#i think about opening requests but then i realize i only wanna write for fire force and dr stone

[joelscruff]

I have a prompt for you: Joel, reader and pillow humping. Do with this what you want 😁

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH YES. (this is short and not proofread don't come for me) i'm also combining this with another request i just got: joel and reader with the sentence “you say it’s big but you take it. ride cowgirl.” from frank ocean pyramids😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 when i say this isn't proofread, i mean it!!! it's probably bad!!! i'm sorry!!!!!!!! i just wanted to write something lmao

you wake in the middle of the night with a fire burning in your tummy. you can barely remember the dream you just had but the lasting effect is evident as you shove your hand down under the blankets and feel your pussy, wet and sticky beneath your fingers. fuck.

joel is fast asleep beside you and you know better than to wake him; he's had trouble sleeping these past few nights and this is the first time in a while that he hasn't been tossing and turning. you don't want to deprive him of that pleasure.

but you don't want to deprive yourself of pleasure either.

you start to rub yourself, scrunching up your face in satisfaction as you give your clit the treatment it deserves, releasing some of that ache and pressure in your belly. but it's not enough; the angle isn't right, the feeling of your fingers. you don't like masturbating, not anymore, not since you met joel and he started keeping you more than satisfied almost every single day. touching yourself has lost its spark and after rubbing your clit for a few moments you realize it's not gonna get you where you need to be.

you sit up, being careful not to jostle joel too much as you grab your pillow and slide off the bed. you place it on the floor, watching from the corner of your eye to make sure he's still sleeping. then, with quick hands, you yank your panties off and settle easily onto the pillow, spreading your legs around it and kneeling on the floor. the coolness of it against your wet heat makes you bite back a whimper.

you dig your hands into the carpet, baring down on the pillow and letting the edge of it slip past your puffy and swollen lips. it rubs perfectly against your clit, foreign enough that it no longer feels like you're getting yourself off.

you turn your head to look at joel, lying there looking peaceful and relaxed as he sleeps through your sudden depravity. he's so handsome, hair grey and tousled against his pillow, forehead and jaw solid and firm, lips parted and slightly wet beneath his scruffy beard and mustache. a few hours ago he'd had that mouth against your pussy, suckling at your clit and fingering your hole until he'd made you come. you keep that image in your head now as you grind against the pillow, soft and supple.

it's only after a few more gyrations that you realize his eyes are suddenly open. you freeze, staring back at him and wondering what he could possibly think of you right now, crouched on the floor like some kind of wild animal while you fuck yourself against a pillow.

"what are you doing, baby?" he murmurs, not moving from his place on the bed.

"i don't know," your face is red but you start to grind against the pillow again, no longer worried about the whimpers bubbling past your lips, "i just wanna come."

he sits up in bed then, pulls back the covers and tugs his boxers down; he's already half hard from watching you, "come here, baby, sit on it."

you scramble up from the floor, leaving your wet pillow behind as you climb back in bed and crawl over to him, pulling yourself up and hovering over his dick. he holds it in place, watches you sink down on it with no preparation whatsoever.

"fuck," he groans, "what a way to wake up."

you're too distracted by the stretch of him to know what to say, squeezing your eyes shut and biting down hard on your lip as his girth stretches your hole. you regret not fingering yourself; why'd you have to go straight for the pillow? his cock feels good inside of you but the burn is almost too much.

"i should've prepped," you whimper, "it kinda hurts."

his brow furrows, "what? baby, why didn't you tell me?" he moves to pull out of you and you bare down on him quickly, shaking your head.

"no, joel, it's a good hurt. it's so big," you look at him with hazy eyes, feeling simultaneously half asleep and wide awake, "and it's getting bigger. fuck." you whine then, a high keening sound that has you wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning in closer, "oh my god, it feels amazing."

he holds you close and lets you get used to his size, growing larger the longer he's inside you. you've taken his cock countless times before but never without him fingering you first, and never when he was only half hard to begin with. the sheer size of him just continues to fill you up the longer you sit there, a deep groan emitting from your throat when he's finally at his peak size.

"oh, fuck," you moan, "okay, fuck me. fuck me." you suddenly feel frantic, lips against his ear as his hands find their familiar place on your back. he hears you loud and clear, immediately fucking up into you and giving you what you need. the head of his cock pounds fervently against your cervix and your eyes roll back, already feeling like you could come at any second.

"what's gotten into you, baby?" he asks between thrusts, gripping you tightly as he bounces you up and down, "you need cock that bad, huh?"

"yours," you whimper, "your cock, no one else's."

"needed it so bad you fucked a pillow," he groans, fucking you faster, "just had to have something touching that needy little pussy. absolutely shameless. does it still hurt, baby?"

"n-no," you shake your head, "doesn't hurt."

he suddenly stops thrusting, stills inside you and leans back against the headboard, "then you do the work for a bit, i'm tired."

"joel," you whine, pulling back to look at him, "that's not fair."

"you woke me up, baby," he whispers, the ghost of a smile on his face, "i was sleeping so good and you woke me up with your pretty little whimpers."

you pout, "it's too big," you're laying it on thick, hoping he'll come around, "i'm tired too, can't do it by myself."

he smiles, "it's not too big, baby. it's made for you," he reaches down and lands a playful smack against your ass, squeezing your cheek tightly, "now ride it."

it takes a few seconds for you to get back into a rhythm but before long you're pulling yourself up and down on his cock, loving the way it slides all the way in and hits the deepest part of you and then pulls all the way out. joel just watches you with sleepy eyes, squeezes your ass and smirks every time you cry out.

he knows when you're close, has seen that expression on your face and felt the way your pussy tightens around him too many times to not know what it means. he reaches down and rubs your clit, smiling when you moan his name and start twitching in his lap.

"there it is," he murmurs, "that's what you wanted."

you're vaguely aware of him finishing a few seconds later, coming inside of you without having to ask; he knows you want it. your legs are shaking when he pulls you off, lays you beside him and strokes your hair. you can feel yourself drifting off again but before you can fall asleep you feel him place his pillow beneath your head.

"but-" you start to protest, opening your eyes again and watching as he leans over you on the bed, reaching down onto the floor for the pillow you'd fucked yourself against only moments ago.

"shhh, go to sleep baby," he whispers, picking it up and placing it on his side of the bed, "i want this one."

[bloomries]

I'm not sure if you write angst or not, but if you do can you write the brothers (separately) and mc get into a big argument like a very heated one and the brothers says something like "im so fucking tired of you blah blah blah the next time i see you better be at your funeral" and then like a few hours later mc either dies or is like almost dead but survives you can pick 🫶🏿🫶🏿 FEEL FREE TO MODIFY(?) MY REQUEST AT ALL !! you don't have to write all of the brothers

regretting his words.

includes : lucifer, mammon, satan, and belphegor.

summary : getting into a fight with ___, him basically telling you he wishes you were dead, but he'll soon find himself regretting those words when you get fatally injured.

warnings : gn! reader. heavy angst. serious & intense arguments. death (reader dies/nearly dies).

note : thank you for the request! i totally didn't cry i did! i don't write angst often, so i'm not sure how good it is but i hope that it suffices! please enjoy!

LUCIFER

You were just happily chatting away, telling Lucifer about your day when he slammed his hands on his desk, standing up abruptly as he glares at you with those terrifying red eyes. "Stop. Speaking." His voice echoes off the walls.

"W- What-"

"I said, stop speaking. Fuck, all you do is talk. I can't wait for the day you finally cease that incessant yapping!" You're too stunned to say anything else, faltering between wanting to cry and to yell, instead Lucifer continues. "Leave, now! And don't come back unless you decide you can be quiet." He points to the door, and you scamper off without a word.

If he had known that would be the last time he got to hear about your day, he would've bit his tongue and set his pen down to listen. However, he stands beside your lifeless body, staring at it with a bitter taste in his mouth. Was this... his fault?

If he hadn't shouted for you to leave, then you wouldn't have left the house, and wouldn't have been attacked by a drunk demon. "H... How- How do we get them back-" He lifts his head to look up at Diavolo, who hesitates.

Oh.

There was no getting you back. "No... W- We brought them back before, we can do it again. Do it again!" He demanded, although when he realized how loud his voice got, he faltered. Yelling, again. Why was he always yelling? He can't remember...

Diavolo leaves, to give Lucifer some time to process and time to say what goodbyes he needs to. The moment the door closes, Lucifer drops to his knees, holding back tears as he lightly holds your hand. "I- I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... Tell me, please. Tell me about your day, I want to hear it. Please." Despite the desperation in his hoarse voice, no words are given back to him, and he realizes he'll have to come to terms with the fact he'll never hear your voice again.

MAMMON

"Get off of me," Mammon shoves you away, sneering at your pleading expression. "If ya don't wanna support me then just go." You knew it would be a hard task, to get the demon of greed to stop gambling, but you had tried relentlessly either way.

"Mammon, I just think-"

"Here we go again, I don't wanna hear your naggin' again, 'kay?" You rush to grab hold of his arm, holding him back from leaving.

"Please, just stay in and-"

"Fuck, can you get off? I'm so fuckin' tired of this shit," His eyes glowed as he glared down at you, anger coursing through his veins, "I don't wanna see ya again, not less it's at your funeral, got it? Now just leave me be," He finally shook you off and left, slamming the door and leaving you in darkness.

Darkness that Mammon would soon return to, only the apartment he left you at was set ablaze. His heart was hammering in his chest as he rushed past the crowd, swerving through the fire despite the cries from the crowd for him to stop.

Pushing open the door, his heart hammered in his chest as he seen you, on the ground. He couldn't care about the smoke, even as he hacks his lungs out, as he checks your vitals desperately.

You were still alive, although barely. As he picks you up, a paper falls out of your hand. He picks it up and his world stops moving.

'Next time we'll kill them. Pay your debts.' He knew exactly who it was from, those damned witches. Cursing under his breath, he carries you out of the burning building, and on the ride to the hospital, he's blubbering apology after apology, begging for your forgiveness, even though you've yet to wake.

SATAN

"You can't do anything right, can you?" Satan hisses out, snatching the book in your hand away from you. You thought you'd try and be helpful, to organize his books for him since it had gotten so messy, but instead you were met with his fury. "Damn it, you messed everything up!" He groans at the sight of his books being put back in their place. He had a system! And you ruined it.

"I have to reorganize all of this now!" He swiped all the books you had put on the shelf off, them all clattering to the ground with heavy thuds. You slowly backed yourself towards the door. "The only thing you knew how to do right was die." The memory of dying by his brothers hand was painful, but nearly as painful as his words.

You choke on a sob, tears spilling down your cheeks. "I- I'm sorry," You whimper out, before leaving. It takes Satan a few hours to calm down, and once he does, he feels incredibly guilty. He should apologize, he decides, embarrassed as he opens the door- only to be met with a frantic household.

"Satan! There you are! What the hell!" Mammon is the first to notice Satan and his confusion.

"What's going on?" Satan asks, peering down the hall. "Where is [Y/n]?" Mammon falters, awkwardly shifting in place.

"No one told you...?" Satan gave him a look that read 'told-me-what?' and Mammon frowns, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"They got into an accident. We're all heading to the hospital but..." Satan's heart sinks at the grim look Mammon holds. "It doesn't sound good, s- so hurry!"

An accident? You got into an accident? He doesn't bother to wait for his brothers, rushing to where you're being held, and when he gets to you... Your body is bruised and battered, and your vitals are weak but at the very least stable.

"No... Please, no..." He takes your hand in his, "Y- You have to wake up, okay? So I can apologize properly, so you can hate him. I need you to wake up and hate me, okay? Curse me, hex me, I don't care just wake up..." He holds back the bile crawling up his throat. "Don't die, I can't... I didn't mean it. I can't lose you, so please... Don't die."

BELPHEGOR

"Damn it, when you came back I should've just killed you again." He grumbled, swatting your hand away. He rolls over in his bed, his back facing you. "Stupid humans, good for nothin'..." Belphegor grumbles, closing his eyes. He just wants to sleep now.

"You're so mean..." You hold back tears, going to leave. "I'm not gonna bother to ask you if you wanna join ever again!" You huff, and he rolls his eyes, snuggling further into his bed.

"Don' care, never talk to me again for all I care." With that, you left (promptly slamming the door) and he fell asleep without a care.

And it's not until he's being shaken that he wakes again. "Damn it, wake up, Belphie..."

"Ugh, I thought you said you weren't gonna talk to me anymore," He groans, slapping at the hand shaking him. Except, as he wakes up some more, he realizes it's not your voice but Asmodeus. "Huh? Oh, I thought you were..." Belphie's words die in his throat at the tear-snot drenched face Asmodeus had. "What-"

"You idiot!" Asmodeus shrieks, "Do you even know what's going on? Of course you don't!" Belphie rolls his eyes, thinking Asmo is being dramatic again.

"I don't have time for this-"

"They died." Belphegor freezes, his blood running cold. "They died, and it's all your fault! If you had just joined us, then that dumbass demon would've been too scared to approach 'em, and wouldn't have hurt 'em!" Wait hold on... You died? No, this had to be some dumb prank, right? Right!?

"Asmo, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"Come downstairs and see for yourself!" Belphie follows apprehensively, and sure enough, there you lay, in your bed as if you were asleep, but you weren't. He couldn't hear your heart, that heartbeat that always lulled him into his most peaceful slumbers.

"No, not again..." His hands were shaking as he approached you, "How could I... I did... this?" He looks at his brothers, who shamefully turn away from his gaze. "No, I... I was just sleeping... I..." Tears spill down his cheeks. Curses and shouts erupt from him as he flips your desk, throwing memorabilia, and the such- energy his brothers haven't seen from him in quite some time. It was going to be a while before he accepted your death, once again dying because of him— And this time, there was no reset option.

[moonstruckme]

Hiiii! Saw that you had a Carmy Berzatto fic and that you didn't mind requests soooo 👀 if you're feeling inspired, would you be down to write a reverse!comfort fic of the reader comforting Camry after one of his nightmare/sleepwalking episodes? Or could also be just them comforting him in general idk, I just want that boy to have love 😭

Love your fics!

