♡ winter! ♡

mostly old reader inserts i wrote years ago and never posted! sorry for the slow updates <3 ||21||female||requests open!||

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Winter's Masterlist + Request Info

Hello! This is slightly overdue, I've been just a bit too busy to get around to organizing :) thank you so much for your patience as well as all the love my fics have been receiving, it means the world to me!! <3

Request Information:

Requests aren’t guaranteed to be written, and even if I choose to write for it, it can take anywhere from a month to well over a year! the current fics I have posted were written years apart, and I typically only write if I have a lot of inspiration. If you'd like to guarantee that your submission get written, just shoot me a message and support me on Ko-fi! Any donation will guarantee your fic gets written! :)

You can request anywhere but it's less likely to get lost if you request via asking or by commenting on this post!

When you request, please include the character as well as any AUs, general themes (angst, fluff, NSFW etc), or any prompts you'd like featured! I absolutely love working off of small prompts, ESPECIALLY dialogue prompts!!

I will only write 18+ yo male character x Reader fics (sorry!!)

I will only write from a second person perspective, and will typically write from the perspective of a female-coded reader (but anyone is welcome to read <3!). "(Y/N)" will occasionally be used, but you can ask to have that removed entirely in your request as I have no issues working around it :)

Fluff and hurt/comfort is definitely my forte but I am more than willing to try my hand at other common themes! You can typically expect happy endings though :)

Available Fandoms:

-Baldurs Gate 3

-Danganronpa 1+2

-Demon Slayer

-Marvel Rivals

-Valorant

Upcoming Fics:

(Marvel Rivals) Star-Lord x Reader Sequel

Approved Requests:

Pharoah Atem x Dancer/Entertainer! Reader (ON HOLD)

Current Masterlist:

Demon Slayer:

Giyuu Tomioka x Reader - [𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰]

Marvel Rivals:

Star-Lord x Reader - [𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤]

Spider-Noir (2026):

Ben Reilly x Reader - [𝐀 𝐏𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐨]

Sun Haven:

Wornhardt x Reader - [𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐳𝐞𝐧]

Valorant:

Chamber x Reader - [𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞]

Yugioh:

Yami Yuugi x Reader - [𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤]

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Thanks so much for getting through this!! I also post on AO3 and Wattpad as RoseGoldBullet if you'd like to support me there too <3!

I never expect this of any of my readers, but if you want to help support me even further, donate any amount on my Ko-fi and I'll love you foreverr <3

[rose-gold-bullet]

[𝐀 𝐏𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐨] - Ben Reilly x Reader

Summary: The winter of 1930 hasn’t been good to you, your office, or presumably, the private investigator who works across the street. You come up with a long-shot plan to keep both practices up and running.

warnings: drinking, smoking, and finance talk. reader is an investigative (forensic) accountant. wc: 1900-ish

additional notes: I intend on this becoming a bit of a series but only if there's interest, of course :). thank you for reading, even if it isn't your cup of tea (or whiskey!)

i have no beta reader and rarely proof read, so lmk if something is difficult to follow and i’ll fix it up!

Save for the cigarette between your teeth dimly lighting the financial statements in front of you, your office is dark. Silent, too, if it weren't for the soft crackling of embers when you inhale.

It's late now. You have no idea how late exactly, as you've been much too busy trying to figure out how to climb out of this financial hole, but this silence, in isolation, isn't your problem.

The problem was that earlier today, during what used to be considered peak hours, your office was just as dull and silent as it is tonight.

You toss the stack of papers back to the desk. You've analyzed them a thousand times from every angle, and you've already cut every corner you could. You didn't need your education to tell you the market crash a few months back wouldn't boost clientele, but you never could have predicted a loss this severe. You pinch the bridge of your nose and rest your eyes for a moment — you've been staring at these same papers since the sun was still up, and working in the dark without realizing has left you nursing a headache. In a fit of irritation, you break your own silence by taking the defying act of standing up — knocking your desk just a bit in the process, and spilling a single drop of alcohol on your cash flow statement. You forgot you were nursing a whiskey as well.

You hastily grab the drink as you move towards the window. Staring at scattered entries clearly wasn't offering fresh ideas, so maybe watching the city you've learned to love and hate in tandem could offer something new.

At first, it doesn't. The same snow drifts on your window sill, the same stream of cars continues endlessly five floors below. The same strange investigator you see every now and again finally leaves his own office for the night, looking nearly as drunk and agitated as you. Your eyes lazily trail up from him to his own office window.

B. Reilly — Private Investigator. You take another swig and lean against the cold glass in thought. You ought to thank him sometime, seeing as so many of his clients come to you right after. You may not be a P.I., but over the five years you've spent running your practice, you could count hundreds of cases that brushed his own. 

"It's a shame you won't last the depression, B. Reilly. I won't either." You mutter to yourself. As you pull yourself away from the window to put out your smoke, you freeze.

You might have a plan.

It's a terrible one. It's a shot in the dark and even if the bullet hits, it'll probably go horribly wrong as many things seem to do when it comes to that strange, annoying, and bitter detective — according to your clients, at least. You've never met the man, but he's certainly built up quite the reputation.

Regardless, you flick on a lamp, refill your typewriter, and get to work.

You've never made an offer that didn't close, after all, and you need to put in the work if you want to keep this streak up.

***

Freshly fallen snow glistens under New York's polluted skies, golden rays peaking out from even the densest smog.

The sun is shining. Ben Reilly, as usual, isn't.

He glances at his own ledger as he takes a puff of his own cigarette. His papers are less of a record and more of a series of scattered entries he nor Janet can remember writing. His cigarette is twice as strong as yours and still not strong enough. Even during brief moments where he can understand what the hell he wrote down, this damned book is still spelling out one word and one word only: Disaster.

He's so enthralled by this nightmare of expenses and liabilities he doesn't even notice Janet just got a very peculiar walk-in client.

***

"Hello miss. Do you have an appointment with us?" The woman that sits before you as you enter is friendly, and you're a bit shocked that a woman like her works for the alleged nightmare lurking just one room away.

"Hello. I'm sorry, I assumed I didn't need one. I could come back—"

"No, not at all! You assumed right. Ben's just this way.” She stands abruptly and leads you to the door. Her subtle desperation is the vote of confidence you were looking for — you absolutely hated negotiating deals that weren’t in your favour.

The knob rattles and the door opens with a squeak, revealing a very tired man who seems to be in a similar fiscal hell.

Perfect.

"Oh. Janet, did she make an appointment?" He mumbles.

"She said she assumed she didn't need one." She smiles.

"That's offensive." He sits up a bit straighter and finally acknowledges you.

"That's why I’m here, actually. (Y/N) (L/N), I'm a neighbour of yours. Across the street, five levels up." You take a seat in front of him and stare him down, trying to get a better understanding of who you’re dealing with. Despite your efforts, nothing is really revealed behind his blue, exasperated eyes.

He frowns for a moment before taking a guess. "The bookkeeper? We're not really looking at the moment."

"I — First of all, it says accountant on the window. Second of all, I'm not for hire." You toss your stack of papers to the desk and start to fumble in your pockets. "Actually, I'm here to talk business on a more holistic scale. If you can't read though, you better come clean. I'm starting to have second thoughts." Your tone is flat but you can't help but smile a bit at your own jab. You miss his own brief smirk as you look at your pockets, finally grasping your cigarette box.

"I'm still working on shapes and colours, actually," he matches your tone, "and more importantly, what the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the state of your practice. I can't imagine business is booming right now."

"Are you... Are you a loan shark? And how is that any of your business? Maybe it's going swell."

"Still an accountant, actually. And the reason it's my business is because I’m not having a grand time either. This crisis we’re in is bad, and it’s only going to get worse.”

“How do you know?”

“Because it’s my job to know. Do I need to break down every indicator for you?” You sigh as you place a cigarette between your lips and lean in, “Do you mind?”

He concedes and lights you up. It’s a good sign, you think. “I’d think that’s more of an economist’s job. And you still haven’t proven my office isn’t thriving or gotten to the point. I’d appreciate it if you made it snappy.”

“I’m a peculiar sort of accountant. And you want snappy? Here.” You lean back in your chair, but not before handing him a document.

He skims it for a second before his frown deepens further, “What the hell is this?”

