch onto your neck, sucking and bruising your skin. You whine in pleasure, keeling into his body as your hands move down to his crotch.

Softly, you palm against his erection, gasping as you feel the outline of his hardening cock. “I want you Cross,” you gasp as his teeth graze along your flesh.

He growls low and guttural, but understands, “I know kitten,” his hands travel up the underside of your shirt, fingers stroking against your breasts as his hips involuntarily jerk into the touch of your hand, “as soon as we get back to Pabu… fuck, I can’t even begin to tell you what I’m going to do to you.”

You grin, a sultry laugh parting your lips. “Perhaps you should show me.”

“Refresher isn’t big enough.” He grunts, “but I could give you a taster?”

His tone is suggestive and your core pangs with arousal at the possibilities. “How so?”

He gazes down at you, one hand now cupping your jaw with his thumb dancing over your lower lip. There’s a longing, a love in his eyes but unmistakably there’s one of pure lust too. “Get on your knees and find out.”

More Crosshair Works

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[thenightwolf51]

So i originally had this idea when i reblogged this post by @saphushia but i wanna just seperate it out as its own little prompt.

A quick context is that Danny seems to be roaming around Gotham like some homeless cryptid, kinda Bus to Nowhere style but with more vigilante interaction and casual offerings of first aid. And the batkids are keeping their adoption bait First Aid Cryptid(tm) secret from Batman.

One set of tags in the reblogs from @little-pondhead caught my attention

I came up with both funny answers and an angsty answer for that "#why?" but here's the angsty one (though i promice i actually envision it to be more hurt/comfort with a lot of family fluff)

Actual Prompt⬇️⬇️

Something happens, maybe a reveal gone wrong, maybe he got capture by the GIW, maybe he lost Jazz and his parents somehow.

Whatever it is, it leaves Danny with a need to escaped to a new dimension which just so happens to end up being the DCU. He winds up in Gotham and is just trying to start over, easier said than done but at there's plenty of heros around so he doesn't need to go ghost and he can still patch up the local vigilantes to feed his obsession. He's just not up to being Phantom yet and he's still recovering from whatever happened in Amity, whether it be mentally or physically.

Plus these vigilantes are kinda fun to mess with. Danny can practically see the gears turning as they try to put together and make sense of his little "lore drops", that Red Robin almost reminds him of Wes in a way.

Its not like he really needs to hide anyways. There's no GIW here, no Anti-Ecto Acts, if it really comes down to it he could probably pass as meta and fall under those protection laws. Judging by Signal, Danny's pretty sure Batman's bluffing on the whole "hating metas" thing anyways.

It takes awhile before Danny actually does meet the big bat himself and the reaction he gets is nothing anyone was expecting.

You see theres one little detail danny couldn't have been warned about, and its that there just so happens to be a version of Jazz here.

Except this Jazz lost her Danny when they were in high school, as in full on dead and gone Danny, no halfas here, the portal simply did not work and it was just regular ole lethal electrocution that hit her little brother.

What if she grew up with a young Bruce somehow, whether it be because CPS took her from the Fentons after her Danny's death or Amity Park simply doesn't exist in the DCU making Gotham the city with the thinnest veil and thus where the Fenton's chose to settle down.

This Jazz is an adult in her 40s but was once a kid smart enough to go to Gotham Academy on scholarship (or maybe the Fenton's had enough money from patents?). A kid who took one look at young Bruce's grumpy little face and decided he needed a honest friend, one that wasn't after status or money.

This Jazz grew up being a secondary voice of reason for Bruce, ganging up with Alfred in their own crusade to enforce healthy habits on him in between their weekly tea sessions.

This Jazz lost her brother and could not only understand Bruce's resoning on a minor level but encouraged his planned "journey of self discovery and healing". (Though the bat costume he made when he came back was unexpected and she gave him a look to rival Alfred for it)

This Jazz grew up to be a social worker because if anyone had cared enough to take her away from the Fenton's sooner then her brother might've still been alive

This Jazz being the one Bruce calls when he first gets Dick because holy shit he has no idea what hes doing and "Jazz, i just became a father, help!"

This Jazz being a sort of aunt to all the Batkids and is a major influence that has led to their dynamics being similar to Wayne Family Adventures

Bruce goes pale and later calls Jazz after he finally gets a glimps/meets the so called "First Aid Cryptid" his kids have been obsessed with. Because this kid that he's looking at with the barely visible lichtenberg scars... that's a face he hasn't seen in little over 20 years, that's his old friend's long dead baby brother.

Bruce sees danny and his mind rapidly jumps to all sorts of possibilities. Is this a clone? Is this a trap? Are the Lazarus pits involved somehow? Time travel? He does consider a ghost but this kid is too solid and they're nowhere near the old dilapidated Fenton Works building

Eventually, down the line when they get the full story of Danny being from an alternate dimension, Jazz might try to adopt him. Which has potential to be unhealthy but i fully believe Jazz would be aware enough not to project her decades old grief on this Danny, who is so similar but so different to her brother.

(Because I think a Gotham raised Danny would've been similar to a young Jason in street smarts so this Amity raised Danny is noticeably different)

Danny on the other hand... not sure if i could say the same, especially if he just lost his Jazz before winding up in the DCU. But again, this is an adult Jazz in her late 40s with professional experience dealing with traumatized kids, and she'll do her best to help him through it

Im imagining Jazz and Bruce to have a more platonic friendship, maybe even see each other as family, but you could go with Parent Syndrome if you want

(And because i love to see other peoples ideas and opinions, @omnicrafts @ailithnight @atiyasnake @hdgnj @nelkcats @nerdpoe @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 @dcxdpdabbles. Sorry i tag you guys so much but i like your writing, im eager to offer ideas, and your posts have been major sources of joy while ive been hyperfixating on DPxDC)

[candiiee]

ᴅᴇᴋᴜᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ: ꜰᴀᴠ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ

summary: both you and Izuku prepare the other’s favourite food for your anniversary with Bakugo’s help

warnings: fluff

an: sjvhfjdkdj- I was tempted to make this angsty 😈, with Izuku and Reader both thinking that the other was cheating on them with Bakugo

lowkey I don’t like this oneshot

Izuku wasn’t sure how he had bagged you. You were his sun, stars, sky, and moon! His universe! And quite frankly, he adored you. Loved you.

So, for your first anniversary, he decided to make your favourite food, down to perfection, and give it to you.

Funny enough, you had the same idea.

Izuku was your life and joy. Maybe that was over exaggerated, but you loved him with all your being. You weren’t sure how you had bagged him.

So here you were, asking Bakugo on your knees and begging him to help you make katsudon.

And finally after endless nagging, begging and maybe a few fake tears, he had caved in.

Helping you make Katsudon down to perfection, and you listened to his every word with great attention.

He seemed to have this smirk, not like his usual one’s, but one that seemed to say, “Haha, I know something you don’t”

Well, he definitely knew how to cook, which you did not. All you could make was cereal. And an egg sandwich, if you were in a pinch.

But enough about you.

Izuku had gone to Bakugo, on his knees and actual tears, begging him to help him make your favourite food, with the blonde’s response being:

“..fine, nerd. Can’t believe I have to help you get laid.”

That invoked blushing and stuttering, but true to his word, Bakugo helped. He was definitely Gordon Ramsay’s love child.

Finally the day came.

Earlier that week, you and Izuku had agreed to go out for your anniversary in a quaint restaurant.

After you had left, hand in hand, Izuku got nervous.

“Y-Y/N..I made something for you..but it’s back in the..kitchen.” He mumbles, staring at his feet.

You pause, “Oh! That’s funny..I have something for you too, and it’s also in the kitchen!” you pray to the cooking gods, that Bakugo knew his stuff.

You both make your way to the dorms, then head to the kitchen, albeit awkwardly.

You and Izuku get your respective foods, then present it to each other at the same time.

Izuku flushes, “Y-you made katsudon..? For me..?”

You blush and nod, “Yeah..I know it’s your favourite food, so I asked Bakugo to help me make it.”

He blinked, “Oh! I asked Bakugo to help me too!”

You both smile, and thank each other for the gift, blushing.

-

Bakugo watches this, from behind a corner, smiling softly. He shakes his head, “Glad to have helped, nerds.”

@candiiee 2024

Prompts for Dekutober by @getstarried

Taglist: @dokidokidraft , @mo0nforme

[fanaticsnail]

Maybe it's just me, but I feel like tumblr has been eating my asks. I sent one to you a little while ago about an idea I thought was pretty funny, but if it's because you didn't feel comfortable answering or just didn't like it, that's totally okay. I won't be upset if you ignore this for your own comfort. I'm sorry if this is coming off as rude in any way, I'm not trying to come off that way, I promise.

The silly idea I had was, considering the beef between Kid and Beckman (probably one-sided all things considered), what would happen if Beckman had a daughter that fell in love with Kid? I'm imagining a "But daddy, I love him!" type of situation.

Reader: But daddy I love him! 🥺

Beckman: 💀 *thinking about buying 20 more packs of cigarettes*

Shanks: *dying of laughter*

Beautiful, darling anon.

Firstly, I swear to you that Tumblr has not eaten your ask. It's sitting very comfortably in my ask box while I covered my hands and muffled the initial scream of joy in my palms. The cogs have been turning ever since, and it's one of those fics that I simply cannot stop thinking about. I am consumed with it so much that I can almost think of nothing else.

Secondly, I AM OBSESSED WITH THIS PROMPT. I TOLD MY MUTUALS ABOUT IT AND I AM PHYSICALLY IMPLODING.

@jintaka-hane - here's the synopsis 😏

I have made an outline, set up several events, and attempted to make it a one-shot to no avail. It has gotten really angsty really quickly, but I am slowly but surely chipping away at it.

Here is the playlist for "But Daddy, I love him." Synopsis below the cut.

Synopsis:

Shanks always knew the risk he took in claiming a single father as the first-mate to his crew - but not ever did he anticipate an experience such as this.

Having you as Beckman's daughter, and apple of his eye, aboard the Red-Force was always a joy. Seeing the growth from a small child in infancy to a woman of such strength and courage was one of the few rays of sun against the storm clouds gathering in the raging sea.

As assistant to Hongo, the doctor aboard the ship, you opted to remain behind to seek and source out medical equipment for resupply while your father and your crew set sail for a month. Two weeks before they were due to return, you adventure to port where you witnessed the sight of a masked man dragging an unconscious, hulking redhead over his shoulder, with blood and bone breaking away at a mutilated and partially decapitated arm.

Immediately snapping into medical survival mode, you usher the two men to your lodgings and begin the horrible task of claiming the rest of this man's arm and suturing up the rest of his scarred flesh. Slipping in and out of consciousness, his tongue and lips would sing nothing but your praises each time he awoke. You bully him, yelling at him to stay put and keep still - and he flirts with you, telling you "yes, ma'am" and "no, ma'am" with as much of a grin as he can grimace through the pain.

When he finally gains full consciousness, you feel safe enough to tell relay to him the exact amount of damage done to his arm. You tell him you recognise the wound as a haki-infused bullet - something you know of intimately well. You know the treatment, you know the damage, and you know how much pain they can bring to an individual far into the future. He gruffly utters his thanks, asks you how much he owes you for treatment, and you simply roll your eyes and leave.

Before you have an opportunity to leave, he tugs at your hand and urges your faces ever closer together, looking up at you through his eyelashes and claiming your lips atop his. The kiss sparks passion, his injured state prompts your actions to remain careful but longing. He ushers you into the bed beside him and shows you just how much passion he can muster with only one arm and his partial strength.

By the end of the fortnight, you're hopelessly in love with one another. He offers you a place on his crew, and you inform him you already have one. As he reaches the pier where his ship is being repaired, you see your vessel on the horizon. He hooks his arms over your shoulder, first narrows his eyes before immediately widening them in shock.

As you point out your vessel to him, his lips part in shock. He has not only slept with a pirate rivalling his crew, but he has slept with the daughter of a man who claimed his arm from him. And he was in love with you. Desperately and unapologetically in love with you.