Hi, thank you for requesting! I want him to have love too :') I set this during season 1 when he sleepwalks and almost sets his kitchen on fire and just sort of put reader into that scenario, hope that's alright!

cw: fire, nightmare/sleepwalking, implied ptsd

Carmy Berzatto x fem!reader ♡ 558 words

“Carmy?” You come into the kitchen bleary-eyed and sluggish. Then the smoke alarm starts beeping, and you come awake all at once. 

“Carm.” You open the window. Your boyfriend is moving a flaming pan on the stove with practiced, robotic movements. “Carm, Carm!” 

Your fingers wrap around his wrist, meaning to pull his grip off the pan, and Carmy jolts awake with a petrified inhale. You bite down on your lip as he steps backward onto your foot. 

“It’s okay.” You reach around him to shut off the stove before turning him around by his shoulders. Hug him with one arm, tight, the way he likes, while using the other to toss the pan into the sink. Whatever he’d been burning sizzles as the flame dies out. “It’s okay.” 

“Shit,” Carmy breathes. 

“It’s okay. You’re at home.”

“Shit.” 

“I know, just take a breath. Everything is fine.” 

“I know.” He’s stiff in your arms. “I—fuck, no I don’t. That wasn’t fine.” 

“Yeah, it was, Carm.” You soften your voice, trying to calm yourself down for the both of you. Your hand coasts up between his shoulder blades, petting down the curling hairs at his nape. “It was fine, because we’re still okay. Nobody got hurt. The apartment is fine. It’s all good.” 

You feel it slowly, the way the tension seeps out of Carmy’s shoulders and into his hands, fisting in the back of your nightshirt. You hug him tighter. He takes the cue, squeezing you to him. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. He sounds tired, more tired than he did when he first woke up, like you’re more restful than sleep. Your heart throbs. “I fucked up.” 

“Not really. Your unconscious sort of fucked up, a little. But I don’t think that’s on you. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” 

The response comes too quick, automatic and you both realize it. You don’t press him. Carmy lets his head drop against your shoulder, and you tighten the hug around the breath he lets out. 

“Like I said. Everything is fine.” 

“It’s kind of not fine, though, right?” Your boyfriend sounds worried. “Like, I probably shouldn’t be setting shit on fire in the middle of the night.”

“Mm, debatable.” You start to inch away, waiting for Carmy’s grip to loosen before letting him go. “You wanna know what I think?” 

“Sure.” 

You try on a smile, leaning back against the counter. Smoke still clouds the ceiling. “I don’t think you really wanna know what I think.” 

Carmy’s eyes warm. It’s the best you’re gonna get. Your boyfriend is a serious creature; when he’s in a mood it’s impossible to coax a smile from him, but humor can still help him to relax, if only slightly. 

“Probably not,” he plays along, “but tell me anyway.” 

You take his hands, working them open with your fingers in between his, and pull him towards you for a kiss. “I think,” you say, “that you should probably go to that thing Nat’s been bugging you about.” 

Carmy’s shoulder’s sag with reluctance, but there’s acquiescence in there, too. 

“And,” you go on, “after that, we can go hunt down the psycho who made you almost light our kitchen on fire, vigilante style.” 

Carmy makes a humphing sound, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. It’s not a smile, but that’s okay; it’s just as good. 

[dragon-watcher03]

If your requests are open can I PLEASE request flirty dialog with Smoke, Scorpion, Reptile, and Sub-Zero where the reader is an assailing sent to murder them 😻

Sure👍

Mk1 men x Assassin! Reader who was sent to kill them

Flirty Intro dialogue

Ft. The Lin Kuei trio and Reptile

Note: thank you for the request mate. I'll be making a list on what fandoms I'll do and what I'll write. Also the reader will be female and have the copying powers like usual.

Scorpion: You've been sent to kill me?

Y/n: Yeah, but I might have to give them their money back.

Scorpion: I'm not surprised a woman such as you is so powerful and deadly.

Y/n: I didn't expect the man I was supposed to kill was so handsome, but here we are

Scorpion: You alight a fire in me that can never be snuffed out.

Y/n: laughs You think flirting is gonna stop me from doing my job?

Y/n: Johnny is making a movie about us?

Scorpion: Apparently our relationship dynamic has caught his eye.

Y/n: How's the name 'little flame' sound?

Scorpion: As long as I can call you 'dearest'.

Y/n: You seem to have no interest in the fact that I was sent to kill you...

Scorpion: When my Assassin is so beautiful, how could I complain?

Sub-zero: It seems like they finally chose a good Assassin to kill me.

Y/n: You've got spunk, I like that.

Sub-zero: If death looked like you, then I would've died a long time ago.

Y/n: I never took you as one to flirt.

Sub-zero: Let's test your kombat abilities, lovely.

Y/n: Oh please, be as rough as you want with me.

Y/n: That cold heart of yours looks easy to crush.

Sub-zero: Yet you decided to melt it instead?

Y/n: So tell me, did I live up to you expectations?

Sub-zero: Oh lovely, you exceeded them.

Y/n: I just love this little game of cat and mouse we have going on.

Sub-zero: The only game I'll ever enjoy, lovely.

Smoke: Why would someone want me dead?

Y/n: Probably because they're jealous of how much I like you.

Smoke: I must be a lucky man if they sent a beautiful woman like you to kill me.

Y/n: It seems like Cage is rubbing off on you.

Smoke: Okay, since when did you start calling me "angel"!?

Y/n: laughs The moment I layed my eyes on you.

Y/n: So... The King of Smoke huh?

Smoke: You heard that?!

Y/n: You wanna go to Madam Bo's after this?

Smoke: Sure! Wait, did you just ask me out?

Y/n: Wow, look at you being all cute and handsome at the same time.

Smoke: I-uh w-well... Thanks.

Reptile: An assassin? And a hot one no less?

Y/n: You realize I'm supposed to kill you, right?

Reptile: Woah, didn't know death was so gorgeous...

Y/n: Alright, calm down cowboy.

Reptile: I wonder why you decided to become an assassin in the first place.

Y/n: So I can meet handsome guys like you.

Y/n: Your shape-shifting is getting annoying.

Reptile: Oh, I'm sorry, would you rather me use it to please you instead?

Y/n: Why are you so infatuated with me? I'm literally supposed to kill you.

Reptile: The fact you haven't yet is what drew me to you, M'lady.

Y/n: Your eyes are really pretty, mind if I carve them out of your dead body?

Reptile: chuckles What if our kids had them instead?

[delwrites]

Hey 😚 i saw you were open to request so here i am haha but totally fine if you wanna skip it tho

Ive been really into friends to secret lover trope lately

Could you write a james x reader were childhood friend and around their sixth year in hogwarts they realized their feeling and they started to secretly dating and no one knows!

The story could focus on how they got caught? Maybe a slip up during an argument? Or that reader looks so beautiful james just couldn’t help it? Or just plain old getting caught making out in the broom closet? 😅

Hey angel, thanks so much for the request! <3

Having been friends with James since your meeting him in your guys’ first year, you pride yourself on knowing all of his little habits, able to read him like a book. So when you were curled up on the sofa, himself sprawled out across the armchair beside you huffing and puffing away, it was more than obvious to you that something was up.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” you ask, turning your body as best you can to fully face him, brows creasing as you do so. He only hums inquisitively at this, refusing to look at you as he appears to find his own hands much more interesting, fidgeting away.

“Seriously, Jamie, what’s up?” At your further questioning, he lets out one big sigh as he swings his legs over from where they had been previously stretched out over the handles of the armchair, now sat how the design permitted. 

“Sirius said something to me today, got me thinking…” Realising that that was all he was willing to give you right now, you spin back around with your own huff, hugging one of the common room cushions to your chest. You know James was never too good with words, so a lot of the time you’d appreciate his choosing to stay quiet instead of stumbling over thoughts he could never fully get across.

“Hey, love?” you hum in response, eyes trained on the fire dancing before you. James’ presence always comforted you, and that paired with the warmth emanating before you made your eyes droop more than you’d like to admit. 

“Would you like to go to Hogsmead with me this weekend?”

“Oh, sure” you reply, letting a dopey smile overtake your face. “We can invite Frank and Alice, I��ve been meaning to get her back for coffee-”

“No, darling, I meant just us two?” The implication made you suck in a breath, head whipping round to study any change in his features.

“You mean like.. Like a date?” 

He smiles at you, a heartwarming grin that makes your stomach flip. You’re not too sure where this sudden taking to you has come from, you’d always thought you’d stay in the friend zone forever, doomed to an unrequited love from the most oblivious man you’ve ever known. Of course, your friends had tried to convince you otherwise. Mary would nudge you gently every time she caught James staring at you, to which you’d always brush her off one way or another, making up excuses so as to not get your hopes up. 

Who would’ve guessed that all this time, he was thinking the same about you?

You had both agreed to not tell anyone about your date until you had figured stuff out between the two of you, wanting to be secure in what the other was feeling before going public with anything. It seemed the most sensible thing to do.

But when the day of the date came, you found yourself frustrated at not being able to tell anyone. No one to help pick an outfit out, no one to help you with your hair, no one to talk to. As much as you hated it, you made a promise to James.

 There was a close call where he dragged you by your wrist into a dingy alleyway after having spotted Dorcas as she left a quaint bookshop, holding you against a wall with a finger pressed to his lip in a hush motion, hand placed on your hip to keep you still and steady, lest you run out and make yourselves known. To say the whole ordeal made your heart skip a beat would’ve been an understatement, and the sneaking around was absolutely riveting. 

So you found that what was even more frustrating, was not being able to tell anyone how good the date went. He had greeted you with a bouquet of flowers, charm placed on them to never wilt as well. He had been a gentleman the whole afternoon (he normally is anyway, but even more so this time). He had held every door open for you, even pulling out your chair for you, and paid for the whole ordeal. You felt so safe with him walking next to you, a certain pride overcoming you knowing that he liked you, and you liked him, and gosh he liked you. It was overwhelming and you longed for someone to share it with. But James had your word, and the last thing you wanted to do was mess things up with him. So, you kept your mouth shut, painful as it was.

The next few weeks consisted of you sneaking around everywhere, and although it started off as exciting, you were really starting to get tired of keeping such a daunting secret from your closest friends. There was a lot of sneaking out after curfew to have midnight picnics on the astronomy tower, consisting of snacks James had nabbed from the Great Hall during dinner. A lot of sneaking off with the promise of the bathroom on your lips to professors, instead meeting up just to get these little snippets of alone time with each other, before any of your friends could catch on, let alone someone like Minnie. 

You thought finally going on dates with James Potter would be a good thing, but you came to find that you hated it. Not the dates, they were always amazing. They always made you forget how much you disliked sneaking around, almost making it all worth it. He was amazing, and kind, and funny and gosh you liked him so very much, but the lack of sleep was starting to catch up to you, making you much more irritable than normal. 

Every time you’d sit gathered in the common room with all your friends and who you wished to be your boyfriend, all you’d want is to openly hold his hand, openly admire how good he looked in that one quidditch jumper, and oh wow, to openly kiss him. 

To be fair, he hadn’t even secretly kissed you yet. 

So when you heard Sirius talking to James in the Great Hall about a Hufflepuff girl cheering extra loud for him during their last quidditch match, always staring at him with heart eyes and blushing every time he looked her way, it got on your last nerve. 

“James, can I talk to you please?” you practically grit through your teeth, trying to keep your calm as best as you can. 

“Hold on a sec, you’ve been stealing him away so much lately, what, you guys fucking or something?” Sirius proclaimed, wiggling his eyebrows at the both of you infuriatingly. To say the least, the comment had struck a soft spot, and you wanted now more than ever for James to lift this silly rule, to be confident enough in your relationship to just admit his feelings for you, right there, in front of everybody.

It was too much to hope, as all he did was turn around and join in on the jesting, not even considering how it might make you feel.

“Gosh no, you know we’re just friends, Pads cmon, don’t be like that.” The words cut through you, hurting more than he realised. You didn’t even know what to do, but you weren’t making the decisions, your body was making them for you. You spun on your feet, tears welling up in your eyes, embarrassment overflowing through your veins like blood. You started to walk away, leaving behind you a stunned Sirius and a very regretful James.

In that moment, all conflicting feelings left him, overtaken by wanting (read: needing) to comfort you, any means necessary. He couldn’t stand to see you upset, especially by his own hand. 

When you heard him calling after you, getting up to catch up to you, you could only speed up, trying to get away from him as fast as possible.

“Honey, please, I didn’t mean it, you know I didn’t mean it-” 

It’s no surprise that he catches up to you, jogging in front of you to somewhat block your path, pleading with you to hear him out. When your stubbornness dismissed him, there was only one more thing that he could think to do that would get his point across. After all, actions do speak louder than words. 

He grabs ahold of your face with both hands, opening his mouth to say something, anything, before cutting himself off by planting his lips firmly to yours. 

James Potter really was never very good with words. So it’s a good thing that you could always understand him, words or not.

thank you so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed! i'm always open to constructive criticism and helpful feedback :) a like, comment or reblog goes so far💕

[darylbae]

I LOVE YOUR DARYL ONESHOTSSS AAHHHHH

i wanna request another vampire Daryl x fem reader pretty pleaseee

I would write this myself but I do not trust my writing skills LOL. A basic summary would be a lone reader who kinda just travels around, and one night when seeking shelter from a thunderstorm she finds this guy named Daryl, barely alive, and nurses him back to health (as much as she can by feeding him rabbit and meat barely cooked per his request), before realizing that Daryl is a vampire but couldn't really care less ("There's dead people walking around and you think a guy sucking blood and being deathly allergic to garlic will astonish me?").

Maybe for some backstory the reader is looking for their dad (or something like that) who got taken by raiders, so she's traveling around trying to find him and killing anyone who gets in her way, so by the end Daryl and the reader make a deal that Daryl will help her, and she just has to provide the corpses.

Ofc, don't feel obligated to write this, I'm sure you get so many requests anyway 😭😭 Again, love your fics!

sweet thing — daryl dixon

in which you meet you make a deal with vamp!daryl, hoping to benefit each other

note: i hope this is what you wanted anon, and u are too kind! i am so grateful for every lovely comment i get, it really keeps me motivated to write.