“It’s an analysis of your office’s performance over the last three years based on mine. You see, in the tail end of the 20’s, 60 percent of my cases were divorce related. of that 60, 70 percent of unhappy couples came directly from your firm. In other words, your snooping drove 42 percent of my sales.”

“You’re welcome?”

“Thank you. Flip the page,” you pause to inhale, feeling grounded by the burn in your throat, “The amount of my clients with ties to you has dropped off a cliff. You’ve either been talking smack about me, been struggling to find new clients, or the spouses of New York have declined in degeneracy — and we know it’s not the third option.” You pause briefly to see if he’s following. He seems to be paying attention, and that’s enough for you. “If my breakdown of your case diversity is correct,” You slide him a second page, detailing an estimation of how many of his clients are soon-to-be divorcees, “Your sales have dropped 60 percent in the past year, and it’ll only get worse as we reach the height of the oncoming recession.”

“My god, you like to snoop.” The secretary, Janet, whispers in shock. You glance up to her and are pleased to see she’s more surprised than offended.

“It’s like I said. I’m a peculiar sort of accountant.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Reilly lights up his own smoke, “Say my office is in shambles and I can’t afford to eat. What are you suggesting I do about it?”

“What we do about it.” You toss him one final stack of documents, this one stapled together in a neat booklet. Once again, he picks it up and starts flipping through the pages.

He’s silent for a moment, before you see something click. “Is this a…partnership strategy? You’re trying to move in!”

“That’s right. No need to merge businesses, we can keep a strict distinction.”

“What do we get out of this? Also, no.” He’s sassy as he says that last part, and your eyes widen a bit at his attitude.

“Page 12, section B. Essentially, you’re getting cheaper rent and utilities. Tell you what, I’ll even clean up your books a bit.”

“Absolutely not. I’m not changing the window decal.”

“It’s a good thing you have two windows, one of them blank.”

“Where would we keep you?”

“Is this not a three office lease?” You tilt your head towards the closed door on your right.

“That’s the stuff room. We can’t mess with that.”

“Well, what’s in it?”

“I don’t know. Stuff.”

“Move it to the storage room.”

“That’s also filled with stuff.”

“Now you’re just being obtuse. I’m cutting your fixed costs by 50 percent! I’m sure your lovely secretary could use that money.” You look up to Janet, who’s starting to nod along.

“That’s a good point,” She adds, “It’d be nice to get paid sometime this year, Ben.”

“I’m working on it!” He says to Janet before turning back to you, “Why would you want to partner with me? What could an accounting practice possibly have in common with mine outside of the occasional divorce?” 

“You’re supposed to be smart, aren’t you? Figure it out.” You stand up and begin to fix your coat, “On the back of the booklet you’ll find a legal agreement. You have four days to sign it and get back to me before I look elsewhere.”

“I — Wait — Just how bad is your practice doing if you’re going to strangers to request a move-in?”

“To tell you the truth, Reilly, not as bad as yours. If I really needed, I could switch my niche to taxation and have smooth sailing for the rest of my days.” You bluff.

“Then why aren’t you?” He raises an eyebrow in confusion.

You respond by taking a final puff, leaning over the desk, and putting out your cigarette. “Because I fucking hate taxation.” You take a step back, grab your briefcase, and move back towards the door.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Ruiz.” You offer a friendly smile, and she smiles back. “Reilly.” You tip your hat and walk out the door, not bothering to wait for a response.

Once he’s confident you’re down the stairwell and out of earshot, he turns to Janet. “What the hell was that?”

“No clue, but I think she’s great. You’ll call her, right?”

He shakes his head, but it’s more in bewilderment than disapproval, “Probably not.” He stands up to move towards the window, being sure to look across the street, five levels up.

He can’t help but smile a bit. He’s seen this view a thousand times, but it’s just now that he’s finally reading the bold window decal that nearly mirrors his own.

(First Initial). (L/N) — Investigative Accountant & Litigation Support.

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seeing a major rise of AI generated content on tumblr and just wanted to share that i will block anyone who supports AI generated content, including reblogging it or using it as their profile picture.

i’m a professional illustrator, but even if I wasn’t, i’d find this behaviour appalling. by supporting AI art you’re directly stealing from artists.

hope anyone reading this is having a great night :) i’m working way too much to get something out right now, maybe expect something from me during the summer! and wish me luck on my uni finals!

[rose-gold-bullet]

[𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤] Star-Lord x Reader

Summary: You're sent on a mission to another planet and catch the attention of your ally. This takes place in the Marvel Rivals Universe; this Star-Lord might vary from the MCU!

warnings: brief 'love interest protects you from a creep' trope, canon-typical violence in the beginning, chronic use of (Y/N) in this bad boy

Your vision is clouded by thick smoke as buildings come crashing down around you. In this war-torn city, there's nothing to count on but your instincts, your weapons-

"Woo-hoo! Two points for the Star-Lord!"

Oh, and your idiot ally who's somersaulting through the air. The two of you and four others were called here on a mission to transport something to somewhere; frankly, neither of you read the brief, but it doesn't seem like you needed to.

Your new friend, Star-Lord you think you heard him say, lands right in front you. With the area quiet and the haze finally dissipating, you both lower your weapons and check your surroundings. Though it's out of sight and being watched over by the rest of your team, you're sure the objective has just about reached its destination. You watch as he removes his mask to say something, and he's so pretty you almost miss the enemy movement coming from behind him.

"Hah! did you see tha-"

"Duck."

"Goose?" you groan and shove him to the floor for his protection as you raise your gun, knocking out the Psylocke who was racing to get you when your defenses were low.

"Ohh, Nice one! She's so quiet!" He cheers you on from the ground as you extend your arm to help him up, rolling your eyes but smiling at the flattery. Once he’s up, neither of you let go of each other’s arms for a moment, but you don’t notice it until he hits you with a stupid looking flirtatious smirk. You scoff once you realize you’ve been staring at him and jerk your hand away from his arm as though you’ve been burned. Just as you let go of each other, you hear Captain America shouting your names from a few streets over.

Once you're all grouped up, you're notified there's been no known casualties on either side and that the mission was a success. With that, you're all free to go, and you want nothing more than a peaceful, quiet walk on the way to the hotel you've booked for the night. With all this multiverse bullshit going on, it's been over a month since you were given approval to head back to Earth where you belonged. Travelling the universe has been exciting and all, but you can't help but miss home; the closest you've been able to find to it is a room for one built in a style you could maybe find somewhere on your planet.

"Hey! You!" you hear the sputtering of fuel behind you followed by a thump as your friendly pursuer lands as gracefully as he can beside you, "I never got your hero name!" Maybe this walk won't be as peaceful as you hoped.

You've seen him around before during missions, and he's even tried speaking to you a couple times, but you've just been so inside your head lately you've shut out just about everyone. As annoying as he might be, part of you is glad he's not the type to give up.

"I don't have one. (Y/N) is fine." You look up at him and catch the most upset look he could muster.

"(Y/N)? Fine normal name, I guess. But that can't be your hero name! I saw you out there, you were awesome!" You can't help but giggle at his enthusiasm, and his smile widens even more, "Tell you what, I'll come up with one for you."

Your giggle grows into a laugh, "Absolutely not, Star-Lord."

"What's wrong with Star-Lord? It's badass!" You want to say what you really think, that his name is both bad and ass, but it'd feel like kicking a friendly dog, so you swallow your jab.

"I guess it's a hero-name of some kind, which might be better than nothing." You humour him.

"So you'll let me pick?"

"I'll let you come up with ideas."

He proceeds to spitball the worst names you have ever heard in your entire life, which eventually spiral into any noun he can think of followed by 'lord'. You can tell that at a certain point he stopped trying and is just trying to make you laugh, but that doesn't mean it's not working.

"Gun-Lord?"

"Be- Because you saw me with a gun?" You can barely contain your giggles enough to answer.

"Too on the nose, huh?" He grins down at you, but you don't catch the adoration in his eyes.

Eventually you calm yourself down, "These suggestions have been so helpful, don't get me wrong, but I don't think we've found the winner quite yet."

"Give me a bit, maybe I'll come back tomorrow with some more heavy-hitters. We'll get you that name eventually. Where are we headed, by the way?" He looks around and notices you've reached the untouched part of the city, though the citizens are still, understandably, in a bit of a panic.

"I'm headed to my hotel. Where are you staying?"

