#anyway i swear i was working on that fluff prompt

[edgarallanpoestan]

me writing emduo fics: theyre all in the same universe, this is the same techno and phil every single goddamn time. obviously.

me writing tntduo fics: why the fuck would these be the same characters?? obviously these are different universes for every fic, why would i write them any other way

[always-just-red]

I've been lookin for a writer who takes reqs for lnds 😭 Can i req sfw hcs/one-shot (choose which one u prefer more) for sylus & fem/gn reader?

I remember there was one call for zayne x mc where mc called zayne accidentally because mc was drunk & mc called zayne (accidentally) instead of booking a cab (mc did book a cab but w/ a wrong destination).

Can i maybe req what if the scenario is like that but it's w/ sylus instead? Feel free to tell me if this req is too much or if u wanna decline it, thanks a lot!

My first Sylus fic! Yay! (Don't look at me Rafayel 🥰) Anon your mind is so powerful! This prompt was so much fun to write, so thank you, hope you enjoy!

Wrong Number

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You're having a bit of trouble getting hold of that taxi you booked, but more trouble help is on the way...

Genre: fluff, kinda ends on an angsty note (sorry 😇)

Warnings/Additional tags: drunk reader, some swearing, humour, uses of 'sweetie' and 'kitten', threat of violence/death at the start, a slight bit of suggestion (it's Sylus, ok? He's having ✨fun✨)

| Word count: 2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Mr. Sylus, please! It was an honest mistake— almost indistinguishable from a genuine protocore, I swear!”

Sylus is lounging back in a plush leather armchair, feeling thoroughly short-changed as he turns about a fake protocore with his fingers. He’s been listening to this noise for almost a full minute, growing awfully impatient, though he did like the last excuse.

“Say that again,” he drawls with a sinister smile.

“It was an honest mistake,” the black-market dealer stutters, tripping over his words. “It was almost indistinguishable from a—”

“Almost indistinguishable…” Sylus confirms. “Almost. Almost.” He’s savouring each syllable— tasting them like wine.

“It would have fooled almost anyone!”

“Almost anyone?” Sylus laughs, and it’s a wicked, dangerous thing. “Well yes, I rather think that’s the point. But it didn’t fool just anyone, did it? It fooled you.”

His smile is gone in an instant, his hand closing around the fake protocore, splintering it with a crack. He drops bloodied, sapphire fragments from his palm, red and blue, red and blue, and they skitter across the hardwood floor like rain.

“Please, Mr. Sylus!” the dealer pleads, desperate. “I’ll do anything! I will! I’ll make it up to you!”

“No, thanks.” Sylus studies his palm as it heals. “I’ve had my fill of fake protocores.”

“Sylus!”

The leader of Onychinus stands, drawing his gun with a customary apathy. Dark energy manifests, twisting around the dealer’s limbs, holding him still, while a lone tendril crawls around his mouth, holding him silent. He’s struggling, but he should know better. He should have known better from the very beginning. With a wistful smile, Sylus levels the gun with his head, and—

Something rings.

His red gaze shoots up, instinctively seeking Luke and Kieran, but they shrug from their station at the other side of the room. The sound is closer than that, anyway. Glaringly more familiar. Sylus’s spare hand goes to his pocket, and he draws out his phone.

“Mmm?” he greets, thumb sliding across the screen as he puts it to his ear.

There’s only one person who calls him at this time of night.

“Where are you?” your voice echoes from the other side of the line.

“That’s a question I prefer not to answer without knowing what motivates it.”

“Wha— Sylus?”

“Yes, sweetie,” he drones.

There’s a moment of silence. “Shit.”

It’s not the reaction he aspires to, but you sound agitated, so he’s going to let it slide. There’s a loud crackle from the speaker, followed by a few, harsher sounds, and he pulls the phone away from his ear, wincing slightly. His eyes are trained on the man at his feet, but he lowers his gun, distracted.

“What are you—” he begins, but then he identifies the sound. It’s a finger— your finger— jabbing away at a screen. “If I didn’t know any better, Miss Hunter, I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.”

“No…” you deny too quickly. It’s still there: the tapping. Like Mephisto, pecking furiously at a locked window from outside. A few more jabs, and then…

The call cuts out.

Sylus scoffs, looking down at his now silent phone in disbelief. He flops back into his chair, tossing his gun onto a side table before hitting the button to call you back. You know he’s not a patient man, but you don’t pick up the first time, and so he has to try again. He can be patient for you— he tells himself— as he thinks up some creative ways for you to return the charity. Speaking of charity…

His gaze drops to the dealer. “Get out,” he sneers.

The man doesn’t have to be told twice. He scrambles to his feet as his blood-dark bindings retract, practically throwing himself towards the room’s exit. Luke pushes open the door, the intense music of the nightclub beating through the gap, but Kieran’s being less helpful. He steps into the doorway, blocking any escape. He feints right. Then left. Behind the masks, both men are laughing.

Eventually Kieran steps aside. He shoves the dealer the rest of the way through the door as Luke kicks it shut, and they exchange a high-five.

Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose. His call connects.

“Hello?” You’re back. “Finally! Where are you? I don’t see you.”

“Still me, sweetie.”

“Sylus?” you actually whine. It’s adorable. “Why is it you? Go away.”

“No,” he lilts tunefully, and then he’s coaxing: “I want to help you, kitten. Won’t you let me help you? Tell me, who are you trying to call?”

Frustration spills from you— fake, exaggerated sobs tearing themselves from your throat. “The taxi, Sy,” you whine again. “The stupid taxi, ok? It’s not here. It’s meant to be here.”

“Where’s here?”

“Ha!” you exclaim like you’ve evaded a masterplan, and not a casually asked, run-of-the-mill question. “No. Nice try, but no. You wanna help me?”

“Yeah.”

“Then leave me alone!”

With— he can imagine— some sort of theatrical flourish, you deliver your phone a final, decisive tap. It beckons a fateful silence. Sylus brings his phone in front of his face, unmoved by the moment’s gravitas. There’s a pop-up on the screen. Kitten: requesting video chat.

He smiles to himself. Then accepts. “Hi sweetie.”

Your face is lighting up his screen, your cheeks flushed, your brow furrowed, and your eyes sharp with determination. “Why can I— wait, why can I see you? Get out of my phone, Sy!”

“My, my,” he tuts, but he’s smiling still, “look at you— the illustrious Miss Hunter. It is a relief to know the fate of Linkon rests in such… reliable hands.”

“What d’you mean?” you mumble.

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re drunk!”

He chuckles. “And there’s that infamous wit.”

You bite your lip as you ignore him, still fixated on trying to end the call. It occurs to him that you will eventually succeed; even a broken clock is right twice a day. “Listen to me, sweetie. Are you alone?”

His tone is sober enough for the two of you, and your exasperated eyes meet his. “Yeah.”

“Then be a good girl and send me your location. You remember how to do that, right?” He carefully enunciates each word of his plan. “I’ll come and get you, but I need to know where you are. Don’t go with anyone else. Wait for me, ok?”

You’re nodding away, the odd ‘mmhmm’ escaping your lips, but you’re not at all listening. He catches on after a minute. Trails off— realises your gaze is too vacant, and your focus? Wandering. You’re cradling your phone with both hands. His view is interrupted as your thumb passes over the camera; you’re… stroking the screen?

“You’re so pretty, Sy,” you murmur breathlessly.

His gaze softens. He sighs, “You’re pretty too.”

Then you make a sound he’s never heard before: you squeak, the phone’s audio almost cutting out. A blush is spreading through your cheeks, so much darker than the alcohol’s afterglow, and gods he wishes your face was in his hands. The vision is short-lived, however, because suddenly you’re gone.

There’s a circling view of a dark street, split by streaks of white light, as your phone careens through the air. It strikes concrete a moment later, stuttering to a stop, and Sylus’s grimace deepens with each jarring crack. Your screen has gone black, but he doesn’t think it’s broken. He’s face down, apparently— subjected to an unexciting view of the pavement.

“Oh, shit!” He hears you gasp.

Though your voice is far away, your phone is in your grasp again in no time. You’re turning it over, peering down at him, tracing the outline of his face with worry. “Sorry, Sy. Are you ok?”

“I’ll survive.” He raises an eyebrow. “You know, if you wanted to throw me around, you only needed to ask.”

His voice has dropped, and he loves watching you notice. You stand from your crouch with a smirk, bringing him with you— a dark idea in your eyes. “Wanna go again?”

Before he can protest, he’s looking at the back of your head. Your arm is stretched behind you, gearing up to send him on another short flight.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he interrupts, panicking briefly, but you’d never detect it with all your wits about you, let alone none. He’s brought in front of your face again, and you’re frowning oh so sweetly. “I asked you to do something, remember?”

“You told me to do something.”

So pedantic. “What did I tell you to do, sweetie?”

You don’t say anything. There’s a short huff as you blow hair from your face, and then you’re concentrating. You have that look he likes: the one you get when you’re whittling away at your paperwork like a good little hunter. The same stubborn resolve, too, that makes you lean over it when he or Mephisto are conveniently behind your shoulder.

Your location comes through with a ping and his smile widens. He’s up in a heartbeat, telling you he’s on his way— that you did such a good job— and that you need to stay on the phone with him, ok? He spins his fingers as he passes between Luke and Kieran, a gesture they’ve long grown accustomed to and can easily translate.

I'm leaving. Clean this up.

…

“So then Xavier, like— well, you know Xavier— he was all, ‘I’ll tell you later,’ but he never did, Sy! Off he went, leaving Nero and I to do all the paperwork, and I asked Nero, and Nero was like, ‘ask Xavier yourself’, and I was like, ‘I literally just did!’, and he just shrugged, and it’s… driving me crazy, you know? Because where does he even go? Tara and I have this bet going, she thinks it’s because he—”

Your anecdote comes to a sudden stop.

“What does Tara think, sweetie?”

“Shh shh shh! Wait a second…”

You clutch your phone to your chest like it’ll somehow suppress Sylus’s voice. You’re sat, leaning back against a chain-link fence, but you rise as a black car pulls up in front of you. The windows are tinted. You squint, leaning forward to try to look through them anyway.

“I don’t like this, Sy,” you frown as you plant a hand on your hip. “There’s a car here.”

“Oh?”

“Shh!” you hiss again. It’s not the only car parked on the street, but it is the only one alive. The engine purrs and its lights are glowing like angry embers, refusing to be snuffed out by the dark. You take a step closer, then the engine cuts out. You take a bigger step back.

“What exactly are you afraid of?” Sylus asks, his tone so thick it’s practically bleeding through your phone. “Is a big, bad man trying to get you?”

“Well I don’t know what they look like, Sy. The windows are tinted, and I— AH!” you gasp.  

A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, lifting you from the ground. “Got you, sweetie,” Sylus chuckles in your ear as tell-tale crow feathers settle around you. His breath is hot on your neck and it tickles, turning your panicked shrieks to laughter.

“Sylus!” you squeal as you attempt to wriggle free. You don’t think you’re trying very hard.

The man lowers you back to your feet, but his arms stay around you and he dips his head, resting his chin on the curve of your shoulder. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi.” For a little word, there’s so much fondness.

“Let’s get you home to bed, ok?”

You nod compliantly with a yawn, swaying a little as his arms retract and you’re having to stand on your own again. He chuckles as he steadies you— placing a hand on the top of your head— and you pivot, drawn by the sound. His crimson eyes find yours and they’re dark with something that stirs you, even with your mind swimming and nothing really making sense. You’re not sure of anything at all, except—

No-one has ever looked at you like that before.

And you won’t remember it tomorrow.

“Come on,” he prompts, nudging you towards the car, and you start to walk, though you’re dragging your feet. “I want to hear all of the association’s dirtiest secrets while I still can.”

“Tara has a crush on the new weapon specialist, you know.”

Sylus blinks, then laughs— a tender, comfortable thing. Completely enthralled. “You don’t say,” he beams.

No, you won’t remember it tomorrow.

[httpsdana]

ciaoo!! how about max's girlfriend being the biggest lestappen shipper and makes fun of him and he just plays along with her with all that norris inchindents recently they just purely gossip on their day off. probably like a domestic fluff. cooking and whatnot.

thank you. love your work btw, incredible stuff!!

Rumor Has It~Max Verstappen

・❥・prompt list ・❥・masterlist ・❥・who I write for

y/n leaned over the counter, watching as Max stirs the pasta sauce on the stove, the delicious aroma filling the kitchen. He’s trying to keep his focus on the bubbling sauce, but her relentless teasing has him breaking into a grin every few seconds.

“So… when’s the wedding?” she asked with an exaggeratedly serious tone.

Max side-eyed her, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Who’s getting married?”

“Oh, don’t play clueless” she said, folding her arms as she leaned a bit closer. “You and Charles. Obviously. The F1 power couple the world has been waiting for. Come on, Maxie, we all see the way you two look at each other.”

Max snorts, shaking his head. “You’re insane, you know that?”

y/n gasped with mock outrage. “How dare you dismiss my beautiful ship! I’m practically the captain at this point.”

Max laughs, finally giving up on stirring the sauce to turn and face her, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “Yeah? Well, if I’m marrying Charles, does that mean you’re left alone to dream about me from afar?”

She rolled her eyes, reaching out to poke his chest. “Don’t flatter yourself, Verstappen.”

Max caught her hand, tugging her a bit closer until there’s barely any space between them. “Then stop with the Charles jokes. He’d hate you for it, anyway.”

“Oh, he would not,” she insisted, brushing off his comment. “Charles has a sense of humor. You two are just too shy to admit your feelings. Besides, I’m sure he’s off gossiping about us right now. Maybe with Lando. You know how much Lando loves a good rumor.”

Max raises an eyebrow, stifling a chuckle. “You think Charles and Lando gossip about us?”

“Oh, please,” she said, waving her hand. “I bet they’re talking about all the hot drama from the paddock. Anyways, apparently Lando’s ego has gone from medium to extra-large lately?”

Max sighs, rolling his eyes. “Don’t even get me started on Lando’s ego. Sometimes I think he just loves hearing himself talk. I mean, did you hear him the other day? Talking about how he was ‘definitely the best driver’ and that I got lucky in Brazil for going from 17th place to first?”

y/n let out a giggle, covering her mouth. “I know! I’m like, buddy, calm down. He’s sweet, but there’s a lot of ‘me, me, me’ going on lately.”

Max shakes his head, exasperation all over his face. “I swear, he’s like a puppy. One compliment, and he’s bouncing off the walls. And don’t even get me started on him dating Magui, the influencer who used to be with Joao Felix. The same Magui who cheated on him, like, a million times. Lando swears it’s not serious but come on.”

“Oh, he lives for it,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He’s totally wrapped up in her whole ‘cool, edgy, unattainable’ vibe, but she’s just trying to be relevant. You know she’s doing everything she can to become a WAG.”

Max snickers, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And I thought we were bad at keeping things private.”

“Please, we’re saints in comparison,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in closer. “And speaking of secrets…” she leaned in, voice lowering, “do you know how Alexandra and Charles met?”

Max raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “No, how did he meet her?”

“She was friends with his ex and her sister” y/n said with a sly grin. “Can you believe it?”

Max chuckles, shaking his head. “Guess Charles has a type—and a way of meeting them through friends. Wasn't Charlotte also friends with the girlfriend before her?”

y/n laughed, nodding. “Right? And I swear, Alexandra and Charlotte look exactly the same. It’s like he’s got a specific blueprint for girlfriends or something.”

Max’s arms slid around her waist as he pulled her even closer. “Seems like Charles might have some explaining to do.”

y/n leaned her head against his shoulder, feeling his warmth against her. “it's fun knowing everyone’s secrets. Like how Pierre’s girlfriend, Kika, has that whole beef with Magui. She can’t stand her.”

Max raises an eyebrow, a grin forming. “Why am I not surprised? Didn’t Magui basically try to become a WAG overnight?”

“Exactly. Kika can’t stand it. Magui’s been copying her style, her posts, everything since the two stopped being friends. I swear, she’s just trying to outdo Kika at being the ultimate F1 girlfriend.”

Max shakes his head with a chuckle. “Kika’s a sweetheart; she deserves better than that drama.”

She laughed, tightening her arms around his neck as he hugged her close. “You know, we could give Lando a run for his money in the rumor department.”

Max laughed, kissing her once more. “You know what? I’m okay with that.” He leans down, murmuring in her ear, “As long as I’ve got you.”

She can’t help the smile that spreads across her face as she pulled him in for a proper kiss. This was their little slice of paradise—gossiping, cooking, and just being together with Max, in this lovely, imperfect chaos that’s all her own.

[lovscb97]

synopsis: doing the "suspect is.." trend with jisung, felix, seungmin & jeongin

tags: established relationship, lots of suggestive comments like a Lot, use of nicknames (baby, mama, angel, etc), fluff, playful banter, kys/kms jokes like a Lot of them but i swear they're just jokes im so sorry plz click off if they bother u, etc

add. notes: hello friends :3 i am currently working on nerd!chan pt. 2 so do not fret if anyone is wondering abt that but i didn't want to leave u guys hanging as that's gonna take some time so i thought i'd put out the rest of the maknae line fake texts for this prompt instead to feed u all eheh.. i did do it differently this time n im sorry there r so many kys/kms jokes omgnrkdjd i hope u guys know i have no humor beyond that i am very sorry... anyways Also i wanted to say thank u for 400+ followers as well manhi saranghae... <3

chan's part / rest of hyung line's part

. . .

⥽ … HAN JISUNG: 

⥽ … LEE FELIX: 

⥽ … KIM SEUNGMIN: 

⥽ … YANG JEONGIN: 

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

[taintedcigs]

i slept with someone from corroded coffin and all i got was this stupid song written about me.

ROCKSTAR!FBOY!EDDIE X READER

summary: fooling around with a famous rockstar who's a notorious playboy sounds perfect on paper, until you catch feelings for him. that's why you decide to end things, to not get your feelings get hurt, and its all going perfectly, until eddie releases a song, written all about you.

warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising?, lovey dovey, kinda angst and arguments, drgs & alcohol mention, swearing? idk this is kinda cheesy n cute with a mix of fluff sprinkled honestly!

author's note: the indented parts are texts between steve and reader and thenn reader and eddie. they look confusing as fuck im sorry i just wanted to make them look unique but they look stupid. also yes. i patted myself in the back after i found this title (thank you fob). and yes the lyrics are inspired by i don't care im on a fob kick sue me! and ofc fboy!eddie isn't actually that much of a fboy bc if i can't write lovesick eddie ill die. this is super cheesy so i still struggled a lot but UGH. not proof-read ignore all mistakes

also credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts! (i changed them but still!) and @saradika for the dividers! pls like + rb + interact w me in anyway to support my writings!! ty!!

DINGUS sent you a spotify link. did you listen to this? yeah. its kinda romantic. no. the lyrics are insane. n all about u okay? are u at the party rn? yeah. u comin? soon he’s there too u already knew that, didn’t u?  false accusations r rude, steve.

You click your phone off with a groan, but he was right. You couldn’t stay away from him, and maybe, just maybe, this was your way of running into him, accidentally. 

Because ever since he released the song, the tabloids had gone crazy with it, half of the lyrics screamed you and all of the old headlines pointed at you, the mystery girl Eddie used to be seen with, and you really were growing tired of seeing your name next to “Munson’s new girl.” 

Because you weren’t his new girl, you weren’t his anything. He was a cocky asshole who was good with a guitar and was even better at fucking. And that was something both of you could relate to, the only thing you had in common with him. Or, so you thought. 

But of course, as with everything else, the things between you changed, you started staying over, he started staying over, and the two of you even went on fucking dates, disguising them under ‘we were just hungry, is all.’ 

You tried to keep up the cool girl act, like you could fuck someone and not catch feelings. Every inch of you itched not to care, to act like it was all fine, but it was all fucking bullshit, you cared, so fucking much that your chest ached. The more you got to know him, the more you fell for him, and the more you fell for him, the more you realized there was no fucking way this would work. 

Cocky rockstar who spent more time doing drugs than sleeping, with girls all over him? The imaginary red flag bells rang in your ear, even now. He wasn’t looking for a relationship and you knew that. That’s why you ended it two months ago. Or at least, you started ignoring him two months ago. 

Yet, he had been calling and texting you, wanting to meet up, drunken slurs of nonsense, gibberish voicemails, and yet you never answered, because if you did, you knew you’d be back to pathetically swooning over him.

Until today, just because of that stupid song, like it meant anything. That douchebag probably wrote songs about every girl he fucked. 

You weren’t special. 

Another ding sound from your phone almost startled you, the contact name made you groan even louder. “don’t FUCKING answer.” That didn’t mean shit. It was just something stupid to make you feel better that you couldn’t stay away from him, because you knew, deep down that if you really didn’t want him to contact you, you would’ve deleted his number, and blocked him. You were too chicken shit to do that, and still desperately wanted to hear from him. 

So you settled on that contact name. Like it made a difference, like it changed anything. 

DONT FUCKING ANSWER did you listen to the song?

Don’t fucking answer. The contact name should be enough to convince yourself that.