And you were none the wiser, only seeing your dad and your family sailing into bay to take you on their next journey.

IT HAS BEEN ON MY MIND EVER SINCE, AND I WANT TO KNOW MORE BEFORE I EXPLODE.

Anyway, that's just me. Thank you for your beautiful prompt, I am chip chip chipping away 🖤

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Heya! I have a request with your angst prompt list number 29 with Cooper!!

Just anything that comes to mind with it. Be creative and have fun, no pressure❤

More Alike Than You Know | Cooper Abbott x F!Reader

Warnings: DARK FIC: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Angst, Reader has been kidnapped, language, Pervy!Cooper, Non-Con, Dub-Con, Choking, Cooper is a sick little freak, Grinding, Mutual Masturbation, Nipple Play, Over the clothes stuff, Drugging, Biting, Edging, Hair Pulling, Mentions of panic attacks, Mentions of fear,

Rating: E -  No Minors!

Word Count: 4.6k

Author’s Note: Thank you for this request sweetheart! I think this is a clear key indicator of why the prompt should not be left up to me because I made this dark, angsty, and somewhat smutty????

If you would like to be tagged, please fill this out

Trust is a funny thing, how are you supposed to trust? How do you know when to trust, or if it’ll be worth the time? We are born trusting; Our life is in someone’s hands – we know no other feat except that. But when in our lives does it switch? When does the light go off in our minds? Is it the first time we feel betrayed, hurt, scared? Is it when we have promises shattered and hopes ripped apart? Or is it when we realize nothing truly matters in life – what exists at the end of the day? It sucks away the trust you have for the world, for the universe. Why do some of us trust too much? Are we afraid that if we don’t, everything we have will crumble? It’s a blessing and a curse to trust, especially with those who only mean harm from the get-go.

That’s how you ended up in your current position, tied to an old wooden chair that creaks with each squirm you let out. Ankles bound down to the grain, wrists falling not far behind. The wirey texture scratched at your skin, causing a burn to invade the area. Your breath rough against the slight chill of the basement. The shiver running down your spine made you feel sick, at any moment you felt like you were going to pass out. Maybe it was the fear of not knowing? Maybe it was the fact that you woke up here? Maybe it was the drugs currently running through your system, on their last legs to keep you bound and complacent. Your head lolls side to side as the fluorescent lights above you buzz with anticipation; A headache focused behind your eyes pounding with the sound. A simple groan releases from your mouth as you try to bring your focus in front of you, seeing a figure sitting in the desk chair to your left, back to you as they type away.

The clicking on the keys does nothing but make you hiss, eyes finally focusing back in as your mind clears – the fog subsiding. Taking a deep breath, you felt a pain ricochet through your shoulder blades that caused a gasp, jutting forward to bend over your knees. The sharpness of it causing you to lose your breath for a moment, struggling to regain it. Unlike anything you ever felt before, this deep-set blast made you question what could’ve caused it, what could relieve it. Trying to blink away the tears threatening to spill, you caught the figure to your left spinning around – their booted feet now facing you easily. Ragged exhales left your parted lips as you started to straighten out, feeling the release of the tension in your back – the crack exhaling all the trauma you faced. “I see you’re up now, hi sleepy head.” The voice rang out in an echo, your mind reeling as you tried to place it.

Letting your eyes focused on the room, you noticed every detail. The stark white walls bare with any semblance that someone lives here. The table against the wall to your right covered in plastic, metallic tools glinting under the bright lights. Across the concrete floor sat a thick blue tarp, stains of what you hoped was rust at your feet – gliding across the entirety of the left side. Your heart started to speed up as your eyes panned closer to the voice, seeing the Victorian era desk pushed against the corner of the room, the antique chair creaking as the figure leans back. The clean yet worn boots they wore were industrial it looked like; They had to work a manual labor job. The crisp denim jeans were clean of any residue or dust – even blood. A plain burgundy cotton shirt sat across their chest, tight in all the right places whilst being loose in others. From the neck down they looked like everyone else, you’d never expect this out of someone like that. It’s when your eyes landed on his face that you threw everything you knew out the window, throwing away everything that made you scared in that moment.

Gentle brown eyes watched you like a hawk – trying to evoke something in you to say you’re safe. It worked in a way, because you felt the fear lessen as you took in his facial features. The gentle tick under his eyes, the quirk of his lips, the soft stubbled grazing his jawline and upper lip. His hair the color of mocha, a few strands falling in front of his forehead like he had been adjusting it, the pomade no longer holding the professional shape. Every other white man you have ever known looked exactly like this; Wholesome, strong, prominent. They held importance in their everyday life, no wonder no one suspected him. It made your chest burn with undercover rage and worry as to why it was you in this position, what your purposes was, and where the actual fuck you were. Sliding your tongue across your teeth, you stared intently into his eyes, never losing a moment to back down.

“Why me?” It was a simple question that held so much behind it. Yet, it was a fully loaded question. The man pondered for a moment, brows creased as he contemplated your question. His right brow cocked slightly as he leaned his head to the right, taking in every angle of your face. A small chuckle released from his lips as he came to his full height, towering over you. “Why not you?” He didn’t blink for a moment, taking in your reaction as your brows went slack, finding what he said hard to comprehend. You were confused, and he found it endearing – cute even. A gentle smile creased across his bottom lip, slipping from one side to both in a second. Reaching forward, he ran the outside of his right first finger against your cheek, feeling how you shivered under the contact. The exhale he released was one of relief, contentment. How soft your skin was against the harsh interior of the room – now realizing it was a finished basement. You shouldn’t have liked his touch as much as you did – reveling in how warm it was against you. Reality set in quick, but not enough to contemplate what this is all for.

“I’m nothing, no one.” There was no hesitation in your voice as your words slipped out, like it was factual. It was bullshit, you are someone, you are important. It was the marketability that made you choose those words carefully. To this man, if you seemed like no one then maybe he would let you go. Shaking your head to push his touch away, you huffed as you struggled against your ties, gritting your teeth against the burn of the rope. “I-I don’t have cash, I’m sorry I don’t-“ you swallowed, thrashing slightly in your chair as you shook. It was a struggle to try and get your words out, finding it difficult to think coherently when your blood was rushing through your ears, your heart thumped in your stomach. As you tried to find your words to express what else he may have wanted to hear, the man held a finger up to you – silencing you as he shook his head. “I don’t want your things. I don’t need them.” It didn’t come out as a question nor a statement – but fact. He was so sure of himself, so sure of what he didn’t need from you, and that was terrifying.

Bile rose into the back of your throat, fear gnawing at your throat, threatening to spill over. Swallowing down the harsh lump wanting to make an appearance, you narrowed your gaze at the man, twisting your wrists behind your back to loosen the rope; Though it would not budge, you needed to try. “Then why?” It made no sense as to why he plucked you, out of everyone else he could’ve had, off the street. Was I walking home, or was I already home? The night prior was fuzzy, a black hole of mystery you were trying to break through – needing to know how he got you here in the first place. The man huffed as he walked closer to you, kneeling in front of your feet. The way the bright lights glinted off of his eyes, shimmering those golden flecks within, made your heart race – you knew it shouldn’t have. There was no denying how attractive this man was, but an utter fucking psychopath is all he would ever be.

Bringing his hand up to your face, the man caressed your cheek softly with his thumb again, sighing into the touch. “You were too perfect to let go,” he whispered, letting the pad of his thumb glide across your chapped lower lip. The way his pupils dilated when he said that made your stomach simmer, a pleasant ache wiping across the area. Seriously, right now? You cursed mentally to yourself, shamed that you were turned on in the moment. Nothing is sexy, nor exciting about being kidnapped and held against your will – but yet here you are, feeling your panties become soaked at the idea of what this man could do to you. You watched at his prominent nose twitched, his gaze slightly narrowing, his lip curling upwards. Mania laid dormant behind his eyes, threatening to spill over at the smallest of actions from you – it was then that everything made sense, as to who this was. Your breath got stuck in your lungs, refusing to release at the thought.

“You’re that guy, from the Lady Raven concert. Aren’t you?” You couldn’t believe it, all this time and only now did you make the connection. Your palms became waxy with sweat, chafing against the hemp rope as your body broke out in a cold sweat. The shiver in which ran through your body made you anxious, needing to get out of this chair and put a good distance between the two of you. Alas you could not, instead stuck to your chair, watching as his eyes grew darker. His smirk never faltered as he watched you with intent, trying to gauge what you were thinking – what was running through your mind. “Which guy?”  He asked, coyly.

“The Butcher.” You remembered what happened last month; The Lady Raven concert wound up being a giant trap to catch him. He kidnapped her, she escaped. He tried to kill his wife, he was arrested. He broke out of police custody and was on the run. It had been almost a month since that happened and yet – he was still perusing around. He was like a ghost, seemingly never existing after that whole debacle. And yet, even you questioned if you made the right call by saying that. Was it really him, could it really be him? He looked intrigued, curious as to how you made the connection, without him ever revealing it. “You think I’m capable of that?” He shot back with a smile, one that would put anyone else to ease. It was sweet, generous and kind – everything a charismatic serial killer aspired to be. He was unassuming, until you got too close. Shaking your head, you turned away from his grip to stare at his desk, trying to keep your emotions level. “I don’t know what you’re capable of.”

He seemed to have won this time, considering the grin that pasted itself onto his lip. A dark laugh seeped from his parted lips as he watched you, his grip on your face getting a bit stronger; Possessive but not enough to hurt you. It was enough to keep you in your place, to silently berate you if you even tried to do anything. Enough to show you the lack of control you had over the situation. You were trying to wrack your brain for his name, what the news had called him outside of The Butcher. It was on the tip of your tongue and yet, you lacked the capability at the moment to remember. C, it was a C. Carter. Cameron. Conner. Cooper. “Cooper. The news said your name.” A smug tone laced your words as your eyes met his; His cool was lost in that moment. That once calm demeanor he put on, the control over the situation was faltering as you said his name. You could see how his eyes grew wider, his smile tucking into a thin line. “You think we’re on a first name basis?”

Anger was prevalent through his words, the nice-guy act falling to the wayside. Pulling back from you with a blank stare, Cooper stood straight up, glaring down through his lashes at you. It all made so much sense now, he was hoping you didn’t know who he was. A triumphant snicker released from the back of your throat as you grinned, watching him. You were not going to back down, you weren’t going to give into him or what he wanted you to be. At the end of the day you are your own person, there was no fucking way you were letting him have the upper hand. Pissing him off as your goal, and by God you were going to do it. “Of course, no one would suspect you,” the words slipped out of your mouth before you could have thought otherwise. You didn’t purposely try to rile him up, it came naturally. Cooper’s gaze never faltered as he watched you, his face still blank, never letting you know his next move. “Typical trophy husband, savior to the town. God, how fucked up are you?”

Cooper began to move around you as you spoke, the last line made him stand directly behind you. Not being able to see him made you fearful, wondering what he could do to you if you did not know. Would this be the end, would everything just go black and you never have a chance to fight back? Bouncing your legs as you stared forward at the staircase, you felt your pulse thrumming against your neck, in your head, in your chest. "Your mind must be a horrible place.” You weren’t purposely trying to egg him on. You lost your sense of having a filter when you were afraid. It was a defensive mechanism for you when things got to be too much for you, and in this current situation it had a way of pissing Cooper off. Warmth started to spread across your back as Cooper got closer, the heat radiating off of him falling down the back of your neck. Letting your eyes close for a minute, you felt the hot pan of his breath over the shell of your ear, whispering: “You have no idea.”