The rain was pricking at your cold skin, eyes almost closed to keep the droplets from invading your sight, and there wasn't an end in sight. You had to find him. Your dad, the only familiar sight left in this damned world, was gone. You'd sat around a fire one night, sharing a can of beans, giggling about another guess the song game you'd been playing. Then you'd woken up, and he was gone. You knew he'd been taken, it wasn't hard to realize, his stuff still surrounded you as you cried into his jacket that morning. There had been raiders on your trail for a while, it was actually a group you'd split away from a while ago. Looking to drag you back in. Why hadn't they taken you too? You wondered every day since, all thoughts leading to you feeling too useless to anyone. So now you wander, hoping to find a lead to get you back on track to finding your dad again. You'd spotted a metal panel propped between two trees, it had almost resembled a hut, and it seemed the only shelter for miles. It'll do for tonight.

You'd lost count of the days now, it all consisted of walking, stopping to eat and drink, kill walkers. Still in the same God forsaken woods that you lost your dad in. The raiders typically stayed in wooded areas, easier to conceal themselves, which was proving to be true. Leaning against the coarse bark of the tree beside you, you'd sighed deeply and readjusted the gun on your hip. Another stolen prize from the raiders which had helped you immensely in escaping. It was time to search for a place to stay. It had started raining again, however much worse than it had last time. Thunder was booming around you, the rain quick to soak your clothes and your hair becoming stuck to your skin. In the distance you could see a shed, or what looked like a small house. Your brain had squeezed onto the hope of shelter, picking up the pace as you broke free of the woods. It was, in fact, a small home. A bungalow of sorts, good enough for you for a few nights. It didn't seem occupied, but you were still cautious, so you'd equipped your blade and held it up as you breached the door. It was worn down, seemingly vacant since outbreak. But in the corner, by a fireplace, you had spotted a shadow. A moving shadow. You hadn't thought it through, you just rushed over to the person, in hopes it would have been your dad. It wasn't. But it was a man, who seemed to be on Death's door. Wheezing in and out, shivering as his coat laid over his body, ghastly pale. You'd thrown your bag off your shoulder, ripping it open to find your makeshift First Aid kit. "Hey, you still awake over there?" You asked, incredibly surprised at your confidence around a stranger. A wounded stranger. He grumbled, giving you enough confirmation to keep administering First Aid. "This is gonna hurt like a bitch."

Turns out he'd been stabbed, too weak to patch himself up. These were all just guesses, as he'd remained silent in the corner ever since you'd gotten here. However, he stayed. Even as you went out to find some dry firewood, after the rain had stopped, he was still sprawled out in the corner of the room. You'd started a fire, and sat comfortably in front of it as you let your food cook and clothes dry. "Do you have a name?" You asked, glancing over to the man. He met your eyes for one second, pulling them away from yours in the next. He remained quiet. "If we're going to inhabit the same home for a while then the least I expect is some information." You spoke, stabbing the bits of rabbit with a stick on your improvised grill made of wire and clothing hangers. "Daryl." He mumbled, taking the coat down from his face and sitting up. It was nice to see more of his face now, and strands of his hair stuck on his face. His voice was smoky, gruff, kinda hot. You hadn't thought about someone like that since before the world ended. It had just been you and your dad, except for the group of raiders you'd abandoned. You smiled into the fire, happy you were making progress. "Want some rabbit?" You offered, waving the end of the stick over at him with a cooked chunk of rabbit meat. He shook his head. "I'll find my own food." "Come on," you huffed, "eat some damn food. You need it if you want to heal." "I like it rare." "How rare?" You asked, ready to chuck some more on the grill. "Not touched the fire kinda rare." You grimaced, gesturing towards the cut up meat on the floor next to you. He leaned forward, wincing as he held his stitches, and stole a few pieces for himself. It didn't satisfy him like you probably would, but this was unbeknownst to you, he had to sit in the corner and control himself. You'd been nice enough to keep him alive, so he owed you that much. "So why do you eat raw meat? Won't you get sick from that?" You questioned, done with your food for the night and just using the fire for warmth. He shook his head. Guess that was too far. Silence lay heavily on the pair of you, Daryl too interested in a crack on the wall, and you watching the flames dance in front of you. It was you making all the conversation, so you had assumed that was it for the night. You'd climbed onto the couch, laying as comfortably as you could, and closing your eyes, hoping to have a dreamless night. "Ya won't believe me. You'll run." You heard, and you'd sat up, facing Daryl who was now sat up, arms resting on his knees with his head dipped down slightly. "Why?" You asked. "Why would I run?" Daryl paused. He didn't want to be alone again. As new as you were to his life, he liked company above all else. Even if you were pushy. "I prefer humans." "You're a cannibal?" You shivered, sat up properly now, ready to make a run for it. "NO." Daryl answered, "well, kinda." "Vampire?" You asked. Judging by his silence, you were right. And it shocked you how... normal you were about it. "Okay." You laid back down, clothes still damp and uncomfortable. But sleep was catching up quick. "Ya ain't gonna run?" He asked, and there was a hint of innocence you could hear. Like a child that had been walked out on one too many times. "No," you answered, still laid down but eyes open and looking at him, "the world has ended, the dead are alive, and you think a guy sucking blood and being deathly allergic to garlic will astonish me?" "Myth." You smiled, happy to close your eyes again. "You gonna suck my blood?" He wanted to, so bad. He wanted to taste that sweet blood pumping around that pretty body. "No. Don't wanna hurt ya." Your heart quickened, and you were embarrassed how much of an effect this stranger was having on you. You needed some action. Bad.

The fire was out when you'd woken up, and the man in the corner, Daryl, was gone. You lifted your head, noticing the coat that had once covered him, was now covering you. Your cheeks tinged pink at the sentiment, as you'd sat up fully now, still keeping the coat nicely snug around you. He hadn't left, surely? You'd made your way outside, the heavy thud of your boots alerting him of your presence, as you'd found him on the porch smoking. "So you can still smoke, huh?" You asked, sitting down next to him and observing his demeanor. Even the way he moved was hot. "Same as you are, just different diet." "Guess that answers my question of how you're in the sunlight." You giggled, and you could almost see a smirk threatening to show on his face. "Want your coat back?" "Nah," he croaked, mid-inhale, "looks better on ya." You couldn't quite believe your life had come to flirting with a vampire in the apocalypse. "Going somewhere?" He asked, and he was a lot more talkative than yesterday. You shook your head. "All I've done is wander the woods for God only knows how long, I plan on staying for a while." Daryl knew it was a topic for another night. So he stayed silent. "Gonna find some dinner. Stay inside." He instructed, standing up and stubbing the end of his smoke. You nodded your head at him, planning on making this home a bit more homely.

Daryl had been gone a while, and you'd cleaned up the place a bit. Making it look not-so-run-down. And you'd even found a book, to accompany you as you waited on dinner. He'd returned back after sunset, having been gone all day. And you were becoming ravenously hungry. "Took you a while." You commented, slamming the book closed and getting up to get the fire lit. "Yeah, sorry," he grumbled, "see ya kept ya'self busy." He looked around at the space you were sharing, seeing it didn't look nearly as bad as it did when he found it. You had only just looked up at him, seeing a sleeveless shirt and being more interested in that than the deer slung around his neck. His toned arms, patches of blood and debris from hunting all day, it was enough to drive you mad. "Hey," he clicked at you, and you felt shameful, "eyes are up here." He joked, and you smiled awkwardly at him. "Ready to eat?"

You'd eaten a good amount of meat, both of you now sharing the couch. Shoulders touching, thighs touching, your heart was beating loudly in your ears. "What's got ya out here?" He asked, his gruff voice sending goosebumps up your arms. But the question was something you didn't know if you were ready to share the answer to. But Daryl could help, he could get you closer to him. Finding your dad again was all that matters. "It's been me and my dad for the longest time. We'd met up with a group of raiders a while ago, who did things we just weren't okay with, so we up and left in the middle of the night." You sighed, heart aching for your dad and wherever he was. "They've been hunting us since. And we settled down one night, and when I woke up, he was gone. Taken. I've been trying to find him ever since." Daryl's hand found your thigh, and you almost jumped at the contact. "I'm sorry." He offered his condolences, and the feeling of his hand on your leg was starting to catch fire. "Not your fault, unless you were a raider." You turned to him, and he shook his head, that smirk appearing once more. "What's your plan next?" "I'm not sure, I just needed shelter for a few nights so I could conjure a plan, until I found you." You admitted, a sweet smile upon your lips and you looked at him. Friendships tended to form a lot faster in the apocalypse, but you weren't sure what this was. Daryl was silent for a moment. "You given up?" "No. Never." "Well let's look for him, together." He suggested. "I'll rip through that whole group if I have to." "You'd help me?" You asked in disbelief. "I like ya company," he confessed, like a dirty truth, "wanna keep ya around. Gotta help each other out." You were beaming on the inside, if this wasn't confirmation of a friendship, then you didn't know what was. "What do I do for you?" Daryl looked at you, your sweet, innocent features, eyes full of curiosity and hope. You'd seen things, but you were truly broken yet. "Help me find bodies, people, not worthy of life, and I'll help ya find ya dad." He demanded, but his voice was low. You found yourselves inching closer together, and Daryl's thumb delicately dragged over your cheekbone. "Sweet thing. I'll help ya."

[soupbabe]

I noticed you opened live action one piece requests! Could I request Zoro, Buggy, and Usopp x Male reader who is a berseker/"go rabid go stupid" type of fighter who constantly tries to do couples moves while fighting either as an established relationship love language kind of thing or to flirt?

Like I imagine Reader's like "Psst- Hot stuff, do me a soild and launch me up? I wanna crash on these fools with this big axe i found! >:-)"

One Piece Live Action Characters with a Male! Bserker! Reader

Featuring: Roronoa Zoro, Buggy the Clown, Usopp

Writing chaotic readers like this is so much fun omg. Idk if a lil violence warning is due, but also it's just something that comes with this kind of request lmao

Buggy

- Oh he loves a stupid man. Even better when he has bloodlust.

- Buggy wouldn't mind sharing some spotlight with you, he'd love to do some couple's moves!!

- He'd so get mad if people don't appreciate your fighting skills. Will stop everything just so his crowd can properly appreciate your chaos

- Buggy wouldn't mind upping the ante time to time, take his head off and use him as a biting projectile or something

- Buggy loves to see a move of yours succeeds!! Not only do you prove him wrong with your outlandish ideas, you're also very hot when you're bashing a guy's head in or something

- You come back to him beaming and covered in blood and he's pulling you in for a kiss

Roronoa Zoro

- If he kills the fun of calling out your finishing moves, there's no way Zoro is going to let you use him as a platform to jump off of

- He takes his combat pretty seriously, your flirty isn't what's going to get him to soften up around you

- Once you two share some rounds of practice together, one on one, he's going to be a lot less harsh on you about it

- Zoro loves fighting with you. You're chaotic, smiling through the whole match. You keep him on his toes and he likes it

- Once you're labeled as Zoro's boyfriend, I think he might surprise you during a fight with some enemies. He'd kneel down and tell you to jump off of him.

- Bring it up to Zoro afterwards and he'd avoid eye contact and tell you he doesn't know what you're talking about. Gets him a bit flustered

Usopp

- Oh Usopp can get himself into trouble so easily when he's around you

- You're so badass! You're the kind of guy he brags about being!! He stares at whatever you do with stars in his eyes

- If you call him handsome and immediately bring up an insane move to do with him, he's saying yes before he realizes what he got himself into

- Because 1) the coolest guy ever called him handsome and 2) he wants to impress you so bad

- He'll gladly shoot anything you'd ask him to, but he'll feel the regret right as one of his fire balls hits a bottle of alcohol you threw towards a marine ship.

- But it's worth it in the end for Usopp, as you thank him with a hug and compliment him for his skills. Makes him puff out his chest in pride, showing himself that he's more badass than he thought he was

[elleworks]

The Jacket

Yoooo! I have been obsessed with Fields of Mistria since it's release, and I am FERAL for more writing out there, especially with everyone's fav, March.

I have more planned to write, but this is the first little blurb I could get out. I am also happy to take requests, just know I am slow moving :)

Most of these will be 18+ but this one is pretty tame. So enjoy!

It had been yet another long day spent at the forge, March didn’t prefer it any other way, but with winter just around the corner, today brought a relentless chill. Thankfully his work kept him busy, and the forge always burned hot. All throughout the day he had been visited by various villagers, whether they were seeking a completed order, or just saying hello. 

The day passed uneventfully, and as March was finishing up his work when Olric emerged from their home. 

“I’m heading to the bathhouse! Wanna come?” Olric was always so chipper, even after days like this. 

March thought about it for a moment. Now that he had been done working, he had begun to feel the cold air settling back in. A bath would be nice, but everyone else was probably thinking the same, and he liked his solitude. 

“Not tonight,” March finally muttered, before turning away from the forge and seeing Olric had already started down the street, eager to get a warm bath. 

The redhead scoffed slightly, and shoved his hands in his pockets, observing the rest of the street to find it mostly empty. It was strange, he had only seen the farmer once today- she ran by early in the morning, simply offering a wave to him as she passed the forge. 

Ari was an enigma to March. He didn’t understand her. When she’d first arrived he thought she’d only come for the land, but as the seasons passed, it was clear she was intent on helping Mistria. The blacksmith would be lying if he said he still disliked her. Though he hated admitting that to himself. 

Still, he couldn’t help but keep up his act whenever she came around. Something about her still irked him. He couldn’t tell if it was how cheery she always seemed, or how she took his spotlight all the time, or how she made his heart skip whenever she stepped into the Inn on Friday nights, or the way his name sounded rolling off her tongue when she teased him. 

March hated the way she would creep into his thoughts all the time. Everyday it was getting harder to keep up the act, when all he wanted to do was pull her to him and- 

The blacksmith realized he was getting lost in his thoughts, out in the cold street, so he huffed and walked into his home, hoping to find something to distract himself from thoughts of the farmer. 