"Pff, lame. I stay in a ship with my crew, you can crash there if you want.”

"Your... crew?"

"You haven't heard of us? The Guardians of the Galaxy?"

"Uhh, I might've heard that cute raccoon mention something like that? You know him?"

He laughs, "Don't call him that in front of him, he's a bit feral. But yeah, He works with me. So does Mantis and Groot."

"Weird crew you've got going on."

"You'd fit right in!" You can tell he definitely didn't mean it as an insult, "I'd have to get to know you a little better, but I think we could use someone like you, you know." You laugh again, but this time it's in disbelief. He can't be serious.

"I... I kind of have a life on Earth, I think. As tempting as it is to fuck off into space and do... space things together. I don't even know your name."

"I prefer Star-Lord, but Peter works too. And I think you're underestimating how cool the space things are. Come on, you're curious aren't you? Let me show you my ship."

You pause for a moment and think it over. You'd never join his crew, but there's just something about him that makes the thought of seeing him again so exciting. You wonder if other people find him so charming or just paint him as egotistical.

"Sure. Yeah. Meet me sometime tomorrow, maybe?"

"Your hotel, 10:00 AM?"

"Done."

You spend the rest of the walk talking mostly about Peter. You love asking the questions and he loves answering even more. You learn about his life in space, that he's not totally human like you thought, and you even get into discussing music by the time you've reached the lobby.

"I guess that's it for today." You try to hide your disappointment as you both stand a few feet from the front desk—you already know him well enough to sense he doesn't need more of an ego boost.

"Yeah. It was great running into you, you kicked ass on the field."

"You too," you look up at him but suddenly have the urge to avoid eye contact, "Thanks for walking me back."

"Anytime."

***

Your night at the hotel felt longer than usual and you couldn't quite make out why. Maybe the room just wasn't as comforting as it looked in the pictures. Maybe you didn't get as much sleep as you wanted because you were too excited to see this spaceship you've heard so much about. Whatever the case, 10:00AM couldn't come fast enough, and by 9:30, you were already sitting in the hotel lobby, your leg bouncing with excitement. You feverishly check your watch and sneak glances out the tall, sunlit windows hoping you'd see your talkative new friend. 'Relax. You're never this antsy over a man,' You try to tell yourself. You sigh and close your eyes to ground yourself a little more.

"Stood up?" A gravelly, unfamiliar voice asks you.

"Huh?" Your eyes shoot open and dart towards the stranger in front of you. He's older, lean, and a bit too close for comfort. You stand up and take a step back. He takes a step forward.

"I asked if you got stood up. A pretty lady like you shouldn't be all alone." You can smell the alcohol; he's probably from the hotel bar. 'This early? Gross.'

"No, I'm just a bit early. Thanks for your concern, but you can head back to the bar."

"You should join me. You'd have more fun with my buddies and I." You're not sure if you should knock his lights out now or try to get someone's attention; you absolutely hate making a scene, and you can't tell what would cause less of a disturbance to the otherwise empty lobby.

"This guy bothering you?" You feel a hand on your waist, and you hate to admit it, but it provides a sense of comfort. You fight your instinct to roll your eyes—of course he of all people would love to save the damsel in distress; he's probably practiced that line in the mirror.

Nevertheless, you lean into him to sell your relationship a bit more, "I think we're fine. He was just leaving."

The creep goes pale; Peter is large. Even when drunk, he knows there's no way in hell he was going to beat him in a fight.

"Uhh. That's right. Have a great day, you two." He stumbles back towards wherever he came from, and you quickly turn to face your saviour.

"My hero." Sarcasm drips from your voice, "Thank you for saving me, Star-Lord." You roll your eyes and everything, but after saying hero, nothing else could penetrate his skull.

He smiles widely and his face tints red at the use of his name, clearly oblivious to your mockery, "No problem! It's expected of a Guardian like me." You can't help but laugh; He's just so dumb.

On the way out of the lobby, you quickly check your watch—‘9:43; he’s early, too.’ You smile to yourself, trying to keep it subtle.

You sharply inhale the strange, almost Earth-like air as he leads you in the direction of the aircraft dock near the edge of the city.

"It's still strange to me that ship docks even exist," You try to break the silence, "We've never had a need on Earth."

"Yeah, it's mostly a No-Fly zone for the other planets. Doesn't help that there's not much there anyway."

"Earth has a lot of problems, but it's not bad, I think. Maybe you should visit sometime. I've only just left and I'm already pretty homesick." It's only a half-truth; You've felt this way since you've left your family for S.H.I.E.L.D—it's a lonely life, being a hero.

"... Maybe. I don't know. My home's on that ship now. I'm not even sure what family I've got left there on Terra." You can tell he's got mixed feelings about his life back on Earth. You know better than to pry.

You only notice now that his hand is still on your waist from the lobby once he sighs and tightens his grip around you a little. You're farther from Earth than you've ever been, but you notice that the closer you are to Peter, the less you feel that pit in your stomach telling you to come home. And it’s probably wishful thinking, but you hope that maybe he feels the same way around you.

***

"Who the flark is this?" You separate from Peter only to use him as a shield from the talking raccoon,

"Uh, we've been on missions together before? I'm the gun girl?" you squeak out from behind him. You wanted to make a good impression, but it's a little hard to do when you're the only one on the ship with manners.

He squints, "... Widow?"

"No, the other one."

"Oh." He completely loses interest in you and goes back to working on whatever death machine he's tinkering with. You're not sure whether to be relieved or take offence.

"Yeah, that's Rocket. He's a real sweetheart." Peter takes to holding your hand as he guides you through the ship, meeting the rest of his crew one by one. It's an interesting group on a near dysfunctional aircraft, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't see the appeal.

Eventually, Peter leads you to the cockpit. Your eyes widen as you step towards the control panel.

"You can actually fly this thing?" You ask in awe, with one hand still holding his and the other tracing over the dashboard. You don't need to look at him to hear the smugness in his voice,

"Yup. Pretty cool, right? We'd have to get a seat added for you if you stay with us long enough, but it shouldn't take long to install."

"And where would I sleep if I were to ditch my hotel like you mentioned?" Again, you're definitely not considering joining his crew. You just want out of that hotel and you have a healthy curiosity.

"Uh... There's always my room?" Your head jolts to Peter who's shooting you his best flirtatious grin. It's goofy.

You giggle, "Only if you're fine with sleeping on the floor." Truth be told, staying with him does sound a lot better than a dingy hotel with a lobby that serves alcohol at 9:00AM. But you're not the type to sleep with someone you've only just met, even if you really want to, and even if it's only in the literal sense. Besides, you like Peter, but it’s hard to know just how many cute girls received the same treatment before you.

"Fair enough," He sighs, "There's a spare bedroom that's all yours if you want it."

"I might just take you up on it. Did you know S.H.I.E.L.D isn't even covering my room costs? total bullshit." You tactically leave out that you can more than afford it and you just want to spend more time with him (and maybe Mantis, who seemed absolutely lovely).

"Sounds good, we'll both be here for a couple weeks anyway until we're given the go-ahead to... what was it? 'Fuck off and do space things?'"

"That's right."

"Right. So yeah, My ship is your ship or whatever. But not really." You giggle and note the possessiveness he has over the Milano, "Welcome aboard... Earth-Woman?"

"Absolutely not."

This time it's his turn to laugh, "The next one is gonna be killer though, Trust me."

You smile at him before gently squeezing his hand then letting go to fully face the cockpits windows. You can only imagine the stars and planets this ship has seen, captained by someone who, in your eyes, might be even prettier than the galaxy itself. Not that you'd ever say that to his face, of course.

***

As you tuck yourself into the spare bedroom you had to spend the day cleaning out (it was unknowingly used as a storage room for Rocket's stolen garbage), you notice that your typical sense of loneliness and dread is nowhere to be found. That homesickness you've been carrying for much longer than you'd left Earth has vanished completely, and you can't help but think it might have something to do with that handsome, snoring idiot who's in the room across from yours.