You hated how your body reacted to his words, how close he was to you, how good it felt. Trying to focus on anything else in the moment was impossible, your mind reveling in the close proximity to him. Cooper’s large hands came to rest against your tank-top clad shoulders, enough force to keep you seated but not enough to hurt you. Enough for him to say I’m in control, versus you. Nuzzling his nose against the nape of your neck, Cooper let his hands run down to your arms, his calloused fingertips grazing your skin. “You want to know what’s on it right now?” There was a hint of possession and lust in his words, causing you to gulp down the pool of saliva in your mouth. Gripping your fingers behind your back, you inhaled sharply, licking your lips as you stared forward. “No.” You tried to sound intimidating, mean, enough to make Cooper fuck off across the room again. But to him, it was endearing. The little fight you had in you, he was intoxicated with. “Why? Scared you might like it?”

You had to give it to Cooper, he was cocky – he knew he was attractive and knew how your body reacted to him. Never would he seize the opportunity to exploit that. The dark chuckle that rang out behind you made your skin feel tight, an electric burn radiating down your spine and across your brain at how sexy it sounded. You loathed how much the sound excited you, how even if this situation you found yourself aroused. The brain rot of dark romance ruined the situation, making this out to be a dream versus reality. Trembling under his touch, he nipped at your earlobe with a groan, pulling back slightly to run his fingers over your hair, gently twirling a few strands framing your face. “I’m picturing all the fun I’m going to have with you.” You didn’t miss the groan he released at the end of the sentence, nor did you miss how his hips jutted against the back of your chair. The harsh denim of his jeans rubbing against your exposed skin. “No one around for miles, they won’t be able to hear you scream.”

The quivered whimper you let out was supposed to be inaudible, only for your ears versus Cooper’s. But alas, your body betrayed you. Hearing that made him sigh dreamily, his body dripping with arousal. Cooper’s hand that was exploring your arm came up to slide up your front, between the valley of your breasts, and settling right against your neck. His thumb and forefinger caressed your pulse points, gripping enough to where you could still breathe but, still cutting off the blood flow to your brain. You couldn’t do much except lean back into him as he did so, his lips caressing over your ear. “I bet you are so loud, I bet you beg and beg until your voice gives out.” He let out huskily, using his teeth to nip right behind your ear. The small jolt of pain caused your eyes to close, your body rolling against the chair. Cooper took this as a sign of your submittal, pressing his lips to that sweet spot on your neck, his tongue rolling over the skin. “Just taking everything I give you, such a greedy girl.”

“You’re a fucking monster,” you thought, trying to hide the fact that it was turning you on. His possessive grab over you, the way he was grinding against your back. You felt so fucked up for being turned on in this situation, you felt grimy even thinking about it. Letting your eyes fall shut, you tried to calm yourself down by thinking of anything but the predicament you’re currently in, trying to regain your mental strength if you were going to get out of this. “Call me that again, baby,” Cooper rasped, causing you to break out of your dissociation. Your eyes flicked open quickly to look at the wall ahead of you, creasing your brow as to why he said that. How could he have heard your internal thoughts? “Fuck, say it again.” Only this time you realized you had spoken those words aloud, causing Cooper to thicken in his pants at your degradation. You shouldn’t have found it intriguing at all, or played into it. But sometimes, the mind wanted to do what the body desperately hoped.

“You sick freak, fuck you.” Cooper whimpered into your ear as he grasped your neck harder, pulling your head back into him as he used his other hand to grab at your clothed breast. Through the thin, ribbed fabric of your tank top – Cooper tweaked you peaked nipple, the cold making it stiff. You hated how easily it was to elicit a moan from you through one simple action, a flow of arousal coating your panties. He wasn’t a gentle man in the slightest – in fact he was quite rough. Pulling at your nipple sent a shot of pain through your body, you couldn’t help but whine. Cooper used his torso to push you forward in the chair, removing the back easily as the wood crashed to the ground. The rickety chair made sense, but you never expected such a modification to it.

“I’m almost there sweetheart, keep going.” Cooper sobbed into your neck, biting the gentle skin around your shoulder.

His hips worked in tandem with his hand; Slipping from your nipple to the front of your leggings. Your body opened up for him, your legs falling quickly so he could slip his hands between. The plushness of your thighs made him quiver, his fingers molding to the covered flesh. He was so desperate for you, grinding against your back as he rubbed over your cunt. He could feel the hotness radiating from it; His self-control waning. The elegant sound of your small cries filled the air, your hips moving against Cooper’s hand. His thumb finding your clit through your leggings, pressing harshly against the bud to elicit a loud sob. “I said keep going,” he growled against your neck, biting tenderly at your flesh.

“Y-You’re psychotic,” you managed to let out, your hips grinding against Cooper’s hand. There were no thoughts in your brain, only enjoying the pleasure of which he was giving you. The fucked up nature of this, mixing with pleasure only made your mind reel at what you were feeling. “True evil.” The words fell out in tandem with Cooper’s moans, with his thrusts against you, with the fluctuating grip of your neck, with the deft circles rubbing between your legs, “horrible, horrible, man.” None of your words held any merit in this moment, they weren’t true slipping out from you. But you didn’t want him to stop, as much as you hated to admit it. You needed to cum, needed Cooper to show you pleasure you hadn’t even been able to make yourself feel. In this moment you were submitting to him, letting him have his way – in hopes for a jaded orgasm.

“That’s a good girl,” Cooper grinned against you, kissing over the bite mark he left. With a few pointed thrusts against your lower back, Cooper let out a hearty moan against your flesh, a small bit of drool slipping down your skin. Each thrust he produced was weaker than the last, signaling that he had reached his orgasm, his climax rocketing through his body. The whimpers he was riding out with his orgasm edged you closer to yours, needing to feel him bring you to the edge. “You’re disgusting.” You were desperate to climax, to cum against your leggings, embarrassing yourself for him. You wanted to do anything and everything in your power to please him, if it meant he wouldn’t stop. Letting your hips work in the same motion his hips were, Cooper pressed the palm of his hand hard against your clothed core, placing a few hard slaps to your center. “Sshh, stop pretending to hate this,” he mocked in your ear, sighing dreamily as he stopped thrusting.

“I know your purposely left the door unlocked for me.” The declaration was like ice water, drenching you from your blissful state and bringing you back into your reality. Shooting your eyes wide open, you spun your head to stare at him, seeing the smirk on his lips as he chortled. “I know that you wanted me to catch you in the shower.” He was relentless, driven by his own post-nut clarity to humiliate you, but he had it all wrong. You didn’t purposely leave your door unlocked, your landlord never bothered to fix it when you complained. This was his retaliation for calling him lazy. In a way it was like he knew your manager never fixed it, taking advantage of it – and you. Shivering under his touch, everything felt like acid. His touch between your legs turned to be too much, causing you to try and pull back. The throbbing of his bite on your shoulder you’re your skin crawl. “C’mon, I know what you’re doing.” He was matter-of-fact with his statement, rolling his eyes to drop the act.

Pulling away from you, Cooper came back around to your front, squatting in a low position to stare at you. The reality of the situation came back to full light as you stared at him, the tears threatening to fall once again. Between the frustration you felt of being denied your orgasm, but also in knowing Cooper waited you out, made you feel hopeless. Turning away so you didn’t meet his eyes, Cooper grabbed your chin softly, not hurting you but needing you to look at him. The reluctance you gave him only made him grow harder for you, the softness in his body for you enhancing. “Just say it and I can make it come true.” He was so out of his mind he genuinely thought you wanted this, instead of it just being clouded by lust. It made you feel physically ill, the fact that you gave into him so easily, you should’ve felt shame…but you felt something else entirely. “Complacency isn’t my thing.” Back at it you were with the stone faced act, not giving him what he wanted. It was in that moment you saw the shift in his eyes, the twitch in his jaw, the tick of his nose. He wasn’t pissed, he was silently fuming at your sudden switch.

Pulling his hand away hard from your chin, Cooper stood up on cracking knees, huffing out in annoyance as he peered down at you. “Too bad.” It was monotoned, lacking any sort of empathy or emotion. He said it like it was an inconvenience, like he was too good for you. It made your body reel with anger and fury, the silent rage brewing beneath your skin. Cooper walked away from you and to the back corner, enough out of the way to where you couldn’t see him, fuck you could barely hear what he was doing. The faint sound of liquid being muffled by something made you feel worried, trying to clumsily work the knots in your bindings. You tried to hide your thrashing but it was no use, you were full blown panicking as his footsteps drew closer. It’s when the sound of boots hitting the concrete stopped, that you felt scared.

Cooper grasped hard at your hair, yanking at the root to pull your head back to him, forcing you to stare up at him. “Stay fucking still.” Cooper seethed as he pressed a cloth hard against your mouth, covering your nose completely. Panic radiated through your body as you were bound, a cloth covering your mouth and the ability to breathe taken away from you. The harsh grip he had on your hair made your tears fall, your lungs burn from lack of oxygen. Gulping hard into the covering of your mouth, the sickly sweet taste and smell coating your tongue like an ugly film – breathing in the chemical made your lungs burn. The corner of your vision started to blur, getting fuzzier the deeper your breathed in. Cooper’s face morphed horrifically above you – the evil smirk and glint in his eyes staring intently at you. You felt your body to limp, your muscles seizing to work, your struggles subsiding as everything shifted to black. The only thing you remembered before you passed out, was how Cooper stared at you. It was primal, waiting for his prey. You, were never going back home. That broken lock, cemented your fate.

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Tagging: @minedofmoria @lilly3434 @lunaluvsuu @rplver @kissofdawn666 @hibiskooks @fore45fore @lustskitty69 @rottenangel @anamiad00msday @livelaughl0ve3 @cxrrodedcoffin @greenparadiseperry @ochoag31 @theoraekenslover @fl4weriesworld @exhoism @solarmoonn30 @babygorewhore @amethystblackkchaos

[lynnlovesthestars]

Could you do a Astarion x Tiefling Reader were they are sitting alone underneath there tents canopy in and they are sewing to pass the time humming and doesn't notice Astarion walk up after he was looking for them . ( they could be making something for him maybe for his 'birthday' after learning that it was that day ) .

omg sorry i took so long but my creativity juices flow in funny ways ahah.. to make it a little easier for me, since my tiny brain has been having a hard time in putting words down, i thought it would have been nice to tie this up with a oneshot i wrote a few weeks ago.. i wish i followed better your prompt- though i hope you'll like it.

Ofc reading the part before this won't change the experience, but it was nice to tie them together cause it gave a little continuity and idk anyways i hope you'll like it though it's mostly introspective and a lil angsty when astarion shows up..

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Masterlist.

Part 1. (the one shot i tied this to)

My prompt list for requests.

Taglist: @sessils @spacebarbarianweird (i forgot to add it yesterday cause im an idiot, but better late than never ahah)

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Golden.

Pairing: astarion x GN!tiefling!reader

Summary: the huge tear in his shirt caught your eye again, and you decided to give him a reminder that someone cared about him.

Genre: angsty?, lots of thinking, self-doubt, avoidance✨

You never noticed the tears carefully patched up on Astarion’s shirt until you were retrieving your dried clothes from the fire.

His button up sat up ripped on the stone like you left it on the night before, yet you still couldn’t help but focus on the smaller sewn tears already covering the fabric. It was such a precise job, that you wouldn’t have been able to tell that the fabric was ever broken until you looked closely and the places where the thread was tightly pulled became clearer.

You made a mental note of it as you walked back to your tent, holding up the bundle of yours and Astarion’s clothes.

The camp was lively that morning: yelling, singing, clattering of bottles and pans, along with rustling of the leaves had saturated the air, charging it with an electrifying energy.

In the middle of the chaos, your brain still stirred towards Astarion and the way you woke up curled up in his side, while he was meditating.

The tension that filled the tent the night before was gone. The only thing left from the night before was the ghost of his bite on your neck, and his body holding you to him.

When he broke his trance, he acted like nothing ever happened. Like you didn’t sleep twisted with him, or the way he drove you insane the night before.

You could still feel his lips on your neck as you collected your sewing kit from the tent, which still smelled like him, blood and bergamot.

As you spread the shirt on your lap, you could relive the events of the night before like a bard stuck on encore after encore.

You could feel the warmth of your bodies pressed to each other still spreading over your skin as you carefully prepared the essential to fix the tear.