March made some dinner, and sat at his desk, looking over some papers and blue prints he had. Focusing on work was always a welcome distraction. 

That was, until the front door opened. 

March initially ignored whoever walked into the shop, annoyed that they were here so late. But then he heard a breathless, “..March?” 

The redhead finally turned, looking over his shoulder, his eyes widened as he saw the farmer standing in the doorway, looking positively frozen. 

“What the hell, Ari?” March huffed, standing quickly and taking quick strides over to her to close the door, and usher her into the warmth. She was wearing a dress he couldn’t stand, something she just started wearing this season. The fabric was thick, a wonderful dress for the fall, it looked amazing on her, and that’s why he hated it. 

“Where is your coat? Why are you out in the cold this late?” March’s tone was biting as he took hold of one of her arms and led her over to the hearth. 

“I was in the mines this morning and got hot, so I took my coat off. But then I forgot it as I kept going deeper..” Ari shivered against his touch, but relaxed slightly as she felt the warmth of the fire. 

March’s brows were furrowed, annoyed that she made such a stupid mistake. But he could scold her later- right now he just needed her to get warmer. March walked over to his desk and snagged his jacket off the back of the chair before returning to the Farmer’s side and draping it over her shoulders. 

March paused then, the sight of his jacket on her made his brain short circuit. 

“Thanks,” Ari said, turning to look up at March with her big eyes, “I found this for you,” and with that Ari reached into her bag and pulled out a perfect silver ore. March’s eyes widened, looking from the ore back to Ari, his cheeks already significantly warmer. 

“You couldn’t remember to grab your coat but you could haul this thing around?” March rolled his eyes. 

“I’m not leaving a find like this behind!” Ari couldn’t stop her smile, though it was evident she was still trying to fight off the cold, “Besides, I like seeing you blush whenever I bring you one.” The farmer pressed the ore into March’s hand and giggled. 

March’s cheeks flushed even more, and for a moment the blacksmith stared at her in silence, unsure of how he wanted to respond to her. 

Ari hummed in amusement, “Ooo, did I get ya March?” She braved a step closer to him, her eyes watching his, with a mischievous glint. “I didn’t think you could be shut up so easily-” 

The farmer was promptly cut off when March’s hand rose and found the back of her neck. His fingers found purchase in her hair, and he pulled her to him. Ari gasped, her hands landing on his chest, just as March crashed his lips into hers. 

The blacksmith was tired of playing this game with her, if she liked seeing the red in his cheeks so much, maybe it was his time to return the favor. 

March was unrelenting in his kiss, his lips consuming the farmer’s. She sighed into their kiss, and March took the opportunity to deepen it. His tongue dragged against her lower lip, demanding access to her mouth, and she happily complied. March moaned as his tongue slipped into her wet mouth. His hand on the back of her neck kept her in place as his other hand moved to her hip and pulled her body flush against his. 

March broke away from the kiss then, his cheeks flushed- but now so were the Farmer’s. The redhead smirked down at her and released the hold he had on her. “That is how you shut someone up.” 

The farmer stared up at March in delighted shock, scrambling to find any words. 

March hummed in amusement before turning on his heel and walking back to his desk. “You can borrow the jacket until you get a new coat- but don’t be stupid and leave it in the mines again, and make sure you return it.” 

The farmer continued to watch in shock, until she gathered herself and looked down at his jacket. She smiled and then headed back to the door. “If you ever want it back, then you’re going to have to pry it off me.” And with that she shut the door behind her and hurried down the street. 

March couldn’t help but smile to himself, he didn’t mind the idea of seeing her in his jacket about the town.

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Requests are open?! Heck yes! I saw you write for fullmetal alchemist and wondered if you could do a one-shot Riza Hawkeye x Reader (they/them) with the both of them being deployed to the Ishval Civil War. At some point during the battle, she loses them from her sight and never sees them again, even after the battle ends. A few years later, they meet again when they are pursuing Scar but stumble upon her. Hope you'll have fun writing this! Love your writing ❤️ take care

When the Dust Settled

Riza Hawkeye x They/Them Reader

A/N: So happy to be doing an FMA request. I do realize now that I’m reading through the request again, I misread who was looking for Scar and who was getting stumbled upon and I think that changed the whole plot of the fic. Hope you still enjoy it! Word Count: 3,458

“Hawkeye… Hawkeye, hey.”

Riza didn’t blink, but she did come to from her hyper-focused fog.

“Yeah?”

“I got your lunch. Put the rifle down and sit up, relax for a few minutes. You’ve been on watch for hours.”

Riza slowly clicked the safety on and lowered her rifle. With a bit of a wince, she sat up, making sure her body was covered by the raised wall of the building they were occupying. She hadn’t realized how stiff she was until just then. She finally looked up at the soldier sitting cross-legged in front of her and managed a tired smile. (Y/n) gave her one of their own and wiggled the two brown paper sacks in their hands before passing one off to her.

They had often eaten their meals together since this godless war began. It was one of the only moments from day to day life that almost made them feel like they were normal people. Well, as long as they ignored the blaring heat of Ishval, the ever present smell of blood, and occasional gun fire in the distance. The ever-present grit of sand.

“What are you gonna do after the war, Riza?” (Y/n) asked after they had gotten through about half of their rationed meal.

“I don’t know,” Riza answered after taking a few sips of warm water, “It’s hard to imagine this war will ever end. How about you? You must have a plan.”

“Thought you’d never ask.” They grinned and Riza rolled her eyes.

“Let’s hear it then.” She smiled, resting her chin against her fist.

“I haven’t worked all the finer details out yet, but I’m gonna help people. I’m gonna take my pay at the end of this and make something that can help struggling people for years to come. Maybe a public garden or a library with a bunch of programs and resources, a school or something like that,” their smile dimmed, “Something that creates instead of destroys.”

Riza straightened out her leg to tap her boot against their’s, “Well, I think that’s a really nice idea. I’m sure you’ll go far.”

“Thanks,” they gave Riza an appreciative look, “and if you don’t ever figure out where you wanna be after this. I could always use your sharp eyes and a helping hand.”

Riza felt her heart swell, “That sounds—“

BOOM!

The building shook and quickly began to crumble below them before another deafening explosion went off. The roof began to collapse in on itself as the concrete crumbled away into the smoke and flames.

“Shit! What’s going on?!” (Y/n) pitched forward and linked an arm over the lip of the wall, holding up Riza with the other as she scrambled to do the same.

They watched in horror as the middle of the roof caved and rubble slid and crunched as the foundation failed. Their legs were suddenly dangling in open air as the building continued to collapse.

Riza’s grip began to slip. Looking down at the billowing smoke and flame, she wondered if this would be her end, but (Y/n) caught her by the wrist before she could fall into the crevice, she looked up to (Y/n)’s strained face and the pale blue sky with billowing smoke like clouds.

“Don’t let go!” (Y/n) yelled over the screams, explosions and gun fire. “Hold on, I’ll swing you up!”

“(Y/n), you can’t.” Riza’s voice was strained, “You’re slipping.”

“Come on,” they put on a smile that looked more like a grimace, “don’t give up on me!”

Riza flung her other arm up to grasp (Y/n)’s and they braced themself, grunting with the exertion of working up a swinging motion. With one last mighty heave, Riza was flung up and over the sinking wall, more like a crumbling concrete floor at this point.

“Quick, grab my hand!” Riza reached out to take (Y/n)’s hand again and bring them up over the top of the wall as well, but just as their fingers brushed, the edge of the wall (Y/n) had been clinging to broke away and (Y/n) slipped through Riza’s fingers.

Riza’s scream was lost over chaos and she watched helplessly as (Y/n) tumbled into the giant fissure that had split the building. They had fallen out of sight in an instant.

Riza felt the building buckle again, trying not to think about the floors below being crushed with more and more weight… a particularly bad jolt occurred, forcing the caved roof to fall several more floors. Riza smacked her head hard against the concrete, falling unconscious as the smoke and sand billowed around her.

***

When Riza opened her eyes, she found herself in a medical tent. The groans and whimpers the soldiers could be heard all around her.

“Hawkeye, are you lucid?”

Her eyes flickered to the side, finding Roy Mustang mirroring the war-hardened eyes she possessed right back at her.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Good. You got a nasty head wound, some cuts and bruises, but the doctor says you’ll be okay. You were lucky you were on the roof.”

“The roof… (Y/n),” Riza attempted to sit up, but Roy kept her down, “(Y/n) fell, are they alright? Please, you have to tell me!”

Roy gave Riza a sorrowful look, “Haven’t found them yet. They’re still pulling soldiers from the wreckage, but the way the building collapsed, there’s no way to scour the whole site without jeopardizing more lives. I’m sorry, but it’s not looking good either way.”

“I can’t believe the Ishvalans would go this far…”

Roy sighed mournfully, “It wasn’t them.”

“What...?”

“It was friendly fire. Apparently the news that the building had been seized hadn’t reached the platoon responsible. It’s all a mess.”

Riza closed her eyes for a brief moment, willing her heart not to break, “I understand.”

“I’m sorry, Hawkeye,” Roy stood from his seat when he saw Hughes wave him over from the front of the tent, “I really am.”

“Me too.” Riza murmured as he walked away. She closed her eyes again, willing the burning sensation to go away.

In the end, (Y/n)’s body had been declared unrecoverable, and a few months later, the war had ended. Riza stood in front of the wreckage as soldiers were loaded into those heavy tactical vehicles back to Central, taking one last look at the final resting place they would forever be entombed within. It just wasn’t fair.

“They don’t belong here.” Riza had whispered.

“I don’t think any of us did.” Roy responded. “The last vehicle is loading.”

Riza nodded, but before she joined Roy and the convoy, she crouched in front of the rubble and placed the desert blossom she had found atop the hot stone. She then got up and left, not once looking back because it would simply be much too painful.

***

Four Years Later

“Ow!” (Y/n) exclaimed, “It wouldn’t kill you to be little more gentle, or at least give a warning!”

“Quit crying, in case you haven’t noticed, this isn’t exactly a cushy Central City hospital.” The doctor grunted, snapping the last connector in place. “Your own fault for picking fights.”

“Hey, those guys started it. Like I was gonna just stand there and let them harass Rick like that.”

“Still gotta be careful though, I’m no mechanic and I’m barely a doctor. That arm’ll be scrap before long if I have to be the one to keep trying to fix it.”

(Y/n) flexed their metal fingers experimentally and they seemed to respond well enough. “Hey, for now it’s perfect. Thanks old man.” They hopped off of the table and jogged to the open flap of the canvas tent.

“Where are you off to now? You should take it easy for a couple minutes at least, let your arm settle.”

“Nah, I have to help with the garden. The raccoons have been trying to tear everything up so we’re building a fence. Can’t let all that planting go to waste!” (Y/n) called over their shoulder before completely exiting the tent.

As fate would have it, (Y/n) had survived the building collapse during the Ishvalan War by the skin of their teeth. They had been crushed below the rubble for a number of days, fading in and out of consciousness. Their blips between sleeping and waking became longer and longer and they found themself wondering when they would awaken for the last time, but the next time they had opened their eyes, they found themself on a cot covered in dingy bandages and one less arm to their name, a name they had a hard time remembering at the moment.

Amnesia, the Ishvalan who had cut them free explained. Even to this day they had a difficult time remembering their past. All they knew for certain from their bloody and torn clothes was their name and that they had been an Amestrian soldier.

As they were slowly fed information about what had been going on around them, they could not understand why those good people had bothered to save them at all. Apparently they had snuck some food to some Ishvalan children on a few occasions and that had played a major role in the rescue efforts.

It had been suggested they find and rejoin their platoon to try to regain more of their memories, but they refused. How they had ever ended up fighting in this awful war, they couldn’t comprehend. They decided they were better off not knowing who they had been before the collapse and after they had healed enough to begin walking on their own, they did everything they could to give back to the Ishvalans who had saved their life.

Now four years after the Civil War, they found themself building up the slums of East City, trying to make life easier for all the refugees that lived there.

They had only just begun pounding stakes into the ground when the whispers began. Apparently the military was sniffing around. They were looking for the scarred Ishvalan that had been in their care days ago. He was long gone now, they wouldn’t find anything and would move on before long. They would all just needed to play nice until then.

“Excuse me.” An oddly familiar voice called.

“Yeah?” (Y/n) didn’t turn around, opting to finish staking the post instead of facing the soldier behind them.

“We are searching for an Ishvalan man of a tall, muscular build with a large, ‘x’ shaped scar across his face. He also has a tattoo that runs around his right arm. Have you seen anyone that fits that description?”

“Hmm, nope. Doesn’t ring a bell, sorry.”

“He’s a very dangerous man. A murderer. You aren’t doing anyone any favors if you are hiding him.”

(Y/n) frowned, but did not waiver, instead they grabbed another post only for it to slip through their fingers when their prosthetic didn’t grip it properly.

“Here, I’ll get that for you.” They heard the soldier say.

She moved to crouch before them and when she reached for the post, she froze, a quiet gasp leaving her lips.

“…(Y/n)?”

They finally met the soldier’s eye. Something about her was very familiar, but their brain couldn’t quite grasp it, but it was clear to them that this blonde, brown-eyed soldier definitely knew them.

“You’re… it’s you, your alive… how?”

Riza didn’t think she should believe it at first, but she would know that face anywhere, it had haunted her nightmares and and pleasant dreams alike.

“Where have you been? Why didn’t you come back?” She asked, getting more heated with each question, taking (Y/n) aback when they saw the raw emotion she displayed.

Riza reached out and grabbed the collar of their shirt, “Say something!”

“I don’t know you!” (Y/n) blurted, then back peddled, “I mean, you seem familiar, but I don’t remember you. I don’t remember a lot from before the collapse. Sorry.”

Riza started openly at (Y/n), her mouth slightly agape. Her eyes snapped down to the bare-bones automail arm that encased her quivering fist.

“Can you let go, please?”

It took all of Riza’s will power to do just that.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice trembled.

“Hey, uh, it’s okay.” (Y/n) felt compelled to comfort the woman, “This is kinda a lot to take in I’m sure.”