Too late.

                                                                   no. don’t lie to me, sweetheart.                                                                            why would i lie?

You sink into the couch, a much quieter corner of the party, not even bothering to socialize. Your brows furrow, index finger flying to your lips anxiously, as you chew on it to patiently wait for an answer.

You sip on your drink with a nervous gaze on your screen, barely noticing the way the couch sink further when someone else took a seat next to you. 

“Hi.” The gravelly voice pulls your attention away from the screen, making you set your drink aside as you look up, finding yourself face-to-face with him. 

Shaggy bangs cascade onto his forehead, and with your exaggeration, it looks longer than the last time you saw him. Black jeans cladded with chains. A graphic tee messily thrown over his heavily tatted chest, that you could still imagine right about now—pathetic. He looked just about the same, the deep dimple adorning his soft cheeks had seemed to disappear, wearing a scowl instead, that tiny voice in your head told you that was your doing, that maybe he was just as miserable as you. Maybe your feelings weren’t fully one-sided.  

Shit. 

“Eddie?” Squeaky, and annoying, you were sure that’s how your tone sounded, yet he didn’t seem to comment on it.

“‘m glad you remember my name, sweetheart,” he scoffs sarcastically, leaning further into the plush couch, elbow propped at the side, eyeing you with frustration. 

“W—what the hell are you doing here?” You stutter as if you weren’t expecting to run into him. Full of bullshit. 

“Did ya really think you could ignore me forever, huh?” He tilts his head slightly, almost expectedly, earning an eye roll from you. 

“I wasn’t ignoring yo—”

Eddie tuts quickly, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cuts through the ambient noise of the party, “I thought we said no more lies, huh?” 

With a huff, “Why are you here, Eddie?” you mumble.

“Am I not allowed to party?” He banters, brows slightly raised, making you huff out an exasperated breath, your eyes bore into him, almost to signal him ‘Take this seriously.’

“I wanted to know what you thought.” He shrugs like it was normal to just come running after everything just to know what you thought of the song. 

“The song?” He nods in confirmation.

“Didn’t like it,” you confess, avoiding his gaze, but your brows betray you, lifting ever so slightly.

He tsks, shutting you off quickly, “You see that little quirk your brow did? That only happens when you lie, you can’t help it. You do that when I ask you if you ate the last pizza slice, or when I ask if you watched the next episode of the show we were supposed to watch together, or when you—” 

“Fine, fine! I liked it,” you groan, interrupting him and suddenly standing up from the comfort of the couch, being so face-to-face with him immediately making your nerves bubble.

“Just liked?” He tilts his head slightly, a smirk curving on his lips. 

A deep sigh of breath, “what do you want, Munson?”

He stands up with you, making you back away from him with a heavy footstep, the entire party was too loud and crowded, yet, in this stupid corner, it was just the two of you. “For you to admit that you loooved the song, and how much you missed me,” he sing-songs, taking a step closer to you, musky smell invading your senses, making you take a deep breath.

Both of you stand near the wall, and it should be awkward, it should be enough to make you leave, but all it does is draw you closer to him.

“You’re annoying.” 

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I wasn’t avoiding—” He tuts, with his stupid index finger up, rejecting your lie.

“I—I don’t know what you expected.” You shrug, so nonchalantly that his gaze narrows, chest aching with the implications of your words.

“We both knew this wouldn’t last forever, didn’t we?” You chew the inside of your lip to stop those tears that had been begging to flow ever since you listened to the song, wiping off that smirk on Eddie’s lips. 

“Would’ve been nice if I got a reminder, and not have been just fully ghosted, huh?” The brunette grumbles with a downturn of his lips, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Oh, don’t act all high and mighty, isn’t that what you do all the fucking time?” you snap, gaze narrowed, and arms crossed against your chest. 

“Fuck girls and then leave them? Did it crush your ego this fucking much that I did before you could?” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” He retaliates. 

“It means I was smart enough to pull myself away from your bullshit,” you rasp, disdain written all over your face.The room seems to shrink as the distance between you decreases. 

Another step closer to you, and you didn’t realize your back had hit the wall now. “My bullshit? God, that’s fucking rich, if I seem to recall correctly sweetheart, you were in this as much as I fucking was!”

“Oh, was I?” You bark out a chuckle, cruel, mocking, “I don’t remember being okay with you fucking half the city.” Realization of how bitter and jealous that sounds, dawns on you much later than the words leave your lips, and thankfully, Eddie’s too fucking immersed to realize the double meaning of your words. 

“Are you fucking kidding? No strings attached! Non-exclusive! That’s what you fuckin’ signed up for!” His voice echoes, mirroring his frustration, and you open your mouth.

But he doesn’t let you speak further, cutting you off sharply. “Is this all because of that new guy you’re seein’?” 

“What? What guy?” 

“The one who was all over you earlier,” he bites out, jaw clenched, and you can almost taste his bitterness in the air.  

“The same one you fucked at Jeff’s party.”

“Are you stalking me, Munson?” 

“Did you just want an excuse to end things? Are the two of you serious or somethin’?” His voice wavered between anger and desperation, gaze pathetically searching for yours, to gauge your reaction.

You scoff. Did he really think you’d end things because of a stupid fling you had which in the first place occurred just so you could forget him? He was so goddamn clueless it drove you insane. 

But what you didn’t realize was that you were just as clueless, if not more, because why would he write a song all about you, if this was just about sex? Because who would get so jealous of someone they didn’t care about? 

Say my name and his in the same breath.

I dare you to say they taste the same. 

The lyrics from his stupid song swirled your thoughts, yet you were still too stupid to see it, weren’t you?

Another step closer to you, a dangerous game the two of you liked to play. He smelled alluring, a fucked up mix of nicotine, his musky cologne, and that damn leather jacket. “Do you really think, he could compare to me, sweetheart?” 

Say my name and his in the same breath.

“Tell me he’s fucking better, and he’s actually what you want, and I’ll fucking leave, I’ll bury all the other songs I wrote, tell me, and I’ll be out of your hair forever.”

I dare you to say they taste the same. 

And just like that, all the defenses you put up, all the times you ignored him, they are cracked, disappearing into thin air. You hate it, you hate that he has this effect on you, you can feel your mind getting hazier, eyes blinking rapidly to process what the fuck is going on, and his face is mere inches away from yours. You knew their names didn’t taste the same. And you knew he could never ever compare to Eddie.

“Tell me,” he encourages, dares you to. You fail to notice how much emotion his gaze carries, how the corners of his lips twitch, just at the thought of you finally admitting you don’t want him. His stomach turns at the thought, this is his last chance, he knows that, and he can’t fucking lose you. He can’t. 

And you don’t know any of that, but you knew, know that no one else could compare to him. And you hate yourself for thinking that, you hate yourself for falling for him, the world stops rotating on its axis when he’s in your peripheral vision, and it’s fucking disgusting. Pathetic. Stupid. Because you know the two of you have no chance. But here you are. 

“H—he is b—” Of course, your brow quirks up almost immediately, betraying you quicker than you can even attempt to lie. 

That dawning smirk appears on his lips again, it’s mocking, and just as much smug. You want to wipe it off of his stupidly pretty face. “Tell me,” he dares you, again. This time much cockier and confident, and you suddenly realize how small you feel under him.

“He isn’t,” your meek voice is barely audible.

And you don’t register the shaky breath he draws when the words leave your lips, giving him the confirmation he needs. You wanted him, he had no fucking clue why you ghosted him, yet you still wanted him. Just as much as he wanted you. 

Both of his hands were placed on the wall now, towering over you, making your breath get caught up in your throat. “Speak up.”

“No, fuck! You know he’s not, you know he could never fucking compare to you, you fucking know tha—” He shuts you up with a rough kiss, lips pressed against yours messily, letting the petty comments die down your throat. Because this is all he wanted, needed to hear anyway. 

“Up,” he grunts into the kiss, tapping your thighs, hoisting you up from your waist to help you wrap your legs around him, tight, he wants you at his mercy, locked to him. 

You wrap your legs around him, barely, the melty sensation in your knees making you so shaky that he barks out a laugh into your lips, holding you close, firm, the butterflies in your stomach traveling all across your body.

He lifts you up as if you are weightless, arms wrapped around you strongly as he carries you to the nearest empty bedroom, impressively without hitting your back anywhere, so roughly that your core throbs at the feeling of his arms around you.

“Baby,” he mutters as he lowers you down on the bed swiftly, smooth, gaze darkened and pupils blown wide, all the pent up desire waiting to explode. 

“Eddie,” you beg, shaky voice sounding purely angelic to his ears once he got rid of his shirt, shrugging it off with a huff, his fingertips grazing against your top, feeling your hardened nipples, causing gasps out of you, he’s quick to pull it over your head while you run your fingers up the grooves of his stomach, the tip of your fingertips almost burns everywhere you touch. 

He groans at the sight of your bare breasts, “missed thi-you,” he corrects himself, because that’s all he wanted anyways, you. 

He nips at your nipples, tongue good at giving attention to both of them, all wet and warm, making you squirm under his touch, you’re quick to get rid of everything else, leaving you in your panties, making him grunt. 

The pad of his thumb rubs against your left nipple, leaving goosebumps in its wake, while his other hand travels down your chest, then your stomach, finally drawing circles when it stops between your thighs, ghosting over your panties before he tugs them down your legs, spreading them apart with a slight hum, pupils blown so wide that you can’t admire those chocolate hues anymore. 

He visually drinks in that sight of you, laid down on the couch, eyes squeezed shut, back arched, and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re completely at his mercy and his chest aches with need. “So pretty like this f’me,” he coos into your chest, pushing his middle finger inside of you. Making you feel so good that you can’t stop the gasps coming out of your lips.   

Pleasure shivers through everywhere he sucks and touches, his finger eases into you when he adds another one, a moan escaping you quickly. “Need to be in here, sweetheart, d’ya have any idea how much I missed this?” 

You don’t. You don’t know about the sleepless nights, the drunken ones, the drug-induced ones in an attempt to recreate the high you gave him. It’s fucked up, it’s insanely toxic. Yet, he can’t get enough of you. 

His gaze upon you is dangerous, maybe it’s because he had missed you so goddamn much, or maybe because he didn’t know where this would lead, but it felt fucking sentimental, different somehow, and he could feel you, everywhere on his skin.

Your hips start rocking up against him when the pad of his thumb flicks over your clit, making you arch your back, whines, mumbles leaving your lips. And all he can muster is, “so goddamn beautiful, look at you whining for me.”

You can feel his bulge rub against your thigh every now and then, it’s distracting, almost agonizing. You desperately need it inside of you, you had missed him, missed his touch, missed the feeling of him filling you to the brim, you missed seeing his face contort in pleasure when he was inside of you, you wanted him to never forget you again. 

That’s why you feel so numb, can barely speak, and of course, Eddie notices, how unusually quiet you are, and he wants to make this unforgettable, just so you have another reason to come back to him. Just so you don’t leave him, just so you stay forever. 

“Gone too quiet on me, honey, tell me what you need,” he coos down at you, thumb still caressing your pussy, and all you can fucking do is chew down on your bottom lips, eyeing his bulge that was begging to get out. And he barks out a goddamn chuckle, “P—please, Eddie.” Pathetically leaves your lips. 

And normally he would make you beg, tease further, but he reaches to tug down his pants quickly, because fuck, he had missed you. And he can’t bear the thought of not being inside of you any longer. 

Thinking is not your strongest suit right now either, your brain is mushy, all the nights and days spent thinking about him, about this explodes into your body. Your pussy aches when you finally see his cock again, a sound of need leaving your lips as you eye his length, so big that pleasure ripples through you, especially when you see his gushy tip, glistening with pre-cum. 

You want every fucking inch inside of you, and Eddie’s more than ready to oblige, “What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

“Need you, Eddie,” you moan, all fucked out, his fingers slip in and out of you still, but it isn’t enough for him. He needs more, he craves your validation like he never has before. 

“God, you’re soakin’ my fingers, princess,” he grunts, wedging himself between your thighs, weeping cock drips onto your inner thighs, making you moan breathlessly. “Tell me exactly what you fuckin’ want, honey.”

“Eddie.” His name sounds like silk, even when it’s so lewd, Eddie decides, and it makes him let out an impatient huff. “P—please. Need you to fuck me.” It’s so goddamn desperate that you can feel heat rise to your cheeks, but it’s everything to him.

“Want you to fuck me like you mean it.”

“Oh, that’s easy, sweetheart,” he grunts, lining his cock through your entrance, coating himself in your slick, enjoying your mewls before he doesn’t hesitate to push his cock inside of you, inch by inch, relishing the way you cry out for him. 

Greedily, you rock your hips into him, making him let out a frustrated groan. “Have no fuckin’ idea how much I missed this greedy cunt, sweetheart, shit.” He thrusts in a few more inches, and breathless moans and babbles of his name fill the air.

“Suckin’ me right in, baby, fuck, you’re so pretty like this, mhmm.” His cock moves inside of you, and your hands are wrapped around his back, desperately clawing at it, the fullness making you want more, “you like that, baby, like bein’ full of me?” A heavy sound leaves his lips, pathetic and you pulse around him. 

“S’so good Eddie, and s’big,” you barely manage to let out, and he watches you with that burning amber gaze, thrusting all the way in without hesitation. Those plushy lips that hang open, that filthy mouth, the prettiest fucking features—you, were going to be the death of him. 

Maybe it’s because you had missed him, or maybe because you hadn’t experienced this in a long time, or fuck, maybe, just maybe that the song had created a new type of need between the two of you. Using sex as a sort of connection that the both of you desperately needed. But, shit, was it this different this time. 

He felt different—his lips, touch, skin as it slapped against yours, it was different. 

Full. You feel so fucking full that your back involuntarily arches against him, fingers clenching desperately, your screams and cries filling the room the more he plunges inside of you, deeper, hungry, and just as greedy as you. 

“Yeah, better than that asshole?” It rolls off his lips so bitter and jealous that you can barely register it. Not being used to this possessive side of him, and it’s glorious, especially when he’s pounding his frustrations and insecurities into you. 

“Mhmm, so much better.” You clawed at his back, every thrust of his hip making you feel higher and higher, mind filled with nothing but him. 

“So pretty like this when you say my name, sweetheart… so goddamn beautiful, and all mine, yea?” He wants a confirmation, and wants to hear you say it, his head ducking between your breasts again to kiss, taste, suckle them. Make sure he never forgets it. 

“Wanna hear you say it.” He hums, the vibrations reverberating through your chest straight into your core, cock plowed so deep inside of you that you can barely speak through your cries, hitting that sweet spot that every other asshole misses. 

You’re too scared to give him what he wants. But you feel him, everywhere, and you still want more, of course, you’re his. That’s all you fucking wanted anyway. Plushy lips shake as you gaze up at him, his amber hues are so sticky-sweet that you still struggle to process it, words come out in a ramble “All yours, Eddie.”

His mouth crashes onto yours roughly, desire coursing through both of your bodies, almost interconnected. “Shit, fuckin’ hell sweetheart, ‘m not gonna last long.” His thrusts are getting sloppier, yet you feel the ravaging desire coursing through your veins. 

“So perfect,” he murmurs, the kiss he lays on your lips just as relentless, not letting you breathe or think for a goddamn second, you’re so goddamn close.

And you wonder, how the fuck did you even go two months without this? Without him?

“Eddie!” You cry out once you feel the pad of his thumb rubbing against your clit, eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm washes over you. Pure bliss overtakes you while you claw at his back, his body tenses, and cock flexes as he cums inside of you, groans and curses left in your hair. 

Minutes pass of you lying next to each other, breathless, processing everything that just transpired. And you should feel guilty, embarrassed, and should run to the hills for doing this with him again. 

But you’re obsessed, addicted. He’s like an excitement that you’re sure you’ve never felt before, running through your veins, like a fucking drug. 

Both of you get dressed in silence, the party booming outside is quick to bring the two of you back to reality, and out of the trance that he pulled you in. 

He breaks your bewilderment with a slight “Fuck.” Standing on the opposite side of the bed before he fully turns to you. “This wasn’t—I was supposed to talk to you.” He mutters, fingertips anxiously running through his tousled hair.

Caught off guard and awfully curious, you mumble, “About what?”

“The song…”

“I told you I liked it.”

His brow furrows deeper, and he shakes his head in frustration. “No, that’s not it—uh, did you not listen to the lyrics?”

“I did.”

“And?”

Your face searches his for some clarity, you take a step closer to him, the distance between the two of you was still awfully much according to him. “What are you asking of me, Eddie? Did you really think one song would just solve everything?”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“W—what am I supposed to get Eddie? You wanna have your cake and eat it too! And I just can’t fucking do that, not anymore.”

“That’s—that’s not it!” His voice wavers, with urgency, and desperation in his tone. He takes a step forward, attempting to bridge the emotional gap, feeling so fucking frustrated that he wants to rip his hair out.

“Then fucking explain it to me!” You plead. 

“You want an explanation, fine! Fucking fine!” His frustration echoed through the room, pacing back and forth, making you take a deep breath. 

Was he… actually gonna do this? 

“You wanna know what the fuck I’ve been doing ever since you ghosted me?” He ran a hand through his hair, scared, gaze all mellow and vulnerable in a way you have never seen before. It makes your shoulders slump when you nod. 

“I go to those stupid Hollywood parties, meet asshole rockstars—the most interesting shit, yet somehow someway the thought of you will pop up in my mind, uncalled for, might I add, and then I can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop thinking about you the whole fucking day.” Your eyes widen, trying to absorb his revelation, yet he won’t stop rambling and you feel your chest tighten with each word, fuck, he’s finally doing it.

“I—I never—shit! I never thought myself capable of feeling things like this, but fuck, you came along, with that goddamn smile, throwing a manicured middle finger right in my face, a—and just put up with my bullshit.” His voice softened, and he couldn’t help but trace the contours of your face, to desperately know if you were on the same boat, and you look at him with such glistened eyes that his heart leaps to his stomach. 

“My world flipped upside down, and you have proven me, so goddamn wrong that I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore!” The tears almost welled in your eyes, because, fuck, there was no way this was real.  

You reached out instinctively, the corner of your mouth twitching uncontrollably. “E—Eddie, please… please stop saying things you don’t fucking mean.” 

“Things I don’t mean?” He gives you a breathy chuckle, ironic, and nowhere near funny. His eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. “Do you think I like feeling whatever the hell this is? I fucking don’t, you have me acting like someone I’m so unfamiliar with, to the point where it scares me. All I can think about is you, you, you, because you occupy every single space of my mind.” Your eyes soften, the room seemingly pulsing with his emotions, making you feel hot everywhere on your body. 

He felt the same way.

Eddie felt the same way. 

“B—but fuck I’m scared, honey, I’m so goddamn scared,” He admits, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through the tension before he’s at your side, calloused hands grabbing you by the shoulder, so softly that you melt into him.

“Because what if—what if all of this comes crashing down one day?” His voice trembles, gaze avoiding yours, he was scared, so goddamn scared of losing you. Forever. He doesn’t want that, he couldn’t afford that. 

“Just two months away from you fucking sucked. I didn’t—I don’t wanna feel these things, but you make it so hard not to.”  His forehead rests against yours, making you suck in a deep breath, it’s all so fucking sentimental, and all you wanna do this kiss him, tell him you feel the exact same way. Tell him about your fears. 

“And now I can’t fucking stop, fuck,” He confesses, admission punctuated by a frustrated sigh. 

“I wrote you a song,” he gently caresses your cheek, and you’re so scared to look up at him, to meet his tender gaze, because you know you can’t hold yourself back. 

“I came over to this party in a frenzy when I found out you’d be here,” he continued, his fingers tracing a delicate pattern along your jawline. “I—I just I haven’t even been able to touch another girl.” Your eyes snap open, you’re sure they’re almost heart-shaped now, with the adoration you look at him.

“And, do you actually fucking think I'd write songs for just anyone—” His question lingers in the air before you shut him up with a kiss, rough, sweet, and making Eddie feel dizzy all over, his head struggles to comprehend it all, breathless but he manages to react just in time.

The booming music becoming a mere background noise when he had you, mind swirling with all the possibilities and mouth begging to never stop tasting you. He wants to let you completely engulf him, feel you everywhere.

Everything he wanted and more.

He fucking hates himself for doing this, but he pulls away, mesmerized, eyes so wide that you can’t believe this is Eddie, he’s all flustered, salmon pink. And it makes a wider grin sit on your lips. “So… you—uh, what does this mean?”

You smile at him, lips widely stretching into a grin, as you shrug. “It means I feel the same, Eddie.” you admit, tone a tender reassurance. “That’s why I tried to shut you out… to try to move on, because I was scared—fuck, but I feel the same way.”

“So, does that mean we're dating now?”

“We can take things slow, figure everything out?” you mutter with a shy gaze, lips itching to twitch into a smile, again. “But I—uh—I like you, I really, really like you.”

“Gone soft on me already, sweetheart?” he mumbles with a stupid grin, making you elbow him softly, with an exaggerated playful huff. 