Notes: -2303 words

- please check out my ko-fi if u liked this! i’m a broke college student working full time, it’s hard to find the time to make these D:

-i'd love to make a sequel but its heavily dependent on how this first part performs! (that means you should like or reblog if u liked this ;)), without a part two this ones cute but on the underwhelming side imho -could be heavily out of character, I'm going almost exclusively off his voice lines in the game! feel free to shoot an ask recommending changes to the shot :) -nothing else to say, i love him so much <3

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[𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐳𝐞𝐧] Wornhardt x Reader One Shot

Summary: After an intimate moment that confuses Wornhardt, he can’t choose between closing the gap between you two and running away.

warnings: intense hand holding

"(Y/N), I know you don't want to hear it, but you really shouldn't be doing this. You're more banged up every time I see you— I'm worried." Wornhardt's tone is low as he finishes cleaning your wound. he refuses to look up; refuses to make eye contact.

"You know I don't want to. If I could melt down my sword or burn my bow I would have. But if I don't do this, no one will." Your conversations with Wornhardt are typically a bit more lighthearted, with you surprising him with little gifts from your adventures and him talking about whatever mischief Charlie's been up to. It's mundane, but during moments like these where the air is heavy and you both feel a bit guilty and nothing can fix it, you miss the mundane more than ever.

"You could at least be more careful — you're lucky you don't need stitches."  He holds your hand gently as he examines your arm. the cut is deep, clean, and so close to the brachial artery. Wornhardt pauses, only for a moment, at the thought of what could have happened. if you were slashed just a little deeper. If you lost just a bit more blood. If you couldn't reach the town in time and he was just a bit too late to help you.

He shakes his head and says nothing else. He's nothing if not professional, after all. But as he reaches for the bandage to begin wrapping you up, you notice the slight tremble in his hand. You're nothing if not observant, but you don't know what to say. You can't apologize; you’re far too headstrong to actually be more careful, and apology without change is manipulation. You can't comfort him; He's just a friend. Your doctor. A kind man who's worried about his patient. Nothing deeper, surely.

You both want nothing more than to say something you shouldn’t, and so you settle for jagged breathes and awkward eye contact as he inches closer to continue his work. his touch lingers a bit too long during the wrapping, abruptly followed by him pulling away the moment you both notice as though you’re hot to the touch.

You've slain more monsters than you could count, but reaching out to retrieve his hand was perhaps the bravest thing you've done.

"Thank you." You say, before loosening his grip in case you've crossed a boundary. He doesn't pull away, but doesn't say anything either. He doesn't want his voice to betray him. He can't crack in front of a patient. But as he looks into your eyes one more time, you can see just a glimpse of all the affection and worry he's been hiding behind his friendly demeanour and pristine coat. It's not just that he can't speak; He's that not sure what to say even if he could.

And so there you both stay — frozen, silent, with you sitting on the cot you've come to know all too well and him sitting in front of you, hunched over in his chair, one hand gently holding yours and the other gripping a bandage roll.

You both know the drill. Nights like these aren't spoken of again. Wornhardt will discharge you the following morning, recommending you hold off on as much farm work as you can until your wound closes. You'll thank him for his advice, head back home, and ignore it entirely. The both of you will convince yourself the intimacy and tension in that hospital room was wishful thinking, and in a couple days, you'll both go back to your regular routine of pathetic pining the entire town can see, with Wornhardt fussing over a scrape you got from an berry bush or you bringing him a coffee or whatever else you can find to bring a smile to his face.

Except, that doesn't happen this time. It's been a day or two now, but you can still feel his hand in yours. Still see the worry in his eyes. Still sense that stillness of the room, a result of neither of you knowing whether to close the gap or back away.

***

It's been a week. you can't even bear to step into his office anymore to chat; it only ever devolves into this strange silence between the two of you where you ask about his day and he responds with as few words as possible.

You two haven't gone to the tavern together since before that night but it’s been three times now that you’ve sat at an empty table and spotted him at the bar, shooting not-so-subtle glances at you before feigning interest about his drink, or whoever’s sitting next to him, or really anything but you. Not that you’re jealous - it’s just weird going from closest friend status to stranger. And you’re jealous on top of that.

After a few minutes of this game you’ve been playing with him where you both stare at each other and try not to get caught, Anne eventually catches onto this ridiculous behaviour between you two and wastes no time plopping down beside you to interrogate you on this new drama.

"So," She gestures over to Wornhardt who's now flitting through some sort of notebook, "Spill."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You'd almost sound convincing were it not for your dreamy tone as you stare at him; the average person might find bringing work to a tavern a little off putting, but you can't help but admire his dedication.

"Oh, come on. It's obvious something happened otherwise he'd be sitting in this chair instead of me." She pries. "So? Did you tell your boyfriend you needed some space or something?"

"Huh?" You jump at the accusation and finally face her instead of the doctor. "We're not even dating!"

"Oh." She concedes only for a moment, a bit miffed she was given bad information on your relationship. You think she might actually stay quiet until she perks up with her next guess, "Weird hookup, then?"

"Absolutely not!"

"But I'm getting closer, right?" She pries once more.

You sigh. She's not known for keeping secrets, but you've wanted to get this off your chest for a while and Anne honestly isn't a bad listener. You finally cave, "Hardly. I held his hand the last time I was admitted to the hospital, and now he freezes up when he sees me. He won't even talk to me. I'm totally lost." You break eye contact with Anne to look down at your hand as if there might be something wrong with it.

Anne only makes a sort of gagging noise in response; this situation is so boring and mushy she can't even gossip about it later. You roll your eyes before continuing, "Come on, you don't even have advice? Since you asked, give me something back."

Anne thinks for a moment before finally responding, "He must just be nervous. Maybe it’s Doctor-Patient whatever boundaries. You have to make the first move if you want something to happen."

"What type of move should I make?" You're doubtful she's right, but advice is advice.

"I don't know. Go to his house and give him a good night for all I care. You know - hold his hand or something wild like that," She stands up and turns away, "Good luck with your flaming-hot romance." She teases you one more time before sauntering back to her table, but you can't help but appreciate her nosiness. Yeah, you're embarrassed, but Anne's advice is still leagues better than no advice at all.

***

You lie awake in bed that night, one hand in the other, mind mulling over every detail of that evening in the hospital. You felt how close he was to you. You think about his breath hovering just over your lips - there's no way he needed to be so close during a wrapping, right? So why are his replies so short? Why won't he invite you to the tavern anymore? Why does he stare when you enter a room? Could Anne actually be right about this?

You check your wall clock; it’s well past midnight, but you know you're not sleeping without closure. And you know Wornhardt well enough to know he's not sleeping right now either.

With a final, frustrated huff, you jump out of bed, throw on a coat and some boots, and stomp out your front door, pyjamas and all.

'You're getting an answer out of him whether he likes it or not,' you convince yourself as you march through the streets of the town. You try your hardest to keep that confidence up, but which each step you take you can feel it drain from your chest out into the chilly autumn air. By the time you reach his home, you're so focused on stopping the shivering you have to re-steel yourself just to knock on the door.

It takes a moment, but you finally manage to knock. And to no surprise, he answers. He's wearing a tight T-shirt and pyjama pants, and your confidence falters once more as you quickly pry your eyes off his muscles and meet him at eye-level.

"Wha-" his voice catches in his throat after realizing who paid him a visit.

"Who do you think you are?" You blurt. It comes out harsher than you wanted, and you consider covering your mouth and apologizing before remembering how angry you're supposed to be. After a moment of silence, you realize that's a hard thing for Wornhardt to respond to, so you clear your throat and continue, "We haven't went a day without talking to each other for the past year! Now you can't even say 'hi' when you run into me at the grocer? what gives?"

No response other than a bewildered expression on his face. You study him, looking for any hint of an answer. His eye bags are darker than usual and his hair is just a bit more wild than you're used to - he hasn't been sleeping well either. But as you look into his eyes for anything more, you notice that same look you caught a glimpse of at the hospital; affection, fear. It's just the information you need to do exactly what Anne told you to do — make a move.

You take a step closer. Now that you're chest to chest you notice just how much taller he is as you crane your neck upward, refusing to be the one to break eye contact.

Your goal was to prevent this "freeze" response of his and make him either make a move himself or step back; either way you'd have your answer. But as you stand pressed against him, one hand on his chest, you worry, just for a moment, that maybe you're being way, way to forward. Luckily, that uncertainty is slowly washed away by Wornhardt wrapping an arm around the small of your back and pulling you just a bit closer; partially because he can tell you're both chasing that intimacy you experienced at the hospital, partially because he can tell you're cold and doesn't want you to get sick. It takes a moment longer, but he eventually speaks.