Riza nodded mutely, unable to take her eyes off of them in fear that they would disappear after a single blink. (Y/n) felt rather drawn to her as well, trying to understand just where she had fit into their life besides being comrades on the wrong side of the war.

“Lieutenant, find anything?”

Both (Y/n) and Riza startled slightly from the addition of a new voice. Riza reluctantly turned and (Y/n) peered around her shoulder to size-up the soldier walking towards them. He sparked something in their brain too.

“Colonel,” Riza had begun to speak,

“Well I’ll be damned.” Roy breathed, “Second Lieutenant (L/n), you have some explaining to do.”

(Y/n) did not appreciate his tone, “Hey, I just told your friend here that I don’t know you people, nor do I owe you anything. My memory may be foggy but I clearly remember the people who saved me, and none of them were either of you.”

Roy bristled and stepped forward, but Riza blocked him off, giving him a warning glare. She could tell the locals around them were getting antsy watching this prolonged interaction.

“If I had even the smallest inkling that you were alive, I would have worked my hands to the bone to remove every slab piece by piece by myself if I had to.” She murmured, the sentiment tugged at (Y/n)’s heart. They must have been very close back then.

“So,” she cleared her throat, “you haven’t seen who we’re looking for, alright then. We will be on our way then. However, may I ask you one last thing?”

(Y/n) gave a brief nod, curious, “Shoot.”

Riza paused briefly when (Y/n) answered her in such a familiar way. Once upon a time a reference to her sharp shooting skills. They probably hadn’t said it on purpose, but it gave Riza hope that perhaps one day they would remember her and all they had been through together.

“Can I talk to you again sometime? I’d like to know more about what happened, what you’ve been up to. Would that be okay?”

(Y/n) knew they didn’t owe the woman anything, but again, their mind was grasping at something they couldn’t quite reach and they felt like this woman held the key. “…I suppose. Maybe leave the uniform at home though, the military presence kind of stresses everyone out.”

“Of course.”

“Well then, I guess we’re done here.” Roy grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Come on, Lieutenant. We still have work to do.”

“Right.” Riza was mildly annoyed with the Colonel, but he was right. She had to be professional, Scar was still out there. “I’ll come by in a few days, (Y/n).”

“I’ll be here, Hawkeye.”

“Riza, call me Riza.”

“Riza,” (Y/n) nodded to themself, “Okay Riza, see you later.”

Riza’s lips twitched into a small smile and then she followed Roy back to the car. When they got in, Roy sighed.

“Just be careful, Lieutenant. If the wrong people from the military figure out they survived and never returned to duty, they could be imprisoned for desertion. Not to mention they aren’t the same person you once knew. Don’t let nostalgia overpower your logic.”

“Are you lecturing me, Colonel?” Riza glared.

“Not at all.” Roy smirked. “Just some friendly advice.”

“With all due respect, sir. You can keep your advice to yourself unless asked.”

Roy shrugged and the car drove off.

***

“Easy, Hayate…” Riza cautioned the dog as he excitedly pulled against his leash to survey the area.

Riza felt strangely nervous coming back to visit (Y/n). Without her uniform to hide within, she had changed the outfit she was going to wear out at least three times. She usually didn’t care about such things, but this felt different. Even now she was wondering if she should have worn her hair up as usual instead of down. Why was she second guessing everything?

She noticed a pair of Ishvalan children peering over at Black Hayate with big, excited eyes and smiled.

“He’s friendly if you want to come pet him.”

The children shyly approached, giggling when Hayate licked their fingers. As they visited, Riza took the chance to look around. The East City Slums were an infamous eyesore if you asked the city officials, but honestly Riza had seen worse. The Ishvalan refugees were building from the ground up. Worse than that, building up from the devastation of war.

“Riza, hello.”

Riza turned, finding (Y/n) walking towards her. She found herself wondering how many visits it would take before the surprise would wear off.

“(Y/n), hello, thank you for seeing me.”

“No trouble. Rick, Rio, go help your grandpa for me, will you? He’s trying to rearrange the library again.”

“Ugh, okay…”

“Bye, Hayate!”

The boys ran off, leaving Riza and (Y/n) alone. Riza swallowed under the scrutiny of (Y/n)’s eyes.

“Is something wrong?”

“Hm? No, I don’t think so.” (Y/n) shook themself out of it, rubbing the back of their neck. “I just thought you had shorter hair for some reason.”

“I used to,” Riza lit up a bit, perhaps (Y/n) was starting to remember, “I wore it short when we knew each other. I met a girl a couple years ago with long hair and I thought it looked nice so I decided to try growing mine out.”

“Ah, well it does look really nice.” (Y/n) searched for anything more to add or talk about, but came up short. Such was the trouble with memory loss. Their well of stories wasn’t very deep. “Um, cute dog you have there.”

“Thank you.”

…

Yeah, this was awkward. But Riza managed to save it after a minute of weirdly loud silence.

“So you said you have a library here?”

“Surprising, huh?”

“I didn’t mean—“

“Nah, it’s fine. I get it. It’s definitely not anything amazing, but it’s a start. We’ve been working on building this place up. Of course, when you don’t have the funds, the projects go slow, but I think it makes these little victories all the more sweeter.”

Riza chuckled, earning an inquisitive look that was possibly bordering on being insulted.

“No, no, I’m not laughing at you, it’s just… at your core, you’re the same person after all. During the war, you often talked about how you were going to help people once it was over.”

“Huh.” (Y/n) acknowledged, because they really didn’t know what to say. It was kind of comforting, they supposed. At least they hadn’t been the complete monster they had feared they might have been. But still… why fight that war at all?

“Even your reasoning for joining the military was honorable. You always sent most of what you earned back home to your family.”

“…And what happened to them after everyone thought I was dead?” They asked softly, almost a whisper.

“They received compensation after it was determined you had been killed in action. I still check in on them every year, but they are doing well. They still feel your absence acutely, but they take it one day at a time.”

“I’m kind of awful, huh? I always wondered if I had a family, but I didn’t look very hard.”

“No, not at all. You went through a very traumatic event. You shouldn’t feel so bad. Besides… when you feel comfortable, if you’re up for it, I would be happy to take you to them. They would probably be better at helping you regain your memories than I would anyway.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t even know this much without you. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Riza managed a small smile. (Y/n) had always shut down any negative words she might have said in the past.

“Come on, the city has a nice park not too far from here. I’m sure your puppy will enjoy it. I’ll get you lunch too.“

“That sounds really nice, but I’ll be the one getting you lunch today and that’s final.”

“Okay, jeez,” (Y/n) chuckled, putting their hands out defensively, “I won’t fight you on it, put out that fire in your eyes… why is it so important to you?”

Riza’s smile broadened just a bit more, remembering those small moments of peace with brown paper bags and cloudless blue skies. She hoped (Y/n) would remember those moments too one day. Somehow, someway, everything would work out in the end. It was a rare moment of optimism for Riza, a feeling without any hard evidence to back it up, but she embraced the feeling.

“I’m returning a favor long overdue.”

[amor-immortalem]

Touch

OMweek2023 Day 2: Markings

Pairing: Mammon x gn!MC

Genre: Angst

Content warnings: toxic!MC, misuse of the pact, overstepping boundaries for MC to get what they want. (It back fires on them)

A/N: As I was writing this I kept thinking: wow, MC’s a fucking asshole… IDK where their characterization came from, man. Also there’s been one thought living rent free in my head for the past week: What if Mammon’s markings in his demon form were actually very painful scars from where those gold pieces he wore as an angel were? And lastly, I wanted to try my hand at writing for GN!MC for once…

“You wanna what?” Mammon gawks at the human’s boldness. He can’t say anyone’s ever made such a request of him before.

“I wanna touch your markings,” They’re not shy about repeating their request. “Is that a problem?”

“Well... no but- Why am I even entertaining this? The answer’s ‘No.’”

“Why?” The human tilts their head to the side like a curious puppy, “Are they sensitive?”

“No! I just don’t want ya touchin’ ‘em.” A blush heats up the demon’s cheeks.

“Please?” MC asks again, giving the demon puppy-dog eyes.

“No!” Mammon reasserts again. “You’re not touching my markings. End of discussion.”

The Avatar of Greed removes himself from the room before the thought of enforcing their pact with him to get what they want crosses their mind.

・・・〆・・・

A week later and Mammon is doing his best to avoid being alone with MC as much as possible. He doesn’t want to say he can’t trust they won’t try something, but he also doesn’t want to give them the opportunity to try either. But he misses that stupid human. What should he do? He’s already laid the boundary out. They wouldn’t be that shitty to actually cross it, would they?

There’s a knock at his bedroom door. At best it’s one of his brothers wanting something from him. At worst, it’s MC. Against his better judgment, the white-haired demon opens the door.

“Have you been avoiding me?” It’s the human, barging their way into his room and taking a seat on one of his couches.

“Not even a hello, how ya doin’?” Mammon quirks a brow at them, “And no if I were avoidin’ ya, I wouldn’t be hanging out with ya at school. I’m a busy demon. I can’t hang out with you 24/7.”

“Except before I asked to touch your markings, you were doing pretty much just that.” They chuckle, “You’re so full of shit. Just say you’re avoiding me and be done with it.”

“I’m really not but okay, whatever.”

“Good. See, things are much easier if we just do them my way. Now, come on, sit down. We’ll watch a movie together.” They pat the spot on the couch beside them and Mammon can feel the pact forcing his feet to comply with the order. He just hopes the human hasn’t realized what they were doing.

When he sits, they snuggle into his side, head resting against his chest as they grab the remote and start surfing through movies to watch. Once they settle on one, they click play and get even more comfortable.

・・・〆・・・

They’re half-way through the movie and Mammon has no interest in it whatsoever. He scrolls through his phone not paying attention to what MC is doing- actually he thinks they might’ve actually fallen asleep on him. They’ve been so still for the past twenty minutes.

“Hey, Mammon...” Their voice is so soft he would have missed it over the dialogue in the movie if he didn’t have a heightened sense of hearing.

“Hmm?”

“Hold still for me real quick.”

And the demon freezes as they crawl into his lap. He can’t move even if he wanted to- and he really does want to move.

“What’re you doin? Get offa me!”

“C’mon, Mammon just let me touch them. It’ll only be a quick second and then I’ll never ask again.”

“What part of ‘no’ do you not understand?” He can’t believe they’re still fixated on the idea of touching his markings.

“I don’t get why it’s such a big deal for you. Give me one good reason why I can’t touch them, that isn’t just because you don’t want me to.”

“Because... because I just don’t, and you should respect that!”

It’s quiet between them. MC looks like they weren’t pleased with his answer.

“Transform.” Another order that the Avatar of Greed can’t keep himself from following. Resigned to his fate, Mammon goes quiet and just lets this human he thought to be a friend have their way.

Soft finger tips on one hand trace the white lines that decorate his torso while the other hand tilts his chin up so they can have better access to the marking on his throat. The only thing Mammon can think about is how everywhere the human’s fingers trace burns as badly as the day these marks first appeared as he squeezes his eyes shut. He’s reminded of the pain he felt when his brothers had to cut the celestial gold out of his skin after it had fused into him during the fall from the celestial realm.

“Mammon?” MC’s voice sounds echo-y and distant, as if they weren’t sitting not more than five inches from his face. “Mammon.” Their voice is clearer now as their hands cup his face. “Hey, are you okay?”

And it’s that question that sets him off. He pushes the human off of him as soon as he has control of his body again as he glares at them.

“Get out,” His voice comes out in a twisted snarl. “Get out and don’t come back.”

“Wait- I’m sorry- I didn’t think it would be painfu-”

“I said out! Now!” Mammon’s wings flap with enough force to topple the couch they had just been sitting on as well as knock over various valuables that had been sitting on shelves with the resulting gust of wind.

MC is quick on their feet and rushing out of the room.

・・・〆・・・

For the next three months, Mammon and MC hardly see each other. He refuses to be anywhere near them despite their endless attempts to approach him and Mammon’s perfectly happy this way. He’ll never see them in the same light as he did before this. Before, he’d always seen them as an exception to most humans but now, all he ever considers them as is someone willing to cross whatever line necessary to reach their end goal.

So, when he enters his room and sees them sitting on his couch once again, the demon’s immediately on the defensive. He keeps his distance, standing at the door as he watches them.

“Thought I told ya not to come back?”

At the sound of his voice, their eyes meet his. They look genuinely sad but Mammon can’t bring himself to believe that they’re not just putting on an act.

“I’m sorry... What I did was wrong...” They start, propping their chin up with the back of their hand. “Can I explain-”

“Ya don’t look very sorry.” Mammon interrupts quickly, “If you’re here to beg for my forgiveness, save your breath. What you did was way outta line. You broke my trust and I’ll never forgive you for that.”

MC only frowns as they readjust on the couch. “Will you hear me out? At least listen to what I have to say?”

“No, I don’t care about the why ‘n the how of it. Now scram.” Mammon doesn’t want to hear an explanation. He doesn’t even want to look at their traitorous face. “I told you I didn’t want you touching my markings and that was because they ain’t just markings but incredibly painful scars that remind me of what I lost and what I’ve been through every time I see them. ‘N when you touched them, it felt like you were setting my skin on fire. Now, if you’re done tryin’ to manipulate me into forgiving ya, get out. Our friendship is over.”

“Come on, please just five minutes and then if you really want to call our friendship quits then I’ll respect that.”

“No, I already told ya I ain’t interested in any explanation you could give me. It won’t fix what happened.”

“Not even if I had had good intentions behind it?”

“Ain’t no good intentions that include violating somebody’s boundaries.”

“I just wanted to take our relationship to the next level!” There’s a look Mammon can’t quite place in the human’s eyes. It almost seems like desperation. “I had learned in one of my classes at RAD that sometimes a demon’s markings act like an erogenous zone a-and I figured since you’re clearly in love with me but don’t know how to admit it that me touching your markings might signal that I was interested in you in a way that was more than friends and-“

“Enough,” he’s done listening to this. “If you were wantin’ me to be your boyfriend, ya shoulda just come out and said it. What you did ruined any shot you ever had. Now, for the last time. Get. Out.”