You studied the tear that spread over the back, you knew it was going to be hard to make it seem flawless like the rest of them, but you wanted to attempt for him.

Worst case scenario, it was gonna stay broken anyways.

As you started to work on the tear, and you noticed how the uneven edges were not coming out nicely, an idea spurred in your mind.

At worst you were already planning on buying him a new one when you reached Baldur’s Gate. You had connections in the lower city, and you knew you could get a tailor to make the same button up if you brought a reference.

You worked on the shirt for what felt like hours, while everyone was enjoying their day, whether they took care of chores around camp or disappeared for walks, but as everyone came and left, the only one you had not seen was Astarion.

It was only when the sun was starting to set that you finally spotted him near his tent as he was looking for something in his bag.

You were just done with the shirt, and you couldn't help but hope he liked it.

You folded the shirt carefully along with the rest of his clothes, and as you were ready to head towards Astarion, he already stood in front of you.

His face was unreadable like he wanted to convey a specific emotion, but couldn't figure out how to. He was tense, his arms were frozen at his sides, so you decided to break the ice.

“I did this for you” You carefully showed him the pile of his neatly folded clothes, and his shirt on top.

“I wanted to fix your shirt, but the tear was too-” You started but before you could explain, Astarion had stopped you almost harshly.

“You didn't have to”He said briefly, it sounded mostly like an admonishment, yet you could have sworn there was some sort of softness to it. 

“I know, but I wanted to” 

“Why?” His furrowed brows were inquisitive, trying to gauge your intentions as he wetted his lips. 

“Cause I care about you, I literally told you yesterday” The words slipped out of your lips just as quickly as your tail was swishing nervously.

He scoffed, folding his arms and turning his eyes away from you. “No one does things for free” You could tell there was something odd from him, as if he was trying to bury something under this indifference he was trying to put up now.

“Count this as a gift then” You jutted your chin towards him and invited him to take the clothes still in your arms.

He was taken aback by the simplicity with which you said those words, almost carelessly, and most of all to the person that deserved them the least, especially how hard he was being with you.

He wanted to quip back but you resumed your explanation before he could even think of a response and he wanted to hate it so much. 

“As I was saying, I tried to fix the tear, but it didn't want to look nice, so I embroidered the shirt with a gold pattern” You explained as you pointed at the button up. Astarion was so focused on shielding himself that he didn’t even look at his clothes, she could have gave him one of her shirts for what he knew and he would have not realized it until he would be in his tent. 

His eyes finally fell on the piece of clothing his mouth fell slightly open. He traced the golden thread carefully, as if it was a creation of his sick mind. “I hope it’s not too much.”You trailed off, your words were warm, almost sticking to his skin like glue. He wanted to shake them off himself, he wanted to yell that he didn’t deserve such attentions, that you were an idiot to do all of this for someone that had planned to use you, but it was like something in his body stopped him from screaming and lashing out at you, the only thing he could manage to do was the simple task he gave himself in the morning.

“I came here to thank you for last night, and for your kindness” He started with a honeyed voice. “But I suppose I have one more thing to add to the list” He clutched the bundle of clothes to his chest, tipping his head forward in thank you.

[heartofwritiing]

could you write wilbur soot confessing his love to a crush? 👉👈

something about how he's been pinning after this crush for so long, but the crush seems a bit avoidant or something

but that's because the crush also has a crush on him and is very very shy qpwimsmanssjslslek sorry im not good with requests

You and me need never be, lonely again.

Paring: cc!wilbur soot x fem!cc!reader

authors note: Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you don't mind the reader being a content creator and i’m sorry she’s not super shy because im not really sure how to write shy lol but i hope you like the request! I just thought it would add to the idea and I've wanted to do something similar to this for a while! This is a request back from august. I am so sorry this took me so long to get out. I've been going through some shit irl but I'm finally starting to come back to writing because I genuinely love it and posting on here since it is my safe space!

line from this prompt list

warnings: friends-lovers, reader lives in the US, brief description of anxiety, the reader sends mixed signals, swearing, kinda angsty, happy end, super unedited!

"No! That was such bullshit!"

The voice of Tommyinnit ran through the speakers of your computer causing you to let out a chuckle that you were the reason for his outburst.

You were playing Gang Beasts on stream with some of your closest friends, and you had grabbed Tommy's character and thrown him off the map by picking him up.

Laughter rang out amongst the group as the screen card popped up saying your username won. You cheered as everyone groaned but dispersed into 'ggs' then that's when everyone started to bid goodnight. You hadn't realized it had been four hours of streaming and playing games, showing the good time you were having with friends.

"Alright chat, that's gonna be it for me today! Please remember to click the follow button if you're new to stream that way you'll know when I go live! byeee!" You did your outro, quickly closed your stream down, and logged out of Twitch.

It was an uneventful stream session, thank god. You’ve noticed more and more how your chat gets when you even mention wilburs name.

“you logging off completely y/n/n?” Ranboos voices asks through your earbuds.

“No, I’ll play a few more rounds if you guys are down,” you respond.

“HELL YEAH!” Tommy boasted. “IM GONNA KICK YOUR ASS THIS TIME Y/N/N!”

“Oh, it’s on gremlin child!” you replied.

Wilbur listened to this conversation on his end, letting out a chuckle. He honestly doesn’t know why you make him laugh so easily. Anytime you threw a genius comment toward Tommy that was deemed insulting, or calling him a name Wilbur fell for you more and more. If only he had the guts to tell you.

You as well wouldn’t admit it but every time Wilbur laughed all you could feel was butterflies punching your stomach and a smile that made your cheeks hurt. You were also falling hard for him.

After about another fifteen minutes, Tommy and Ranboo had bid their goodbyes for the night and ended their calls. You were left in call with Wilbur, the silence could be cut with a knife.

Knowing him for two years was hard. Wilbur was everything to you. He was funny, smart, charming, and overall made you feel comfortable. Something you thought you’d never have with anyone. Having to only talk on call and video made things easier for you. On call you could hide your blushes and smiles from him, but not from your chat who caught every interaction between you and Wilbur when you streamed. The constant ’Wilbur x name confirmed?’ tweets and comments in your twitch chat were recently repetitive and you wondered when you became such a beacon of attention. It gave you such anxiety to have all eyes on you when you wanted to spend time with your best friend.

It was getting obnoxious to the point where you debated making a tweet to get the fans to stop shipping you both, even if you were dating it was no one’s business. Still you never dared to say anything out of fear of stans coming at you in anyway. You didn’t need to draw more unwanted attention to yourself.

“You logging off? it’s getting pretty late for you,” you spoke up.

“Yeah, we both should, by the way what times your flight tomorrow?”

Right, you were flying less than eight hours from now to finally meet your friends inperson. You all had planned this for months, booking hotels and flights, making a whole deal about it. Then you really wouldn’t be able to hide from him for a whole week.

“Around seven-thirty,” you reply.

He hums.

“I’ll let you get some rest, see you tomorrow night darling,” his voice purposely going lower on the ‘darling’ part that you almost didn’t catch it, making your knees go weak.

“N-night Will,” you stutter, end call and slump back into your desk chair trying to calm your racing heart. Meanwhile Wilbur all the way across the ocean in Brighton has a smile plastered across his lips.

About a plane ride, a train ride and car ride later, you are stood in the hotel lobby in Brighton waiting for a late Tommy and Wilbur to arrive. You were super nervous to meet them. Having only been friends for what was a short time, it felt like you knew them for years, so why was this so scary?

You debated in your mind about texting them to see if they were close by, but you didn’t want to come off as annoying and impatient. You wanted to make a good first impression, but again these were your friends. Why were you shaking with nerves?

You fiddled with your thumb’s absentmindedly until you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders, causing you to jump out of your skin. You spin around to be met with a cackling Tommy who is clucking his stomach from laughing so hard at your reaction.

“Fucking gremlin child,” you huffed under your breath, not realizing the evident blood rushing to your cheeks from being startled so easily.

“It’s nice to hear you say that in person,” a deep voice said from behind Tommy. You shifted your eyes to see a very tall Wilbur, who was wearing his round glasses pushed up his nose and curly hair fluffed to the side.

His dark sweater selves rolled up to revel his arms tucked into his side as he gazed at you with a soft smile. Finally after two years of being separated by seas, your best friend was standing right in front of you. It was surreal to say the least.

You laugh and jump forward to embrace him. The number of times you’d tease him over-call about his height made you regret your words. He towers over you as he bends down to your level to give you a long awaited hug. His arms are soft, yet firm as they wrap around your back and cage you into his embrace.

You both pull away, both grinning from ear to ear. He looks down at you with a hint of something behind his eyes, he seems to be genuinely happy to finally meet you in person. which makes you blush at the thought of him looking forward to this moment since you told him you wanted to come here. You're quickly brought out of your moment when Tommy speaks up behind you.

"So he gets a hug and I don't?!" his tone slightly offended.

"Yup, cause you're annoying," you bring a hand up to flick his forehead, causing him to let out a irritated noise. you had only just met him in person but something compelled you to do that. Maybe it was just a reason for you to break the ice and it was working because you all broke out into giggles.

“Im just kidding Tom,” you motion him into a hug.

Wilbur just stood observing the entire interaction between his two best friends. He was thrilled to finally have you here, he couldn't wait to show you all his favorite places, hang out, and get to know better in person. Finally.

The two boys had managed to drag you to the beach, and even though it was freezing Tommy insisted on going to the arcade to try and win another 'vlog gun'. After suffering through loosing a few games, Wilbur managed to win you a little stuffed cat that you promptly named Mr Whiskers.

It was endearing to watch him struggle at most of the games so he could get enough tickets. It was all worth it in his eyes to embarrass himself by losing ski-ball to you, twice, he saw the evident blush on your cheeks and the look you gave him. As if he hung the stars in the sky just for you. It made his chest hurt in a good way.

The rest of the night went smoothly for the most part. More and more, Wilbur had been getting more touchy with you. Though you didn’t mind it at all, maybe he didn’t realize how much he was putting his hand on you as you walked side by side as he led you through crowds. How he held doors open for you. It was sweet.

Maybe he was doing it just to be nice. That small voice in the back of your head telling you thats all it was. Because thats what friends do.

Eventually, the three of you met up with Ranboo and Charlie. They were just how they were online, which made meeting them a whole lot better. Walking around Brighton, making inside jokes and teasing each other. You hadn't been this happy in a while. You can remember the last time you genuinely enjoyed yourself, your friends were the product of that. You were fortunate to have found them when you did. Quarantine was hard on you, much like the rest of the world. So when you were invited to join a group game call, you couldn't pass up the opportunity. That night, something had clicked between you and Wilburt specifically. Then you started to join more calls with the gang and the rest was history.

Sometime in the night, you found yourself walking behind with Wilbur by your side chatting about nothing in particular. Until the comfortable silence filled the air between you, you took a moment to take in the nightlife of Brighton. The street lamps guide your way through the beachside and the pubs on the corner were starting to fill up. As if the city was somehow more alive at night.

"I'm really glad you came," Wilbur speaks, sincerely.

You stop your wide-eyed gaze to look at him and smile softly at him.

"I am too," You gush. "I'm honestly considering moving here,” Now he’s smiling.

Wilbur's brain starts to go a million miles a second. His heart leaped at the thought of you living closer to him. Seeing you in person everyday seemed like a dream come true. He begins to slow his step and a frown replaces your smile. Your own thoughts running rampant now, assuming you might've freaked him out by voicing that you wanted to move here so soon after meeting him in person. Maybe it made him uncomfortable. it was too soon to say something that bold. You had only just met him in person today.

"Listen, Y/N..."

You stopped and your brain got the best of you with his tone. You shouldn't have said anything like that to him. It was too soon.

“I don’t want to sound cheesy, but I need you to know how I feel.”

Oh... OH.

You knew what this was leading to. Realizing why he was acting the way he was all day.

"I like you, more than like you. You're funny, beautiful, smart, and everything I could've hoped for in a best friend. But I can't keep pretending I don't think of you when we aren't talking, or how when I look at you my chest hurts."