He’s quick to flinch, rubbing his arm as if you even delivered a powerful blow. “Ow—what the hell is wrong with you?”

“You think I’m going soft? You’re the one who wrote his feelings as an exaggerated love song!” 

He leans further slightly, his grin widening when you gave him those adorable eyes, finding you both equally amusing and endearing. “Oh… just you wait.”

You arched a brow, curiosity piqued, “What the hell does that mean?”

“The album is coming out soon, sweetheart. If you think this was an exaggeration, you should hear the whole fucking thing.”

That glint re-appears in your eyes just as quickly, gaze softening as you melt into his embrace.

“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.” You tease, scrunching your nose at him, so adorably that he leans down and presses a gentle kiss onto your hair.

He's an idiot, a total complete fucking idiot, but he's all yours.

[haoboutyou]

strong and independent (?!) | choi seungcheol

fluff, established r/s | 821 words | like one swear word

an: i fell sick again :/

divider credit

 “–and then he freaked out! It wasn’t even that bad!”

You giggle, the live feed of your best friend frantically waving her arms around as she dramatically retells a story enlarged on your laptop screen. The dying afternoon sun peeks from above your screen, golden hour flooding your apartment. You and Yerim have been on call for the majority of the afternoon, your sweet best friend’s voice accompanying you as you sit on the floor, trying to assemble a new Ikea dresser. The parts are scattered methodically as you slowly work your way through each drawer, Yerim’s voice spilling into your living room like a juicy podcast.

“Yeah? Then what did you do next?”

“Why do you always assume I did something?”

You send her a Look, one that tells her that you know her well enough to know she definitely did something. The camera does a good job of conveying your intentions because she sighs, and you throw your head back in laughter as she reluctantly jumps into an explanation.

“...So obviously, I have to–”

“I’m done!” You yell out, not caring that you’ve interrupted Yerim mid-explanation. She leans closer to the camera for a better look at the product of 3 hours of hard work, her face completely covering your screen. You pick up the laptop, angling it so that she can take a better look at it.

“Woah, Y/nnie! That looks pretty good!” If the camera is facing you again, maybe she can see how your shoulders have risen higher than Mount Everest. “That’s better than anything I’ve ever built.”

You both cringe, remembering the time Yerim tried to fix a new chair. She ended up fixing it upside down (how?!), resorting to calling you at 2am, crying for you to come over and fix it. Safe to say, she’s never touched another assembling project again.

Her lips jut out into a pout towards you when you place your laptop back on the coffee table. “How are so good with tools anyway?”

You just shrug your shoulders. “Maybe I’m just a strong, independent young woman who doesn’t need no man.”

“Yeah right, no man,” Yerim scoffs, making little quotations out of her perfectly manicured fingers. 

You throw her a questioning look as you get to clearing your surroundings while Yerim continues her story. Loose screws here, cardboard boxes strewn there– you’ve certainly created a mess in the living room, sitting right in the eye of the hurricane of it all. 

The front door swings open, signalling Seungcheol’s arrival. Your boyfriend walks in, takeout in hand as he smoothly removes his shoes and coat by the entrance.

“I’m home~”

“In here!” You holler back.

Shuffling towards your voice, he walks into the mess that is currently in your living room. His little figure appears in frame, prompting Yerim to wave at him.

“Hey, Seungcheol!”

“Yeri! Long time no see!” He places his stuff on the table and stoops to kiss the top of your head. “Hi, baby! Whatchu up to?”

“Cheollie~” You melt into his touch, leaning back against his legs. Your head tilts up as you bat your pretty lashes at him, arms spread out to highlight the new dresser. “Look what I did today!”

“You fixed it yourself?” You nod. He eyes the dresser, hand on his chin as he seemingly inspects it from all angles before giving a nod of approval. “Couldn’t have done it better myself!”

You grin at his compliment. Just as quickly, though, your lips curve into a frown.

“It’s a little too heavy though; I can’t carry it into the bedroom.”

“I can do that, baby. You’ve already done all the hard parts.” He pushes his t-shirt sleeves up, patting his arm as he flexes the muscles there. “I’ll do all the heavy lifting, okay?”

“Okay!” He makes a show of lifting the dresser, puffing his chest a little and letting his muscles ripple as he settles on a comfortable grip. “Bedroom right?” You hum in confirmation, and then he’s off to transport the piece of furniture to its rightful place.

On-screen, Yerim’s jaw dropped. She had literally just watched you single-handedly manhandle the dresser to its side and back up again, fully completed, mind you, just to place anti-slip stickers on its legs. Too heavy? Too heavy?!

“Don’t need no man, my ass,” she mutters loud enough for you to hear.

Your head whips towards her direction. “What was that?” Ugh, even your voice has turned sickeningly sweet at the sight of your boyfriend.

“Nothing~”

“Baby! Where do you want this?” Seungcheol’s voice rings out from down the hall. Yerim takes it as her cue to end the video call. 

“I’m gonna go now. Brunch on Sunday?”

“Brunch on Sunday,” You affirm. Yerim shoots you a thumbs-up before ending the call without so much as a goodbye. Strong independent young woman who doesn’t need to man, she scoffs. Yeah, right.

[inosukijiro]

𝗚𝗜𝗬𝗨𝗨 𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗖𝗥𝗢𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗧

𝙨𝙮𝙣. ━ giyuu decides its time to tell you how he feels.

━ 𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. this is part two. or not, it really doesn’t matter if you read the first part. loved this idea bc i love crochet. currently making a giyuu amigurumi doll atm, so yay me ig

━ 𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. im so sorry for being gone for almost two months. i was burnt out. but i have lots of prompts / plot ideas written down and just have to finish them. also also!! season 4 was crazy, i loved every minute of it but that ending – im so not ready for the final arc. anyways, thank you for the support as usual, luv u besties

━ 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨. fluff. use of swear words (not a lot, but they are there). giyuu-centric. modern reader in kny. mentions of crochet and amigurumi. gender-neutral reader. also very poor dialogue probably, i avoid talking irl so yk. 1.9k words.

first part (optional); giyuu has a crush

Giyuu is about to have a stroke. He’s alone in his room late at night. He should be sleeping, but he can't imagine doing so. The moon light is coming through his window and all he can do is stare at the crochet hook in his hand as his fingers remain still. He is hunched, hovering over a ball of yarn in his lap. He can't shake the feeling of inadequacy that heavily weighed on him because he really has no idea what he’s doing.

You had this habit of making him gifts. Cute little amigurumi things and it had become a habit of his waiting when you’ll show up with one just for him. They’re almost always an animal or some sea creature, maybe even a small plant that he has sitting on display in his room somewhere. They are always so adorable and tiny, always fitting in the palm of his hand. It's almost like clockwork at this point, and Giyuu is always so flattered to receive them.

He remembers the little tiny baby sea turtle you have made for him. Its flippers rested against the palms of his cupped hands; its eyes and lids sewed on so perfectly along with the rest of it. It’s so intricate, he almost thought it was real. He remembers bringing it up to his face, staring at it in its tiny face, because for some reason this time he really didn’t know how to act.

He remembers you giggling, quickly explaining that you really didn’t know what to make him this time – lies, you have so many patterns. You just care too much about his opinion and his likes. Honestly, you could make him anything you wanted and he would be happy.

❛ And then I thought, ‘well you are the Water Pillar after all’. And I thought the sea turtle was kinda cute too, so I wanted to make it for you. Now you have a little friend to keep you company on your mission! ❜

Now here he was, with little idea of what he was doing. A frustrated sigh left his lips. He began working the yarn along with the hook – all his movement completely hesitant and fumbling. It would be a lie to say that he had never been skillful with his hands; he is a swordsman after all. However, it was clear that he wasn’t as skillful as you regarding this, and it makes sense. He had never picked up any knitting or crochet hooks until tonight at this ungodly hour.

Sure, he could have just crafted a wooden figurine. It is something he vaguely knows how to do, and seems like a more appealing thought now, plus, he knows that you would love it either way. But all he wanted to do was something special. He wanted to convey his feelings to you through what you love doing the most and give you something that he knows you would like. And for about a moment he wonders if this is a good idea. Then decides that he doesn’t care anymore. This is going to make or break him. He procrastinated this long enough.

Though hours passed and Giyuu is shocked to consider it done. He hoped it was. He glances over at his window and the sun is barely over the horizon. And as much as Giyuu loves you, he can't do this again. No, that is also a lie. He would if you asked. But he couldn’t help but feel disgruntled. He didn’t even know what he made. It is some type of plushie. It has a big body with some stubby legs. Its arms are almost the length of it too, if not longer, making them seem like large floppy paws. Its head; he is unsure if it's too big as it’s the same size as the body, but it’s a bit too late now to do anything about it. He made small ears on the top, and added some type of embroidery to make the eyes – as no buttons seemed to look right to him. There was no nose or mouth either, because Giyuu couldn’t figure out how to add them without making it look worse than it already does.

He frowned at the finished product, before hanging his head. It was done, yes. But to him, he knows that he could have done a much better job. And the pang of disappointment didn’t help. Because surely you deserve something better than this crude attempt at a gift.

However, for some reason Giyuu was oddly excited. Maybe it was the ice cold water he almost drowned himself awake to. But he really didn’t pay it any mind. Maybe he just didn’t care anymore. Maybe he just wanted to get it over with. He was afraid, so very afraid because this was the first time he was outwardly seeking your validation. But he was also anticipating the interaction. Because you were so nice. And he shouldn’t be afraid.

So here he was now, standing in front of you. And suddenly, he can't remember why he was so afraid in the first place. You looked so delightfully happy just like he had hoped. He watched as you took the plush from his hand, your fingers just barely brushing against his. And he felt his palms get clammy again. You were so delicate with it, and honestly, if you had asked Giyuu, perhaps you were a bit too delicate. He didn’t think that it deserved such care. He watched as you brushed your thumb over the soft yarn. Your eyes staring intently at it, and Giyuu couldn’t place the look you were giving.

“Giyuu, it’s adorable!” Your eyes sparked just a little bit when you looked back up at him. The plush is pressed against your chest right now. So softly, almost protectively and Giyuu actually can't believe it. Truly, he is in disbelief. You actually liked it? You really must’ve, because you’re going on about the plush; gushing over it and completely unfazed by any of its imperfections. You asked how he made it and when he had the time. It was nice, until you asked him why. And he got all nervous again.

Well… He responds. “You make me such nice things all the time. And I wanted to make you something as well. To show my appreciation.”

Oh! You are a little taken aback by that as a light blush starts to burn on your cheeks. You were definitely feeling the appreciation. You just never really anticipated Giyuu to make you something. Not because you thought he was incapable, or anything like that. You just… liked making things, and if that happened to be for Giyuu more than others you weren’t going to deny it. It made you happy to do so. And you never really expected anything in return. But for him to make you something, the gesture kind of made you feel special. It was so sweet!

“Of course, I’m glad you like it. You… mean a lot to me you know. Um…” He stops because he's a bit flush. He wants to confess so badly and he doesn’t understand; why is it so hard. Just say it. It's like you are waiting for him to – and you are – but you are so completely and utterly patient with him that sometimes he wished you weren’t. “Ngh, don’t look at me like that.”

You giggle softly. You can’t help it. Why is he so cute? “I’m sorry,” You say sincerely, still hugging the plush to your chest. “Please continue.”

His heart is beating out of his rib cage. He feels like he is going to die. He has never expressed his feelings so openly before and as much as he wants to say that he is uncomfortable, he's only half way there and he only needs to get the words out. He's been afraid of rejection for so long that, even deep down knowing the possibility of you loving him exists, he can’t help but worry about it. The words are on his tongue and at some point, he has to come out and say it.

“I… I love you.” Finally. “I’ve loved you for a while now. I just didn’t know how to tell you. You don’t have to say or do anything, I just… I just wanted you to know.”

“You love me?” You had a big, stupid smile on your face, which made the question you had asked seem hopeful to him. If you had been home, you might have thought he was pulling a joke on you, not that he would know to assume that. And you, yourself are having a good time telling the small voice in the back of your head to fuck off because – yes, Giyuu Tomioka just confessed his love for you and you were not going to let the universe take it back.

He nodded, silent. The smallest, timid, smile pulled at his lips as he waited for you to continue. “Giyuu, I love you too. Actually, I..” you stopped before you started tripping over your words and let out a deep breath. Your grasp on the plush tightened, clutching it closer to your body in an attempt to ground yourself. “I… may have been in love with you for a while, too.”

He stares at you for a moment, another dumb look on his face. It's like the gears are turning in his mind. That yes, just like you had, are realizing this is all actually happening. And if he promptly pulls you into the softest, brain melting kiss you've ever had – that's between the two of you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤᘡ ۫ 𖨂 𓈒 🦑 ۟ ៹ 𓂂

Of course, now it’s later and Giyuu is watching you show off the plush to the rest of the Hashira. You had grabbed his hand in a rush, so excited and happy. He let you tug him along, squeezing his hand so tight; never minding the clamminess. He watched as you shoved the crochet piece in Rengokus face, telling him with pride that Giyuu was the one that made it for you. ‘I see that,’ he says and lets out one of those joyous laughs, almost amused.

You tug him along, going from Hashira to Hashira. Giyuu vividly remembers you shouting at Shinazugawa from across the training grounds about ‘Look at what Giyuu made me! Suck it you fuck face’ before running off and taking him with you again. He remembers in the background the Wind Pillar shouting, something about how it was ‘Ugly as fuck’ and a few other things but Giyuu ignored it.

Others recognized the effort Giyuu put into it, much like Rengoku. He gets a ‘That's kinda flashy’ from Tengen, and surprisingly Shinobu didn’t really poke at him too much, but maybe that was because you were there. Mitsuri squeals about it. She thinks it���s the cutest thing she's ever seen, and Giyuu makes sure not to look at Obanai at all. Otherwise, the man might force Giyuu to teach him. Or force himself in between you and him to teach him, and Giyuu doesn’t know if he can handle that.

The afternoon passed by after that and you both ended up back at his estate, just like always. This time, you were much closer to him than usual, not that Giyuu minded. He watched from over your shoulder as you continued your own little crochet project. He had half a mind to join you, but instead opted to enjoy just being with you; resting his head near yours and wrapping his arms around your waist. Though, somewhere close by the little turtle and the plush were laying together where you had placed them. It was almost like they were watching you, like they were proud of him.

Thank you once again for reading!! ໒꒰ྀི ˃ ∩∩ ˂ ꒱ྀིა

[g1rlken]

I'm so excited you're taking requests for Rupert Campbell-Black!!

Do you think you could maybe fo #15 from your prompt list about him showing up for the reader bc they don't have anyone else?

Idk if just love that trope and I think it works with him.

If you don't feel inspired by that one no worries!

Someone in the crowd

prompt15 Rupert Campbell Black x fem!reader

word count: 5.3k+

warnings: parental neglect, mild swearing, hurt comfort, FLUFF

AN: Ahhhhhhh ANON I love you this is my fav prompt I was initially planning on the same one anyways thanks for platform ing my Rupert obsession you’re the first one

The chronicles of the country side for a veterinary sciences PhD student included more than just animals, main reason she selected a university so far from the hustle and bustle of the city. Peculiar animals in their natural state, she came across more than just peculiar animals.

Trespassing loses its meaning for the engrossed researcher, she didn’t realise when she passed the forest to a private estate land whilst following the slow worm. The most advanced high end camera, that Rupert had only seen with those media folks and proper film production. However he assumed the girl in a camouflage jungle vest to be an intern in a tabloid firm, trying to prove herself to be ever so efficient to her superiors by sneaking in to his property for a few pictures. Too naive to realise he could sue her for all her fortune perhaps. Rather an amateur at her job perhaps, she was there to snap him yet her attention didn’t avert to him on his horse before he approached her himself, “Young lady” he cleared his throat sternly “You do realise you’re trespassing here?”

“Oh?” She looked out of her camera lens to the voice that called out her and in an instant she lost sight of the slow worm she was following. “Fuck!”

“And if you don’t delete the pictures and get off of this land right this second I will be suing you for all the jobs you don’t already have.” Rupert threatened, he truly misliked this breach of his privacy to no end. But because the girl seemed unskilled and gullible to her supposedly first job he felt he could let her get off easily.

“I’m not deleting any pictures I barely got two” she said with a heavy sigh, her eyes frantically searching for her subject within the grass again not too bothered by his threat. “And I don’t have any job as it is”

“Oh” he amused, getting off of the saddle of his horse to level with her, “are you one of those fans then? How many times do I have to tell you people-“

“What?” Her attention broke from her subjected reptile to the man this time, “a fan? I don’t even know you…”

“Oh right” he scoffed placing his hands by his hips, “surely you don’t.”

“I truly don’t. I was following my subject for today from the forest lands and I ended up here it was an honest mistake” she explained herself as she opened her camera to show him the pictures, they were all reptiles and not…him.

“You were following a snake?” He asked rather confused and somewhat intrigued as to what would bring her to this.

“It’s not a snake, it’s a is a legless lizard. Anguis Fragilis” she corrected the man, ever so casually as if it were the most common of knowledges to attain.

The man just burst into laughter letting go of the horse chain to contain it, his hand on his chest he could find the joke in the name and the scenario extremely comical. “You have got to be kidding me!”

Y/n felt a bit embarrassed as if she’d said the wrong name so she went through it in her head again and she wasn’t, wrong. It was perhaps like college again, info dumping on the wrong set of people who poke fun at peculiar passions. But the man seemed to be too old to be like those immature college kids who mock others so she was left rather confused “what is so funny?” She asked hesitantly, “it’s rather rare and native to this area we don’t come across them in the city…” she trailed off trying to fill in his boastful laughter with something to feel less uncomfortable.

“Oh is it now?” Rupert asked as his laughter subsided and he realised the girl was an enthusiast in a true fashion. He just found the name of the godforsaken reptile to have a double meaning to it, he thought she made it up but when she got awkward and explained further he realised she wasn’t joking. “My apologies, are you new here?”

“Yes Ive actually moved here for research, I’m studying veterinary sciences for PhD… ” she said still feeling a bit self conscious after he’d laughed like that.

“Anus Fragilis huh?” He repeated trying his best to suppress another set of laughter but he failed at it ever so evidently.

“Anguis…er-slow worm.” She cringed as she picked up on the joke that had him loosing his composure like that. Perhaps she judged him to act his age which he looked so fast. “It’s also called slow worm. I lost him regardless, so I’ll get going. Sorry to bother you.”

“No, no hang on a second darling” he said gripping her elbow as she attempted to leave but as she returned to face him again he left it just instantly. “Since you’re already here, allow me to indulge you in a coffee or so? It would be very disappointing if I don’t get to learn more about…” he wanted to say it, the joke. But the awkwardly offended look on her face of feeling small wasn’t worth it so he kept it to himself “slow worms and legless lizards”

“They’re the same.” She briefed him feeling his ignorance, the PhD aspirant did not seem to have time to entertain his indulgence. “Forgive me but I have to go, I’ve walked too far from my car.”

“Well then allow me to drop you?” Rupert offered with his usual charm which didn’t leave to phase a lot.

Not her perhaps, “It’s not that far” she said curtly. Packing her camera equipment in a hurry. “Thanks. And sorry for trespassing.”

Rupert watched as she hastily packed her lenses and the rolls. Just when he thought he could work on himself to not offend people on first impressions, he generally didn’t do so with ladies so perhaps this was a first. “I’m Rupert Campbell Black” He put his hand forward for a handshake, “Sports Minister.” He introduced himself.

She had both her hands full with her books and camera, which she could rearrange back in the bag to accept his handshake but she’d rather not so she just nodded shortly. “Yes, Mr. Rupert, so nice to meet you.” She said with half a smile, then paced away not even waiting for his reply.

“I suppose I’ll see you around?” He said with his usual grin but she was already pacing away back to the path she’d come from.

That is how the two first met. Not her most memorable nor pleasant interaction but surely intriguing for the minister. The next time he met her, late early evening at a cafe. It took a second to recognise her with her head down in a book but there was enough lighting cast on her against the window where she sat. “Slow worm!” He exclaimed as he approached her causing her to avert her attention from the book to him.

“You…” she trailed off however her tone didn’t match the same enthusiasm as his. “Hi.” She said as he gestured to the chair across her on her table, asking if someone was there but she shrugged and nodded “Please, go ahead” she said being polite, internally bracing herself for another awful interaction.

“I was hoping I’d run into you” he told her leaning forward on the table crossing his arms, “turns out, your little bugger is a frequent visitor of the stable sheds back at the estate.”

“That explains yeah” she nodded closing her book, the size of it gigantic and hardcover it made a small thud, “it eats slugs and snails, spiders too…”

“Wonderful aspect” Rupert complimented, under informed on the subject he didn’t know what to say. “Did you get proper observations for your research?”

“Superficially yes” she nodded, “I’ll run into more of those one of these days.”

“You can always just visit my place again…I would be honoured to help out a bright mind.” Rupert offered leaning back in the chair, unbuttoning his blazer.

“That is so kind of you, I’m very sorry for trespassing that day” she said it again, obviously not friendly enough with him to take him up on that offer.