MC frowns and dejectedly walks out of the room as the demon clicks his tongue in annoyance once they’re gone. To think he ever had feelings for a human like that... but that’s just how it goes he supposes.

・・・〆・・・

End

[pushingdaisies1]

ᴏɴᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ɢᴏᴏᴅʙʏᴇ - ɪᴀɴ ɢʀɪᴍᴍ

Paring: Ian Grimm x Reader (Art director of Mythic Quest) Authors Note: -> Soooo.... hi! As you can see , I may have died again. Some things didnt go as planned which is why I couldn't do the winter prompts. I’m holding out for next year to actually do them , since the idea seemed vv fun. Speaking of next year , I wanna try experimenting with writing for more fandoms - also I want to get a better schedule with writing. While in my down time , I decided to binge watch Mythic quest and that's how this was created. I hope you all enjoy , and I'm planning to post another request I got as a new years treat. It involves Critical Role (￢‿￢ ) Summary: You would never deny that Mythic Quest helped you a lot. Never forgetting your good time friend Ian asking you to head the Art team. But now , it all felt incorrect. As if there was more for you in the vast world of video games. After you got a job offer in New York for someone whos looking for a Creative Director , your gonna have to break it to your now situation-ship Ian Grimm. Content Warning: In general , just arguing but also not really? Feeling empty/unwanted with your current position. Ian being sad which you know will get some tears flowing. Other than that I think that's all , as always let me know if I should add anymore. Time for the teary eyed angst my friends!!                     ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ You were somewhat done packing. Shoving your bags with the leftover stuff at Ian’s compound. Holy shit this was a lot. You would have never expected in a million years to be leaving this all behind. It didn’t help with the emotions flooding through you during the process. As if you were betraying the family you had stuck with for so long. But you didnt know if you could stay with Mythic Quest any much longer. You wanted to embrace your potential and this was the only way. It was a huge mix of feelings , regret and hope being two of them You had hope in them , and now you just had to have hope in yourself. Right when you finished putting all your lasting items away , the front door opened. It was Ian , your circumstances coming to full front realizing this was also his house. He stood in the door way , stopped in his tracks. Everything around you got ice like cold. From looking down into your suit case , you couldn't help but look up at him. He genuinely had the face of being paused in time. More so shocked than mad. You had shame written all over your features , immediately looking back down to your half-open bag.

Stopped in his tracks , his eyes darted around the place. The things you had set up before now gone. Your “pizzaz” seemed to have been stripped from the walls. His eyes felt like they were burning a crater in the back of your head. Finally after this gut churning silence he said something.

“What… what are you doing?” He spoke , almost above a mutter. You could tell his tone was a little shaken but of course that couldn’t be crystal clear. “I’m packing since my flight leaves pretty soon.” You mumbled. “Flight? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? What the fuck?” He questioned you. His burning temper slowly rising in him.

“Look , hold your horses! You know how I mentioned someone getting in touch with me?” You said trying to calm this situation down. Right now you were up from the floor , your possessions now packed and ready. You couldn’t dare to look him in the eyes. While you were thinking , Ian could recall a conversation you both had over breakfast. You didn’t really mention who exactly  , but you went on about how excited you were with what the mystery person had proposed to you over e-mail.

“Yes… how does that literally play with you up and running off?!” He almost wheezed. In his state of mind everything was just firing off on cylinders. The argument with Poppy and now this? How fucking more could his day get worse. He was so tired , and now this was hitting him so soon.

“It plays a big part actually.” You murmured. Ian almost glared at you , but he was only so confused. His silence in return lead you to ramble on. You explained that a gaming company up in New York was looking for a Creative Director. They had saw your work on Mythic Quest and other projects in the past and were firm in you being a great Creative Director for them.

“Thats great and all but… why? I mean after so long , you promised to stay.” He groaned. You could clearly feel the pain in his words. Each one piercing your heart more and more. “Thats why I was hesitant at first. I loved Mythic quest since the day you wanted to create it. But I can’t keep waiting around to finally be taken seriously.”

“What do you even fucking mean?! I take you seriously, everyone does.” Ian pleaded. “Oh really? You know how many times you have dragged the art team to handle your personal problems. Like the whole shirt debacle you and Poppy had?” You ranted to him. “Don’t forget the times you’ve needed me to create shit on a dime!”

Ian just stared at you blankly , not finding any words to say. “You don’t get it , if I take this so much could change for me!” Your words were desperate, not wanting to leave this relationship sour. “I would have control over a lot of things , I could finally say what I want to do creatively..”

Over and over you listed reason after reason. “It’s not like I could go back and change it all anyways.” You mumbled just a little. “Excuse me?” Ian said in response , sounding immensely offended. “Well I did accept the position and I did give in my resignation to David.” You explained. “Why didn’t you tell me!” He almost shrieked again.

“BECAUSE I DIDN'T THINK YOU’D CARE!” You yelled back. Ian really was looking like a sad puppy , this was all so sudden. You really didn’t want to start yelling but there it was. “I didn’t really think that you would give two flying fucks.  Most of the time you seem fine without me so I didn’t really expect it to make a difference , much less a huge one.” You coldly remarked.

Ian still looked at you blankly before choking up just a little. “Fine , I can’t stop you now.” His tone was almost as if you were walking on ice. His words cracking , his vulnerability being forced behind closed doors. “Look , I’m never not gonna be grateful about what I got to do with Mythic quest.” You tried to patch the derailed conversation up.

“This game will always be the game that helped my career tremendously. Everyone will always be like a family , or nice close-knit group of weird strangers.” Trying to chuckle through the bleakness right about now. “But I have a bad feeling staying here any longer won’t turn out well. So I’m making my exit now.” You finished off.

“Please , let me try more. I never meant to make you feel so empty.” Ian was right about to begging. He felt so pathetic , he didn’t want to lose you at all. This was right out of his worst nightmares. Surprisingly has those , thought not so surprisingly in the end.

“You’ve tried enough already and what’s done is done. I’ll never regret anything I did with you or this company. Don’t ever fucking think I hate you.” You looked him right in his eyes. He looked so tired , never expecting to come back home to this news. He did a nod back to you in response , making sure not to show any tears. Walking over to the front door , you looked up more at him.

You took in his face for the last time. Using your other free hand to cup a side of his cheek. He’d let it happen , immediately sinking into your somewhat comfort. “This is in no way to raise your ego but… I believe in you Ian. I have for a good eight years. I know you guys have this without me.”

The guilt in his voice was clear now as he replied. “Does this mean your gonna say ‘fuck you’ to everything?” You couldn't help but snicker a little. “No of course not! I’ll always be a text or call away. I could never give this all up completely. This has became apart of me I’d never let it go.”

He chuckled , his laughter feeling bitter. With one more kiss of your palm you heard the honk of your lift outside. Taking a breath in , you brought him into a hug. More like a side hug but hey it worked. “Make sure you tell everyone I bid them my farewells.”  Ian nodded and you both parted from the hug. “God it sounds like your dying.” This made you both share one final laugh. “Take this as my almost figurative death from this game. Hey , maybe do a fake funeral for me leaving.” You brought up.

He did a little bitter sweet smirk. “I could probably get that rolling.” He was holding on to strings. He wanted to show his love for you. Embracing you in a full hug , kissing your face all over. But he was helpless , biting his time for too long. Another honk came from the car waiting.

You sighed , getting your stuff in hand ready to leave finally. “Oh don’t forget to tell Poppy I said goodbye , as well as good luck.” Ian nodded , “You should probably head out before they ditch you. You sighed once more , heavier for a more comedic effect. “Yeah your right..  well then this is goodbye.”  Again , one last final look was shared between you two. Following that you closed the door behind you as you headed to the car waiting. Ian couldn’t help as soon as you left to burst into tears. He felt this pit growing inside him. What were these big emotions? He hated them , god this all sucked.

Words of shame rang through his head , he had lost you. After so long he had finally lost you. He had fucked this all up so hard. He felt hopelessly guilty about the situation. He wanted to try and fix it but like you said to him , he couldn’t at all. Which is what pained him more.

Your brain cleared out once your driver started moving along. Sitting in the backseat , your thoughts felt like white noise. Ringing and ringing constantly. It was all so overwhelming, it just encouraged the floodgates to burst right open.

It made you feel small , but enough was enough. Changes had to be made and you were proud of yourself somewhat. You didn’t really know what tomorrow would end up being like. But now you had to be hopeful for tomorrow. There was no going back. It was now or never , you were happy with just that.

Grounding yourself to reality in the backseat of this randos car , the tears stopped flowing. You had to keep your head up , you can’t sink into the deep depths of sadness now. Which led you to be a weird kind of excited. Everything felt really heavy , but you could feel it was all gonna be lifted right off from you soon enough.

Finally you were gonna be able to breath once more.

[mrskurono]

MOMMY. ITS ME. BEE. BUT ON MY WRITING ACC. i was hoping you might read some of the stuff i write?

You brave brave brave soul making a writing account

I've actually seen your nail painting headcanons! They were super fucking cute ngl and my little cosmetologist side came out lol I would make Kags lemme do his nails but i'd also pull the licensed professional card to make him let me heuheuheu

[chenle-dressed-in-black]

Hi ! Are you open for requests ? If so, could you do something like Mafia!NCT Dream (or whatever unit) reaction to you saving them ? (As a stranger) Please 😊?

✰ 𝕞𝕒𝕗𝕚𝕒!𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 ✰ | you, a stranger, save his life

m.list

     I’m back with another dream mafia reaction, because they’re so much fun to write! I’ve been feeling very inspired to write recently and I’m making the most it. Thank you all for your patience as I work through your long-awaited requests. My mafia writings contain depictions of violence, death, weapons, language, and things of that nature, although none in excess! Chenle’s is hella suggestive btw. These are fairly long, so enjoy~

Mark

     It’s just past lunch time at what could perhaps be called the most beautiful cafe in all the city, but you haven’t found time to grab food yet—business needs to be settled first. You’re lying on your stomach on the roof, watching the people below through a skylight. Sitting behind the counter are all three of your targets, perfectly oblivious to your presence and your partner, Haechan, who is wiring the explosives in the break room this instant. 

     As you scan the cafe’s patrons, one catches your eye. He’s wearing round glasses and headphones, bumping to music only he can hear. He scribbles small lines of words onto a napkin with a blue pen, black hair too short to fall into his eyes. You wonder if it’s poetry or music. Even from this far away, you know he smells good. You frown, pitying him for what’s to come.

     Then you see Haechan peek out of the break room—which is your signal. You know what you’re going to do. Before you shatter the glass of the skylight with the handle of your favorite knife, you double check your line. It’s secure. In the flash of an eye, you’re descending from the ceiling and landing gracefully on the floor of the cafe. Another colleague is firing  rubber bullets to break all the perfectly polished floor-to-ceiling windows. Screams erupt. Under the protection of chaos, you throw a knife into the hearts of each of your targets. They’re your special knives, with your group’s logo engraved in the center. You want to take all the credit for this operation.

     The boy hasn’t even noticed what’s happening, his music is so loud. You walk over to him, realizing that you’re dressed like a Matrix character, and tap his shoulder. He looks up, eyes going wide. 

     “Hey,” you say nonchalantly. “How are you doing today?”

     He makes a face. “Fine? What the hell is going on?”

     “That’s wonderful,” you say, checking your wristwatch. “Look, there’s gonna be in a explosion in about two minutes, so unless you’re prepared to meet whatever god you believe in, you might wanna take that back exit on your left over there, . . .”

     “Mark.” He gathers his belongings with haste. “It’s Mark.”

     You guide him to the back hallway, steering him away from the corpses of your enemies, and removing a card from your pocket. You put it in his hand. “Y/N. That’s my number. Call me about any damages you incurred today for compensation or if you just wanna, you know, talk.” 

     “Right,” he says with furrowed brows. “Thanks, I guess.”

     You open the back door for him, grinning. “Yeah, yeah. No problem. Talk to you later then, I hope?” 

     “Umm, sure. I’m gonna go, you know, so I don’t die. You should, too.”

Renjun

     “Hey, duck!”

     The boy in the beanie turns your way, giving you a puzzled expression. “What did you say?”

     “Didn’t you hear me?” You’re yelling across the mall now as you run towards him. So much for not drawing attention to yourself. Luckily, it’s so loud you aren’t sure anyone really notices—or cares. “Fucking duck, dumbass.”

     While his expression doesn’t change from one of sheer bewilderment, he does kneel down enough that only the wind from the throwing star brushes his head. Standing back up reluctantly, he watches as the target runs away, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. 

     You watch her flee with a smug grin. That should send a message, you think.

     “Excuse me?” the boy says. “Can I stand normally now?”

     As you approach him, your eyes narrow and a fire lights in you. “What’s wrong with you? The second someone tells you to duck, you fucking do it. No questions asked. You’re lucky you still have that shiny hair.”

     “What just happened?” he asks. “Did you have something to do with it?”

     You roll your eyes. “The whole throwing star act? Personally, I prefer a simple bullet.” 

     “We need to call the police. Somebody just tried to kill that woman!”

     “Don’t be ridiculous,” you say through a laugh that abruptly fades before your next words. “You need to come with me, though, so you can sign the NDA.”

     “That can’t be legal.” 

     “Oh, no,” you agree, guiding him toward an exit. He tentatively walks with you. “It won’t hold up in court for a second, but if you break it, you know . . .”

     As you move your thumb across your neck in one line, poking your tongue out for dramatic effect, he freezes in place, but seems rather resigned to his fate. “This is so fucked up.”

     “Right? I hate it, too. It’s so bureaucratic! Like, we’re the kind of people who attack enemies in malls, not the kind who make people sign documents.” Throwing an arm around his shoulder, you start walking again. “But if you don’t go, I’ll have to gag you, put you in my backseat, then hold you somewhere until you agree to sign it. And, honestly, I’m kind of hungry so I want to finish this quickly. Are you hungry? We could pick up some food on the way.”

      “Fuck you,” he whispers, packing venom into each syllable. “How long is this gonna take?”