Wilbur liked you. Really liked you. You would jump for joy and shout to the rooftops about how much you reciprocate his feelings but something in the back of your mind told you not to. The doubt in your mind from yourself, both your fans online judging. It made you slowly start to panic. You felt as though you weren’t good enough for him.

You saw the aftermath of when his fans shipped him and Niki together. It almost ruined their friendship. You didn’t want that.

"Please say something?" he stops his rant to notice you are staring up at him with blank eyes.

"I-uh," you stutter. "can we maybe not do this now?"

His face falls and it instantly crushes you with regret. His disappointment shows as he gives you a forced smile and nods.

"Y-yeah, let's catch up with everyone, Tommy wants to do this big stream at his place." he gestures for you to move along with him, all while you feel horrible for doing this.

You wish you could take back what you said. You know you've hurt him, It's painfully obvious when he doesn't talk to you for the rest of the walk. You glance at him a few times but he keeps his eyes forward and stoic.

If only you didn’t let your anxiety get the best of you. You had to talk to him at some point, but for now you pushed it aside. The rest of the group didn’t seem to notice the sudden tension between the two of you, if they did nothing was remarked about it.

As you continued the journey to Tommys flat, you and Wilbur still walked silently side by side. With what little courage you had, you reached out your hand and held his in a moment of truce. Giving it a gentle squeeze with your fingers to seal the deal that you would talk later. You heard his soft inhale at the contact and he squeezes back. Your shoulders drop from the weight of tension being lifted off. Maybe, just maybe this ment this conversation wasn’t over.

Back at Tommy’s, the monitor in his cramped bedroom with everyone packed together like sardines; shows the twitch chat flashing by with viewers comments.

“WELCOME BACK TO THE STREAM EVERYONE!” Tommy shouted causing you to hold your ear in slight pain.

“God Tommy, could you be anymore loud?” you wince.

“Look who’s here chat!” he gestured to you with his hands, ignoring your complaints. You waved at the webcam as chat went crazy. He introduced everyone else as they all broke out into a chorus of conversation.

Wilbur was mostly quiet on your left, an occasional sarcastic comment made here and there. You could practically feel his eyes buring into the side of your head. Hopping chat wasn’t noticing how he was looking at you, your eyes shifting to your lap to fidget with your fingers.

Out of view, Wilbur reached over and took your hand picking at the skin around your nails. You had stopped your nervous tick and opted for squeezing his hand. Nobody seemed to notice the sudden shift in both your behavior.

Suddenly you felt tense, the feeling of having everyone’s eyes on you made your mind start to spiral.

Letting go of Wilburs hand, you quickly had excused yourself and walked out of Tommys room and into the kitchen.

Everyone had a mix of concerned and worried expressions as they watched you leave the room but didn’t say anything about it. Wilbur had followed you in pursuit. He found you in the kitchen hyperventilating Your panic had taken over and now your lungs were paying the price for the burning sensation from not breathing.

“it's okay,” he took your face into his hands and held you. “just follow my breaths.

he took a breath in, and you followed.

When you came to your senses, Wilbur had asked you what was wrong and you just began to cry. Everything came rushing down on you.

“Im sorry. I-Im sorry I shot you down earlier, Im sorry for h-hurting you. I-i,” you stuttered over yourself. Wilbur shakes his head at you. He probably thinks you’re such a mess.

“I don’t understand, I know you like me too, so I don’t understand why you rejected me after I poured my heart out to you. Then you go and hold my hand while we're walking.'

Wilbur was right. Playing with his feelings was selfish and cruel. He was completely in the right to question you. You were practically flirting with one another all day, and then you shut down his advances of trying to open your relationship.

“I do wanna be with you.” you sniff. “I'm just really scared.”

"Why darling? It's just me, your silly old Wil." he pokes at your sides causing you to let out a giggle. Your best friend, who looked at you with the prettiest chocolate eyes, who stayed on call with you all night when you couldn't sleep. The only person you told your deepest fears and dreams to.

You take a shaky inhale as you begin to explain. "I don't wanna ruin our friendship, we have something I've never experienced with anyone else in my life. I care about you too much to let me be a distraction in your life, and I am scared that the fans will-"

Wilbur interrupts you with a hand on your arm.

"The fans? darling who cares about that, I care way too much about you to even care about what strangers think. It's no one's business who I, or you for that matter have a relationship with." he clarified. "I love you and nothing or no one will ever change that."

Those three words made your heart leap in your throat.

"Y-you l-love me?" you stutter in disbelief.

"Yes, of course I do."

Tears roll down the apples of your cheeks as you lean forward to engulf Wilbur into another hug. His arms wrapped around your back reciprocating your embrace. your face buried in his neck as you inhale his cologne and your tears dampen his skin.

"I love you too Wil," you whisper.

He squeezes you closer to him in return and this time you don't hold yourself back...

-

taglist: @trashcanduck @ax-y10 @mysticalsoot @idontreallyexistyet @loonalvjy @toastyliltoasts41

[samsvenni]

𝐦𝐜 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐳

nightbringer!lucifer x gn!mc

prompt: mc is way too smooth with their words

wc: 0.9k || tags: a tad angsty || rated g || not proofread

✏️- idk if this will be a series, but this is a silly lighthearted prompt abt mc being too smooth for their own good :))

There had to be something wrong with you. Were his passive totally not aggressive comments not enough? No matter what came out of his mouth, you remained as you were: unbothered and still.

He didn’t like it at all.

He didn’t like that because of your excessively collected attitude, it made that he was behaving like an immature child in this situation. He called you to his room to discuss an important matter. It could’ve been anything really.

His brothers, Solomon, or issues that he found problems in; specifically your role as their attendant. The velvet cushioned chair felt extremely homey and this room had fond memories. You surveyed the room, noticing that some things were missing from the present.

The Eldest sat in his room and watched as your eyes didn’t loom over… anything?

How bizarre.

“So… What did you call me here for?” You kept your eyes on him steady and the smile on your face was comfy as ever.

He sighed and took out a golden paper out of a folder. You recognized the fancy sigil immediately. It belonged to the Royal Family, meaning whatever was inside was probably a royal request from Diavolo. “I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now, but there’s a wish that Diavolo wants both of us to fulfill.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, ‘oh’ indeed.” Lucifer was a lot more ‘playful’ today. That word had a lot of synonyms when it came to the Eldest such as being petty, the heaps of dry humor, and anything that could’ve passed over your head if you hadn’t known him before. But, thankfully, you did. “Diavolo wants us to ‘get along better’. Such a vague request, don’t you think?”

The Eldest waited for any signs of distress and dissatisfaction on your face from the smallest crinkle on your forehead or even the faintest jaw clench. Yet all he found was a big ole’ smile and a wholehearted chuckle that could put the Sun to shame.

“…What’s funny?” Lucifer resisted the urge to scratch his head. His gloved hands wouldn’t do him justice.

“I just can’t believe I now have an official excuse to hang out with you.” Secretly, you wiped a cold, invisible sweat off your forehead. Why? Because you thought that Diavolo found out about the time travel thingy.

You breathed easy, knowing that you and Solomon could live peacefully for another day though it wouldn’t last with the shannegians the brothers came up with.

The only one not breathing easy was Lucifer. You seriously wanted an excuse to spend more time with him? An unfamiliar pounding sensation swirled in his rib cage like a fish racing in a pond.

“…Hmph. I’m surprised. Why not Mammon and the others? They all would appreciate your company more.” He folded his arms in an attempt to mentally bury the peculiar feeling that hadn’t died down.

“Well, Diavolo did say to get along with you, not them. I wanna spend time with all of you equally,” But you have already. Or rather, you did in the present. “-but if I wanna be truthful, I wanna spend the time with you the most. I know you’re busy, which is why I value our time together more, no matter how limited it is.”

Holy lord, that sounded super cheesy.

Lucifer watched you wordlessly, hiding a smirk from forming on his face. The Avatar of Pride was having too much fun with whatever this was. He didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of seeing him smile, but hearing you admit that you found his company more valuable than his own brothers? The Eldest bit his inner cheek to compose himself. If Solomon were here, you could practically hear him whispering to you that Lucifer was no better than a teen gushing over their crush.

The mental image was adorabl- Oh my god, now you need to compose yourself or else you’d be the one manifesting Solomon’s delusions.

Lucifer eyed you strangely before crossing his arms over his pounding chest, “You’re getting quite bold, Attendant. Is this something new you’re trying out?”

“Is it really bold to say that I value you, Lucifer?”

“Sweet words, Attendant, sweet words. Flattery will get you nowhere, especially with me.” There was so much bite in his words. You were so used to how soft he could be, that you forgot that Lucifer’s words could be grating. It was pointless to dwell on it. Right now, you’re not in the present, you’re in the past. You weren’t Lucifer’s past, nor is he your present. Such a thought would only consume you whole.

This time, you weren’t alone. Instead of journeying the present alone, you had Solomon with you. A funny feeling in your heart rippled and bounced around in your chest - The feeling of hope and gratitude was enough to keep you going. “Alright, if you have nothing more to ask, I’m gonna head out now.”

You stood up and opened the door. Before leaving completely, through the small crack, you flashed a smile and waved goodbye to the eldest. “Take a breather from the paperwork once in a while.” Just like that, you were off to take another heavenly nap back in your dorm.

“…Take care of yourself too.” His words never reached through the dark wooden doors. Despite that, it was a step forward to the feelings that found home and rooted themselves in his heart.

[bunnliix]

The Invisible Strings that Bind Us - Chapter Two

Chapter Two! We have some good cute fluff because it's gonna start getting angsty after this chapter, so prepare for that. But for now, we have some wholesome interactions between y/n and the boys. For anyone that saw this posted before, no you didn't.

a.k.a., I may have had to make a couple changes to it after it went live that I forgot about haha

Masterlist

word count: 1.8k

warnings: food, canon skz chaos, I think that's it

Y/n woke up slowly, feeling a bit disoriented. She felt whatever was beneath her shifting, before she heard an Aussie accent. 

“Good morning sunshine.” She heard, opening her eyes to see Chan looking down at her.

“Huh? What the fuck? That wasn’t a dream?” She mused out loud, forgetting that she wasn’t thinking about it. She heard laughter coming from across the room, finding Changbin and Han bent over laughing.

“This isn’t a dream, we promise you. Now, do you wanna sit up?” Chan asked her, to which she nodded. With his help, she sat up and moved to sit against the back of the couch. 

“You can stop laughing at me, god dammit. It wasn’t that funny.” She lightly glared at the two men. It really wasn’t that funny, honestly, she was ready to slap them. If only they were in reach of her.

“Guys, chill out, please.” Chan scolds the two members, raising an eyebrow at them. The boys apologized to Y/n, bowing and saying sorry to her. She waved away their apologies, telling them it was fine. She really didn’t mind, but it’s still not fun to get laughed at.

“So, where do we go from here?” Y/n spoke up, wondering what would happen now. It may not have been the ideal soulmate meeting, but obviously fate didn’t care about that. There may not have been a big outward sign that they were, but she had never felt more at ease with anyone else ever. Even prior girlfriends she had, that she almost thought were her soulmates, never made her feel this right as these eight boys were right now.

“Well, seeing as you landed right in our laps, and also Binnie has our initials plus one more set, and once we match yours up with the last initial, I’d say you’re our soulmate. We can figure everything else out from there.” Chan said, taking charge of the situation. 

Y/n told them all her full name, and her initials matched up with the last set on Binnie’s arm. This prompted Felix to come over and hug her, whispering in her ear how much he’s glad to have found their last soulmate. He laid his head on her shoulder, his arms still wrapped around her, not letting go of her now that she’s here.

All of the boys’ phones went off, pushing them to check and see who’s messaging. Hyunjin groaned, “Ugh, we have to head back to dance practice, they’re looking for us.” He told the rest of them. This prompted many complaints and cries, the boys not wanting to leave their newest soulmate yet. 