“Well you could make up for it by telling me your name.” He shrugged as his lips formulated a smile.

“Y/n.” She told him. As the conversation progressed, learning more of him, telling him more about her research and the subjects she’d come across so far. For someone in a vastly different field he was such an attentive listener. She’d told him a lot, about the animals, her thesis, her lectures and sessions, being a TA, moving here.

“And what of your friends?” He asked her over his second cup of coffee in the same conversation because he wanted to keep it going.

“I don’t live on campus so I don’t have roommates to be friends with, then I’m a TA but everyone else is a bachelors and third year student. Had I done college here I’d have those friends…I do have friends from college back home but as of now it’s only my professors.” She informed him, very casual with it but as she formulated the picture in his head it seemed to be a rather isolating experience.

“And what do you do for fun around here?” He asked her to see if it was as isolating as he realised.

“Trespass estates.” She joked with a small giggle, but in truth she did absolutely nothing for fun because there wasn’t anything.

“Greatest hobby ever” he joked back. But as she didn’t follow up with another activity he realised that if he pried about it he’d just force her to admit she led a boring and somewhat lonely life. He wasn’t judging her, she was fresh out of college and had to move a whole place and seemed to have no friends here. Well except for him if she’ll have him. “Are you struggling?”

“Of course not. I love my work, I can easily afford rent too it’s not a problem.” She replied honestly, if only financial was all of her struggles.

“Don’t you think you’d save more if you lived on campus?” He questioned unsure of her choice to stay in a boutique flat in one of the most expensive neighbourhoods.

“My father wouldn’t allow it. He’s a bit of a tone deaf classist that way.” She admitted, rather casually.

“Allow?” He repeated, surprised. He didn’t know her precise age but by her educational status and the looks of it someone in their early twenties didn’t need their father’s permission on how to live.

“It’s just a bit complicated, he wants all of his children to take the right step that is work in our family business, his company. I tried, it’s soul draining and very unlike me” she sighed “So I just extended education.”

“To get far from him?” He perceived, perhaps not the way she saw it.

“—To explore my options. I don’t want to disappoint him when I can avoid it.”

“And is this the way to be?” He asked, his tone guarded and expression curious.

“Perhaps.” She replied, but on the inside she was so hyper aware that anywhere farther from the family business as all the way to be. She didn’t want to distanced from her father nor her family, she may not be the golden child but she wanted him to be ever so proud of her even though she didn’t walk on the road he chose for her.

“Your spirit likes the fight doesn’t it?” It was more of an observation than a question.

“I don’t indulge in self awareness that well” She replied with a bemused shrug and he just let out a low laugh that. And that was her first friendship in Rutshire. To Rupert’s likeness the cafe was another one of basil’s side quests but he visited there less frequently given the bar was his primary. Regardless, Rupert got him too. The prime customer and his newest friend, studied there most of the time because she lived close by and Rupert felt drawn to her company.

She had no other and he found her growing to be his favourite one. He fancied the conversations with her so much, in her absence basil teased him about it. This one afternoon, Rupert visited as his usual time, or perhaps y/n’s usual time which he picked up on but she wasn’t there. “The coffee can’t be that good.” Basil said with a small scoff, as he found Rupert with a disappointed expression in the girl’s absence.

“I’m just trying to reduce the alcohol intake” Rupert said nonchalantly, well aware he didn’t the caffeine he’d been consuming just for the conversations with her.

“I wasn’t talking about the coffee” Basil added with a devious grin hinting at the double meaning joke he was referring for.

“Piss off” Rupert rolled his eyes at the man with a heavy sigh of irritation sitting down at the table, rolling up his sleeves and facepalming. “This is her usual time to come and study here” he mentioned.

“Which you don’t let her do.” Basil said, the entire time indulging the poor girl in conversations and spontaneous outing plans. “She’d have to be extraordinarily brilliant to keep up with her courseworks with all the detours you put her up to.”

“She is extraordinarily brilliant.” Rupert briefed him.

“I suppose you’d know.” Basil shrugged leaning against the table where he was sat, “Does she have a boyfriend?”

Seemingly offended at the mere thought of that Rupert’s expression disgusted, “Of course not!”

“Of course not?” Basil repeated surprised with his affirm expression. “So you are sleeping with her.”

“I’m not sleeping with her.” Rupert emphasised on the word ‘not’ and it was probably the tenth time that Bas had asked him that this moment.

“Of course not” Basil humoured him mimicking his tone when he said that.

“I’m not, it isn’t like that with her.” Rupert tried to explain that to his friend who found that to be such a foreign concept. It was a very strangely unknown and unspecific feeling for Rupert himself too.

“You don’t want to sleep with her?” Bas questioned not believing nor understanding the prospect “she’s rather pretty.” besides he’d sleep with anything.

“She isn’t just pretty Bas, she’s beautiful, a bit too much even on the inside.” He paused “She is precious.” Rupert spoke with such genuine passion that basil had to lay off of the joke he was brewing.

“And what of you?” Basil asked, it was something Rupert hadn’t even questioned himself for well not yet anyways.

“What of me?” He answered the question with a question feigning innocence. Before basil could further explain himself, even though well aware that Rupert understood him. The bells of the door jingled announcing upcoming presence in the nearly empty cafe causing the men to turn at the voice.

“Hello-Hello, Gentlemen!” Y/n exclaimed in the most enthusiastic Sunday morning tone possible but it was a cloudy afternoon on a Tuesday. To Rupert she always sounded like a Sunday morning with her little giggles and all the mannerisms but today she seemed way more lifted with spirits.

“Want to bet a tenner she ran into a coyote.” Basil said as she made her way to their table sitting across Rupert whilst basil was still leaning against the table.

“I bet you a twenty its a pine marten.” Rupert said, he picked up on everything from their conversation. This week she was in search of that specific animal from her list or so, he kept track somewhat subconsciously.

“It’s neither” She said with a smile still plastered on her face as she sat her bag down to the side placing her hands on the table. “I’ve got great news, well not great but perhaps good, great to me.” She went in an adjective discourse and shook her head coming back on track “My professor submitted my thesis to this government honorary publications department and I’m getting an in-kind research grant!”

“The government is giving you money?!” Basil matched her enthusiastic tone leaning forward on the table.

“No, no it’s an in kind grant…as in-they present me with an award but the big thing is that I get policy access, lab space, government authorised datasets…” she explained further with her eyes so lit up Rupert wanted to bottle this warmth of emotions he felt in just seeing her happy like this and drink it like water.

“You are getting an award?!” Rupert said with loud earnest passion for her excelling. “Y/n! That is marvellous news!”

“You fucking genius!” Basil added further, giving her a side hug and kissing the top of her head, giving her hair a ruffle as he walked across the cafe, “this calls for a celebration!”

“Thank you” She replied with a toothy smile. Feeling very heart warmed. Then Rupert took both her hands in his, he looked just as lit up as if it was his award.

“My darling, you absolute mastermind. Your mind is a wonder, y/n I am so so proud of you!” He said, he didn’t have to reaffirm or reassure more so because out of everyone she’d come across, Rupert had been so supportive, a subject and felt so unfamiliar yet he’d reassured and let her know it so constantly that she’d always have him to be cheering so hard for her. “You deserved this!”

“Rupert, that is so kind! Thank you, seriously” she replied with a glint in her eyes he could feel coloured by. Just about on time, basil blasted the confetti cracker he happened to have lying around. He turned the open sign to closed at the door of the cafe and returned to the table, slowly she let her hands out of Rupert’s.

“Didn’t have champagne in the cafe but this should do” Basil said as he presented their table with a small cake.

“You didn’t have to close the place” y/n said with a small giggle as she saw the cake, a sign in red jam crossing out the name ‘Einstein’ and Y/n in its place. Classic Bas.

“Oh please love, I deserve this celebration.” Bas said with a dramatic roll of his eyes, any reason to not work was reason enough.

“Right of course since he worked so hard.” Rupert joked clearly forgetting he owed the man in staying the cafe for him to keep it open just in case y/n might come in. They kept congratulating her over and over again as the trio dug into the cake.

“So when exactly is the award function?” Rupert asked, it was going to be event of the week for him more than it was for y/n.

“It’s on this Friday, I get one visitor pass and my father is flying out to attend it!” She said, ebullient. It did irk him somewhat because he’d wanted to see her receive the award but he knew how much her father’s approval meant to her so he was happy in her happiness regardless.

“That is great news, what did he say?” Rupert asked keeping his disappointment for not being able to see her at bay.

“His assistant put me through in the very second call so he must really be impressed, he asked me about the function and he sounded very positive of it.” She told them about the seemingly brief phone call.

“You have to talk to an assistant to get to your fath-“ basil was quickly interjected with a small shove on the leg from Rupert to take a turn in that observation. Rupert didn’t want it to rain her parade, “It’s so nice he’s coming all this way.”

“He’d probably stay a day or two after that you should meet him!” She added, it seemed as if she was somewhat more joyous with the fact that her father was pleased than the actual award to her name. It was a grey line.

“I would be delighted to.” Rupert said, he would be. At least for her sake despite having his internal doubts towards the man.

-

The award function was an extremely formal event, you could barely tell apart the professors from the bureaucrats. Rupert could tell the difference easily though, he simply knew the later group, almost all of them. But he wasn’t there for any of those people. Taking his seat at the round table, next to the faces he knew very well but he was way too focused on the happenings of the stage to indulge in small talk. And then there it was.

The lady of the evening. At least for him, her research dissertation was called out and he recognised it was her turn before they presented her name as well. White shirt with several pins of animal welfare and her educational institution. Simplicity and grace, ever so precious. As she received the medal and the award plate Rupert clapped perhaps the loudest, standing up even. The stage wasn’t so far but she didn’t spot him because her eyes were searching another direction and the procession was short lived before she could avert her gaze.

Finally after all the names were done, she was free from the stage back to the softly mingling crowd. “There she is!” The enthusiastic exclamation caught her attention from her lost trance.

Adhering the man in suit with flowers in his hand, surprised and radiated expression, “Rupert?!” She was baffled and so relieved she didn’t understand the later feeling. She rushed to him, their distance getting closer as he opened his arms for her.

“Congratulations, darling” he said bringing her into a tight embrace both of them so joyous, hers was rather infectious. He easily lifted her from the ground out of glee, kissing the side of her face. “You were wonderful out there!”

“When did you get here?” She asked once he put him down and she pulled away yet kept her arms entangled with him. Enough to just see his face, “also how?”

“I’m an MP you thought I wouldn’t be able to get into a government function?” He amused, surprised she did not see it coming, perhaps she wasn’t expecting him but her reaction seemed as if she would rather prefer him. “I got here an hour before yours was announced.”

“I am so glad you made it!” She told him, the effort was so heartwarming to her. He’d came to an event which wasn’t initially his, making more arrangements to even get in for her. She didn’t want to voice it because he’d always reply with such a strange concern as if being loved more than to be sustained wasn’t optional, she wasn’t used to this concern nor sentimental support.

Rupert could tell her kind, wide eyes in a sort of turmoil of something she couldn’t figure out by even herself but he didn’t pry on it, “where is your father?” He asked looking around shortly.

“Oh he…he isn’t here. He could not make it.” She said with a small shrug, that is how casual his absence was to him.

“—How come?”

“Probably his flight, I forgot to notify him about our time zones or so. If he were skipping he would’ve called prior” there was a small hope tugging at her heartstrings trying to believe this wasn’t like the other times. “He would be here anyways, would just be missing the event.”

“I suppose” he replied curtly, being presented with two choices of either being truthful with her of her father’s harsh and uncaring constitution or hold the hope she held out for the man with her. None of the two seemed befitting to him. As the event progressed she introduced him to some of her professors and people that she worked with, he did the same with the other officials that he knew of. She grew tired of the socialising and asked him if they could leave the event, she wasn’t as tired as she was growing disappointed of a man who wasn’t even in the room.

Even though Rupert and her came to the event from a different place and were going back in difference directions it was a given that they leave together. At least to him it was, she’d just informed him she felt like leaving and he stood up in an instant. He was dropping her back to her place because she didn’t driver herself to the function. The two were walking, to his car in the chilly night with his suit blazer draped over her shoulders, flowers and his hand in her hand, he carried her award with her bag for her and a light hearted conversation. Serenity which ran away once they came across a pay phone call booth. “Do you mind if I go make a call?” She asked him, he nodded but he was well aware who that call was intended for.

Rupert leant against the phone stand with the small door of it open, close to her as she pressed the numbers inserting coins. Anxiously awaiting the other line to answer she replied when a voice answered “Hello, this is me, y/n. Did dad leave yet?” She asked, he hated to see her in such distress and was afraid the conversation ought to make it worse. “What? What do you mean—the event, my award he was going to be here for…like he promised.” Rupert could only hear y/n’s side of the conversation but he could pan out the other side, which wasn’t even her father just some office assistant. “Just let me talk to him…please…two minutes perhaps?” It was difficult to watch, begging for the scraps of her father to an assistant. After a few moments the call ended and she couldn’t even stomach the courtesy of a goodbye.

As she walked out of the booth he searched for her to meet his eyes, narrate to him the happenings of the call. “His plans changed” she said but nothing further. He could tell she didn’t feel like talking so he stopped walking and also held her back from the track, pulled her into his arms. Resting his chin on top of her head as he held her, enlacing his arms around her tightly. He could definitely stay like this for rest of the night. Even life? A small voice suggested and he quickly dismissed it as he was pulled back to her, she didn’t feel relaxed in his arms even though she hugged him back and her face so steady, he felt his shirt getting sprinkled with dampness, as if in smallest portions.

“Y/n…” he trailed off pulling away to confirm if she was crying, “are you crying?” He asked as she lowered her face so he couldn’t see it but he leant in her direction to see. “Hey..hey, it’s alright” he pulled her back to him letting her weep onto his chest as he ran a hand through her hair.

“I don’t understand why I feel so bad” she said through her tears, holding onto him like she would fall apart even more if he let go. Perhaps she would.

“It is alright darling just let it out” Rupert said as he continued to sooth her in his arms, trying to provide a present, grounding support.

“He promised me…” she trailed off crying harder, all those events where her father should’ve been present but wasn’t came back to her. Fancy dress competitions at school where the chauffeur that dropped her off would have to attend the show out of pity for the child, birthdays where he would have to be bothered a multiple times to come attend cake-cutting, evidently sad over a test but he simply couldn’t be bothered to ask his daughter if she was alright. So much life spent in I-promise-you-I’ll-be-there. So much disappointment and you’d think one would learn. “I just feel stupid-I thought this time would be different.”

Rupert held her face in his hands “look at me” he said forcing her to meet his gaze. “You are not stupid for what you feel, you are not at fault for someone so detached and irresponsible towards their own child.” He spoke whilst wiping her tears, “he will forever be an incomplete, deficient man for the kind of father that he is. But you my love are beyond him and how he treats you, you’re brilliant and kind and funny and you have a heart big enough to hold a planet. You are going to go so far, your suffrage of his conditional love and inflicted anguish will heal for the better. I promise you that.”

This was a better hope than the one she was always latched onto, hoping that he would change, come around for once. But letting go and a promise for a softer tomorrow seemed so much more beautiful. “But I am so tired”

“You have been so gentle through so much…you must have been tired too. But persevering is constant and you, you always do. There is so much life within you, those around you are infected with it, I know I am.” He confessed, he hadn’t voiced it out especially not like this even to himself but she was more than a lively feeling, more than a chase or a rush for attraction. No. She was life.

Such admission made her heart flutter, she felt the drumming in her ears and it wasn’t the anxious kind. This felt like a sunrise after a good dream, but she had no words for it because her eyes spoke enough and so did his that wandered down to her lips and back to his. Reciprocating the course of gaze when he leant forward, face so close she didn’t move even by the slightest tired of awaiting him to inch to the closest extent she caught a soft grip of his shirt, lowering her gaze right when he crashed his lips onto hers. She kissed him back and it felt heavenly, as the kiss deepened he felt like he had reached there.

Smiles glued to their faces once they pulled away to catch a breath, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear he said “you are not the only one who’s won something tonight.”

“That means I’ve won twice” she said with a small giggle adding to his exaggeration that kissing her felt like a win.

“That isn’t the same.” Rupert corrected her, going in to kiss her again with a slower passion, taking his time letting the sweetness of it linger “for me this is centuries worth of wins.”

—

IVE SO MUCH MORE OF HIS STUFF COMING SOMEBODY SEDATE ME…next his enemies to lovers let me know if you want to be tagged

PLEASE comments are my fuel I am HUNGRY for validation please if you like this please please let me know

[zerobaselove]

a perfect fit | zhang hao

pairing: campus crush! zhang hao x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 3409

warnings: minor swearing probably?  lowercase intended, not proofread

prompts: 4. "what do you want?" "you" 5. "i want to help you, so please, let me." 11. "is that my sweater?"

notes: combined a hao prompt request (i changed the phrasing of 4 a little bit IMSORRY) with a campus crush! hao request and came up with this,,, honestly longer than i was expecting and somehow shorter than i wanted it to be ?? idk.. anyways geology major! hao you are dear to me (i want him so bad i'm clawing at the walls of my enclosure) hope you all enjoy <3

college was stressful. you knew it would be, it had to be expected. but what you didn’t expect was that the hardest part wasn’t the coursework or the seemingly constant stack of homework sprawled across your desk; it was actually paying attention in your classes.

how were you supposed to focus on mantle convection when three rows down was arguably the prettiest boy you had ever seen in your whole life. zhang hao.

you only had a few classes together, but coincidentally, due to your wandering eyes those happened to be the classes you were falling behind in. and he was to blame. 

truth be told, it seemed everyone had some sort of campus crush on the boy; between the way he dressed and carried himself and the way he always managed to be at the top of every class, just about everyone either wanted to be him or be with him. and you couldn’t blame them in the slightest. 

zhang hao was someone to admire from afar; across the lecture hall or the path between buildings. so when he ended up in a study group you had joined in an attempt to graduate with a respectable grade, you were dumbfounded, what was someone like him doing in a study group for a class he was passing with flying colours? maybe it was charity work, you convinced yourself.

the study group was only so effective for you, with zhang hao in the group you couldn’t focus, yet again. it was too hard to not notice the way he fidgeted with the pen in his hand or the way he doodled small animals in the corners of the paper. or the way he leaned over a fellow classmate as he helped them with a particularly complicated question in the textbook. 

you were doomed.

——

after a few weeks of no progress, you were just about to give up. maybe i’ll just drop out and work at a department store or something. you told yourself as you crouched down outside the library you all studied in. 

sure, you were being a little dramatic. but you were one question away from bursting into tears as you walked out of the study group an hour early. the embarrassment of leaving paled in comparison to crying in front of the boy who had been your reason to showing up to class some days. 

“are you okay?” the question pulled you out of your pity party, looking up to see the tall male in front of you. he gave you a worried look at your curled up frame leaned against the brick. “i’m just feeling a little stupid,” you tried to laugh, a dry husk of humour pushing past your lips.

the boy didn’t respond right away, opting to crouch beside you as he sat down on the concrete right next to you. if you weren’t so stressed about your academics right now, you probably would’ve been a stuttering mess at the close proximity. maybe you would’ve even noticed the scent of his cologne. but all you could do in that moment was frantically wipe your eyes and attempt to not look as pathetic as you felt. 

his eyes softened as he watched your hands rest on top of your knees, “you’re not stupid,” he said, a sweet tone in his voice, comforting even, “it’s a difficult class, everyone has been struggling.” his kind words tugged at your heart more than you’d care to admit.

“but everyone else seems to be getting it eventually.” you sniffled, concentrated on the tears threatening to spill again, “and i just keep slipping further and further behind.” you let out a heavy sigh, “i’m never gonna catch up at this rate.” 

you almost forgot the boy was even sitting there, silently listening to your troubles. “shit sorry,” you let out a pitiful laugh, “i didn’t mean to drag you into being my therapist.” 

he shook his head, a smile spreading across his face, “it’s okay, i’m glad you told me.” he turned his head towards you, “how about we make a deal?”

you only tilted your head in curiosity, urging him to continue his train of thought.

“you let me tutor you from now until exams. if you pass, then we both win, and if you don’t, then at least you tried your best.” 

the offer was sweet, but you couldn’t help but wonder why zhang hao of all people would take time out of his days to tutor you.

“what’s in it for you?” you let a small smile break out across your face, the first in what felt like weeks. 

“well,” he pretended to ponder for a moment, “maybe i just want to pass my knowledge onto someone.” you couldn’t help but laugh at the reason as he continued.

“and maybe, this can double as a way to make a new friend, if you’d want.”

sure. “friend” had no real implications of anything beyond a good acquaintance. but you almost choked at the disbelief. the university’s sweetheart, zhang hao wanted to be your friend? the boy you had spent the better part of the last two months trying to tear your eyes off of while your professor droned on about chemical reactions and the composition of rocks.