"I can't love someone who will just self destruct, but I can’t just be friends with you either. Either option is killing me." You had expected more vulnerability in his voice as he spoke softly with your head buried in his chest, but he sounds as confident as ever as he uses his free hand to softly trace up and down your healing arm. You want to fight back, to tell him it's your duty, to tell him you need to save Sun Haven at whatever cost, but you pause before you speak.

You listen to his heart beat. It's even more rapid than yours; he's probably practiced this line, worried he wouldn't be able to speak if you chose to confront him. You feel his free hand trace over every scar you have on that arm, and then on your side, even over your sweater. You realize he remembers every single scratch cut and bruise he's helped you heal from.

You don't try to convince him your safety is a worthwhile sacrifice. You're not that strong a person. In fact, you crumble under all that love he's shown in just a few simple touches.

"Then I'll be more careful. For you." You whisper it as though you’re ashamed to treat your life with respect; to love someone enough to even consider not being a martyr for the Sun Dragon.

You hear him let out a sigh as he processes what you said. He takes just a moment to let your words wash over him before promptly guiding you inside his home, closing his door, and kissing you up against it. Both his hands are now tight at your waist and you waste no time frantically kissing back, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I can't watch you get hurt so often." He says between kisses. He's wanted this much longer than you first realized.

"I'll pack more health potions. I'll pack 50. I'll be the healthiest adventurer the world has ever seen if it means you'll stop avoiding me." You giggle a bit, and your words make their way directly to his heart.

While you're in his arms he knows you're safe, and he briefly considers never letting go as he pulls you closer once again for another kiss. In the sheer moment of bliss between the two of you, with each kiss somehow conveying even more love than the last, he forgets why he ever froze at your touch in the first place.

Notes:

-2,339 words

-sorry for the mid end i had to stop myself before we got into softcore porn territory

-not my greatest work and yet probably the best wornhardt one shot ever (there are no other wornhardt one shots) ALL THREE WORNHARDT FANS RISE UP

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are you still taking requests? I don’t see a page saying anything about it

i am! i’ll make a landing page or whatever they call it tonight :) still learning tumblr, so sorry for the wait !!

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[𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤] Yami Yuugi x Reader One Shot

Summary: You briefly return to Domino City as an adult and reunite with your high school crush at a bar.

warnings: alcohol usage but it’s pretty minor

"I thought you said you knew a place, Joey." You said, inspecting the building that stood before your small group. The sun was beginning to set on Domino City, and as the lights came on, you noticed a letter was burnt out on the sign. Aside from some much needed TLC It didn't seem like a terrible looking bar, per se, but you really weren't expecting to be dragged to a bar in the first place.

You walked up to the window before shifting your stance to get a better look at the group, "Does Tea even drink? I thought it gives her a stomach ache." you glanced over to the only other girl in the group who shrugged nonchalantly in response. You rolled your eyes at Tea's reply as you briefly thought back to your grad party from high school a few years ago. You don't exactly remember how the gang acquired that much alcohol in the first place, but you can't forget how horribly it ended.

"C'mon, it's been years since we've all been together, you with your big boss work and Yug', Yami and I with all our tournaments. When's the last time we partied together, and who knows when you'll visit us next!" Joey pleads as you move to look through the old but decently maintained windows.

The bar was packed, the music was loud, and the colourful lights weren’t quite blinding, but they were enough to overwhelm your senses even from the outside. It being a Friday, you had figured that today would be the busiest week for a business like this, but if you hadn't known better, you'd have thought this would be bordering on a rave.

But even so, Joeys right. it's been a while since you gave yourself the opportunity to let loose and have fun, and it took the stars aligning for you to be in the same place at the same time as your old friends.

"Please, (Y/N)," Joey continues, "It's the best bar in Domino City, trust me! we'll have a great time."

You hesitated before asking, "Tea, you seriously want us to spend the night here too?"

"I don't see why not. I don't get to drink often, I might as well try it while we're all together."

That settled it. If you didn't agree now, you'd just be an inconvenience instead of the voice of reason.

"Fine. Does everyone else know we're meeting here?" You asked Joey.

"Yup. Tristen couldn't make it but Yami and Yuugi are showing up soon, I think they're on their way!"

Your heart stopped at the mention of Yami, your high school crush who you've lately fell out of contact with. If you had to reunite with him again, maybe some liquid courage couldn't hurt. Not that you were nervous of course, no, you've definitely overcome something as silly as a childhood crush, it's just that-

"Hello? Earth to (Y/N), are you with us?" You shook your head as Joey's waving hand snapped you out of your paralysis, and only then did you realize just how red your face became.

"Yeah, sorry, I... Fuck it, let's go in." You gathered your thoughts and turned to face the front door before slowly pushing it open.

The smell of alcohol, cocktail syrup and 150 people in a room that's not quite built for that capacity hit you like a truck, and you had to concentrate just to avoid getting overwhelmed. once inside, the three of you chatted for a little bit longer before you announced that you're heading to the bar for a drink, and within seconds, you were lost in the sea of rambunctious young adults.

You managed to "excuse' me" and "sorry" your way through the crowd and eventually broke free to find yourself two free barstools. you snagged them both, covering one with your jacket before promptly ordering yourself a rum and coke and not-so-subtly staring at the front entrance like a lovesick puppy. Joey said the rest of the group would be here soon, so where were they?

you solemnly drank your order once it arrived, and once you were out, you ordered one more to dampen the disappointment of your friends being late.

Every now and then Tea and Joey would visit you to chat and have a drink before vanishing in the crowd, and after about 20 minutes you considered getting up and doing the same. You weren't one for dancing, but moping at the bar wasn't your style either. Just as you were about to finish up your drink you felt a presence behind you and lips dangerously close to your ear.

"Is this seat taken?" You gasped at the voice and nearly froze in place.

"Yami? O-Of course! Oh my god, it's been years!" Your voice came out a bit shaky, but you could tell the alcohol's been working wonders considering you could talk to him at all. You whipped your head around to see those same piercing eyes you fell in love with years ago as he sat beside you and offered a warm but confident smile.

"It has. I'm sorry we're late, Yuugi had to do something last minute but I'm glad we didn't miss you. How have you been?"

And almost instantly you both reconnected like you had just talked yesterday. The pounding bass and shouting of the crowd seemed to fade away as you both became enthralled by what the other had to say, and though neither of you noticed it, it didn't take long for you two to revert to your old, bashful yet flirtatious selves around each other. You talked and drank and talked even more, and eventually you were both giggling messes, recalling all the crazy shenanigans you got up to when you were younger.

A lull in the conversation transpired, and as your laughing wore off, you watched Yami get up and extend a hand.

"Care to dance?" He spoke with confidence, but you noticed the slight blush on his cheeks. You hoped he was blushing from you and not the alcohol.

"I don't know how..." You hesitated for a moment, but if it meant more time with the man of your dreams, you wouldn't mind stepping on some toes. you gently took his hand and he guided you into the crowd.

"Me neither, but I don't think we need to!" His intimate tone transformed into shouting just so you could hear him, as the singing and laughing and yelling from the dance floor completely drowned him out otherwise. You looked around to see he was completely right. Most people were jumping, shuffling about, or gave up on "dancing" altogether and just used the dance floor as an excuse to make out with their partner.

You laugh, "Sure, but can you at least lead?"

"Hardly, but I can try."

Tipsy from the alcohol and high from being near him, you naturally let go of any anxieties and followed his lead, getting lost in his eyes as you did so.

You were both anonymous in the sea of terrible dancers, laughing and stumbling and growing ever closer as time went on, but to each other, the two of you were the most important people in the world. So important, even, that for a brief moment, the world seemed to slow down. The laughter and the shouts and the music was drowned out, and the bright, rapid lights suddenly weren't so intense.

You were pressed up against him, your faces slowly drawing closer. You closed your eyes, elated that you finally got to be intimate with the man you've secretly loved for years. It was finally happening. His hands were on your waist, you could feel his breath on your skin-

"Hey Yam- OH! Oh shit, my bad, you guys! Holy shit, just wanted to let you know it's getting late so we're taking off. Fuck. Seriously man, won't happen again." You sighed and laid your head on Yamis shoulder as Joey broke the world record for what was perhaps the worst timing in existence.

"Alright, thanks Joey." Yami replied, clearly exasperated as he dropped one hand from your waist.