     “Okay, there’s no need to be rude. I did just save your life, babe.”

     He glares at you. “Don’t call me that.”

Jeno

     One second Jeno is walking down the street on his way to a convenience store, then you’re pulling on his arm. He stops walking, taking you in. You’re wearing black from head-to-toe. 

     “Hi,” he says. “You pulled?”

     You let go. “Sorry, my name is Y/N. Can you trust me for a sec?”

     “I don’t really know you, but I’m Jeno. Trust you about what?”

     When a gunshot sounds down the street, you reach for his hand and lace your fingers together. You take off so quickly that he almost trips. Then you’re running together. 

     “My friends are looking for someone with pink hair!” you say, urging him to run faster with your hand. “You don’t want to get mixed up with them.”

     You love the humor in his voice. “Do you have a lot of friends with guns?” 

     “Just the normal amount.” After another gunshot that is alarmingly close, you pull him into an alley and push him against a brick wall next to a dumpster. “Can you trust me?”

     “Okay,” he says as you step close to him. Really close. He wonders for an instant if you’re going to kiss him. Then you remove your cap and place it over his head, tucking in the ends of his bright hair. “What are you doing?”

     “Y/N, where the hell did you go this time?” 

     “My friends,” you say. “If they think you’re our guy, they won’t ask questions. Look, I’m sorry, but there’s one thing I have a reputation for that will let their guards down.”

     “And that is?”

     “This.” You put your lips on his, giving this everything that you’ve got because it needs to be convincing. The fierceness with which he kisses you back brings a gasp to your lips. Five minutes ago, you two didn’t even know each other and now you’re . . . doing this. And it’s really good. You don’t even have to pretend anymore as one of your colleagues enters the corner of your vision. 

     “Fucking hell,” she says. “You’re so easily distracted. Come on, we’ve got find him before he gets away. Y/N! I am officially cockblocking you, so come on.”

     You pull away from Jeno, giving her a death stare. “I’ll catch up in a minute. Go.”

     She mutters something underneath her breath then returns to the main street. Turning back to Jeno, you offer him a victory smile filled with mischief. Caught up in the absurdity of it all, he laughs. “I just made out with a stranger. Easily distracted—do you do this often?”

     “Occasionally.” You turn to go. “Thank you for your service, Jeno. I’d wear a hat tomorrow if I were you.”

     “Wait,” he says. “Where can I find you?”

     “I’ll find you. My friends and I are good at that, too. See you around, Jeno.”

Haechan

     “Excuse me, sir,” you say, coming behind a young man dressed in expensive clothes standing next to a very expensive car. “Were you about to check into this hotel?”

     He looks you up and down, half impatient and half amused. “Yeah, why?”

     “You’re very handsome and I’d feel bad if anything happened to you there, so take a word of advice and try the Hilton across the street. It’ll save you some money, too, not that it looks like you’re running short on it.”

     “Who are you?” he asks, closing the door of his car. “And that sounded a lot like a threat. If you want money, I can give you some. How much?”

     You rest a hand on your hip. “I have plenty of money, thank you. I’m trying to warn you, not threaten you. I won’t beg you not to be an idiot. The choice is yours. You’re welcome.”

     “You didn’t tell me who you are!” he calls as you walk away. 

     “No one.”

     “Is the J.W. Marriott a dangerous place for me, too, then? I’d prefer that over a Hilton.”

     You grin at him. “Plenty safe, rich boy. Be careful, though, because the gelato is to die for.”

     “Come get some with me,” he says. “My guardian angel. To say thank you for protecting me.”

Jaemin

     Approximately five minutes after your groups sends an assassin into the safehouse of an adversary, you’re informed by your de facto boss that the assassin has entered the wrong apartment. She doesn’t even have to explain for you to know that you’re expected to remedy the situation—you’re the best damage control in the game. 

     “Any information on whose apartment he did go in, then?” you ask, tying your hair back to get it away from your face. You tighten your shoelaces and put a hand on the belt at your waist, making sure your weapons are still there.

     Your boss frowns at her tablet. “It’s a 21 year-old guy called Na Jaemin.”

     “Is he cute?” When she sends you a disapproving glance, you wave it away. “Kidding. Hopefully he’s alone, or just has a one-night stand in his bed. Hoping he didn’t throw a rager and let everyone he knows crash there. Wish me luck.”

     The lock has already been picked by the hitman, so you open the door quietly and examine your surroundings: no wasted twenty-somethings lying around. It’s perfectly silent without a hint of the assassin anywhere. But he’s here. If he’s in the bedroom, which there only appears to be one of, you’re running out of time. You pick up the pace, risking a floorboard creak or two. 

     He’s hovering over a sleeping man. So Na Jaemin has spent his Friday evening all by himself, then. Because speaking may wake him up, you come up behind the assassin and twist his arms behind his back, trying to pull him from the room silently so you can explain the clumsy mix-up. The sooner he’s in the right place, the better. 

     Catching you by surprise, he spins from your grasp and hits you across the face. It’s loud enough that Jaemin stirs as you stumble back. The hitman moves towards him, grasping a knife. 

     “Damn it,” you whisper, unfolding a metal baton from your belt. “Wrong house, dude. It’s the building over.”

     Jaemin jumps out of bed, reaching for his bedside lamp and raising it like a baseball bat. He’s shirtless. “Who the hell are you? Get out of my house.”

     It’s as if the assassin didn’t even hear you, because he starts to launch the knife at Jaemin. You make the reckless mistake of getting in the way. As the knife cuts into your abdomen, your entire body clenches in pain. 

     The shock stuns the man for a split second—long enough that you hit him across the throat with the baton, knocking him to the ground as he claws at his neck for breath. You can feel the knife inside of you, but you know better than to remove it now. 

     “I said, this is the wrong house.” For good measure, you smack him across the head. He goes all the way down. Clutching the knife handle, you turn to Jaemin breathlessly. “Sorry about that. Wrong address.”

     He’s by your side, having thrown the lamp aside. He looks down at your wound. “I’ll call an ambulance. Here, sit down.”

     “Don’t!” you say. “There’s a trained medic outside. I just need to—“ You double over when a wave of agony hits you, grunting. “—get outside. Please help me.”

     The room starts to spin, but you feel his arms around you. Is he holding you? Then everything fades into darkness. When you awaken, you’re in a bed in your group’s headquarters. Jaemin is staring at you nervously.

     You try to sit up, then groan. He’s by your side in a second. “Don’t try to sit up. You’re okay. I talked to some of your . . . colleagues. You risked your life to save mine, even though I’m a stranger. If you need anything, I’ll be here for you as you recover.”

     “Recover from what? It was just a little . . . oh my God.”

     You both examine the bandages that have mummified your torso. “You had three surgeries. The knife hit your intestines. Let me bring you some water.”

Chenle

     Tonight, Chenle is breaking into the main facility of your group in search for a stolen artifact that a posh historical society desperately wants returned—the reward is blinding. He’s made it in deep, near the heart of everything, with little trouble. That is, until you spot him. 

     All of the sudden, the lights go out and he’s swallowed by complete darkness. He stiffens at the sound of someone around him, but he can’t position where. 

     Your mouth is close enough to his ear that it makes him shiver. “You’re the one I like. I spend a lot of time watching you and your friends. If anyone else found you first but me, your head would be going on a podium next to that old vase you’re here for.”

     “I don’t believe I’ve had the honor of knowing you the way you know me, though never fear—I’m already starting to reciprocate your endearing admiration.”

     One of your hands finds its way to his tense shoulder. “Call me Y/N.”

     “Lovely to meet you,” he says, carefully clipping his tone. “What will you do with me now?”

     You click your tongue, still merely inches away from him. “There are so many options. I could take some of your fingers off or we could spend some more time in the dark—in a more comfortable setting, of course. Or I could give you to my friends.”

     “You’re making me blush, Y/N.” There’s undeniable amusement in his tone, whether it’s a farce or not. “You’ll enjoy our time together much more if I’m allowed to keep my fingers, darling.” 

     He lets you pull him down the hallway, which is still dark. “I can arrange that. Maybe I’ll keep you for myself for a little while. I won’t let the others touch that pretty head of yours. How does that sound?”

     “I’m all yours.”

     Maybe Chenle should be more opposed to the idea of being a hostage, but you paint a compelling picture. He knows he’ll be out of here eventually. The next few weeks will not be boring, to say the least. Whatever he’s in for with you, he’s ready. He just hopes you look half as attractive as the sound of your voice against his ear.

Jisung

     One every three months, a few of you get together and terrorize the streets of a neighborhood, but it’s all in good fun. You pocket some cash, steal some nice watches, and bruise a few egos. No one takes it too far. 

     You’ve just swiped the pearl necklace of a sour woman when you hear the sound of someone whose robbery is definitely being taken too far. The snaps, cries, and echoes can only be the sound of someone getting beaten. Tucking the pearls into your bag, you approach the scene. 

     “If it isn’t my least favorite person in the entire world breaking our unspoken rule not to kill someone on our nights out,” you say, catching sight of a particularly unbearable member of the group kicking a tall boy with white hair on the ground. “Knock it off.”

     Hardly sparing you a glance, he packs in another kick. The boy cries out. His mouth is bloody. 

     “Come on, leave him alone. You’ve already robbed the poor guy of everything—surely there’s a limit to how much you can harass and beat him. Have some mercy.”

     “Get lost, bitch.”

     You stand your ground. “Are we really going to do this right now? I’ll kick your ass, prick.”

     “Whatever,” he says, getting one final blow in before stepping away. “I’ll just go find someone else. Asshole.”

     “Fucking douche.” Slowly, you come to the boy. He gives you a desperate look of pleading. “It’s gonna be fine. I’ll stay here with you until an ambulance comes, but you have to promise not to rat me out.”

     He nods frantically. “Don’t—don’t go. Please don’t leave me.”

     “I’ll stay,” you say, smoothing his hair back from his forehead to soothe him. You dial for an ambulance. “I’ll stay with you.”

     “Thank—thank you.”

[ptergwen]

hi! holiday request peter x reader where peter and reader are long distance and reader comes to visit peter and the other avengers for the holidays and there’s a cute reunion and maybe the avengers in there too i dunno but cute yay <33

warnings: mentions of drinking and angst if you squint

a/n: hi love! sorry i finished this so late omfg i ended up writing way more than i expected to dkjsjdjshs but i hope you enjoy all the same and you’ve had a merry christmas <3

-

“how’re you getting here again? you said happy’s picking you up, right?” peter wonders.

he’s talking to you on speaker phone because he’s currently hanging from the ceiling… upside down.

“yeah, last time i checked,” you confirm with a half smile. “why?”

peter crosses his arms over his chest, lips pursed.

“‘cuz, uh, i could always do it. i’ll swing you,” he suggests, you huffing on the other line. “pete, we’ve been over this,” you warn him. “just lemme swing you, y/n/n!” peter whines.

he takes the phone off speaker and brings it to his ear.

“what do you have against it? you don’t trust your boyfriendly neighborhood spider-man?”

you have to hold back a giggle at the nickname peter gives himself.

“for starters, it’s absolutely freezing out there,” you point out. “no problem. my suit has a heater,” peter instantly retorts. “what about me?” you do the same, but peter only grins.

“i’ll keep you warm, baby. you know i will.”

he pauses for a moment.

“i just miss you, y/n. it’s been way too long,” he admits, his grin faltering. “i don’t think i can wait any longer.”

with you out of state for college and peter now a full-time avenger, you haven’t seen much of each other as of late besides through your phone screens.

you’ve finally begun your winter break, though. finally. you’re visiting peter and spending the holidays together at avengers campus.

“you only have to hold out for a little while now, pete. happy should be on his way soon,” you console, despite your own impatience.

“ugh, but i wanna see you now,” peter squeezes his eyes shut in frustration. “i wanna make hot coco and sit by the fire in our matching pajamas, and-“ he interrupts himself to add, “i got us matching pajamas, by the way.”

you put a hand over your heart, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of love you have for this dork.

“we’re gonna do all of that and more, peter. we’ve got time,” you murmur. “i have to go, okay?”

“okay,” he concedes, letting out a breath. “hey, i love you. i’ll see you soon.”

“i love you, too. hang in there, spidey.”

you know him so well.

what feels like a lifetime later, peter hears a car from down the road. he quickly realizes it’s pulling up to the entrance of the campus.

he drops from the ceiling and races out of his room, without a second thought.

“she’s here, she’s here!” peter shouts to the team as he skips down the stairs. “it’s y/n! she’s here!”

sharing in his excitement, they all follow him to the elevator so they can greet you there.

happy leads you inside, carrying your bags. it’s a gesture he normally wouldn’t make had it not been for his christmas spirit.

the two of you head into the elevator, which you ride up to the main floor where the team resides.

when the doors open up, crowded together before you are earth’s mightiest heroes.

you’re met with a chorus of your name from everyone except peter. he’s gone silent, so overcome with emotion he can’t get a word out.

“lady spider!” thor chuckles, arms outstretched for a hug. a santa hat covers his newly grown out hair.

“parker better put a ring on it,” sam jokes to bucky.

“new blood, eh?” yelena asks natasha, sipping from her peppermint bark beer. natasha shoots you her signature smirk. “she’s been around.”

kate elbows clint’s side, a string of glowing lights around her neck.

“oh my god, that’s y/n?” she whisper yells. “no. no way! i didn’t think she’d be-“

“real? me neither,” clint finishes for her.

“it’s a christmas miracle!” scott cheers.

you and happy exit the elevator, the doors closing behind you. with a smirk crossing his features, he leaves to take your bags up to peter’s room.

peter wordlessly steps forward. his eyes fill with tears, and you feel your own watering.

“i… i don’t even know what to say,” he rasps.

your hands reach up to cup his face, peter setting his hands atop yours. you stroke your thumbs over the apples of his cheeks.

“you don’t have to say anything.”

peter locks his fingers with yours and lowers your hands to his chest. he manages a smile through his tears.

“where’s the mistletoe when you need it?” sam calls out.