“are you sure? i don’t wanna take up too much of your time and-“ he cut you off before you could finish. “i wouldn’t offer it if i wasn’t sure,” he smiled gently, “i want to help you, so please, let me.”

you pondered the offer for a moment again. maybe it was the prospect of spending more time with him, or maybe it was just the idea of finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel that was this class, but you had made up your mind.

“deal.” your smile widened as you stuck out a hand, his own coming out to shake yours as he mirrored your expression. 

this was going to be interesting.

——

your one on one study sessions had only been going on for a few weeks but you were already starting to grasp the concepts more with zhang hao’s help. “just call me hao.” you recall him insisting on multiple occasions, unaware of the way your brain would try and twist the intimacy behind it. just friends, you had to remind yourself, that was all you two would ever be, and that was honestly more than you ever could have expected. 

“hao,” the name rolling off your tongue, “it’s getting late, can’t we wrap this up?” you whined, pouting a little in hopes of getting sympathy from the boy. as smiley as he was, he was also quite the hard-ass when it came to studying.

“one more question and then we can be done for tonight, deal?” he smiled, gesturing to the last practice question from this page. you let out a huff as you mumbled an acceptance of the deal, grabbing your pencil once again as you wrote out the explanation, scouring your brain for the scientific phrases to communicate your thoughts. 

zhang hao looked over your final answer with a content hum, his hand coming over to ruffle your hair, “good job, you’re getting the hang of this.” 

you stiffened at the contact and praise, you had never really gotten validation like that, especially not from someone like him, and your brain was running with it. 

when you originally agreed to this arrangement you hoped that maybe it would be your way to get over your little campus crush on the boy sitting next to you, but it had only gotten worse, and you were slowly losing it. taking a moment to shake the thoughts from your mind, you started gathering your stuff up to leave, as was zhang hao. 

“don’t forget you’re stuck with me tomorrow too, y/n!” he chuckled lightly before saying his farewells and leaving first, rushing off to meet up with his friend; you were sure he mentioned his name once before, ricky maybe? something like that.

you only nodded as you waved, grabbing your jacket off the back of the chair and slinging your backpack over your shoulder, but then something caught your eye; a light blue hoodie draped across the back of the back of the chair next to you. zhang hao’s sweater. the boy was already long gone, and based on how often he was sporting the hoodie, you assumed it was one of this favourites, so you couldn’t just leave it here. “i’ll just give it back to him tomorrow.” you mumbled to yourself, picking up the sweater and resting it over your arm.

when you got back to your dorm you folded the sweater nicely on your desk, right in your view so you wouldn’t forget it tomorrow. as much as you tried to ignore it, that night you couldn’t help but notice the warm citrus scent of his cologne, and you swore you could smell it in your dreams that night.

——

the next day was a brisk spring day, the warm air having been replaced by a crisp, almost cold, breeze. to say you had not dressed properly was an understatement, you thought to yourself as you walked across the campus towards the library. in a moment of weakness as you called it, or rather a moment of strong winds, you took it upon yourself to throw the pale blue hoodie over your frame. he wouldn’t mind too much right?

sitting at your usual table in the library, you set up your many papers and textbooks, not paying attention as the boy you had grown close to approached the table, a little out of breath. 

“sorry i’m late,” he breathed out, catching his breath after seemingly running here. 

“it’s okay, i was early,” you laughed, finally looking up at the boy who’s cheeks were flushed light pink.

you watched as his gaze traced your figure, taking notice of the sweater you were wearing, “is that my sweater?”

now it was your turn to flush a shade of pink, trying to form a sentence as you stuttered through excuses, “oh, i’m sorry,” an awkward laugh escaped your lips, “it’s just you left it here yesterday and so i was bringing it to give back to you but it was colder outside than i thought it was and so i put it on on the way here without really thinking, i can give it back right now,” you barely stopped to take a breath, “or i can go wash it and then give it back if you’d prefer.” your train of thought was stopped by his hand on top of yours, your mind going from a million miles a minute to frozen solid in mere moments. 

“it’s okay y/n,” he chuckled at your flushed expression as he sat down next to you, “it looks cute on you anyways.” he said simply, moving his gaze to the textbooks in front of you as he flipped to the pages you were on the day before. 

this boy was going to be the death of you.

——

something in the air seemed to change after that day, and it wasn’t just the scent of the blooming cherry blossoms in the breeze. something had changed with you two, and perhaps that was how the two of you ended up in your dorm room rather than the library, and on a saturday of all days. 

“what homework have you got for me today teacher zhang hao?” you joked, leaning back on the arms as you sat on the end of your bed, looking at the boy who sat comfortably in your desk chair.

“aren’t i allowed to just hang out with my friend without talking about plate tectonics?” he said, a joking sarcasm lacing his tone. 

you only laughed in response as you tried to control your heart beating out of your chest at the simple, friendly, term. 

before you knew it, the day had faded into night in a blur of laughter and conversation; real conversation. it was a nice change of pace, and as much as you hated to admit it, the more you got to know him, the more your campus crush had changed into just a genuine crush. 

you tried to ignore it, but it was so hard to ignore the comfort you felt being around him, how easy it was to slip into conversations and how easy he made you laugh. how were you supposed to not think about that.

and much to the dismay of your heart, these weekend hangouts had become a sort of routine. on top of seeing him most weeknights at the library, your interactions had spilled into the weekends quite seamlessly. whether it was just having a movie night in your dorm room, wandering campus during sunset, or even just doing normal young adult things like going shopping. the two of you had even gotten into the habit of accompanying each other on errands just to keep the other company. 

it was nice, you couldn’t lie, but the domestic activities made it that much harder to separate your romantic and platonic feelings for the boy. 

and here you were, awaiting the arrival of the boy on a saturday night. every time your phone lit up you rushed to grab it, just in case it was from hao, the casual name becoming more natural over the weeks.

this time it actually was a message on your screen, you found yourself quickly unlocking your phone to see what it said. “i’m going to stop at the store on my way over,” the text read, “do you want anything?”

before the voice of reason in your head could object, you typed back a quick response, “you.” simple, straight forward, to the point. everything you weren’t. it was already too late to cover up your boldness as you watched the typing bubble appear, in sync with the wave of anxiety and near nausea that washed over you.

“you think you can afford me?” he joked back, rolling with the conversation more smoothly than you ever could have, evidently. you typed back a quick laugh, hoping he wouldn’t see the truth behind your original response, “probably not, maybe i’ll just take some gummy worms.” you replied before nearly throwing your phone across the cramped room. 

and to think, you were stuck with him all night.

——

you tried to focus on the movie, you really did, but the all too familiar feeling of wandering eyes and a racing heart took over your senses, and who could blame you? it wasn’t every day you found yourself sharing a blanket with the prettiest and kindest boy you’d ever known. you almost wondered if he could feel the heat radiating from you, or if he would just blame it on the fuzzy blanket covering your legs. you hoped it would be the latter.

soon enough the credits were rolling and you finally pulled yourself from the thoughts spinning around your mind, just in time for hao to turn to you with a smug smile. “you didn’t pay attention to any of that movie, did you?”  the question caught you so off guard you actually choked a little on the sharp intake of breath. was it that obvious? you wondered. you really had to work on your expressions it seems. 

“what’s on your mind y/n?” the smooth, almost teasing tone in his voice would’ve probably made your knees give out had you not already been sat down in your bed.

you managed to stutter out a response, rather reminiscent of the first real conversation you two had months prior. “oh it’s, uhm,” you quickly tried to come up with a believable excuse, settling on possibly the worst one, “it’s nothing.” the stiff laughter did nothing to help your case as he grinned at you knowingly, hopefully not too knowingly. 

“so i’m nothing now?” he feigned offense as his hand came up rather dramatically to his chest. “i thought i meant more to you than that, y/n.” he teased, obviously enjoying watching the gears turn in your brain as you attempted to process the conversation that was happening.

busted.

there was no coming back from it now and you knew it, and more importantly, he knew it. at some point he had picked up on your lingering gaze, your quick glances that you thought had gone unnoticed. all there was left for you to do was either admit your growing feelings, or play dumb about the whole thing. and somehow you decided the latter was the smartest option. 

“i, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about.” another forced laugh pushed past your lips, getting past your thumping heart on the way out. 

it seemed that your reaction filled zhang hao with a new sense of confidence, because he did the last thing you expected him to do; lean in. not close enough for your lips to graze each other, but close enough to feel his breath on you, to feel the heat radiating off of your faces. close enough to feel the thick tension in the air, but you were sure anyone could feel that if they were here, you could even cut it with a knife.

“i think you know exactly what i’m talking about,” he smiled, your eyes darting down to his lips that were only a couple inches from your own before looking back to his eyes; warm and inviting. 

you weren’t sure what to say anymore, and so you made the bold decision to close the gap; only briefly, but long enough to taste the cherry lip balm that coated his lips, to feel the way his lips fit against yours. like tectonic plates.

what started as one chaste kiss turned into 2, and then 3, and then a gentle kiss of yearning, of waiting, accompanied by his soft hands on your cheeks. you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, his soft hands feeling like silk against your burning skin. you could feel him smile into the kiss as your body eased, relaxing into a rhythm. time slowed and suddenly the two of you were the only people in the world, the boy in front of you filling all of your senses. zhang hao. zhang hao. zhang hao. your brain echoed as you pulled away, giddy smiles plastered across both of your faces.

“is that what you were on about?” you smiled, your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes flickered between his lips and his eyes once again.

he let out a small laugh, “what do you think?” he sat back against the wall once again, admiring the way the glow from the tv illuminated your skin, and the way you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face. “i thought you’d never do something about it.” he laughed again, this time grabbing your hand lazily.

“listen,” you started, “i didn’t think you noticed, and i was okay to keep it that way,” you looked down at your interlocked hands, your mind silently replaying the last 5 minutes on a loop, rendering yourself no better than a broken record. “you’re the zhang hao, everyone has at least a bit of a crush on you, so why would i assume i had any chance.”

he shook his head as a proud smile spread across his face, “everyone?” he asked, leaving you to lightly smack his arm, a small yelp coming from the boy. “okay okay, no need to smack me,” he laughed, “but really, you thought you didn’t have a chance? why would i have offered to tutor you if i didn’t have at least a bit of an interest in you?”

you let yourself ponder for a moment, looking back on the now distant memory. “i just thought you were being nice!” you stated matter-of-factly, earning another giggle from the boy, you could get used to that sound, or rather, being the reason behind it.

he merely smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips, “well i’m not nice like this to anyone else, if that helps make it more clear.”

“good,” you mirrored his smile, taking in the beauty that was the boy in front of you, the boy who seemed to fit with you like the tectonic plates.

“because i don’t think i could handle the idea of you spending your wednesday nights talking about rocks with anyone else.” 

[raven-cincaide]

 ‘Best Friend’ Kisses 

Summary: The three times you and Yuji kiss all happen during different stages of your lives, different times and have inherently different meanings, from the awkward ‘first kiss’ as middle schoolers to a surprise reunion smooch. Although, you don’t know what to make of the last one. 

Pairing: fem! Reader x (Best friend) Itadori Yuji Sweetober prompt 2: Best friends  WC: 2.4 KWarnings: Fluff, minors (innocent!) kissing, did I mention fluff?

To say that you and Yuji were close would be like saying ‘water is wet’ or ‘ice is cold’- it's something that everyone who had seen you grow up knew; you two were always in each other's lives- day in and day out you’d hang out together. If you were there, then Yuji would undoubtedly be somewhere close by. It was like you two were bound by an invisible force which told you where the other was. A force that always seemed to bring you two together. Your teachers would sometimes laugh that you were ‘held together by a red string of fate’ while your parents always reminded you two to get married at a respectable time and not forget to send them an invite to the wedding. 

Truth be told, it felt so perfect and surreal. Like your entire life plan was laid out perfectly in your lap: study together until college, get a degree, then you would work at a company for a few years to build up a resume and some cash before settling down somewhere on the outskirts of Tokyo. Maybe even in the more green village-like areas where you’d build your perfect future together. Yuji would be a P.E. teacher at some local high school, and you would be either an English teacher or a writer, depending on which profession took off first. You’d build a family together; Yuji wanted three kids at least. You wanted one, so you compromised on two and filled the last spot with a pet of his choice. 

Thus, the first time you two kissed was related to that grand life plan. The life plan that you two came up with during recess in middle school. Although it was a gorgeous day, nice and warm and perfect to be outside, both of you lazied about in the school library, sitting on the soft chairs in the very corner of the room commonly known as the ‘silent reading corner’, surrounded only by a handful of usual-ignored-older computers and heavy bookshelves. There was no one in the school's library besides the two of you and an old librarian checking in new books somewhere in the second room, well out of sight. The other kids were out kicking ball between each other or up to some other type of mischief, but you felt down and tired and settled for the more comfortable indoors. And expectedly and without question, Yuji joined you, sitting in the familiar seat beside you. 

“Let’s kiss on it!” The young pink-haired boy exclaimed as he spun another round on the well-used computer chair beside you. “You know, to seal the deal. As they do at weddings in front of the pastor, so it’s a deal for life.” 

You peer up at him from your spot, where half of you lay half sprawled out on the desk, head rested on top of your folded arms. “I think it’s the vow before the kiss that makes it, you know, ‘til death do us part’ thingy.” 

“Oh.. well, let's do it anyway; that way, we won’t forget it until we get married!” Yuji shifted closer; his lips widening into a wide grin as though he had just won a whole cake.  

“I swear you just want a kiss”, you mumbled, but don’t shove him away. You stayed perfectly still, just staring at him with huge eyes, as he leaned closer until you felt a tiny pressure on your lips, a shaky warmth that disappeared as quickly as it came. A second passed, and you two stared at each other in utter silence before you flew away, faces dark red, as you heard the librarian walk in to remind you to get back to class. 

You had to admit you don’t remember much of that kiss. 

But you do remember the sudden shyness that followed and how yours and Yuji’s cheeks would blossom into dark red blush whenever you looked at each other after that- a fact that made the other kids tease you the hell out of you two. 

It was an awkward kiss that, for a long time, made you worried you would lose Yuji. That he wouldn’t want to be friends with you because you were a bad kisser- and unknowingly to you, he felt the same. Thus, you two didn’t kiss more times in middle school. 

The second time you and Yuji kissed was during your first year of high school, right after summer break. The two of you sat, sprawled out in the shadows of the high school bleachers from one side and the overgrown bushes from the other—a perfect little obscured space for anyone who didn’t want to be seen. But still wanted to have a good view of the sports area with the bright green football field, an area for throwing balls, spears, high and low jumps and other activities you didn’t even know existed. 

The football tryouts had just finished, yet there were still a few hours left until the cheerleading tryouts started. Yuji had wanted to only show up to your tryouts. Still, an old classmate practically begged him to join for football tryouts as company, completely forgetting that since last semester Yuji hit puberty and not only shot up like a beam but also grew strength and muscle like a gorilla. Effectively impressing the P.E teacher who wanted nothing more than to sink his claws into your horror-loving, more-of-a-bookworm-than-sports-guy Yuji. 

So now you had no choice but to hide in the shadowy part of the field, sitting on Yuji’s sweatshirt in your bright blue cheerleader uniform, sipping on a milkshake and Yuji in his barely sweaty jeans and t-shirt, right beside you, chugging down a Gatorade. 

“How quickly do you wanna get married?” 

Your eyes flickered to Yuji as he peered at you through pink bangs. The second he caught your eye, though, he turned away, his face unmistakably red. His lips were still wrapped around the neck of the bottle. He was a mix of cool-casual as if he had just asked how long you had until class, but also so obviously fidgety and nervous that you found him totally cute. Absolutely adorable, and something else you refused to admit about your best friend. But there was also something else in his expression, and you quickly recognised the question for what it was: a distraction. Something to keep his mind occupied on anything other than his sick grandpa. 

‘So bad, huh?’ you wanted to comfort him in the only way he would accept- by answering his half-metaphorical question: “Hmm, maybe during or straight after Uni? I heard there are some perks with getting housing if you’re a young married couple,” You mused aloud, trying to keep the tears out of your voice. 

“We should kiss on that, You know, to seal the deal..” you paused mid-sip of your cherry-flavoured milkshake, sensing an air of nervousness settled between you. You bite your lips, a part of you were uncertain and nervous. You weren’t children anymore, and a kiss at your age would have all sorts of implications. 

But you could also see his need for a distraction, could see how tense his shoulders were and how desperately he gripped the Gatorade bottle. He was afraid, you realised, afraid to be completely alone once his grandpa passed. You still had your parents, but Yuji would have no one. He was afraid you’d leave him too. 

“I swear you just want a kiss” You could practically hear him sob in relief as he spun around to face you; the childhood reply from all these years ago brought him unimaginable relief.

This time it was not a shy and quick press of the lips- it was more desperate. He pressed his lips to yours firmly and moved them against yours as if he were trying to get closer or eat you alive. You weren’t sure.  Teenaged hormones raged- an unexplainable tension between you two as your lips and spit, and tongue met each other over and over again. 

This time, there was a lot more exploring now, tasting, feeling. 

The taste of Yuji and the puckishly sweet-synthetic taste of post-practice Gatorade cut through the sweet flavour of a cheery milkshake on your tongue. The warmth of his hands on your body, the feel of his chest under your hands. How much he had changed seemingly overnight from a soft and squishy boy into a brick of solid muscle hidden underneath hoodies and loose-fitted jeans. 

You gasped as he pushed you down into lying and broke the kiss to stare at him. His pupils were blown wide, almost manic. One leg was planted on the ground, the second was frozen in the air mid-saddling your waist, as if he had just realized what he was doing. His blush caught up with him, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, not sure what to do. “D-Do y-you wanna stop?” 

You heard the unmistakable whistle from the tryouts just meters away, and it was as if a dose of reality had finally broken through your haze. What were you two doing in broad daylight too? “Y-yeah, definitely not here” You don’t miss the disappointment on Yuji’s face as he scrambled off of you and helpd you up. 

Thinking back, you wondered if things would have been different if you hadn’t said ‘yes’ that time- if you hadn’t stopped and instead urged him on the way every fibre of your being screamed at you too. Would Yuji have stayed in your high school? Or would he have transferred out of there the very next day with no warning and no goodbye? Not even a chance for you to say your condolences to him, or mourn his grandfather's death, who was like your own grandfather? Or would it have ultimately not mattered? 

The third time you and Yuji kissed was days before the university started. It was sunny and warm as you waited near rebuilt Shinjuku station for your friends for a much-needed shopping spree. The university started almost two weeks later than your high school after the summer break and the day coincided with the last time you saw Yuji. Although there was still a feeling of anger, much of it was replaced by melancholy and a sense of betrayal. You wished Yuji would explain the simple ‘why’- you swore you would have understood. 

But he never did, and despite frequent texting, you always turned down his request to meet up.

You were bitter, not only for having lost your best friend but also because he ruined the plan. The perfectly perfect life plan you both had created in middle school came crashing down without warning, leaving you alone to pick up the pieces. You were still bitter about being left behind- replaced like a pair of gloves and so stubbornly angry that you didn’t even notice Yuji screaming your name until he was just a few feet away. 

You glanced up, and the next thing you knew, he was on you. His arms came to wrap around your waist, and he spun you around and around, your face buried in the crook of your neck like in all those post-war veteran coming-home pictures. You noticed he looked older, more worn out than his twenties, like he had been through hell and back again. “Y-yuji?!-” You didn’t even finish your sentence as his lips were suddenly on yours. A desperate plea and apology all poured into that one kiss. 

You froze. Your body grew rigid in his arms; you thought your love had cooled, and yet there were sparks between you- no, wait, there WERE actual blue sparks around you. You tore yourself away from his lips, ignoring his sulking pout, as you stared at the specks of blue around you in shock and awe.

“You can see that?” An unfamiliar voice spoke up, and you turned to face a dark-haired man standing beside a brown-haired woman. Between them was something that you could only describe as a black-and-white demon dog of sorts. It’s horrifying and cute all at once. Although its proportions feel all wrong, there was something like a third eye in the middle of its forehead surrounded by a red mark in its forehead that didn’t look like a mere paint job.

 “And you see him?” the woman asks, pointing a long finger at the animal.

You nodded slowly, your gaze flickered between the reminisce of blue specks and the puppy, and then you returned to the unfamiliar duo. 

“Then it’s all good, right? Fushiguro? Kugisaki? We call tell her, right?” Yuji exclaimed, his voice an obnoxiously loud cheer that only piped down once you pressed your hands against his shoulders in a silent demand to be set back down on the ground. 

Instantly Yuji’s eyes, puppy dog expression and disappointed pout stared up at you. You didn’t smile or laugh back at him, in fact, you didn’t even know whether you wanted to know whatever that ‘all’ was. You just felt uneasy and awkward in your best friend's embrace after two years of absence, or maybe it was the way he looked much older than when you last saw him, like he had been to hell and back several times over? He didn’t look your age- he looked almost a decade older. Or was it something else that brought an unmistakable bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. Like you wanted to get the fuck away from there before you were dragged into something you didn’t want to be a part of. 