“How long do you have to practice? I can just stay here, honestly, it’s not that big of a deal. I have my phone and I can entertain myself till you all return.” Y/n said, smiling up at them. She didn’t mind being by herself for a little while, it would give her some time to process everything that’s happened.

“If we’re lucky, an hour? Depends on how much of a hardass Minho-hyung is today.” Hyunjin replied to her, not managing to dodge the slap from the aforementioned person. He rubbed his shoulder, feeling the pain from the hit.

“Yah! I don’t want to be away from our soulmate either, but keep it up like that and I’ll make you practice for hours.” Minho snapped back at Hyunjin, looking annoyed.

“Okay, let’s chill out, okay? No need to get violent.” Chan tried to pacify the situation, and thankfully it worked

The boys begrudgingly packed up, Minho leaning in close to Hyunjin as they left, telling him that he’d make a nice snack after 20 minutes in the airfryer at 180 degrees. Y/n laughed as she watched them leave, before moving to sit against the armrest, getting comfortable. She decided to think about her situation later, and grabbed her phone, opening up tiktok and scrolling the time away.

An hour later…

Y/n hadn’t realized how much time had passed, and when the door to the studio opened, she jumped and threw her phone up into the air, as she panicked. She however, managed to not fall off the couch, but her heart was running a thousand miles a minute as she tried to calm down. She held onto her chest, looking at the door to see the entirety of the group standing in the doorway, a couple of them trying to hold back their laughter, as others looked concerned. 

“Could give a girl a bit of a heads up, yeah?” She said to them, a bit over the panic.

“We didn’t think you’d be that absorbed into whatever you were doing, honestly.” Chan replied to her, moving to grab her phone from where it had been thrown, and bringing it over to her. 

She sat up, letting Chan sit down next to her. “That’s fair. I didn’t realize an hour had passed, to tell you the truth. But that’s because I’m bad at telling how much time has passed.” She explained. She truly had very little concept of time. She could look at the clock and five hours had passed when it only felt like it had maybe been an hour. It was one of her greatest weaknesses.

“Don’t worry, some of them get like that too.” Felix piped up, moving closer and sitting on the arm of the couch. “Chan especially, the man works and zones out while doing so.” He continued.

“Yeah, and the rest of 3racha are the same way.” Hyunjin pointed out, to which Han hit his arm. 

“Yah, we’re not that bad!” He shouted, pouting afterwards. His little quokka cheeks made an appearance as he did that.

“I don’t think I believe that.” Y/n told Han. 

He continued pouting, even his newest soulmate was being so mean. He couldn’t believe it, and there were giggles from his other soulmates, showing that they were on her side, not his.

“Well now that you’re all back, and I assume free from idol duties for a little while, I’d like to talk about where we go from here, now that we’ve confirmed I’m your last soulmate.” Y/n spoke up, trying to steer the conversation in another direction.

“Well, I think the first thing to discuss is how prepared you are to be the soulmate of eight other people, who I assume live very far away from where you are from?” Felix asked her.

“Well, considering that I’m from Canada, that’s not horribly far, but still a bit farther than I think is reasonable. So I think I’d be moving here, and not the other way round.” She told them, starting to think about the logistics of moving here.

“Ah, yeah. You’d have to move here, but we can help you with every step you need to take. We wouldn’t leave you to do it all alone.” Chan turned to look at her. “We’d have to move into a bigger place too, unless you’d want your own space?” He continued.

“I wouldn’t mind either option, really.”

“Okay, that’s fine, we can sit down with management and get that figured out. They can also help us look for a place for you as well, just as an option.” Chan said.

Y/n nodded, fine with that. She wasn’t picky, it really wasn’t a big deal to her where she’d be living. She’d just be happy to be near her soulmates, honestly.

Everyone went silent as Y/n’s stomach grumbled, the girl herself curling in on herself to try and hide. 

“And maybe now is a good time for food.” Felix said.

“I’m hungry!” Changbin shouted, making a couple of the boys chuckle.

Chan stood up, holding a hand out to Y/n, who took it as she stood up as well. He pulled her along as they followed the rest of the boys towards the JYPE cafeteria, as it was the easiest place to get actual food. It thankfully wasn’t that packed when they arrived, and the boys quickly picked out their food, while Chan helped her decide on what she wanted. She went for some tteokbokki, and the other boys decided that they didn’t mind sharing bites of what they chose, so that nothing was wasted if she didn’t like it

Y/n tried bites of everyone’s food, and enjoyed most of it, with a couple exceptions. Despite that, everyone enjoyed their lunch, and after everyone finished and cleaned up the table, they all headed back up to their practice room, deciding it was a better place to talk than squeezing into the studio.

“So, obviously we have to tell management about this, and also figure out how long you can stay here before heading back to pack up your stuff.” Minho spoke up, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, and I have to talk to my university and try and get that figured out as well. I’m almost finished with my degree, so I’d like to actually finish it off fully.” Y/n told them.

Wows came from a couple of the younger boys, and Y/n blushed a bit. 

“What do you study?” Seungmin asked her.

“History is my major in university.” She told them, proceeding to tell them some of the subjects she’s studied within history. She talked more about her favorite periods or topics to study, after the boys asked some questions about what in history she enjoyed and why she decided to study it as a degree.

The group continued talking about their own hobbies and other things they’d like to do in life, as Chan moved to check his and the others schedules, as well as notifying management that they needed to have a meeting. He found their schedules to have been cleared for the day, after he got a response from management that they could have the meeting in 30 minutes. 

“Well, good news and maybe good news?” Chan piped up, everyone else going silent, waiting to hear the news. “So, we now have a free schedule for the remainder of the day, but we also have a meeting with management in 30 minutes.” He finished. 

A round of groans commenced at Chan’s announcement, as the boys dreaded the meeting with the managers. Y/n looked around in confusion, wondering why they were reacting this way. 

“What’s so bad about the meeting?” She asked, tilting her head slightly in confusion.

“They’re not fans of the bureaucracy of being an idol, so they dread meetings with our managers and team.” Chan explained, rolling his eyes at the boys’ antics.

“Ohhh.” She understood now, it made sense that the whole bureaucracy of being an idol would be boring. She herself didn’t enjoy those things either, let alone how much of this administrative stuff goes on in the background of idol agencies.

The boys decided to go change into something a little less casual for their meeting, and thankfully, the boys had something that she could fit into. It wasn’t much, but it fit and didn’t look horrible on her, so that was what counted. They just joked around and the boys fought playfully until about five minutes till the meeting, when they all headed up to where the meeting was to take place, where they arrived just in time. Chan did a head count, before he pushed and held the door open for all of us to enter.

Prev | Next

Taglist: @queen-thiccness

[outsidersheadcanons]

Imagine each one of the curtis brothers getting injuries or something and the rest having to tend to him!! Where would they get the injury from? What are they all like when they are hurt? How do they react to being taken care of? I can imagine this somehow being funny and angsty at the same time

I love this prompt!! <3

Darry

Let's start with my bbg Darry <3 he gets himself hurt a lot from roofing :( and sometimes it's bad enough that he needs to take off a few days of work

There was one time where he lifted smth wrong and pulled a muscle in his back. It hurt so bad he practically fell off the roof, so his boss sent him home (it was kinda lucky bc it was a Friday).

For the rest of the weekend, Soda took over his chores and responsibilities (cleaning the house, grocery shopping, laundry, and so on). He and Ponyboy even made Darry breakfast in bed on Saturday (and even though the eggs had wayy too many shells in them. his heart melted)

Darry's pretty self sufficient, so even when he's sick/injured he doesn't need too much help doing anything (and everyone kinda stays away from him, bc he can get pretty grumpy sometimes lol)

Sodapop

So... Soda's injuries usually come from being reckless and showing off. One day he decided that doing backflips on the ground wasn't enough... and uhh let's say after falling flat on his arm off the roof he learned that maybe it was.

Sodapop is whiny as hell when he's sick/injured 😭 (and all he wants is attention. being in pain scares him so he was GLUED to Darry the whole time in the ER)

He loves being taken care of <3 a little too much tbh. If you let him he'll ask you to do EVERYTHING "Pony can you flip the page for me 🥺🥺"

Soda also seems like the type to want everyone and their mom to sign his cast (which is fine bc everyone wrote nice things on it! (except for Dally ofc). Pony even drew a cute picture of a horse on it to cheer him up)

Soda doesn't mind being hurt/having a cast that much because it attracts girls to him even more than before (if that's even possible). But soon the DX is full of pretty girls asking "Soda what happened to your poor arm 🥺" (he'd rather die than admit it but he loves the attention <3)

Ponyboy

When Pony gets hurt man. It's over 😭 he starts panicking and his mind immediately goes to "I'm gonna die 🤯"

ABSOLUTELY hates being hurt and will get all emo about it "I don't even remember what it's like for my (insert injured part here) not to hurt 😔"

WILL not accept any help/intervention at all. One time him and Johnny were climbing an old tree and Ponyboy fell off onto his hand and broke it (it was so swollen it turned. BLUE) and almost ran away again when Darry told him they were going to the ER.

He didn't need a cast, just a brace. But he thought the x rays were pretty cool and showed em to the whole gang (greenstick fracture, if anyone's curious).

Like Soda he's needy as hell and he WILL use his injury to his advantage. "Darry it hurts so bad ☹️ can we get some ice cream??" or he'll suddenly. be unable to do his homework despite writing w/ his left hand and having his right hand be broken 🤔

Also. he gets grumpy when he's in pain (angst goes up 150%). It's very overwhelming for him and sometimes. he'll just break down sobbing.

[jerzwriter]

Kaycee reflects on how life turned out exactly as she imagined it and how it didn't when she and Ethan dropped their daughter off at college for the first time. When they leave, they know their journey will lead them back to Boston, but will it lead them home?

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan x Kaycee (Past) Rating: Teen Words: 3,800 (sorry!) Summary: Please see above. A/N: This really took on a life of its own! @tessa-liam asked for two prompts from this list, and I merged it in with an anonymous ask from the same list. The three prompts are highlighted below, and they made for an angsty story! I hope you enjoy it!

This is not part of my HC - but a one-off, one-shot.

Participating in @julychallenge Pink: Love, Black: Loss.

Kaycee raised a cup of hot chocolate to her lips and smiled. It didn’t matter that she was now in her forties; she’d always prefer its silky, sweet taste more than coffee, and she didn’t care who knew it.

Sitting in the passenger seat of Ethan's parked car, she closed her eyes to listen to the sound of a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves outside; the moment felt almost perfect. It was exactly the day she had envisioned when she imagined dropping Emma off for her first semester of college. But as quickly as the thought entered her mind, she heard Ethan’s voice and was reminded – it wasn’t exactly as she had planned.

She stepped out of the car as they walked down a tree-lined path toward the car, Ethan’s arm wrapped protectively around their daughter’s shoulder.

“Now remember, you do not go out alone at night, no matter what. Wait for your roommate, another friend, or call campus security.”

"Yes, Dad," Emma said rolling her eyes. "You seem to forget I grew up in Boston – I have street smarts, Dad.”

The young woman looked to her mother, desperate for a save, and Kaycee reached out to embrace Emma one last time.

“Ethan, I don’t want to leave her either, but it’s getting dark, and it’s a long ride back to Boston.”

Ethan smiled tenderly as he stared at his “little girl.”

“It’s funny. I always imagined it would be me dragging you away, not the other way around.”

“Well,” Kaycee smiled curtly, “life has a way of surprising us.”

It had already been three years. Three years since their assets were divided, custody was determined, and with the scribbling of two signatures on a lifeless document, a marriage of almost twenty years came to an end. They’d come a long way since that painful day. Being in each other’s presence no longer elicited queasiness. The sight of each other didn't lead to dampened eyes or a feeling of guilt that consumed them. Still, it wasn’t easy. But today, they did what they always did best – they showed up for their daughter.