"Have fun, Lovebirds! We'll see you tomorrow!" Tea chimed in, and from your peripheral vision, you saw Yuugi give you both a thumbs up.

"Sounds good." you mumbled, still pressed against Yami's shoulder as they finally walked off. Once torn away from your tipsy fairy-tale dream with Yami, you were quick to realize it wasn't just the intimate moment that made the crowds seem quieter; the bar was actually just closing soon.

With a sigh, you pried yourself off his shoulder, "I guess we should head home soon, too."

You felt Yami's other hand hesitantly leave your waist, "I guess so. May I walk you home?"

"I'd love that, but I actually haven't booked a hotel yet." you replied sheepishly.

"You can stay with me, then." And with that he placed his hand around your waist once more to prevent you from getting lost in the dwindling crowd and guided you out the door. He didn't recognize the implications of what he said until after he said them, but he seemed even more prideful than usual once he realized you didn't object.

Once outside you took a sharp breath in before stumbling down the stairs and leaning against Yami for some extra support. The crisp air was welcome after being in a stuffy bar for hours, but it didn't take long for you to start gently shivering against him. Yami noticed and seemed nearly eager to prove what a gentleman he was by covering you with his coat. You smiled at his act of generosity, no matter how cliche, and leaned yourself slightly deeper against him. You can't remember if the tension has always been this high between you too, but if so, you certainly realize now why the gang had always been teasing you two about getting together.

The walk home was quiet and peaceful, only occasionally sharing words or offering bashful smiles at each other.

If it wasn't for the nasty headache and blurred vision you were developing from the drunkenness wearing off, you could have sworn it might have been the perfect night. You tried hiding just how sick you were to stop Yami from worrying, but he was much too mindful (and you were much too obvious).

"(Y/N), are you alright?" He asked as he noticed you stumbling more than usual. He tightened his arm around your waist for more support.

"...'M fine." You barely murmured out. With a job as important as yours you rarely got to drink, and this time it seemed not being aware of your limit came back to bite you.

"Clearly not. Are you comfortable walking?"

Not trusting your voice at the moment, you nodded yes before nearly tripping, narrowly being saved by Yami. "No need to be stubborn, I just don't want you getting hurt," He offered a genuine, apologetic smile before slipping his other arm under your knees and carrying you bridal style. As embarrassed as you were, you admittedly loved the closeness. "Don't worry, we're almost there." he reassured you. You snuggled into his chest in response and promptly rested your eyes.

---

When you came to, you were laying in what you presumed to be Yami's bed, with Yami himself nowhere in sight. the lights were dimmed but just bright enough to see all of the Duel Monsters merchandise in his otherwise minimalistic room, and you giggled to yourself as you were reminded just how much of a nerd he was despite his punk appearance.

"Oh, you're awake." You heard Yami call from the hallway. He quickly came to your side with a glass of water and some ibuprofen, and you couldn't help but stare once your eyes finally focussed on him. His studded belts were off and he had changed into more comfortable clothing, and you just barely managed to catch his composed demeanour falter as you shamelessly eyed him up and down.

He cleared his throat before extending his hand holding the medicine, "I got these for you. If I had known you were this drunk I would have brought you home sooner to help you. You were good at hiding it." he smiled as he spoke gently so as not to worsen any potential headache you may have had, and you couldn't help but blush as you graciously accepted the pills and water.

"You don't have to baby me, you know," You tried to sound like you were fine on your own, but your clumsiness as you reached for the pills clearly betrayed you.

Yami chuckled, "I'm just looking after a friend." your relaxed smile faltered for a moment at the word, but you managed to at least finish your water without complaints.

"Just 'friend'?" You asked, passing back the glass. Once again you tried to sound cool and composed, and once again, Yami saw right through it.

"Unless you'd like to be something more," Yami took back your glass and pulled your covers back up to your neck, "But we can discuss that another day, if you'd like. Get some rest— I'll be sleeping in the living room if you need me." You watched as he stood up from your bedside and turned to leave, and in a panic you couldn't help but grab his wrist.

"Stay with me?" You asked, any sense of nonchalance disappearing as you pleaded with your eyes, "Please, Yami." Your grip on him tightened as he weighed his options, still nervous about overstepping.

"Alright," he finally decided, "let me grab my pillow." You squealed with joy before unhanding the poor man, and quickly rolled over to the other side of the bed to make room for him. The moment he got into bed you were lightning fast to return to his arms, which he happily tightened around you as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"I know I'm drunk, but I think I still love you." You confessed. You felt his body tense up before relaxing once again, this time with a smile gracing his lips.

"I know I'm drunk, but I think I do, too." He shifted his position to kiss your forehead, and you smiled impossibly wider before cuddling even closer to him, succumbing to sleep in his arms.

Notes: -2,399 words -you guys don't understand this was my imaginary husband as a kid. we were married. you wouldn't get it -cross posted on AO3 and Wattpad! thanks for reading!!

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[𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞] Chamber x Reader One Shot

Summary: You’re an agent for the Valorant Protocol who deeply values their morning routine of drinking coffee alone. That is, until, the new guy gently disrupts it.

warnings: trauma from missions, insomnia, mostly comfort/fluff though

You woke up abruptly in a cold sweat, an experience that's common yet seldom talked about within the Valorant protocol. Mission after mission, kill after death, it's bound to take a toll on one's psyche eventually.

Alas, you were up now, which was slightly less upsetting than returning to your dream. You checked your clock; you rarely got enough sleep, but maybe today you've gotten lucky and achieved Sage's recommended 8 hours.

"5:30?" you muttered to yourself, "Typical." With a groggy stretch and yawn, you dragged yourself out of bed. Skye and Deadlock have probably already left for their morning run, and you were sure the other agents wouldn't be up for a few more hours. Might as well just keep your pyjamas on then, surely no one was going to see you anyway.

You got ready for the morning and left your room to find the communal kitchen. It was a bit early for breakfast but you figured it was as good a time as any for an absurdly large mug of coffee.

You put on a pot, plopped down on a nearby chair, and rested your eyes as you listened to the coffee machine slowly do its work, drip by drip. These mornings were quite peaceful, all alone as the sun slowly greeted you through the windows. You were used to working in solitude, so switching to cooperating with Valorant has been quite a struggle. The agents were kind for the most part and you were grateful to be a part of such a caring team, but you still cherished every moment you had to yourself.

Moments later, that time alone was interrupted by footsteps making their way towards you. You let out a sigh of annoyance and opened your eyes to witness a complete stranger wander into the kitchen. They were possibly the most attractive and elegant man you've ever seen, and it admittedly took a moment to stop staring.

"Um," you started, before realizing you were still in your quite revealing pyjamas. You cleared your throat in a meagre attempt to gain your composure, "I... don't believe we've met. You must be the new recruit I've heard about. Chamber, I think it was?"

He was already at the coffee machine, searching  for the biggest mugs he could find. He glanced over to you, admiring you for only a moment before going back to searching the cabinets.

"That's right. It's a pleasure to meet you, chérie." He didn't ask your codename, probably because he's heard about you already. "Do you take anything in your coffee?"

You blushed at the pet name he's assigned to you so casually. Despite the intrusion, it's quite nice having someone make you coffee without you asking.

"Cream and sugar, please." He nodded and silently prepared both coffees before handing you your mug and sitting across from you, and you briefly caught scent of his expensive cologne. You took a sip of your coffee; he prepared it perfectly. You thanked him again and placed the mug down.

"So, Chamber," you started, "What are you doing awake so early?"

"Ah, I'm a weapons designer, you see. Sometimes inspiration strikes, and sleep must have to wait. Not only that, but it's rather hard to sleep comfortably in a place like this, no? I'm much too used to my home back in Paris." You nodded along, but you were only partially paying attention. You were already distracted just by his voice, and you nearly didn't hear his question, "And you? You seem quite tired, chérie, I worry you should be sleeping."

"Oh... I'm a bit of an insomniac is all," you lied, "Today I just got unlucky." In reality, you wanted nothing more than to go back to the days when your dreams weren't plagued with the horrors of the battlefield, but that's a bit heavy for a man you've only just met.

The silence was surprisingly comfortable, only occasionally making small talk but consistently enjoying each other's company. You were both mostly lost in thought, sometimes glancing at the other just to appreciate their beauty. Neither of you had really noticed.