“Oy why is it so important for you to make her a sorcerer anyway?” the woman crossed her arms over her chest, seizing you and your still stunned expression, up and down as if judging your entire worth in that mili-second. 

“Because she’s my best friend of course!” Yuji exclaimed, throwing his arm around your shoulders to keep you from collapsing from the onslaught of emotion you felt at that moment. 

From anger and betrayal to curiosity and the unmistakable fear as the dio inched closer to you while Yuji kept you still in one place. But most importantly, the unmistakable pang of pain that came with being called ‘his best friend’. It reminded you once again that a kiss for Yuji was just a way to greet someone, like a personalised handshake or a first bump. It meant nothing, and you were a total fool to become so affected by it. To still hope against hope that your life plan could be salvaged. It was foolish because you were the only one to feel that way, 

Or so you thought.  

Author note: This is a republish of the fic from like 3 days ago, but still I just thought it could be a pre-university Yuji fic, or maybe a hdc . What do you think?

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[thebearer]

the milestone menu: roasted red pepper and tomato soup for sad days

prompt: the death of mikey's anniversary is near. you make a comfort meal for carmen.

contains: mentions of death. angty with a side of fluff (at the end). anxious!carmen (i mean ofc).

INGREDIENTS

3 red bell peppers. 4 large tomatoes, peeled, seeded, chopped. An onion, chopped. 2 garlic cloves, minced

1 1/2 tsp thyme. 2 tsp paprika. A pinch of sugar. Salt & pepper. Cayenne

1/2 cup Chicken broth. 2 tbsp butter. 1 1/2 tbsp flour.

DIRECTIONS

Cover peppers in oil, broil until black, turn to get all sides. Put them in a paper bag to rest, the skin & seeds should come off easily. Chop. Heat oil on med heat in a large pot, cook garlic & onions until soft. Add tomatoes, peppers, thyme, paprika, and sugar. Cook on med-low, until most of the liquid has evaporated, about 20 minutes. Stir in 6 cups of chicken stock, salt & pepper. Bring to boil & simmer for 20 mins, until the vegetables are tender. Strain soup. Use a food processor or blender, and blend solids to your desired consistency. In your large pot, melt butter & add flour. Add soup/purée and stir, simmer for a few minutes.

“Hey, baby,” Carmen’s voice came to you before he did. A heavy sigh, tired and heavy from the day, from the looming anniversary approaching. 

Mikey’s death date was creeping closer and closer, the days darker and colder as did Carmen’s demeanor. Longer days at work, distant even when he was home with you. You worried about him, though everyone told you not to. 

“He just… he gets like this when it gets closer to the date, you know?” Richie muttered when you’d confided in him at family dinner. “We all get kinda fucked up, but Carm… That’s just how he is, y’know? Just give’im some time.” 

Anchovy purred, rubbing against Carmen’s leg. It was almost like he knew. Carmen would swear he did, that he could sense his owner’s upset, that he was trying to make it better. He’s like you, Carmen would say, giving you a half grin that always had you swooning. 

Carmen frowned when he didn’t see you lingering about. Not in the doorway smiling at them, leaning in for a kiss, wrapping him in a hug. “Babe?” Carmen called again, looking down the hall. The lights were on in the kitchen, a small clinking of bowls and silverware. 

Carmen found you in front of the stove, trying to keep quiet, stirring a pan on the burner gently. “Hey,” He frowned when you jumped, turning around with a wide eyed gaze, like you’d been caught. 

“Carm,” You chirped, body shimmying in front of the stove, too close to the flame in a too loose shirt. Carmen fought the urge to tell you to move or tuck your shirt in. 

“You’re-You weren’t supposed to be home early.” You turned to the clock blinking on the microwave. “I-I thought you weren’t going to be home for another hour.” 

“Richie told me to leave.” Carmen frowned, trying to peer around you. 

“Why?” You blocked his view with your body, a side step in front of him. 

“‘Cause he’s a fuckin’ jaggoff lately. What’re you doin’?” Carmen huffed lightly, grabbing your waist gently, holding you in place so he could see around you. A large pot on the stove, bubbling to life, steam clouding the clear lid that covered it. 

“I’m cooking.” You huffed, shoulders deflating lightly. “I-I was going to surprise you. I had this whole thing planned, and I got candles and I was going to change out of this.” You threw your hands down on your sweatshirt- Carmen’s sweatshirt. One from Copenhagen he’d picked up when it was especially cold. You’d stolen in, not that he minded, he liked you better in it anyways. 

“Was going to at least try to look a little nice.” You mutter, wiping off a small stain, a glob of tomato that had flung when the processor lid wouldn’t come off earlier. 

“You look beautiful, c’mon.” Carmen shook his head at you. “What’re you- Why’re you doin’ all this?” His heart skipped for a moment, looking at the calendar pinned on the fridge. “Did I- We didn’t have plans?” Fuck, he’d been so busy he’d forgotten. Head everywhere but where it needed to be. First he was fuckin’ up dishes left and right at work, and now he couldn’t even remember a fuckin’ date. 

“No,” You shook your head, stilling Carmen’s racing mind. “I just… I wanted to do something nice.” You looked up at him, hands grabbing him sweetly, holding them in your own. “For you.”

“For me?” Carmen whispered, swallowing around the tightness in his throat, in his chest. “What’re you talkin’ about for me? What-Why would you wanna-” 

“Because,” You shrugged lightly, hands swinging between the two of you gently. “I just wanted to do something nice for you.” 

Carmen saw the hesitation on your face, knew what was coming before you said it. He tensed in your hold. “I just… With everything-” 

“-Don’t.” Carmen shook his head, the burn in his throat strangling his voice. “You don’t have to, baby.” 

“I do.” Your eyes met his, rounding in his gaze. “I want to. I-I don’t really think it will help, but… I don’t know. Whenever I was sad my mom would make this for me.” You nod back towards the pot on the stove. “It always made me feel better.” 

Carmen thought he might cry. He willed himself, squeezing your hands, pulling you into his chest to hold you. He just needed to hold you, to feel you, pressing his nose to your scalp, inhaling your scent. 

All the emotions he’d repressed, swallowed down and tried to power through. Anytime he’d turn the corner, see Mikey’s smiling face on the fall and he’d feel like breaking down. Screaming, crying, punching the walls, pulling his hair out, ears ringing and heart hammering; instead, he’d go to the walk-in to breathe through collapsing lungs.

You felt Carmen’s shaky breath, rattle out of his chest and shake into yours. Your hand rubbed gently against his back, up his spine in a soothing way you hoped would calm him. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, cheeks pressed against his chest. His heart raced in your ear, a pounding thud that made your own heart squeeze. “I’m so sorry, Carm.” 

“It’s alright.” Carmen gritted, jaw clenching, willing his tears back. “It’s-it’s just a lot. I don’t even fuckin’ know why. Why-Why I even get like this when-when it’s been so long.” 

“Don’t do that.” You shook your head, frowning at him lightly. 

“No, no it’s true. I- fuck, I shouldn’t be-” 

“-Carmen,” You held his gaze firmly. His red rimmed blue eyes met yours, a little wary, vulnerable. You softened, fingers brushing through his hair. “It’s ok.” 

The finality in your voice, soft but certain, it made Carmen’s jaw shake, emotions bubbling over. He held you, rocking side by side in the kitchen, cries muffled into your shoulder. You held him back, just as tight, cooing shushes over the hums of the appliances, his tears wet on his sweatshirt- your sweatshirt. 

“Don’t expect a lot.” You gave a small, teasing smile over your shoulder. 

Carmen had settled into his usual seat at the small kitchen table. He’d sheepishly wiped his tears, letting you dote on him sweetly. Kiss his tears away, soft lips pressing to his wet cheeks, his nose, pulling him in so his lips were on yours, arms still tangled around the other. 

“It’s not, like, gourmet or anything.” You shook your head, ladling out the hot liquid into a bowl. “It is my Nana’s recipe though.” 

“Better than gourmet then?” Carmen’s voice was raspy with dried tears, though he smiled lightly. Bright enough to warm your heart, leave you smiling, plating the grilled cheese. 

“She’d love that you said that.” You grin, setting the steaming bowl and sandwich in front of him. You leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, a hand running down the back of his neck lovingly. 

He burned at the simplicity, the sweetness of it all. So loving and affectionate freely, without any strings attached. Mikey would’ve loved you, Carmen was so sure of it. 

“This is good.” Carmen nodded, swallowing his spoonful. 

“Yeah?” You grinned proudly, positively beaming. 

Of course it was good, the best fuckin’ thing he’s ever had. It came from you, so it only made sense it was. Carmen didn’t say that. Instead, he smiled, reaching over for your hand, squeezing it across the table. “Yeah. Amazing. Just what I needed.” He swallowed another wave of tears, happier this time. “Thank you for, uh, for doin’ this.” 

“I’m glad you like it.” You propped your head in your free hand, a lopsided, lovey smile that warmed Carmen from the inside out. He knew his cheeks were blushing, tingling pink under your affectionate gaze. 

“It’s really good.” Carmen took another spoonful, the warmth spilling down his throat, soothing his chest. “Sorry I came home early and didn’t call. I just… I’ve been out of my mind, y’know? I’m sorry about that too, it’s-it’s not fair to you, and-” 

“-Carm,” You squeezed his hand lightly, fingers intertwining with his. “I’m glad you like it.” You smile sweetly. 

Carmen nodded, leg still shaking under the table. He didn’t let go of your hand, held it in an iron grip like a lifeline and you let him, thumb sweeping over his inked knuckles calmly. 

If Mikey could see him now, he’d be howling in laughter, cackling at Carmen at how “whipped” he was. Mercilessly tease him for being “soft” in a way that only a big brother could. But he knew Mikey would be so proud, so fuckin’ happy that Carmen found you- that Carmen had someone like you.

[jetii]

So excited you are taking requests! I love your work ❤! Could I request a S(ish)FW (language and innuendos ok, basically anything except actual smut) with Prompt #56? I was thing fem Jedi!reader and Crosshair having a snarky/flirting conversation post mission? Maybe leads up to implied sexy times, I'll leave that up to you.

This prompt was so Crosshair lol thank you for requesting it!

Grateful

Pairing: Crosshair x Jedi!Reader

Words: 3,132

Tags/Warnings: fluff, canon-typical violence, arguing as a form of flirting, a gratuitous amount of swearing, some making out but nothing too crazy

Prompt: 56. “I-I don’t know if I want to yell at you or fuck you.” / “Surprisingly that is not the first time I’ve heard that.”

500 Follower Celebration Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Eyes up, General.” Crosshair's smooth voice sounds in your ear. “You’ve got company.”

You quickly pocket your datapad, taking a look around the forest. You don't see anything, and you look up at the tree where you know Crosshair is perched, the tip of his rifle just barely poking through the leaves. 

"How many?" you ask, keeping your voice low.

"Just one, but it's a big one."

You take another look around the trees. "Where is it? I don't see anything."

"You will."

“That’s not helpful,” you grumble, turning back to your datapad, tapping on the screen to wake it back up. The screen lights up, and you go back to your notes, continuing your read through as you walk through the woods, your eyes flicking up every so often to glance around you.

Nothing.

Your eyes focus back on the datapad. You’re still searching for an elusive herb that is supposedly native to this planet, one which is a rare and valuable medicinal ingredient. It’s not uncommon for Jedi and other medics to search for them, though it was a pain to do so. Making matters more complicated was that this planet was so far removed from the Republic that you were risking getting into trouble just by being here. 

The natives had yet to be contacted by the Republic, so your presence was an unknown to them. You don't even know if they're civilized enough to communicate with you, and if they were, whether or not they'd be hostile to you.

What you do know is that you’d be punished if you were caught on this planet without permission, and the last thing you wanted was to be sent to the AgriCorps. Again.

Crosshair, of course, thinks you're stupid for even thinking about searching for this herb. He had made a point to tell you exactly what he thought as the two of you set off earlier this morning. You’d left Tech and Echo behind to repair the ship’s systems, while the two of you went out to explore, Hunter and Wrecker doing the same in the opposite direction.

Crosshair was less than pleased at the idea, but he'd agreed to go with you anyway, even if his reasoning was more to ensure you wouldn’t get yourself killed.

As much as you hated to admit it, the sniper was probably right. Your chances of actually finding this herb was slim. You'd spent several days searching for it already, and your only reward was sore feet and an empty vial. You didn't even know how the plant was supposed to look, other than the brief description provided to you by a Jedi Master who had been on this planet before and some poor quality photos.

Small, white, fragrant flowers. Leaves long and thin, shaped like a star, growing in groups of five.

You were sure there was plenty of vegetation that matched the description on this planet. Hell, it was a forest, and it seemed like everything was green. The only problem was finding the right one.

You had no idea how long you had until the flower stopped blooming, and the plant lost its medicinal value. If you didn't find it soon, you'd have to leave, and then you'd be forced to return home empty handed, without the rare herb and with no explanation as to why you'd returned without it.

And worse, Crosshair would be proven right.

The thought of that alone was enough to make you want to find the damn thing.

You walk a few steps farther, pausing at a small clearing in the forest. You glance at your datapad again, checking your notes, then scan the ground for any sign of the flower.

"It's not there."

You look up. You don't see Crosshair anywhere.

"Where are you?" you ask.

"Behind you."

You turn and look, and you still can't see him. "Well, if you're going to criticize my choices, the least you could do is get down here and help."

"I am helping. By keeping you alive."

You scowl. "Where the hell are you?"

"You should really watch your language, General."

You roll your eyes. "Come down here and help me," you say.

"Help you with what?"

You jump and turn, letting out a surprised yelp when you see Crosshair standing next to you, the butt of his rifle resting on the ground, one hand resting on it, the other on his hip. His helmet is still on, and you're unable to read his expression. You hadn't heard him approach, and it had startled you, enough so that your hand had gone to the lightsaber at your waist.

"What is wrong with you?" you demand.

He tilts his head. "I didn't realize you were so jumpy.”

"Yeah, well, if you weren't always hiding in trees and making creepy comments, I wouldn't be," you grumble, releasing your hold on your saber one finger at a time.

"If I wasn't always watching your back, you'd be dead," he retorts.

"Yeah, yeah," you mutter. "You're the only reason we're not all dead."

"You're welcome."

You let out a sigh and roll your eyes. You’re sure he’s smirking underneath his helmet, and you're not entirely sure how you feel about it. There's something about him that irritates you, that gets under your skin, but he's also the only one on the squad that seems to pay attention to you. And he does a good job of it, too.

It's strange, really, because he seems to notice things about you that nobody else does. He knows when you're annoyed, or upset, or when you need to eat. He can tell when you're not sleeping well, or when you're tired, or when you're distracted. And when you're focused, like now.

The two of you spend a moment staring at each other, neither of you saying anything. You can practically see the smirk on his face, and you narrow your eyes, not trusting him. He's the most unpredictable member of the squad, and he always seems to catch you off guard. He seems to take great pride in it, too, and you don't appreciate it.

"Whatever," you finally say, turning back to your datapad and looking at it again. The description of the herb and its supposed medicinal value was all well and good, but the picture of the plant was very generic. It looked like pretty much every plant in this damn forest.

"Do you actually have any idea what you're looking for?" he asks, stepping up next to you.

You give him a withering look, and he just stares back at you.

"No," you hiss. He chuckles, a low, warm sound that makes your skin prickle. "You wanna tell me what's so funny?"

"Not really," he says, his helmet turning towards you.

"Asshole," you mutter, turning away from him and scanning the ground. He's still staring at you, and the feeling of his eyes on you makes your skin crawl. "Do you mind?"

"No," he replies, his voice low. His helmet tilts to the side as he watches you, and you can feel your cheeks growing warm. He's close, and it makes you feel uneasy, but you don't back down, and he doesn't move.

“Look, if you don't want to be here, you can leave," you say, turning to him, your voice rising.

He takes a step closer, and you have to fight the urge to back away. You stand your ground, and he leans closer, the black visor of his helmet mere inches from your face.

He scoffs. “And get blamed when you disappear and die on this planet? No thanks."

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?"

He shrugs. "Wouldn't matter to me," he says. "But I like to think of myself as a loyal soldier. Wouldn't leave a comrade behind, no matter how idiotic the mission. Or the person.”

You roll your eyes. He's just trying to piss you off, and he's succeeding.

"You're insufferable," you hiss. "Get lost, and stop following me. That's an order."

He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Can't," he says. "I'm stuck with you."

"Why?"

He doesn't answer, just shrugs.

"Then just leave," you mutter, turning and walking away. You hear him follow behind, but you don't bother to look. You know he'll keep pace with you.

You walk in silence for a few minutes, before he speaks.

"What exactly are we looking for, anyway?"

"Are you actually going to help, or are you just gonna complain?"

"Complain, probably."

"Then leave."

"Not until you do."

"Ugh," you groan. "Fine. Look for anything with long, thin leaves, and white flowers."

"What does it do?"

"You don't care."

"Probably not, but I'm asking anyway."

"It's for an antidote," you reply. "For a poison. It's very rare, and expensive, and the only way to obtain it is by harvesting the flower. If we can find one with roots in tact, we can bring it back with us and grow our own. But the only place it's grown is here, and the blooming season is only a few days and then it's over."

"Sounds like a lot of trouble," he comments.

"It's worth it," you argue. "This could save thousands of lives."

"So, what do I look for?" he asks. You give him a look, and he shakes his head. "What? You asked for my help. Tell me what to do."

"Fine," you sigh. "The flower is usually found growing at the base of a tree or shrub, and the roots are long and deep, and it has a unique scent."

"Unique how?"

"I don't know, it's like..." You wrinkle your nose, thinking. "Like... honey and mint, I think? It's hard to explain. I don't really smell it myself, but that's what I was told."

Crosshair stares at you for a moment, his hands flexing. He looks like he's contemplating something, but doesn't say anything. Instead, he just turns away, walking into the woods.

"Cross?"

"Keep your eyes open, and don't die," he calls back.

"Where are you going?"

"To find your precious herb," he replies, waving over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes. "Just don't get lost!"

He doesn't answer, disappearing among the trees.

You continue on your way, stopping every so often to check the ground for any sign of the flower, and then move on. The day passes slowly, and you feel yourself getting more and more frustrated. Your frustration only grows when you see the sun starting to set, the sky slowly darkening.

"Fuck," you grumble, turning and heading back in the direction of the ship. Crosshair had left hours ago, and you hadn't seen or heard from him since. You had no idea where he was, or if he was still alive.

"Cross, you there?" you ask, tapping your comm.

Nothing.

"Crosshair, come in."

Still nothing.

You let out a frustrated huff. He was probably fine, but that didn't stop the worry from creeping up inside of you. It wasn't unusual for him to disappear, but you had expected him to stay close to you, especially after insisting that he stick with you.

"Dammit," you growl, turning back around. You're about to call out for him again, when you hear a twig snap behind you. You go still, your hand instinctively going to your lightsaber, and you spin around, igniting it.

You're not prepared for what greets you.

You're met by a massive, six-legged creature, easily three times your size, and twice as wide. It's covered in thick, shaggy fur, its legs ending in sharp talons. It lets out a growl, its teeth bared, saliva dripping from its mouth.

You're frozen in place, your heart pounding. You can't move, your limbs trembling, and you try to think, to find a way out of this, but you can't.

The creature takes a step towards you, its head lowered, and you can feel the air around you shift as it inhales. It's trying to catch your scent.

You grip the hilt of your lightsaber tightly, willing your hands to stop shaking, trying to keep the blade steady. You’ve fought bigger, more dangerous things than this. You can handle it.

You swallow hard, trying to calm your nerves. You can do this. You're a Jedi.

The creature opens its mouth, a low, rumbling growl echoing in the woods. It's almost on top of you now, and you brace yourself, knowing you have to act, or you'll be dead.

You move forward, swinging your lightsaber towards the creature. It reacts immediately, lunging at you.

A loud shot rings through the forest, and the creature stumbles, its head jerking to the side. Another shot, and another, and the creature falls, the life draining from its body.

You stand there for a moment, your lightsaber humming quietly, the smell of the creature's blood filling the air. You can feel your heart beating wildly, and you know you should be relieved, but you're not. You're angry, and terrified.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You could have gotten yourself killed."

Crosshair is standing next to you, his rifle aimed at the creature, his eyes hidden behind the black visor of his helmet. His hands are steady, his finger resting lightly on the trigger, and you can feel the tension radiating off of him.

Okay, now you're furious.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you demand, glaring at him. "There’s no way the locals didn’t hear that. We're going to be in so much shit."

"That thing was about to kill you, and all you can think about is how much trouble you're going to be in?"

"Yes!"

He lowers his rifle and pulls off his helmet, and you're met with his usual expression of disdain. "You're unbelievable."

"Where the hell were you, anyway?"

"Helping you," he says.

"Bullshit," you hiss. "If you were helping me, we'd have found the damn flower by now."

He holsters his rifle and digs into the pouch on his belt, pulling out a vial and holding it up.

You stare at it for a moment, not believing what you're seeing. It can't be. There's no way.

"Are you kidding me?" you ask, snatching the vial out of his hand and turning it over. Sure enough, inside is a small, white flower, its roots still intact.