It was a two-hour drive from Boston to Hanover, New Hampshire. Ethan had hoped she’d pick his alma mater, Brown, where she’d only be 52 minutes away. But Kaycee reminded him that Emma’s top pick was originally UCLA. All things considered, Dartmouth wasn’t that far. But when Emma asked if they could all drive her to campus together, that two-hour journey suddenly felt much longer.

They were all surprised at how pleasant the ride up had been. Emma was a ball of nervous energy and chattering non-stop. The joy of heading off to college was mixed with the fear of being away from both her parents for the first time was familiar to her parents, and they both offered reassurance. They marveled over how it felt like it wasn’t so long ago that they were off to college – beginning their adult lives – at the starting line of all their dreams. They hoped Emma would realize as many of hers as they had, but they hoped other dreams would have happier endings than theirs.  

“...and I’m thinking I might double major,” she said without taking a breath. “Because Poli Sci is what I want to do... that’s my passion... but if I want to get into a top-tier law school, I think double majoring in English would be beneficial.”

“Sweetheart,” Kaycee smiled from the backseat. “Why don’t you get through your first semester? Then you can make that call.”

Ethan shook his head with a gentle chuckle. “Can someone tell me how a child with two parents who are renowned in the medical field is hell-bent on becoming a lawyer?”

“Dad,” Emma exasperated. “You always told me to pursue whatever I wanted to...”

“And I meant it,” he interrupted. “But you have to admit, this was unexpected.”

They arrived on campus and unpacked Ethan’s Porche Cayenne – the SUV Kaycee insisted was his mid-life crisis, even though he had already passed that point when he bought it. They could have left as soon as all the boxes were in the dorm room, but they refused to leave until her new bedspread was in place, the matching curtains hung, and little fairy lights twinkled around the perimeter of the room.

With no excuses to stay left, Kaycee turned to her daughter, her voice cracking with emotion. “Well, I guess this is it.”

“Mom!” Emma scolded. “We said no crying.”

“I know. But my baby’s all grown up. I’m entitled to a tear or two.”

The mother and daughter were wrapped in a hug when Ethan returned to the room holding a cardboard tray with two cups of coffee and one hot chocolate – he was elated that his daughter had his refined tastes in hot beverages.

“What did I miss here?” He asked.

“Mom’s starting to get weepy,” Emma smirked.

Kaycee wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “Just finishing our goodbyes,” she said. “I’ll go to the car to give you two some privacy.”

“You don’t have to leave...” Ethan started, but when he realized his ex-wife was about to burst into the tears she had promised Emma she’d hold back, he understood. “Fine,” he said, handing her his keys. “Why don't you wait in the car?”

Kaycee adjusted the passenger seat, admiring the soft leather. Ethan had always preferred to drive, and she’d spent a good portion of her life sitting beside him, but it was the first time she sat in this car, purchased right after their divorce. Remembering a life now lost was already difficult, but her mind rushed to places she had no desire to go.

Ethan had never been forthcoming about his relationships since their split. Of course, she had heard the rumors... some said he was dating the new Director of Nursing, others swore he and Harper had rekindled their old flame. But she never asked Ethan about them; it wasn’t her place. Their conversations revolved around Emma, and that’s how she kept it. Still, as she sat in a seat she once coveted, she couldn’t help but wonder if others now filled that space.

The sound of the driver’s door opening quickly ushered her back to reality, and she was grateful she could blame her tear-filled eyes on Emma.

Ethan turned to her with a tender smile that Kaycee hadn’t seen in some time. “She’s going to be OK," he reassured.

“Oh, I have no doubt about that,” she replied, dabbing her eyes. “It’s me that I’m worried about.”

Ethan had to chuckle. “I know that feeling quite well.”

An awkward silence fell between them. At another time, they would have hugged and offered each other assurances. He would have told her their new chapter was beginning, too. They could focus on the dreams they had planned together, but now, he just fumbled to find a classical music playlist as he started the drive.

“Thank you for agreeing to drive up together,” he finally spoke.

“Of course. Emma wanted both of us here. I’d never deny her that.”

“No, but if I’m being honest, I half expected you to tell me you were taking a Greyhound on the return trip home.”

A slow smile spread on her lips, and she confessed. “I did price them.”

“I bet you did,” he laughed.

The conversation turned to the other comfortable topic between them: Medicine. He lauded her recent article in the New England Journal of Medicine, and he told her when he planned to retire. Kaycee reminded him that Emma embracing law wasn’t too odd; after all, it had been her second career choice, too. He quickly reminded her that he remembered. He remembered more than she knew.

They drove for about an hour when a pinging sound began getting louder and louder. Kaycee tried not to chuckle when the expensive car came to a halt, knowing her trusty old Toyota would have never stranded them like this. Ethan looked under the hood, then returned to the car with a sigh.

“Tripple A will be here shortly,” he informed. “There’s a Porche dealer a few miles away, but of course, they’re closed until the morning.”

“Of course,” she half grinned.

Ethan turned to her with a smirk, and she couldn’t decide if it was one of annoyance or amusement, so she decided to believe it was a little of both.

“Are you enjoying this?” He said sarcastically.

“I always told you that simple was better when it came to cars. There’s no need for the expensive bells and whistles.”

“Yeah,” He chuckled sadly. “You told me a lot of things.��

“I’d tell you what Greyhound could get us back to Boston, but the last one left forty minutes ago... “

“Yep! I think we’re stranded here for the night, too. Not just my car.”

When the Tripple A driver arrived, Ethan and Kaycee hopped into the cab of his tow truck.

“There is a hotel nearby,” the man said. “I’m happy to bring you there. But there might not be any vacancy. A lot of local colleges are welcoming students this weekend, and a lot of parents who aren’t letting go stay nearby.”

“Yeah,” Kaycee barked out a laugh. “We’re familiar with that!"

“Oh, I see,” the man grinned. “You’re those parents. Well, as someone who has been through this, I can tell you it gets easier. Just think of it as the start of your second honeymoon.”

“Oh, no, we’re not...” Kaycee started but decided to skip it as they pulled up to a Comfort Inn. “You know, never mind.”

“This is the only place around here,” the driver informed. “If you can get a ride, there are more places about twenty miles down the road.”

Ethan looked at his watch. “The vacancy light is on, and it’s been a long day. This will do just fine.”

Kaycee ran to the restroom in the lobby while Ethan went to the front desk to secure rooms. When she stepped back out, she saw him grimace.

“Before I tell the desk clerk yes, are you sure you don't want to get an Uber to another hotel?”

Kaycee scrunched her nose. “An Uber in these parts? At this time of night? Unlikely. What’s the matter,” she chuckled. “Did you check the reviews and find out it’s not a five-star rating?”

“No, wiseass,” he smiled, enjoying the banter that used to be part of his daily life. “The problem is, they only have one room left.”

“Oh,” Kaycee said with a fallen face.  

“Exactly.”

“Well,” she laughed nervously. “We’ve round ourselves in this position before, haven’t we?”

Both their minds drifted to the conference in Miami during Kaycee’s intern year.

“Yes,” Ethan replied. “But that was a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.”

“Ethan,” Kaycee shrugged. “We’ve been in each other’s lives for decades. We have a child together. We can share a room for one night unless...”

Unless there is someone in your life who would prefer you didn’t, she thought as Ethan asked her to continue.

“Uhm, never mind. We’ll be fine for one night.”

The walk to their room was peppered with small talk in an attempt to break the tension. But they were both so tired that they really didn’t care. They’d fall asleep, wake up, and find a way home. Everything would be back to normal. That's what they thought until Ethan opened the door.

“There’s only one bed?” Kaycee gasped.

“The front desk said there were two queen-sized beds!” Ethan insisted.

“Well, by my calculations, there is only ONE.”

“Obviously, they were wrong.”

“Noooo!” Kaycee mocked to Ethan’s chagrin. He looked around the tiny room; the only other furniture was an uncomfortable looking chair and desk.

“I’ll sleep in the chair,” he declared.  

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Kaycee insisted. “Ethan, it’s not like we haven’t slept in the same bed before.”

“Yeah... that was the norm for us... until that... changed.”

They exchanged an uneasy look, and both understood the best thing to do was go to sleep quickly. After kicking off their shoes, they both lay perched on the edge of the mattress, facing away from the other. Though they weren’t touching each other at all, their presence was obvious, and as exhausted as they were, suddenly, neither could sleep.

“Kaycee, are you still awake?” Ethan whispered.

“Yes.”

“How is our little girl already in college?”

“I don’t know,” she said sadly. “The years just flew by. And it’s odd because some of those days and weeks felt like an eternity, but I turned around twice...” she audibly gulped. “... and they were gone.”

The room went silent; all Kaycee could hear was her ex-husband's breathing. “So many precious days,” he lamented. “I know I haven’t thanked you enough."

“Me?” a startled Kaycee replied.

“You’re the only one here,” he chuckled. "Emma is a remarkable young woman, and I’m not just saying that because she’s my daughter."

“I know she is,” Kaycee laughed, rolling on her side to face Ethan, who had already turned her way.

“Well, that’s in large part because of you, and I should thank you more often.”

“You’re just as responsible,” Kaycee insisted. “You’re an amazing father, Ethan. You always were.”

He fell silent, hoping the darkness of the room would prevent Kaycee from seeing the emotion in his eyes, though there was no way to conceal it in his voice. If I had been an amazing father, I wouldn’t have let our family end. If I had been an amazing father, I would have fought harder for us to work, he thought, but all that came out was a broken.

“Thank you. You know, when you walked into Edenbrook all those years ago, I had no idea how much my life was about to change,” he smiled as Kaycee shifted uncomfortably.

“Ethan... it’s probably best if we don’t talk about this. I think we should just....”

With that, the lights flicked on, and Ethan was sitting upright.

“Why not?” he asked. “Not making time to talk is where everything started to go wrong for us.”

“It was,” she concurred. “But the time to fix that passed a long time ago. The ink on our divorce papers is long dry, Ethan. This isn't how it works.”  

“It can work anyway we want it to,” he countered. “Kaycee, we may not be together anymore, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be a part of each other’s lives.”

“We’ll always be a part of each other’s lives. We have Emma.”

“I don’t mean because of Emma. I want you to be a part of my life because, with the exception of our daughter, you've been the single most important person in my life. For the past three years, I’ve felt like a stranger in my own soul without you. I miss hearing your voice. I miss your laugh. When I have exciting news, you're the only one I want to tell it to. I want you to be more than the person I arrange drop-offs with, and now that Emma is grown, we won’t even have that.”

“Are you telling me you want to be friends? She asked.

No. I don’t want to be friends. I want us to be so much more, and I wish I had the nerve to say it.

“Ethan,” she repeated after an extended silence. She saw the tears glistening in his eyes as he reached over and pushed a strand of hair away from her face.

“Friends.... or something,” he choked.

Kaycee’s head fell into her hands, partly because she was tired, partly because she was trying not to cry.  

“Ethan, where did it all go wrong?”

Their minds drifted back in time to the days of trying to manage two busy careers with the needs of their child, long days filled with demands, exhaustion, and the feeling that they could never get it right. Sometimes, they fought; sometimes, they held it all in. Sometimes they turned the guilt inward... they weren’t good enough, they were failing, they should be better at this... and sometimes, they projected it onto the other... "You never...", "You used to...", "I can't believe you..." In time, they learned being alone isn't the worst feeling in the world, being in a relationship, but feeling alone was, and when the loneliness became too much to bear, they decided it should end.

“Why did we let it go?" Kaycee sniffled. “There was no affair, no hatred, even our fights weren’t all that bad. Our marriage was like a boat, just drifting away as we watched, and neither of us thought enough to help it change its course.”

“We were focused on work,” Ethan sighed with regret. “Focused on Emma. Then we had elderly parents to care for... it took so much of our time that in the end, we forgot to focus on each other.”

“But we knew what we had was special. Why the hell didn’t we fight for it!”

“You wanted to,” Ethan whispered. “You wanted to. I... I blame myself.”

“Ethan, you weren’t the only one responsible for our marriage ending.”