"So," You break the silence. By now your coffee is only half full. "How do you bring your weapons into battle? The protocol has a policy of only buying from our manufacturer." You see his eyes light up at the mention of his passion before summoning a sidearm from the tattoos on his body. He chuckled at your bewildered expression before returning his gun back to his skin.

After a moment to take in what you just saw, you finally responded.

"That's... unique. Um, if you don't mind me asking, just how many of these tattoos do you have?"

"Would you like to come back to my room to see?" He flashed you a devious smile, and you almost choked on your final sip of coffee.

"You're quite the flirt."

"Only for you, chérie."

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn't waver. "You know how to flatter too. But the others don't trust you, and unfortunately, I'm sure there's good reason for it. It's going to take more than some smooth words to get me into bed, I'm sure you understand." you stood up and took his empty mug before washing them both and putting them away. You were too focussed on the mugs to see the look of frustration on his face. He was a perceptive man, but he didn't know the others thought so poorly of him they felt they had to warn you of his existence.

"I'll see you around, Chamber." You gave him one more smile before leaving to return to your room.

"I look forward to it, chérie."

---

You never would have guessed it, but that brief conversation with the frenchman had changed your morning schedule ever since. For the first time since you've joined the protocol, you truly looked forward to having your alone time interrupted.

You didn't know it, but the reason you've met Chamber so late was because the other agents actively prevented it. You were smart and independent, but your friends simply loved you too much to leave someone like you with someone like him.

Luckily for Chamber, you were both early birds, and no one was awake to keep you two apart during your morning coffee. Maybe he hasn't been the most... transparent man in the past, but he's made it his mission to prove to you he's someone you can trust. It didn't take long for him to fall in love with so much more than just your appearance, and even the others had noticed he'd stopped flirting with everyone except you.

Today, like any other day, he woke up early. Though he didn't need it, he had set an alarm for 5:30 ever since your first morning together to ensure he was able to make you coffee on time.

He put on his typical suit you mentioned you liked, and quietly made his way to the kitchen.

As usual, he'd made you both coffee and had sat down, but for the first time in months, you were nowhere to be seen. He waited as long as he could, but he eventually got worried. Did you find something out about him? Were you scared of him because of it? He shook his head in an attempt to silence such thoughts, but he couldn't even finish his coffee before promptly heading to your room to make sure everything was okay.

He hesitated for a moment before building up the courage to knock.

"Ma Chérie?" His voice was gentle, "Is everything alright?"

No response.

"May I come in?" He asked after a moment. He was hoping you were just sleeping, but you've mentioned your nightmares before and how they're even worse than what most of your coworkers experience. He heard the faintest choked sob from the other side of the door, and took it as permission to enter.

There you were, crying silently on your bed. You were too exhausted to even be embarrassed by your now best friend seeing you like this.

"Oh, chérie... What's the matter? Is there anything I can do?" Chamber cautiously made his way to the bed. He wasn't used to comforting people, as he's never had as close a connection as he had with you. All he knew was that he desperately wanted you to feel better.

"It... It was just another dream. It's nothing." You tried so hard to mask the fear and sadness in your voice, and Chamber saw right through it.

"Can you tell me about it?"

You didn't respond. How could you tell him that his imaginary death is what brought you over the edge? That you've fallen in love with someone so deeply the thought of them leaving is unbearable? Especially when that someone is an attractive millionaire with thousands of potential girlfriends to choose from? The last thing you needed to hear was his smug laugh as you fuelled his ego.

But his ego was the last thing on his mind. More than anything, he just wanted you to feel better. "Please?" He asked, softer this time.

After a while, you finally answered. Your voice was hoarse and you could barely speak. you must have been crying for hours.

"You died. We were on a mission, and I couldn't help you. Sage couldn't save you. You were gone." The tears returned, stronger this time. "I was alone again."

Chamber was shocked. First of all, him? Dead? Impossible, he was simply too good. Second of all, he couldn't believe the mere thought of his death was affecting you like this. He was quite confident in himself, but to him you were magnificent, and he had figured you could never care for him the way he cared for you.

"There's no need to cry, mon amour. I'm here now. You know how safe I am on my missions, I'm not going anywhere." He sat down on your bed and grabbed your hand. You squeezed it tight, thankful for the reassurance. After a minute, he spoke once again.

"I have dreams like this too. About you." your sobs went quiet as you tried to focus on what he was saying. "I wouldn't be able to go another day without you, chérie. But I know how much of a menace you are on the battlefield. And even if things get... complicated during these missions, I will always put you first. I'll die if it means ensuring your safety. That's what I tell myself whenever I have dreams like these." He paused. He's a flirtatious man, but he's never said words like these out loud. He wasn't sure if now was a bad time, but maybe it would at least distract you from your dream.

"I love you too much to ponder you leaving me. It'd be torture." He finished.

Your eyes went wide. You were too stunned to speak. You both stayed like that for a while, you curled up in the fetal position with the now slightly disheveled man sitting beside you, holding your hand.

with a shaky breath, you finally spoke. "Can you please lay with me?"

He was surprised, but happily obliged. he loosened his tie and got under the covers with you, before gently placing an arm around your waist. He treated you like glass, or like you'd disappear if he did anything more.

"I love you too, Vincent." you smiled, and your tears slowly halted as you felt sleepiness take over.

He pulled you ever so slightly closer to him, and a single tear escaped him and found its way to the pillow under his head. He was grateful you were turned away and couldn't see.

Tomorrow, you will both be sent on your next mission. You'll both have to kill. You'll both have to see the person you love more than anything get shot at. You'll have to report back to Brimstone once it's over and pretend to be unaffected by the violence.

But that's the last thing on your mind. Today is the first time in months either of you had stayed in bed past 6 am. Chances are, you'll both wake up hours later, your bodies finally catching up on some much needed rest.

For the first time in months, you won't suffer from nightmares. He won't lay awake, fearing the other agents will finally convince you to avoid him.

The coffee he brewed for the two of you will get cold. For the first time in months, it will sit abandoned in the communal kitchen, for all the agents to see and wonder where you both went. And the two of you couldn't care less.

Notes: -2,119 words -allat just to be hardstuck silver is crazyy -cross posted from AO3 and Wattpad! thanks so much for reading <3

[rose-gold-bullet]

[𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰] - Giyuu Tomioka x Reader

Summary: You get injured while fighting a demon and Giyuu helps to bring you back to health.

warnings: none aside from the injury the reader endures and maybe a gross amount of fluff

"It hurts."

"I know." Giyuu spoke softer than usual in an attempt to calm you down as he took off his haori to create a makeshift bandage.

You struggled to maintain your breathing technique as you bled out on the forest floor. The pain you felt in your dominant arm was horrid, but it was nothing compared to shame you felt as you were sloppily nursed back to stability by your companion for the mission you were assigned. You were a member of the Hashira after all; how could you let yourself be torn down in battle by such a low level Kizuki? You were able to land the final blow, but not without substantial damage to your own body.

If you wanted to be honest with yourself, you knew exactly what impeded your typically flawless movements; you were distracted by him. The same man frantically wrapping his haori around your wound in a subpar attempt to stop the blood loss.

You couldn't help it; as cliche as it sounds, you felt like his eyes were designed to get lost in.

"Can you stand?" His voice pulled you from your thoughts.

"I hope so. Can you help me up?" Your response was shaky and barely loud enough to be heard.

He slowly stood and pulled you up with him. You tried as hard as you could to steady yourself once he let go, but all the motivation in the world couldn't stop your legs from buckling. You gasped as you shut your eyes and waited for the harsh impact with the cold ground.

Unsurprisingly, such impact never came.

"Thanks." You muttered, trying to hide your embarrassment as you were being carried bridal style through the forest and soon onto a dirt road.

'As if I couldn't appear any more pathetic...' your brain assaulted itself with more negative assumptions than ever before, and you dug your face into Giyuu's chest to hide the upset expression you could feel plaguing your usually neutral features.

The walk to the Butterfly Estate was a bit of a long one, but it was necessary for a Pillar to receive the best care for mangled limbs.

Much of the said trek was made in silence.

After some time, you shifted your body so you could watch your surroundings. If it weren't for the trail of blood you were leaving with every step the visibly concerned man took, it'd be a perfect night.

"Giyuu, isn't it lovely out tonight?" You finally spoke.