"You're welcome."

"This can't be real," you murmur, your eyes widening as you stare at the herb. It's everything you'd hoped for, and more.

"It is," he says.

You turn to him, your mouth hanging open. “I…”

"It's okay," he says, taking the vial back and handing you his helmet. "You can say it."

“I—I don’t know if I want to yell at you or fuck you.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, and you cover your mouth with your free hand, your face burning.

His eyebrows shoot up, and he tilts his head.

“Surprisingly not the first time I’ve heard that," he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"It just slipped out," you protest. "I didn't--"

"Sure you did," Crosshair cuts in, taking a step towards you. He's close, so close that you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, and it makes your knees weak. "I've got that effect on people."

"I hate you," you whisper, unable to look away from him.

"No, you don't," he murmurs, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours.

You gasp, but don't pull away, your eyes fluttering closed as his hands rest on your hips, pulling you against him. His lips are soft, his kiss gentle, and you can't help but kiss him back, your arms wrapping around his neck, his helmet dangling from your fingers.

The two of you are pressed together, his warmth surrounding you, and you melt into his embrace. You're not sure how long you stand there, your lips moving against his, your heart pounding in your chest.

You can't seem to think straight, and all you can focus on is him, his touch, his scent, his taste. He takes a step forward, and you gasp as your back hits a tree, his body pinning you there. He takes advantage of the opportunity, his tongue slipping past your lips, exploring your mouth. You moan softly, and he deepens the kiss, his hands gripping your hips tighter.

Your knees are trembling, and you have to wrap your arms around his neck, afraid that you'll fall. He seems to sense this, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you flush against him. His armor is hard, digging into your skin, and you let out a soft whimper, a sound that makes him smirk against your lips.

He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, his breath hot against your skin. His eyes are dark and hooded, his cheeks flushed, and he's breathing hard. He doesn't speak, just stares at you, his gaze intense.

"Thank you," you finally whisper.

“For the flowers or the kiss?" he asks.

"Both."

He smiles, and it's one of the first genuine smiles you've ever seen from him. He's beautiful, and you can't help but stare at him, his sharp features, his piercing eyes.

"Come on," he says, pulling back and taking your hand. "Let's get back to the ship before the locals figure out we're here. You can show me how grateful you are later."

Your cheeks burn, and you quickly look away, trying to hide the blush that's creeping up your neck. 

"Yeah, yeah," you mutter, rolling your eyes, though you can't help but smile as he takes your hand and tugs you towards the ship. The two of you walk in silence, his fingers laced through yours. He's surprisingly gentle, his touch light, his thumb brushing over your skin.

You're still not entirely sure what to make of him. He's cocky and arrogant, but he's also protective, and attentive. He notices things that others don't, and he does what needs to be done, even when he doesn't want to. And he doesn't let anyone else tell him what to do.

But most of all, he's the one person who's always been there for you. He's the one who's always watched over you, even when you didn't want him to. And even when he's a pain in the ass, you're glad he's there.

You steal a glance at him, and he's looking at you, his expression soft.

"What?" you ask.

"Nothing," he replies, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Just wondering how grateful you're going to be."

You flush, looking away, and he chuckles, squeezing your hand.

"Shut up," you mutter, trying, and failing, to hold back a smile. You can’t deny you’re looking forward to it.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino @silly-starfish

[bones4thecats]

Hello! If you're still doing requests, could I ask for a angst (or fluff if you think that it works better) of Leona, Vil, Malleus, and/or Lilla (if I could do 4) reacting to Male!Reader having the Unique Magic of a Empathic Healer. This spell would allow the reader to heal any and all wounds inflicted on whom he's trying to healing. However, rather than creating blot to patch up the wounds, they are instead transferred onto the Reader, making it like he was the one that got the wound instead. He is well aware of the dangers and still can't stop himself because he hates people being hurt if he had the power to stop it.

I hope that this was good! Thank you for reading it at least!

M! S/O With A Emphatic Healer! UM.

Type of Writing: Request Name: M! S/O With A Emphatic Healer! Unique Magic (UM.) Characters: Leona Kingscholar, Vil Schoenheit, Malleus Draconia, and Lilia Vanrouge Requester: @beawesome04

A/N: This is fairly angsty with fluff at the ending of each, by the way, this is by far one of my best and favorite requests ever received! I loved the prompt and how you described everything! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!!

P.S.: For Lilia's part, I used his General! Self

⚠️ TW: Swearing, mentions of war and harm ⚠️ Spoilers for: Books 2 and 7 ⚠️

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

Male! Reader ; Reader Heals Leona From Overblot

🦁 Leona was sorer than he ever has been in his entire life

🦁 Opening his eyes with a massive groan, he could hear the sounds of crying and whimpers while people both yelled and ordered people in different ways, this large amount of sounds made his ears pucker down towards his skull as his eyesight became clearer

🦁 Looking at the sky, Leona noticed that a small amount of liquid dripped onto his face, making him slightly flinch and fully open his eyes, catching the sight of a large cut forming onto his boyfriend’s forehead

🦁 His eyes widened as he lunged upwards and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest as he asked you what you were doing

" I- I just wanted you to be okay… " " Y'know what your unique magic does to you, Y/N! I may be okay, but you'd be damaged just as badly, you dumbass! " " It's better me than you. " " No! It was my fault for letting my emotions control me so easily, not yours! "

🦁 Leona furrowed his eyebrows as you began to crack and start crying as he held you closely, then he noticed that you had quite a few bruises and burns from no doubt healing others and him

🦁 As his eyesight began to slosh over with tears of his own, he gripped your tighter, minding where you had injuries. And as he noticed you begin to sob harder, his tail wrapped around your leg protectively

" Leona- I mean, Housewarden? " " What? " " Is he alright? " " He'll be fine… but he might need to heal himself. I’ll take 'em to the nurse. " " You better get fixed up yourself, Leona! " " Yeah, yeah… "

🦁 Looking down at your frail form, Leona sighed internally. What did he, a lazy and arrogant second-born prince, do to deserve your caring and comforting self?

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧��⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

Male! Reader ; Reader Helps Heal Others From A Poison-Blast

👑 Vil knew that you cared for others, and he also would scold you whenever you would end up in some bad spots because of your care for others. But this was too far

👑 He understood that other students outside of certain dorms, Pomefiore and Diasomnia, weren’t the best when it comes to handling poisons and other dangerous concoctions, but this was officially topping any kind of incident he had ever seen before

👑 A second-year had accidentally splashed something into their cauldron which resulted in a poisonous 'bomb' that had affected multiple of the members in their class

👑 And because you hated seeing people being hurt, you had jumped in and began to help others with the poison by using your unique magic

👑 This healed them, but resulted in the poisoning affecting you instead

👑 Now Vil was staring down as you as you drank multiple poison-antidotes in order for your body to heal more naturally

" What were you thinking, Y/N? " " I’m sorry, Vil. But, I couldn’t just watch as they suffered from such pain. You know what my weaknesses are! "

👑 Sighing and running his hands down your bandage-wrapped arms as he sat down next to you, Vil began to hum a small tune that he had heard over the radio a few days prior

👑 He knew you liked this song, and you smiled gently and grabbed his hand, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. Vil just looked into your eyes and loosened his stance slightly

" Just- don’t get over your head like this again, please… " " I promise on my collection of photo-albums of us. " " Good answer, Meine Liebe. "

( Meine Liebe = German for "My Love" )

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

Male! Reader ; Healing Yuu From Leona’s Overblot

🐉 Malleus was not amused when you jumped into the battle against Leona’s overblot state and began to try healing others, as he knew how dangerous your unique magic was to yourself

🐉 He then began to use his magic to levitate others into the healer’s direction, but he tried to get them away from you

🐉 Unfortunately, you had found the injure-ridden magicless prefect, Yuu Sei, on the ground and you began to use your magic faster than Riddle would be to behead someone for taking his strawberry tart

🐉 He looked around and noticed that Yuu was waking as your once-clean frame was being tattered with bruises and scratches alike all from the human

🐉 When he finally was able to pull you away from everyone else, he began to use his own magic to heal you, his eyebrows furrowed as he silently worked away on each cut, bruise, and injury alike

🐉 Once finished, he looked into your eyes and sighed deeply before embracing you tightly as he burrowed his face into your neck and took in your scent

" Why…? " " Why what, Mal? " " Why risk your own life for a human's? " " You and I both know that Yuu has value. One beyond many of us', they make me want to protect them more than any other mortal, well- besides Sebek and Silver, I suppose. "

🐉 He watched as you began to debate with yourself as your injuries faded away second-by-second. A small smile overtook his features as he hugged you again and you embraced him back

" I love you, my Healing Beauty. " " And I love you, my Darling Prince. "

( Men can be beautiful too. Bite me. )

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

Male! Reader ; Healing Him During the Fae v. Human War

🦇 Groaning in pain as he held his side while you hid beside him, Lilia felt the slight amount of blood begin to fall from his midsection. These damned mortals were getting more powerful by the second

🦇 Hopefully the others were doing just as well as before… he cannot afford to lose any more men in this treacherous war

🦇 He turned as he heard you move and roll your uniform’s sleeves up as you pushed your butterfly mask aside and began to chant your small unique spell’s name

" Y/N… what- what are you doing?! You know what that damned spell does to you! " " I don’t care at the moment, Lilia. Your health matters more. " " Bullshit! Y/N, I’ll be fine, just step aside and let me- " " Lilia. As your spouse I will heal you, no matter what. "

🦇 Giving in as you stared at him deadly, Lilia watched as your arms began to glow with many symbols of healing, from ones ranging from those in the burning Savannah to ones in your homeland of Briar Valley

🦇 He then watched as the pain began to fade from his side, but he also noticed how you began to look faint. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling bad

" Love, I'm fine now. The bleeding isn’t as bad as before, it should heal faster… take a break- please. " " Alright… "

🦇 Laying back on the tree, Lilia tore open a satchel that was once thrown aside by one of the previous human soldiers, he ran towards you and began to apply both alcohol to his and yours minor wound that was slightly leaking blood before wrapping them in gauze

" Alright, we should be fine now. Do you feel better, Mango? " " Yeah, thanks Lils. " " No problem, Dearest. "

( Fun facts: Butterflies symbolize rebirth, transformation, and the delicate balance between life and death & Mangos are one of a bat’s favorite fruits )

[winterrrnight]

12 with rafe I'm begging 😔😔

you ask and I shall deliver 🫡 I hope you like this nada <3 do let me know your views on this! 🩷

especially you

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x gn!reader

SUMMARY: there are some things Rafe will do especially just for you.

WARNINGS: established relationship, very much hates everyone but you, the reader is a perfectionist - in constant need of academic validation (it is me guys 😓), fluff, usage of nicknames like babe, baby, sweetheart, minimal swearing

EDITH SPEAKS: this is kind of self indulgent 😀 need me a man who does this for me 😭😭 anyways, yes yes we are kickstarting the fics for the 600 celly! If you were there for my 300 celly, I know how late I got with those requests and I am so sorry about that 🥲 I promise I will try my best to not let that happen this time 🥲

please reblog if you liked reading this! feedback is always appreciated ⛲

a lil note: the song below is used just as the title, and its lyrics aren't used as an inspiration.

PROMPT REQUESTED: “C’mere. Sit down. Tell me what’s going on.”

600 followers celebration || navigation

You sigh as you shut your laptop close, maybe a little too aggressively for your liking, but honestly, you couldn’t care less. You slump your head on the kitchen island in your arms, a headache already starting to creep in your head.

It’s barely week three in your new semester and you’re already piled upon with readings over readings, essays over essays, assignments over assignments, and you barely have any time with yourself or your boyfriend.

“What the actual fuck Kelce!” He groans. “Get your shit together man!” This is just the bare minimum of what he is actually saying. It doesn’t help your situation though, your headache only pulsating more harshly, making you groan in pain.

Speaking of your boyfriend, he’s sitting in the living room, headphones in as he almost yells into the microphone, as his thumbs run rapidly over the controls of the controller gripped tightly in his hands. Curse words followed by his friends’ names leave his lips, as his gaze is fixated on the screen in front of him.

You sigh as you look at him. He does not go to university because just as he graduated high school, his father passed his business onto him.

“No no no no no no!” He yells, “god what the fuck is wrong with you guys?”

His deep voice booms in your ear, and you squeeze your eyes shut, holding your head in your hands as you gently press your temples, but it does not work; Rafe’s voice level only increases with time, and it bothers you more and more.

“Rafe!” You yell out completely exasperated, from your place in the kitchen island. He doesn’t even look at you, and you realize you weren’t loud enough for your voice to penetrate through his headphones.

You get up from your chair and saunter over to Rafe, gripping his headphones and yanking them off. “Shut up!” You snap, as you toss his headphones to the side and leave the living room, stomping off to your bedroom.

Rafe watches you go away, completely stunned. He takes a deep breath before picking up his headphones. “We’re pausing it for now, and no, I will not hear any shit from either of you,” He fumes in the microphone and shuts off the game before making his way to the bedroom. As he enters inside quietly, he sees you are standing in the balcony, leaning against the railing as you look out, a stressed look on your face.

“Babe,” he says softly as he steps out to the balcony, wrapping an arm around your waist. “What's wrong?”

“Nothin’,” you mutter under your breath, not tearing your eyes away from the sky stretched out in front of you to look at him.

When he detects your reluctance to talk, or to even lean into his touch, he lets out a sigh, his arm dropping back to his side as he sits down on one of the chairs in the balcony.

A few moments pass in utter silence, as all you both here is the sound of the birds chirping in the distance, cars rushing past the streets, and the soft breeze blowing against your skin.

Your back is towards him as he watches you stand next to the railing; he can tell you are completely tense from your stance, the way your shoulders aren’t relaxed, your jaw is clenched a bit, and you are gripping the railing a little too lightly.

“Baby…” he calls out softly, “C’mere. Sit down. Tell me what’s going on.” He says. He’s determined to not let you go unspoken this time, ready to even pull you into his arms if needed.

To his surprise, you don’t deny as you trod to the empty chair next to him and sit down. His arm instantly wraps around your shoulders and he pulls you in his side. He presses a long, yet soft kiss on your forehead, rubbing your arm in a soothing motion.

“I’m sorry if I was too loud baby,” he mumbles against your hairline, “I absolutely didn’t mean to bother you so much,”

You let out a deep exhale as you shake your head. “It’s okay Rafe, I was just… too tense already and that just put me over the edge, I guess,” you murmur softly.

“What’s been keeping you tense then hm?” He asks, pressing another kiss to your forehead, his feeble attempt to comfort you as much as he can.

“This semester’s already kicking my ass,” You sigh. “I already have a shit ton of work to do, and it’s just the third week? I spend all my day doing this shit and I still can’t catch up with it. I barely have time for myself or to spend with you,”

Rafe’s grip tightens a bit on you as he pulls you in closer to himself. “You know I would typically say that it doesn’t matter, don’t stress too much, don’t work so hard blah blah blah, but I know you well enough to know it doesn’t work on you,” he says and he sees a small smile form on your face. ���No matter what I’ll say, you will work hard and put in 120% effort for something which doesn’t even count that much for your grade. And you know how much I appreciate that about you, you’re insanely hard working,” a small smile on his lips as his other hand holds onto yours.

“But you know what I can do?” He continues. “I can take great care of you. You don’t have to worry about your meals; I’ll take care of them. I’ll watch a movie, give you kisses and cuddles, or do anything you want when you take a break; which, by the way, I’ll make sure you take. Whenever I see the moment, I’ll take you out wherever you want to go. I don’t want you to take unnecessary stress of the new semester sweetheart, because I know you’ll make it through it okay? You 100% will, I know that.”

You turn to look at him, a softened look in your eye. All his words slowly sink in you, and you realize you don’t have to take as much pressure of the new semester as you were. You rest your head on his shoulder and softly nod. “Thank you Rafe…” you whisper.

“There’s nothing to thank me for you sweetheart, I am your boyfriend, this is the least I can do,” he smiles as he presses another kiss to your forehead.

You slowly feel your tensions melt away as you sit with Rafe on your balcony under the warm afternoon sun, your body muscles relaxing and the stress laying heavy on your mind gradually withering away.

This is one of the moments where you realize Rafe’s the one.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @lunalitva @sadfury @newsies-pape-girl @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae @moneymaybank @spideysimpossiblegirl @the-tortured-poets-depxrtment

[houseofripley]

hello :) I have fanfic idea. So how about reader comes over to Rhea’s house and it’s snowing so reader has to stay longer because of the snow storm but Rhea pulls out the game dunk desires (a spicy card game) and things get heated ;) (PLZ SMUT AND FLUFF ENDING🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾) anyways bye bye 👋

Locked In.

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT, Thigh Riding, Spanking, Strap-On Riding, Strapwarming, Slight Manipulation??? WORD COUNT: 2,773 A/N: literally started working on this the second i saw this. loved this prompt

“Hello hello! I’m here!” You called out as you let yourself into your friend Rhea’s home. “You better not be robbing me, I have a knife!” Rhea joked from the kitchen.

You approached the woman finishing cutting up a watermelon. “You need to learn how to lock your door Rhe-Rhe.” Rhea set her knife down and turned to face your direction, flexing her arms. “Have you seen these guns? No one could stand a chance,” she said before putting the chopped up fruit in a bowl. “Also I left it unlocked for you, it’s fucking freezing out there. I didn't wanna make you wait in the cold.”

“What a gentleman,” You teased as you patted her back. The both of you made your way into the living room before plopping yourselves into the couch. “I swear people completely forget how to drive the second they see a couple of snowflakes.” You grumbled while a chuckle came from Rhea.

The two of you had spent the past few months spending bits of your free time together growing your friendship closer. But the past few weeks Rhea had been begging you to come to her place  nearly everyday. She also became more possessive over you, you noticed how jealous she got two nights ago when you went out with your group of friends. Rhea only talked to you the entire night and would tense up whenever you spoke to anyone other than her.

“Now why was I dragged to your humble abode today?” You questioned as the snow fell outside the large window several feet behind you. Rhea gave you a big cheesy smile before saying “Board games!”

You groaned “Will you ever get bored of forcing me to play your old people games everyday?” You complained to the woman. “You know you love it,” Rhea claimed before adding on “I just want to finish one last episode of my show.” As Rhea began watching her show, you stared at the dark twilight outside.

Both of you were soon disrupted by a weather alert blurting from the TV. You turned away from the window and looked over at Rhea whose eyes were glued to the TV screen, then turned your attention to the weather alert reading “Winter Storm – Blizzard Warning: In Effect 6 PM Through 11 AM – No Travel Advised.”

“Shit,” You mumbled looking at your watch. 5:28 PM. “I should get out of here before the roads get too fucked.” You said as you stood up. Rhea quickly grabbed your hand “No stay, I don’t want you driving out there. The roads are probably slippery already, I’d feel awful if I made you go home in this weather.” She coaxed.

“I’ll be okay Rhea, I really don’t wanna be a burden.” You said looking down at her. “I want you to stay.” Rhea stated, grabbing your other hand. The pair of you studied each other's faces before you nodded “If you insist…” You mumbled while the woman smiled and let go of your hands.

As the last few minutes of Rhea’s show played she made her way to the kitchen and grabbed a handful of beer bottles to place on the coffee table. “If we're gonna be stuck here we gotta at least get buzzed.” Rhea voiced as she made her way to her closet which housed all her games. 

You sat on the floor in front of the sofa as Rhea brought back an assortment of Monopoly, Skip-bo, and Connect 4.

“You ready to get your ass beat?” Rhea taunted, causing you to roll your eyes. “In your dreams, Ripley.” You bantered. Rhea winked at you before taking a swig of her beer. 

The woman had beat you in both Monopoly and Skip-Bo. “I need some damn wine.” You grumbled as you stood up.

You poured two glasses of the first red wine you noticed then brought them out to the living room. “Thank you, beautiful.” Rhea smirked, her compliment catching you by surprise leading your cheeks to flush. 

“You’re cheating!” Rhea accused after multiple rounds of her losing to you in Connect 4. You made a sarcastic angry expression “It’s Connect 4 how would I cheat!?” You snickered out. “It’s gotta be rigged!” She swore. “Rhe-Rhe it’s a piece of plastic I promise it's not rigged, also it’s not my fault I’m always two steps ahead of you.” You said playfully patting her thigh. 

“Not always,” Rhea muttered under her breath. You shot her a confused look, “Hm?” You hummed out. “Ah nothin’ you go pick the next game.” 

Rhea scootched back onto the sofa as she watched you make your way to the closet. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion once you spotted a sealed box. You walked back to Rhea, sitting down next to her holding the box she bought just hours before you came over. 

It was a card game that you never heard of, ‘Drunk Desires’ was labeled on the plain black box. “I have literally never heard of this…” You commented, Rhea gave you a look of disbelief before voicing a simple “Seriously?” 

“What is it? Teach me how to play!” You urged, assuming it was a game comparable to Cards Against Humanity. “Oh I’ll teach you how to play,” She purred out as she opened the box. “All you have to do is draw a card and do what it tells you, if you don’t you have to take a drink…but only draw the white cards first.” Rhea instructed, scooting closer to you.