“I’m the one who stormed out of counseling, telling the counselor that it was absolutely useless. I’m the one who began to withdraw. You begged me to try.”

Feelings they believed to be long buried began to rise to the surface again, and the pain was as raw as it had ever been.

“You withdrew... but I never asked you why you did. I let my imagination get the better of me and...”

“And?”

“Did you stop loving me?” She asked, tears now streaming down her cheeks.

“No!” Ethan gasped. “Oh, God no, I never once stopped loving you.”

“I allowed myself to believe that you did,” she said, wiping her nose with her sleeve. “I felt like an obligation... like if we didn't have a piece of paper decreeing that we had to be together, you'd be long gone. And I swore I’d never be in a marriage like that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“I thought I did,” Kaycee replied. “Maybe not with words, but with actions. I tried to give signs, but..."

“Kaycee, I never learned to read  your mind.”

“I know that... and that’s why I’m as responsible as you for letting our marriage die.”

“I wish I would have fought harder,” Ethan wept as Kaycee’s floodgates opened.

“Me too,” she shuddered. “Me too.”

Ethan instinctively reached for her hand, surprised when Kaycee fell into his arms. His arms encircled her and held her close. Both were overwhelmed by the warmth and familiarity, a feeling of comfort from a time long gone when they were each other’s port in a storm. When they were each other's home.

“I’m sorry,” Ethan cried. “I’m sorry I let it end.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Kaycee cried into his shirt. Ethan went to pull away, but she refused to let him go.

“Please... can you hold me just a little longer?"

“Of course,” he whispered, resting his head on hers as she nuzzled into his shoulder.

Comforted by his touch, Kaycee fell into a deep sleep and slept better than she had in a long time. But Ethan found no such relief; he remained awake all night, never letting her out of his arms until he got up in the early morning hours.

The sun was shining through the window, and Ethan was seated at the desk with an abysmal cup of coffee in hand when Kaycee woke up with a startle.

“Hey, are you OK?” he asked, as she groggily nodded. He moved to the edge of the bed and sat beside her. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing... you’re here,” she replied.

“Did you forget? The car broke down, we had to stay here, there was only one room...”

“No... no,” Kaycee stopped him. “I remember all that. I just had a bad dream. I dreamt that you left me during the night, and I woke up alone.”

“Well, you made sure I couldn’t do that, even if I had wanted to,” he smiled. “You basically slept on top of me all night.”

“I did!”

“You did," he smiled. "Did you at least sleep well?"

“Like a baby – and you?”

“I slept OK,” he fibbed, pointing to the paper cup on the desk. “That cup of swill parading as coffee should help wake me up a little more.”

“Yeah,” she laughed. “I think I’ll make myself a cup, too. If you have to suffer through it, I should, too.”

She flung her legs over the side of the bed, but Ethan grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the mattress.

“Kaycee, I have to tell you something before I lose my nerve.”

A line formed between her brows. “What... what is it?”

“I need to tell you what I should have said three years ago. That I’m sorry. I took us for granted and allowed life to come between us, which was so foolish because you... you were my life. I've felt like a stranger wandering in a strange land where he no longer belongs for the past three years. See, I love you, Kaycee. I never stopped, and the biggest regret of my life is that I let you go. So, I know the answer is probably no, maybe you'll think I’m crazy, and I could be... but is there a chance... any possibility that you and I could try again. If we can, I promise, I'll get it right this time."

He sat in nervous anticipation in every silent moment that followed. Kaycee’s eyes were wide, and her lip trembled, but he wasn’t sure why. It was taking too long. It was taking too long, and he braced himself for rejection... the rejection he now realized that he had feared so desperately that he found it easier to let her go. But it only took a moment for all that to change.

Kaycee threw her arms around his neck, holding him tight as she peppered him with kisses and pushed him back on the bed. Her lips found his, and they came together; their hearts raced as it deepened, their hands caressing the curves they still knew by heart. At long last, they were home.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he smiled breathlessly.

 “What gave it away?” she giggled, kissing him again. “But we have to take it slow. You’re the love of my life, and I want this to work more than anything, but we have to think of Emma. The divorce was hard on her, and we can’t let her know about this until we’re sure... 100% sure... that we’re forever.”

“I agree,” he smiled, his hands running through her hair. “You take all the time you need, but I know... if you’ll have me... this is forever. I don’t want to know a day without you again.”

“Can I have a week or two?" she grinned.

“As long as I can see you during every one of those days.”

After another lengthy kiss, Ethan reached for the hotel phone.

“What are you doing?” Kaycee asked.

“Calling the front desk.”

“Why?”

“Because check out is in a half hour, and we’re going to need this room longer.”

"Are we," she grinned. "I'm not on the schedule tomorrow; what about you?"

“Me?" Ethan beamed. "I’ll be calling out.”

"Good," Kaycee smiled, "Because we're going to need this room for another night."

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[liminalpebble]

If you’re up for something fluffy and/or lighthearted fun - like a month ago I gave another writer I’m following this idea but she‘s been gone since then and I would still love it 🥺

I was in the mood for a Lokitty Fic because it’s been a while and for whatever reason I’min the mood:D If it’s gonna be more fluffy, funny or even angsty is up to you 🫶

Basic idea was Loki disguised as a cat 🐈‍⬛ has been hiding from something/someone in our home. Without him realizing until he’s already in too deep, he starts to fall for us and the way we care for him. Not part of his plan. He hadn’t intended to reveal his identity and surely couldn’t do it now after basically misleading us the whole time.

But what’s been escaping him since as well - we absolutely know. 🤭

A/N: Hey friend! Thanks for this very sweet and fluffy prompt. I accidentally seemed to have made it a multiparter and I have no idea where this is going except definitely to fluff town, and the comfort district. I guess stay tuned? WTF am I even doing??

Much love,

Peb

--

Stray: Part 1

Masterlist link

The rain was tumbling down in heavy sheets as you made your way from the train to your apartment. By now you'd just about memorized how many steps were left from the soaked platform to your door.

The thought depressed you a little, realizing how long you've felt stuck in this life; just another shop girl in the city, a uniform and an apron with a tired person behind it. As the cold water continued to hit you, you were glad to realize the number of steps to the lobby door was finally reaching single digits and picked up your pace in one last jolt of momentum.

Then you heard it; an almost imperceptible mewling under the incessant drumming of the storm. You turned, following the faint noise until you reached the alley and the giant dumpsters housed there. The stench was awful. You held your soaked apron over your nose as you peaked into the crevice. Two of the biggest, most beautiful, aquamarine eyes stared back at you from a void of soaked black fur. It was a cat, and it was absolutely screaming now, realizing it had someone's attention.

It's not like you'd never seen an alley cat before. There were swarms of them around, but there was just something about this one, something so desperately in need of love. The little guy seemed almost confused to be in this position whereas the other strays seemed to resign themselves to their shitty fate.

You braced yourself; tried to talk yourself out of what you knew you were about to do and had never ever done before. It would be incredibly stupid. You weren't even allowed to have pets. You didn't even know if he was sick and you would never have the money to take him to the vet. Regardless, you sighed and scooped the pathetic little creature up, swaddling him in your apron, as you hurried toward the front door. Huffing, you warned him, “Okay buddy, but I swear to god, you better not have rabies.”

-----

Loki was glad to finally be out of the rain and stench, even if it was in a less than ideal form. Several hours earlier he had landed with a crash, cushioned by the heaps of debris. He scoffed realizing his neat black suit and tie and the crisp white shirt were now utterly ruined. His sunglasses were nowhere to be found. The money; all that money that came with him as he dove out of the plane was now safely magicked away, at least.

He groaned pitifully. A fall like that coupled with a mid-air tussle with Thor was enough to floor the younger god, though he hated to admit it. And who was Thor to come after him anyway? This whole D.B. Cooper heist was his fault...all because of that idiotic bet. Loki probably would have laid there feeling very sorry for himself a good deal longer, but he heard the lonely patter of someone running toward him through the downpour. He had to admit he needed help, and it was time for some quick scheming to get it. Good thing this was always his forte.

He had barely accustomed himself to his new feline form and begun mewling loudly when he heard your footfalls slow and watched your shadow move down the alley.

Come on. He thought, imbuing it with the hint of an enchantment. Come find me, mortal.

Loki was incredibly pleased with himself and, frankly, a bit surprised that his ploy worked so easily. Such dull creatures, mortals...such soft hearts., he mused as he dozed in your arms. He was already barely conscious when he heard you quip, “Okay buddy, but I swear to god, you better not have rabies.”

Hey! Rude, he thought, attempting to give a menacing, insulted glare, but it only came out as a grimacing twitch of his whiskers and whining, grumpy, growl.

The human smiled a reluctant little grin and tussled his fur saying, “It's a good thing you're adorable.”

I'm not adorable! I am a god, you dull creature! , he screamed in his mind, but it only left his mouth as another pathetically cute whine.

---

In your bathroom you clipped your wet hair up one-handed and kept the little creature bundled against your chest. Once your hand was free you tested temperature of the bath with a wiggle of your fingers.

Satisfied, you said, “Alright friend,” holding the cat under his armpits and meeting his eyes, as if you could appeal to his sense of logic. “You stink. I have to give you a bath. You can either except your fate with dignity or you can be a little shit and claw my eyes out. I beg you to accept your fate.”

He thought to himself, Why wouldn't I want a bath? I love baths, you idiot. Now clean me, mortal. I tire of....

“Mrewwoooow!” he screamed as soon as his paw hit the warm water. He surprised you and himself as you both flinched violently. Apparently Loki was unable to resist his new feline aversion to water. Okay...okay...this is new. He mused.

“Okay....Christ! Listen here, you little shit! You can either deal with this while I scrub you down with some Herbal Essences, or you can smell like dumpster juice.”

“Meow”

“Yeah. I know...I know it's not the right thing for cats. I know I should take you to the vet first. I know this is not fucking ideal. I'm...I'm doing my best,” you said, with an unexpected hitch in your throat and slightly-welling eyes, as suddenly you both realized you weren't just talking about the bath anymore.

Loki felt an emotion he couldn't quite categorize; one he seldom felt, one others might call sympathy. So he fought his instinct with all his might and remained quiet and while you carefully washed and rinsed his fur. You smiled as your careful hands cleaned every last patch. “Thank you,” you said softly.

My pleasure, he thought, and meant it. It actually did feel very nice to be clean, and if felt even better when you dried him, and wrapped him in a warm towel in front of the space heater, with one bowl of water, and one of tuna. By the time you had showered and settled next to him on the floor in your pajamas, he already had a full belly and was drifting off again in the pleasant warmth. You sipped your tea and stroked his now very glossy and soft black fur.

“See! You're such a handsome boy now that you don't look and smell like wet trash bag. That wasn't so bad, was it?”

From where his head rested on his delicately crossed paws he lazily opened one stunning eye to glare at you menacingly, but it only made you chuckle.

As you laughed and smiled down at him, stroking his fur, he felt something else he couldn't quite name; gratitude, certainly, but also something else...something like wanting desperately to see you smile as much as possible...something like hoping that sorrow he saw a glimpse of before wouldn't eat you alive...something like just wanting you to be okay regardless of the benefit to himself.

The next time he half-awoke in the night, you were gone and the lights were out, though you had left the space-heater on for him. With his now-amplified hearing, he listened for you, anxious to know you were still there. Only once he heard the gentle undulation of your sleeping breath could he relax into dreams again and wonder what tomorrow would bring.

@mischief2sarawr @ladyofthestayingpower @acidcasualties @unlucky-number-13 @goblingirlsarah @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokihiddleston @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @marcotheflychair @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @littlespaceyelf @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @eleniblue @loz-3 @the-haven-of-fiction @sweetsigyn @muddyorbs @icytrickster17 @holdmytesseract @thenerdyoldersister @thedistractedagglomeration @sailorholly @peachyjinx @coldnique @sarahscribbles @peaches1958 @infinitystoner @mischiefmaker615 @coldnique @jennyggggrrr @tripleyeeet @itsybitchylittlewitchy @mochie85