"You're sounding dangerously similar to Shinobu. I have more important things to worry about, as do you."

A breathy laugh escaped your lips. You could tell your own injury was making you a bit delirious.

"You needn't be so serious. We both know I'll recover," you took a ragged breath, "I know you're a Pillar, but we're both allowed to enjoy life sometimes." You explained. As expected, there was no response.

You looked up at the night sky before taking another shaky breath, "You remind me of the moon."

"What?"

"Though, it's not nearly as handsome as you are." You spilled. You were too exhausted to care about whatever his response may be, and too inattentive to notice the slight blush that crept onto his face.

"I'll be sure to have the caretakers at the estate check for a concussion."

Once again, silence filled the open dirt road you were now following.

"I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused tonight. I should know to make myself more useful."

"You were more tha-"

"I think I'm going to fall asleep. Is that alright?" You intentionally cut him off as you knew you weren't strong enough for that sort of conversation. You glanced up at his face and waited for a reply.

He hesitantly nodded, "I'll wake you up if your breathing gets to slow. Dying isn't an opt-" Once again, He was cut off. This time, by the gentle snores escaping your lips. He sighed, exasperated, but was glad you were at least safe for now. With that peace of mind, he allowed the guilt he was struggling to carry lessen in weight ever so slightly.

'As if I couldn't appear any more useless.' He thought as he replayed the moment you cried out in pain over and over in his mind, wincing at every opportunity where he had the power to change the course of the fight but couldn't think fast enough in the moment.

---

You awoke in a bed you recognized almost immediately. You were one of the more frequent visitors at the Butterfly Estate, not because you were weaker but because it wasn't unheard of for you to throw yourself in front of enemy attacks aimed at others (most often protecting Giyuu).

"Oh good, you're awake! We'll let Mr. Tomioka know immediately." Three girls stood at the foot of your bed with a polite smile pasted on their faces.

"Wait- What are my injuries?"

"A severe laceration in your (dominant) arm as well as a fractured humerus and 2 broken ribs. Don't worry, Aoi took the necessary measures and you should make a complete recovery in around 3 weeks."

"Why would you let Giyuu know I woke up?"

"He's always the most concerned, miss! This time, he tried to sit in your room as you slept so he'd be there when you came to." One girl spoke up and they laughed in unison after. With that, they placed water and what you assumed to be pain medicine on your nightstand and left the room.

You laid completely still for a few minutes longer, piecing together the events before you blacked out. You felt your face heat up as you recalled the short exchange you had with Giyuu as he carried you to safety, and silently prayed he forgot about it.

Your thoughts were cut short by rapid footsteps increasing in volume from down the hall. Seconds later, there was a quiet knock at your door.

"Come in." Your voice was still weak, but it was a massive improvement in comparison to the night of the injury. The door slid open to reveal your evidently dejected friend. "Why are you still upset? The residents said I'd make a full recovery and the mission was successf-"

"I'm sorry." It was Giyuu's turn to speak over you. He hesitantly walked towards your bed and kneeled beside it. "I could have stopped this from happening. I could have saved you so much pain."

"That's not your responsibility-"

"It is. I'm there to keep you safe just as you're there to protect me. I failed." He closed his eyes and for only a second, you saw emotion far more intense than you've ever witnessed him showing before.

It almost broke you.

"You can't blame yourself for that! You're the one who kept me alive." You quickly tried to sit up to emphasize your point but flopped back down on the bed upon realizing you had no movement of your dominant arm to support you. "... A cast?" You shook your head in annoyance upon seeing it.

He spoke up once again. "Let me aid you back to health," there was a brief pause as he tried to find the right words, "As an apology for my negligence."

Normally, you'd immediately decline. You have far too much pride for your own good and would never want Giyuu to assume you were weak regardless. But a broken arm is beyond annoying, and maybe some extra time with him outside of life threatening missions would be nice.

You thought it over for a few seconds longer, "If you insist!" you offered a smile although you were nearly certain you'd somehow regret this decision later.

Needless to say, you were right.

---

"Giyuu, let go! I need to train!"

"You need to rest. How do you expect to even lift something as heavy as a sword with a cast on?" You desperately tried to squirm out of his grip as he pinned you to the bed.

"I'll figure it out! Come on, Aoi said I could!"

"No I didn't!" You both heard her call out from the hallway in response.

It was no use. The whole world was against you. You gave up, but not without pouting and complaining for another 20 minutes before making another pitiful attempt at escaping again.

"How have you managed to make full recoveries in the past?" Annoyance dripped from the poor man's lips.

"I'm lucky!" You grinned, before shutting your eyes and going back to sleep. You missed his eyes soften as he watched your sleeping form, before standing up quietly and leaving for a little while.

'Nows my chance!' You stood up and left your room, only to be carried back by the exasperated water breather, both passive-aggressively bickering all the while.

---

"I don't need constant care, you know. It's just a broken arm..." You trailed off as you thought of a way to get him to leave for a while. You enjoyed your time with him, but it was beginning to feel like you were being babysat.

No reply.

You stood up from your bed once again, this time receiving a suspicious glare from Giyuu. "Calm down, I'm only going to get some food."

He nodded at you, but didn't leave your bedside.

"You're... free to join me, you know." You specified once you sensed he wasn't quite sure what to do in your absence. He nodded once more and began trailing behind you as you made your way to a sort of cafeteria where recovering demon slayers can find food.

The food they offered at the time was ramen, which you graciously accepted, though knew from the start it would be a battle to eat it considering your injuries. You took two bowls, found a seat, and waved Giyuu over.

"Thanks so much for making sure I'm alright," you started, "but I swear I'll be fine." You stared down at your ramen before glancing at the chopsticks beside it, then back at the bowl. Maybe you could wait to eat until Giyuu leaves so you don't have to worry about making a fool of yourself, or perhaps you could say you weren't hungry after al-

"You should eat. You haven't had anything all day aside from your medicine."

You looked at Giyuu, then back at the chopsticks. You took a determined breath, then shakily grabbed your chopsticks with your non-dominant hand.

'I can do this,' you thought as you slowly picked up some noodles. Let's just say you weren't exactly ambidextrous. In fact, it's a miracle you got your feeble hand to hold the chopsticks at all.

'I can do this, I ca-' the very few noodles you were able to grab flopped back into your bowl and you could feel the hot liquid splash back in your face. 'No. No, I definitely cannot.'

Meanwhile, your so-called caretaker was struggling to keep his calm demeanour and you caught a glimpse of his mouth twitching up. "It's rude to laugh!" You huffed, but you couldn't keep a straight face either.

After a few moments, his expression shifted back from amused to concerned. "Let me help."

"...What?"

He took the chopsticks from your hands and picked up some noodles before putting them in front of your face. "Eat."

Your face became redder than you thought was possible as some recovering demon slayers snuck peaks at the the two Hashiras apparently sharing a meal.

"I'll pass." You choked out. Giyuu feeding you was not on your plan for the day. He furrowed his brows a bit and inched the noodles closer. You would've held your ground, but the growls coming from your stomach begged you to accept the help. You closed your eyes and quickly took a bite.

"Wow, I had no idea Tomioka and (L/N) were together!"

"I wonder if they were keeping it a secret. I always knew they were in love!" You both overheard the hushed voices erupting from a few of the recovering demon slayers in the room, but neither of you wanted to correct them as you took another bite.

---

You led Giyuu out to the gardens after your rather embarrassing meal.

"I'm not letting you train." He said firmly.

You laughed, "I know. After being stuck in the manor all day, I just figured we both could use some fresh air." What you said was mostly true; yes, you needed the fresh air, but it was more so to calm you down after what happened in the cafeteria.

He nodded, and you both stood in silence as you watched the sun begin to set. Being alone with him so long only confirmed for you just how much you fell for him; it was the comfortable silence that proved it.

You began to walk around the garden, admiring the way the plants glowed under the setting sun. Giyuu grabbed your good hand as you both continued to walk and you blushed at the contact.

"Don't worry! I'm able to walk on my own at least," you laughed in an attempt to hide your bashfulness, "it wasn't my legs that were injured!"

Giyuu admired your blushing face before revealing a soft, yet genuine smile.

"I know."

Notes: -2,204 words -maybe i'll update this with a cringe warning -cross posted on AO3 and Wattpad if you want to support me there as well <3 thank you for reading!! new to tumblr so bear with me here lol