The game seemed simple enough so you took a hold of the white card on top of the deck.

“Tell your game partner what you adore most about them.” You read out, you looked at Rhea smiling. “Ummm, I like your constant attitude…and big strong muscles.” You giggled out. “Oh yeah?” Rhea took a loose grip of your upper arm, her thumb running up and down your skin caused your hairs to stick up.

Rhea used her free hand to pick up a card that read ‘Tell your game partner a dirty secret.’ “I think my little secret will remain a secret until later,” She grinned.

“Now tell me why I can’t know now?” You pushed. 

“I'll tell you later…I promise” Rhea offered. “Hmm, you gotta drink and tell me later.” You persuaded her, she shrugged before taking a sip of her wine.

You both took turns pulling seemingly simple yet flirty cards, you both had answered nearly every question. The drinks you both previously consumed had obviously built  onto the tension the two of you had building over the past few months. 

Rhea’s hand slid onto your thigh as she urged you to grab a black card. “Have a three minute kissing contest, the winner drinks.” You stuttered looking over at Rhea, the both of you staring into each other's eyes. Your breath hitched slightly, you weren't expecting the game to take a twist down this road. “I-I’m sorry, you can take a drink if you don't want to, no need to worry.” Rhea assured you.

“No, I want to.” You confessed quietly as you slowly straddled the buff woman. Rhea grinned, “You have no idea how fucked up I am over you,” Rhea whispered as you rested your forehead against hers.

“Fuck, what type of game have you gotten me into…” You muttered, your hands gripping on Rhea’s shoulders. Lust had taken control of the both of you. You weren't sure who dived into the other first, but the one thing you were sure about is how intoxicating that first taste of your closest friend was.

Messy kisses worked to sync together while Rhea’s hands explored your hips. Both of your tongues mashed together while light groans escaped the back of your throat when Rhea began grinding your hips against her lap. Your hands found their way tangled into Rhea’s hair as her tongue investigated your mouth.

Rhea’s lips traveled down from your jawline to your neck, her teeth bit down on your sensitive skin before pulling away licking her lips. You could tell Rhea had been waiting ages for this. “I think we both deserve a drink for that.” Rhea murmured after prying herself off of you. 

Once you had both set your glasses down you reached over to grab Rhea a card. Rhea bit down on her lip before reading “Both you and your partner must remove a clothing item of the other's choice.” She paused for a moment, “Let’s get you out of those pants, pretty girl.” You obeyed and stood up from her lap, you let Rhea pull the waistband down and off your legs. Her hands caressing your legs for a few moments as she admired you.

You eagerly pulled the woman's shirt off before tossing it onto the opposite end of the sofa. “We have all night sweetheart, what are you in such a hurry for hm?” Rhea teased.

You bent over, grabbing your second black card that read ‘Go into another room and send a naughty selfie to your partner.” Protecting the card in your hand you let the woman know that you’ll be right back before hurrying off to her bathroom.

Once locked in the bathroom you slipped your hoodie and shirt off. You leaned against the wall posing and snapped a photo of your body in the mirror before sending it to Rhea. You added a text simply stating “Missing you in here. :(“

You knew your message had been seen when you heard a yell from the other room, “Get your ass back in here!” Rhea demanded. You decided to stay inside the bathroom, curious as to how she’d take it. “I know you heard me, I don’t like waiting.” The woman's voice approached.  

Rhea had pulled her next card and slid it under the door. ‘Take your partner’s underwear off without using hands.’ was displayed. “You got two options, sweetheart. You could come out now and have some fun with me or you can stay in there and I’ll go to bed without you.” She threatened.

You reluctantly opened the door, Rhea caught you by surprise as she threw you over her shoulder. “Good choice.” She mumbled out.

“Now be a good girl for me and you’ll get what you need.” The woman warned you as she laid you back into the sofa. “I’ll be the best girl for you.” You promised as she kneeled in between your legs. Her lips smirked while kissing on your inner thighs, a thread of whimpers escaped from your throat. She began to bite and pull at your panties, using her hands to keep your legs open for her. As your panties fell to your ankles, Rhea’s finger struck a single swipe up your folds, causing you to yelp out. “Such a sweet girl…” Rhea stated, licking her finger. 

A new card was handed to you as Rhea sat down. You flipped the card around to show the woman. ‘Grind on your partner's thigh for two minutes.’ It read. Rhea spread her legs apart as you settled yourself onto her left leg. ”Atta girl” She hummed.  A moaned “Shit Rhea'' left your mouth once your bare core began rocking against the fabric of the woman’s jeans. The two of you connected your lips as you whimpered into Rhea’s mouth, her hands traveling around your back.

Rhea’s hands got to work unclasping your bra, sliding it down your shoulders, and discarding it.

“Such a wet girl for me,” Rhea pulled away from your lips as she muttered while your sweetness leaked through her jeans.

You both knew you were past the point of no return. You needed each other…and you needed each other fast. 

You whimpered as Rhea pulled you up off her leg. “Shh, give me one second and I promise I’ll make you feel so good.” She reassured you while tugging off her jeans to reveal she had been packing the whole night. Rhea knew tonight was gonna be the night you finally screamed her name.

“Come sit on my cock baby.” Rhea murmured, helping you align your hips with hers. Your head fell back as you began sinking onto her. A whispered “Rhea,” came from your mouth as you settled at the bottom of her strap. You slowly rocked your hips back and forth as you let your walls adjust to her size. 

As you began slowly bouncing up and down her you threw your head into Rhea’s shoulder. Your hands clinged to the woman’s biceps. “So big…Rhea” You whined out, your nails digging into Rhea’s skin.

“Fuck!” Rhea groaned under her breath. “Taking me like such a good girl.” She complimented while her hands guided your hips to bounce faster. Your hands lifted Rhea’s bra off her chest. Whimpers filled the room while your hips traveled up and down Rhea’s length.

“That’s it…so good.” Rhea quietly reassured you. She did not expect how sensitive you’d be, the smallest movements leaving you overwhelmed. 

Tears formed in your eyes as Rhea’s hands held you down, forcing you to rock your hips against her. You moaned against the woman’s shoulder, your clit rubbing against the leather of her strap-on. “Feels so good doesn't it baby,” Rhea comforted.

 Your teeth clamped down on her shoulder once her hands guided you to bounce on her length again. “I know princess,” was said before a kiss was planted on your forehead. “You’re doing so good for me.” Was whispered in your ear. A loud yelp came from you as Rhea’s hands striked down on your ass.

Rhea’s hands tightly gripped your ass leading your hips to rock forward and backward as you bounced on her. You rested your head against Rhea’s cheek, tears escaping your eyes. Your walls tightened around her as your cries turned to screams. “I need you to cum all over me baby.” Rhea urged you.

“Rhea!! Fuck!” You screeched as your orgasm peaked. “God!” You yelped. Rhea helped stabilize  you once your legs began shaking eventually she let you sink onto her length after your legs gave out.

Rhea’s hands brought your face to match hers, planting a long kiss on your lips while your final tears fell from your eyes. “You were perfect.” She praised, wiping your tears. She let you move your head to rest on her shoulder as you let out a pitiful whimper. “Shhh…it's all okay baby.” She quieted her voice, her fingers tracing in your hair.

The woman let you rest on her as you occasionally delivered weak kisses to her neck. “I got you darling…you have no idea how long I've been waiting to hold you.” She whispered, wrapping her arms around you. After letting you rest a while she lifted your hips off her length, shushing you as you whined. She slipped off her strap before lifting you off the sofa. “We gotta get you in the bath, pretty girl.”

Your back laid against Rhea’s chest while you bathed together whispering sweet nothings. “Hey…what was that secret you were gonna tell me earlier?” Your question broke the comfortable silence.

Rhea laughed before admitting “That wasn’t a real weather alert earlier.” 

“What's that supposed to mean?” She had confused you.

 “It’s some year old year old recording I found. I've been keeping an eye on the forecast and chose today as the perfect day. All I had to do was make sure it was playing before you got here.” Rhea grinned whilst coating your hair with conditioner.

You scoffed out. “And you think all that was easier than asking me on a date?” You teasingly asked. “Where’s the fun in all that?” Rhea quipped.

“You bought that game just for tonight, didn’t you?!” You interrogated Rhea. Her silence told you everything you needed to know. “You bought that game cause you were scared to make a move huh.” You accused. 

“Woah hold on!” Rhea protested, “I was not scared, I just wanted to try something new.” She tried deflecting.

“You’re not fooling me Ripley, you’re a major softie. All clingy and jealous!” You teased. “I am not clingy at all!” Rhea fussed.

“Rhea, we are in the same tub and you are clinging onto me for dear life, what’s your excuse for that, hm?” Rhea tightened her grip on you more “I’m keeping you warm of course!” She chuckled.

You were absolutely right, Rhea was so infatuated with you she wouldn’t let you out of her sight until she had to go back to work a week and a half later. She went as far as trying to beg for you to be able to travel with her. Now that Rhea got to hold you, she never planned on letting go.

[vaaaaaiolet]

A broken backspace key, two rival magazines, and love letters sent through email. It’s the 2000's and Raccoon Mag’s prize photojournalist lands himself a secret admirer. 

You. 

gn / m, fluff, romance via email love letters, how to lose a guy in 10 days-esque, just a cutesy romcom, reader works a stereotypically female job but no pronouns mentioned!

word count: 2.4k // read on ao3

a/n: title inspired by the alicia keys song ofc. thank you to the lovely @kennedysbaby for the prompt inspo and endless support while writing this! this isn't my usual writing style so i'm kinda nervous AHGH but i thought it was cute LMAO. i <3 u!!

From: howtodept@starsweek.com To: lskennedy@raccoonmag.com 

Subject: You Don’t Know My Name

Dear Mr. Kennedy,

I hope this email never finds you well. 

No, no, that came out wrong, I swear! Gosh, I’m not sure how to work the backspace on these new computers. What I mean to say is that I hope this email never finds you.

I’m the new hire for the How To column at STARS Week magazine. They haven’t quite set up an email address with my name yet: I’m using the one readers mail their questions to. It’s a bit of a blessing to not have my name attached to this mortifying message now that I think about it. 

You must be wondering, why does an Agony Aunt columnist from your media rival have your email in the first place? You, the top photojournalist at Raccoon Mag, the highlight of all newsstands. You must think I’m crazy. 

But the thing is that I think you’re simply wonderful.

You visited our office last week. Surely you remember walking into the great big glass doors of the STARS building. Aren’t they glamorous? They make me feel like a hotshot movie journalist when really I just write back to teenage girls and help them pick out the right nail color, or tell middle-aged moms how to dress less like they rolled out of an outdated Sears catalog. I’m eternally grateful to get to work here – Ms. Hunnigan really did a favor taking me on – but I can’t help feeling like a bird with its wings clipped, stuck in a glass cage. I could be doing so much more with my talents. And don’t tell me that I already am; I know my advice articles don’t work because my own mom still wears stripes with polka dots.

Yeesh.

So when you came by last week with your great big camera filled with pictures of all your travels around the world, you caught my eye right away. 

You weren’t wearing a suit like all the other big shots in the STARS office. Mr. Kennedy, you came to what Ms. Hunnigan would consider “the biggest business risk of your life” dressed in a polo and slacks, still looking sharper than our Man of the Month, with not a word extra to say because your photos spoke for themselves.

Mr. Kennedy, I was working my measly little column when I overheard Ms. Hunnigan’s surprise at your refusal to take a dime for the photojournalism you brought to our office. Your manila folder was filled with pictures from a recently hurricane-hit island, one I’m embarrassed to say I only learned of from your spirited tirade. You didn’t care that Raccoon Mag and STARS Week were sworn enemies. All you cared about was combining readers’ donations for disaster relief. I thought it was mighty noble of you.

You didn’t flinch once at Ms. Hunnigan’s unforgiving stare and I know how hard that can be because I got the same one when I asked to switch to a journalism department instead. Ms. Hunnigan isn’t too keen on putting effort where there isn’t turnover. But you came anyway, and you left victorious simply because you wanted to help people that badly.

I think you can assume why I scrapped my article this week about getting over crushes. There’s going to be a horribly empty space in my column if I don’t figure out how to type something other than your name soon. Hence this email. 

(You left your business card on Ms. Hunnigan’s desk, if you’re still wondering how I’m sending this to the right email address. I’m not too shabby at snooping around, in a journalism kind of way, of course.)

I don’t think this counts as getting over a crush. I don’t suppose you have any ideas?

Yours sincerely, You Don’t Know My Name

> Saved as Draft (7/7/2003)

> Continue Saved Draft? YES

From: howtodept@starsweek.com To: lskennedy@raccoonmag.com

Dear Mr. Kennedy,

Did you see the smiles of the children who got their school rebuilt thanks to your disaster relief proposal? I’m sure you did: their pictures, along with all the other photos from the donation effort, got printed front and center on this week’s issue! I nearly sold out the newsstand from all the Raccoon Mag copies I bought the morning they came off the press. Had to hide them from Ms. Hunnigan too; she wasn’t too happy about my less-than-juicy column last week. 

But that’s not for you to worry about, Mr. Kennedy. I’ll figure something else out. Like what color fabric makes your eyes pop, subtle ways to tell a coworker you’re interested in more than just drinks after work, what to eat to look and feel your best in less than two weeks.

On a completely unrelated note, I can’t help but look forward to when you come back to STARS Week in less than a month (according to Ms. Hunnigan’s desk calendar).

You’ve inspired me to get back into journalism; put my degree to use. I didn’t graduate top of my class just to tell people what hairstyle goes with what neckline! I’m clumsy with cameras and not too nifty with technology (I still can’t figure out where that backspace key is!) but I’m a sure hand with a pen. I go to the library after work now and spend hours researching global issues to write about when I get home. My collection of research articles is coming right along. Kind of like your manila folder. I flatter myself.

I wonder what you write, what you read. What makes Leon Kennedy laugh? What does he read before bed, what makes him think? I wonder if we laugh at the same bad jokes. 

Email is a strange mode of communication. There’s an awful lot of dishonesty involved. You get to pick and choose what you leave out. I suppose I don’t get that luxury with my lack of backspace, but it’s the same in conversation when you don’t get to backtrack on what comes out of your mouth. Would it be silly of me to dream that I’m having a conversation with you like this? Through my keyboard?

I’d much rather hear you in conversation, I have to admit. You’ve got a lovely voice. The rest of us are just lucky you decided to use it for good and speak out about the problems of the world despite what may or may not sell (sorry, Ms. Hunnigan). I might even be lucky enough to hear my name fall from your lips one day. Are…oh gosh, this is making me shy. Damn you, backspace key. But I wonder what it feels like to kiss you, Mr. Kennedy. 

I hear tying cherry stems with your tongue makes you a good kisser. I’ll be sure to learn. Maybe if we ever hit the town and we get drinks, I could show you? I’m not even sure what kind of drinks have cherries on top. That’s more a milkshake or ice cream thing. I’d be delighted to get either with you; I even know a trick to cure brain freeze in a second! I hope that’s incentive enough. I’m quite partial to cookie dough if you’d like to share. Not so much if you’re a fan of rum raisin.

And then over ice cream, we could talk about everything under the sun. Your pictures, my writing, bad jokes, good jokes, your favorite rom-coms, important questions like that.

(I’m kidding, promise. The rom-com one is important though. I hope you understand.)

There so much I’d love to talk to you about. But for now, I’m content with sitting in my cubicle in the corner, hiding behind my potted plant and hoping for a glimpse of your golden hair through Ms. Hunnigan’s office doors when you come by. But as all good things must come to an end, here comes the end of this email to my Raccoon Mag Romeo. 

Looking forward to your nonexistent response, You Don’t Know My Name

> Saved as Draft (8/12/2003)

> Continue Saved Draft? YES

From: howtodept@starsweek.com To: lskennedy@raccoonmag.com

Dear Mr. Kennedy,

You used to be in the police academy before you worked for Raccoon Mag? 

Gosh, I hope my snooping doesn’t come off untoward, truly, I don’t mean to – it’s just that you’ve been coming to STARS Week so frequently this month and you didn’t visit in the last few days and…well, I missed seeing you. So it seems I’m remedying that with novice-level stalker work. Er, journalism. 

I’m marvelously impressed by you is all. Your sense of justice runs deeper than I thought. I wonder what made you choose this line of work instead of the force? 

For what it’s worth, digging up your past work introduced me to several fascinating topics. If Ms. Hunnigan lets up on her workload, she might even have time to look at the piece I’ve been drafting all month! You’ve inspired me in more ways than one, Mr. Kennedy, so you understand why I’m eager to see you again in the hope of showing you what I’ve written. I could slip my article into your folder, leave it in an envelope next to the cup of coffee you always let cool on the receptionist’s desk before going into the copy room…

But there might not be a point avoiding you anymore. I’m afraid you’ll run into me sooner than later with the number of errands Ms. Hunnigan sends me on around the office.

Worse yet, I think someone’s caught on to me. 

Claire from Sports is starting to ask about all these emails I type up while my How To assignment of the week sits by its lonesome next to my potted plant. I wish these keyboards weren’t so loud and cranky! They rattle up a storm when I type these emails to you, but turn quiet as mice when it comes time for me to work on my dreadful How Tos. Snitches get stitches, don’t you know?

But I’d never snitch on you, Mr. Kennedy. A tiny part of me hopes you’ve caught on to who hides an extra donut in the fridge for you from our office breakfasts. Rest assured that I can do much better than slightly stale office donuts, though. 

So if that ice cream date doesn’t work out, we could head downtown to Marvin’s on a Thursday for the best chocolate donuts I swear you’ve ever tasted. Thursday is when they bake them up fresh and I know a table by the street where the sunset looks the prettiest. A treat for you and a treat for your camera, how’s that? 

You don’t even know what you’re doing to me. I feel all crazy inside, giddy and smiling over my research like unpaid overtime I’m all too happy to take on. I really hope to show you my article soon. There’s nothing more romantic to a journalist than setting your facts straight next to somebody who smiles like the sun, like you, Mr. Kennedy. I might even dream of my article being printed next to your pictures one day.

But as short as today’s email to you might be, I hope our time together isn’t. The security team is redoing the How To department’s computers after Ms. Hunnigan’s keyboard started acting up – something about manufacturing issues. Remember that pesky backspace key of mine? They’re fixing it later today! 

Actually, they’re fixing it right now. The team’s coming over to my desk, so I’m going to have to enDKJJL

> Send Email? SFHALFNO

> Input detected. Email sending… NJOS NON DON”T SEND 

> Email sent successfully! (9/16/2003)

From: lskennedy@raccoonmag.com To: howtodept@starsweek.org

Subject: RE: You Don’t Know My Name

I’m submitting an answer for July’s How To: how do I get over a crush?

If I’m being honest, I’ve written and rewritten this email a fair number of times. I’m not good with my words. That’s why I take pictures: they say everything I leave unspoken. But it’s also why I’ve grown so fond of a certain How To columnist because they’re not afraid to put their feelings to pen, rather, keyboard. 

It’s just a shame that their name isn’t on any of the sweet emails they sent me. And it’s not like I can just go up to my boss and ask. If I’m their Raccoon Mag Romeo (see what I mean when I say they’ve got a way with words?), they’re the Capulet I’m after. 

So I took a page out of my admirer’s book and went snooping. It’s what a journalist does best, right? 

Marvin’s an old friend of mine. I went to his shop last Thursday to find out who comes for donuts and stays for the sunset. His donuts taste better than the office ones for sure, but there’s something a little sweeter about the thought behind the latter. FYI: my lips are sealed.

All this donut and ice cream business makes me think my admirer’s got a sweet tooth. I’m willing to share any ice cream that isn’t rum raisin either. Cookie dough is a close second to my personal favorite – mint chocolate chip – but that brain freeze trick is enough to convince me to have both. What do you say we try out all the flavors? You might even come across a scoop to write about, you never know. (RE: your question about bad jokes, how was that?)

And last but not least, Claire from STARS Week Sports isn’t too tight-lipped. She was perfectly charming when I asked about any deskmates with clunky keyboards who’ve been quite busy recently, so it really wasn’t that hard to find out who this kind, endearing, and incredibly talented admirer of mine is. 

You needn’t sneak your article into my folder because I found a copy of it on your desk with my name written on the bottom. You say you’ve only been working on this since I came for the disaster relief deal? That’s only two months!

Color me impressed. Ms. Hunnigan would be a fool to miss out on the untapped talent sitting in her How To department, so I think it would be a great idea to bring your article to her together. I’d be honored to straighten out any facts with you, though I doubt there’s much I can add to what you’ve compiled. My camera is at your disposal.

Let’s talk details over those donuts, then? It’s Thursday. I’ll wait by the bench outside the STARS building. I have a feeling it’ll be a nice change from sending emails. 

Yours sincerely (and I do know your name), Leon

(P.S. Personally, I hope this isn’t a crush you need to get over.)

(9/18/2003)

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