“not a bad idea, actually,” peter agrees, eyebrows raised to cue you in.

easily, you capture peter’s lips in a kiss with so much passion it almost knocks him off his feet. the fervor is amplified twice the amount when peter kisses back, arms looping around your waist to hold you in place.

steve whistles at you two, bucky clapping him on the back.

wanda and vision join the rest of the group, hand in hand.

“ah, young love,” she remarks.

as the better part of the team continues to holler for you and peter, tony and pepper watch on fondly from the couch.

“they grow up so fast,” tony sounds near tears himself. “oh, tony,” pepper can’t help but to laugh at her husband’s reaction.

you eventually have to pull apart for air, but that doesn’t stop peter from pecking your lips over and over again while you attempt to regain your breath.

giddy as ever and receiving a string of kisses across your cheek, you grab peter’s shoulders to ground yourself.

“now, you mentioned something about matching pajamas?”

[youaremy-dreamgirl]

Beautiful tonight

Pairing: Jonghyun x gn!reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 963 words

Summary: you don't really need anyone to take care of you when you are sick but Jonghyun thinks otherwise

A/N: an adorable anon asked for a Jonghyun fic and after some time and a lot of thinking I came up with this. Anon, I hope you like it! Thank you for your request, I wasn't sure I was gonna be able to write for him but I genuinely enjoyed doing it 🥰. Credits to @promptplanetblr and their idiots in love prompt list that I used as inspiration!

A/N 2: I hope whoever reads this can find in it some comfort, as this is intended to honor him. As a shawol who has been by their side for over 12 years, I promise you this comes from a place of love and respect for him.

-------------------------------- ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ --------------------------------

Was that the doorbell?

Ugh, what time is it?

You slowly open your eyes, only to see you've fallen asleep on the couch, the TV still on and playing god knows what. You check your phone right as the doorbell rings again, and you see a message from Jonghyun on your screen from 20 minutes ago that said "I'm on my way"

You groan. You've fallen asleep while you two were chatting and now he's here while you feel like crap and all you want is to keep sleeping until this stupid cold is out of your system.

You open the chat app and see him typing, so you wait for him to finish.

Jjongie: I'm at your door! let me in!

You: dude if you come in you'll get sick

You: also I just woke up so you don't wanna see me like this

Jjongie: I have food and I know you need it

Jjongie: come on it's cold as fuck, open the door

You: you're so annoying

Jjongie: 😚

You get up and go to your door, pressing the button on the intercom that opens the building door below. Dragging your feet, you go to the bathroom to wash up and try to look at least presentable. Your head still hurts and your nose it a bit pink from all the sneezing and rubbing on it. What a lovely view.

He's seen worst, though; like that time when you drank too much so you threw up in his bathroom, and he was sweet enough to make sure you didn't get anything on your clothes. Or the time you fell asleep with your mouth open while you were watching a movie and he recorded you, zooming in on the drool on the corner of your mouth. God he is so stupid; he's lucky you've known each other since you were kids or else you'd have kicked his ass already.

A soft knock on the door makes you sprint to open it. He is wearing a scarf big enough to cover his whole body and you can't help but laugh at his face.

"What's so funny?" he asks as he steps in

"Who did you borrow that from? Hagrid?"

He looks down at his clothes, grabbing a piece of his scarf. "If you had worn something like this you wouldn't be so sick, you idiot"

You stick your tongue out to him and take a step back so he can place the bags he brought on the kitchen counter.

"Have you eaten anything?"

You shake your head, pouting.

He looks at you with a worried look on his face. "How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts" you shrug

He places the back of his hand on your forehead, and even if it's freezing, it feels comforting on your skin. "You don't have a fever, but you do feel a bit warm" he takes the hand out to look for something in the bag "here, take this"

You open your hand to see some ibuprofen falling on it, and move to the fridge to get some water to swallow them. As you drink, you turn around to see he has turned on the stove and is getting one of your pots from the cupboard, pouring in it a soup he bought and placing it on the fire. You lean back on the fridge to watch him, he is so focused he's squinting his eyes, opening and closing your drawers to find what he needs to cook. He's so sweet for doing this, and you can feel your heart swelling at the way he cares about you.

"You're cute" you say, smiling at him. It takes you a second to realize you've actually said it out loud.

He frowns and looks at you. "What?"

"I said you look like a fruit" you blurt out, kicking yourself internally for coming up with such a stupid answer

"That doesn't even make any sense" he laughs "you sure you are ok?"

"Shut up" you joke, rolling your eyes. As you get closer to him, you can smell the delicious food and hum happily.

He smiles at you, tilting his head to the side. "You look like a fruit too"

You stare for a second until you both burst out laughing, but when your laughs turns to a cough he's quick to rub his hand on your back to help it stop.

"You should really get some rest" he suggests, his hand now resting softly on your lower back "go and wait for me on the couch, I'll take this to you"

"You don't have to baby me" you whine, hugging him by the waist and resting your head on his chest "but thank you"

He places his head on top of yours, smiling in your hair. He lets go of the spoon he's using to mix the soup so he can hug you with both arms, squeezing you.

You stay like that for a moment, the soup slowly cooking while you take deep breaths. You should probably let go before it gets awkward but you don't care, really; you feel safe in his arms and you wish to embrace him for as long as you can.

You lift your head to look at him and he does the same; his eyes are shining brightly and you are certain that's what angels actually look like.

"Pineapple" you whisper

"Huh?"

"You look like a pineapple" you gesture at his head "your hair is a mess"

He snorts. "Ok, well, banana"

"What? Why banana?"

"Your posture is shit" he kisses the top of your head before breaking your embrace "couch, now, you're gonna make me burn the soup"

"Fiiiiiiine" you chuckle "you are so annoying"

"Yeah, yeah, I love you too"

[hyunsuks-beanie]

Practice

Idol! Sunghoon x dancer! reader; smut

Word Count: 1.9k

Mellow speaks: I couldn't post this yesterday, but here I am with another Sunghoon smut! I've always loved these kinds of scenarios, so it really was a pleasure writing one myself, and I wanna thank the anon who requested it. Hope you guys enjoy reading this!!

Tagging:@enhabb

"I choose Y/N," he says, making the rest of your crewmates roll their eyes and causing you to groan internally as you look at the shit-eating grin on his face. He stares directly at you, biting his bottom lip softly and sending a wink your way when he thinks no one is looking. It's not like you didn't like Sunghoon, nor was it like you didn't want to perform with him. He had been nothing but an absolute sweetheart to every single dancer in the crew throughout the promotions for their latest comeback, and had the circumstances been any different, you would have absolutely loved to be his partner for the opening stage during the upcoming award show performance. But luck evidently wasn't on your side.

Sunghoon was insanely handsome, and you too, weren't half bad yourself. The moment he had laid eyes on you during that first practice session, he knew he wanted you. You too, had never really expressed any discomfort with the notion either. And so had started a game of cat and mouse between you two, with him trying to corner you every moment he got, and you responding to each and every one of his instigations with equal force. More than once, he dangerously close only to have you push him away at the last moment. "We can't-," you'd say, face heating up as you tried to fix your perturbed demeanor.

The result? A constant sexual tension so thick it could have been cut with a knife, lewd comments and sexual innuendos becoming so commonplace that everyone became used to them, from your crewmates to his bandmates to the stylists and makeup artists. "Your butt looks great in this attire, Y/N," he'd say, with you firing back with a "Aren't those pants a bit too tight for you, Sunghoon?"

So it wasn't really a surprise when he chose you to be his partner for a contemporary act, which was to open for their performance as a group. But that didn't mean you weren't scared of what was to come. Knowing Sunghoon, you knew that while the act was not even supposed to be sensual, let alone sexy in any way, he would be able to find a way to get you all riled up if it was just the two of you in a room.

"Do I have to?," you ask, earning a nudge in the arm from one of your mates. Looking up, you realize that he's coming your way, and you can do nothing but gulp as you stare at him. Standing right in front of you, he says, "See you at practice then," the smirk still on his face as he leans down, his lips so close to your ear you can feel his breath hit your skin. "Let's see how you escape what's between us, tonight," he whispers, sending an electric shock throughout your body.

Evening finds you dressed in nothing but shorts and a skimpy tank top as go about practicing with Sunghoon, the proximity between your bodies and the sweat clinging to your skin doing things to your mind and making you lose your focus. This eventually causes you to stumble upon your own feet, leaving you with no choice but to cling to his shoulders as you try to steady yourself, his hands flying to your waist to keep you in place. Only when you finally manage to find your balance do you notice just how close the two of you are, your chest pressing against his and his breath fanning your lips. You stay like that for a minute or two, just staring at each other until you feel yourself leaning in, only to find him doing the same. Unable to stop yourself, you finally allow your lips to meet his, letting you catch him in a kiss that's surprisingly soft given the atmosphere.

Feeling yourself get lost in the moment, you enjoy the kiss while it lasts, pulling away reluctantly a few seconds later. Your eyes drop to the ground as look at his pouty expression while saying, "S-sorry about that. I didn't mean to-." But he cuts you off, grabbing your jaw gently as he says, "What are you sorry for huh? We both know I want this just as much as you." And with that, he starts leaning in again, but you shake your head, pushing him away softly. "You know we can't, Sunghoon. It's not right," you reply, making him sigh in defeat as you go back to practicing.

But it's futile, the past few minutes already having messed with your mind too much to make you lose your focus completely. You keep making mistakes, finding solace in the fact that you're not alone in it, meaning that Sunghoon is just as bothered as you are. He keeps trying to get you to a break, only to have you continue pushing, your irritation spurring you on to perfect your stance before you call it a night. What you don't notice, however, is the way the man dancing next to you is losing his patience bit by bit, being well aware of the fact the only way to get you to stop will be to stop you himself.

And so, before he can stop himself, he ends up taking hold of your arm, making you stop mid-step and look at him. "What are you-," you begin, breathing heavily, but he just looks at you. Next thing you know, he has you flush against his chest, his lips kissing you fervently in an effort to keep you from asking questions. You try to push him away again, but he refuses to let you go, grabbing your wrists to keep you in place. It doesn't take you long to finally give into the kiss, putting in force as his grip on your wrists loosens in favor of having his hands on your hips. Your own hands make their way to his hair, raking through it as he parts your lips with his tongue, only to wrestle with yours.

You remain like that for what feels like hours, pulling away only when the lack of oxygen threatens to make you black out. "I want you," you whisper against his lips, making Sunghoon' face light up at finally having his wish granted. He doesn't waste a single second in latching his lips onto your neck, biting and sucking on your skin in the hopes of leaving a mark. You can't help the moan that escapes your lips at the contact as you angle your neck to give him better access. Taking advantage of the fact, he is quick to pull on the straps of your tank top, making them slip down your arms, which causes your top to fall down your chest, exposing your braless breasts.

Before you know it, his lips have attacked your boobs, sucking on your nipples as you begin to grind your hips against his clothed member, eliciting a moan from him. Before long, he has you down on the floor, your hands tugging on the hem of his tee as he hovers over you. "Take it off," you whine, making him chuckle as he complies. "So needy," he says, smirking, "And yet you were pretending you didn't want me." "Shut up," is all you say, pulling him down for another kiss as your hands pull his pants down, palming him through his boxers. Moaning into the kiss, he finally pulls away, grinding his clothed dick against your shorts, feeling your wetness seeping through.

Moving away, he pulls you up along with him, pulling his boxers down before doing the same with your shorts and panties. A minute later, you find your back against the floor once again, with him hovering over you in reverse, his mouth right above your pussy and his dick aligned in front of you lips. Bending down, he leaves a long lick up your folds, while you wrap your lips around his length, pulling him in little by little. His tongue continues to push in in out of your hole, while his finger rubs your clit, making your toes curl in pleasure. You, on the other hand, start bobbing your head up and down his girth, hands massaging his balls while you swirl your tongue around him.

The room quickly fills up with the filthy sounds of your moans and skin slapping against skin, both of you driving the other crazy with your mouths. Soon enough, you feel him twitch softly while you continue sucking on him, as he cums inside your mouth, his warm juice making you let out a satisfied hum. Sunghoon replies with a moan, the vibration sending you reeling as you too, reach your high, squirting all over his lips and tongue. He laps up your juices, cleaning you dry before pulling away, a dizzy smile gracing both your lips.

Getting up, Sunghoon walks over to the drawer, opening it only to fish out a condom. You quirk an eyebrow at him, making him smirk and shrug his shoulders. "Guys have their needs," he says cheekily, before coming back and handing fhe condom to you. Giggling, you tear it open with your teeth, paling him close by the hand and rolling it down his dick. The moment you're done, he changes his stance so that he's hovering right over you, his dick aligning itself with your entrance.

"Ready?," he asks, but before you can so much as part your lips to reply, he thrusts into you, making your eyes go wide as your walls clench around him. Pulling out, he repeats the motion, quickly setting up a pace for himself as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, your legs wrapping around his own as you rake your nails down his back. A string of moans escapes your lips, sounding like music to Sunghoon's ears. "Fuck S-Sunghoon. Right t-there," you cry out, only to have him grab your jaw and turn your face towards the mirror. "Look at how pretty your pussy looks, taking my cock," he whispers in your ear, biting your earlobe softly and sending shivers down your spine as you let out a loud moan, hands flying to his hair as you catch him in a kiss.

The room goes silent except for your lewd noises, and soon enough, you feel the knot in your stomach growing bigger as your moans become louder. Sunghoon continues to push into you, hitting your G-spot with every thrust. It doesn't take it long for him to make you come undone as you cum all over his sheathed dick, your body convulsing in pleasure as you hold on to him. A couple more thrusts and he too, reaches his climax, releasing into the condom as he collapses on top of you.

Riding out his high, he gently pulls away from you, discarding the used condom and handing you a towel to clean yourself up. Once you're done, a moan escapes your lips unintentionally, and though he would say he harbors any romantic feelings for you (yet), it takes everything in him to not squish your cheeks seeing how cute you look. "Can we rest a while?," you ask, not having it in you to start practicing again after being completely spent. Chuckling, he says, "Sure," pulling a blanket from the cupboard and handing it to you while adding, "And now that the sexual stuff is out of the way, I feel like we can finally be friends."