#Fan art X-men the end

[kentnaturaltribrid]

Favorite X-men in Universe: Becca Munroe

Found that there’s no inbetween but that weather under the X-men is always one of the strongest. They’re even further inclined as mostly extrovert with a small amount of intensity towards introvert. They’re a ticking time bomb, but still the coolest.

As for X-men the end, it turns 15 years today! With that being said, the whole of the universe of X-men turns 18 years as of the same day. With that , there is no going back in time to change how it ends up affecting the rest of those who love comics and other media. However , the Weather users are still a prominent prolific well respected and influential part of the team. Despite many conflicts with the other and a strong temper, they’re one of the most powerful forces in nature and as a mutant they’re the fundamental force of reason and reality.

[captainthomasrobbie]

Here, take this.

*throws this at y'all*

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 1

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem) A/N: I don't know what I'm doing here, I'm not even much of a DC fan, but Jason Todd has quickly become my latest hyper fixation character (Harley Quinn too, do I just have a thing for Joker victims???) so ... thank you for giving me a place to put this energy I guess! 😂 I'm not super confident on the characterizations, but I'm going with it because I like it. If it's wildly ooc ... that tracks, given that the only DC comic I've read is Batman: Wayne Family Adventures. Read it, or don't, I just needed to get the thoughts out of my head. The art doesn't belong to me, but the writing does. Please do not post elsewhere!

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, starting out fluffy, will probably get NSFW later so minors DNI, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

word count: 1.7k

Chapter Selection

In a city known for its masked fighters, you learn pretty quickly that everyone and everything is a potential threat. Every approaching stranger on the street, every loud sound behind you, every dark alleyway. Being bigger than me certainly isn't a prerequisite to being a danger, but it does have a way of setting off my mental alarms. I've found that big men are used to getting their way, and they get all sorts of bent out of shape if you deny them their wishes. Especially when they think they're doing you a favor.

It died down a bit after high school; I learned to exist in public with ‘fuck off’ stamped across my face. Headphones on, reading a book, intentionally seated at the table furthest from the other cafe patrons. All the typical signs of someone who wants to be left alone; nothing about me said ‘please come talk to me'. So I was understandably on edge when I noticed someone standing by the chair across from me. I look up just a bit, gesturing to the chair with a nod. Silent consent to take it back to his table and leave me to my book.

No such luck. The man simply smiled and mimed taking headphones off. Putting a bored look on my face, I moved one off my ear. “... Hm?”

“Hi! I'm sorry to bother you, but my brother thinks you're really beautiful and is refusing to come tell you himself.” 

I could feel my expression turning to stone. “... What is this, middle school?”

His cheerful grin faltered ever so slightly; “hey, I know it's a bit silly, but he's awkward around cute girls, so what's a brother to do, ya know?”

I stared him down; “... You're not fooling anyone. Move on.”

“... Sorry, ‘fooling anyone’?”

“It’s not funny, it’s not even hurtful the 20th time, it's just annoying. Go. Away.” It was a lie; it was always painful to be on the receiving end of these pranks. But that was what these guys wanted, so I wasn't going to tell him that. My headphones back in place, the guy slunk away.

Ten minutes later, another person was standing by the chair. I pretended not to see him, continuing to read my book, until he plopped down in the seat. I looked up slowly and he smiled, another oddly warm smile, leaning forward on his elbows.

An incredibly put-out sigh later, I slid the headphones off one ear again. “What?”

“Hi, I'm Tim! I'm not sure what exactly my brother said to you, but I wanted to let you know - we're not trying to prank you or something. Our brother is just way too awkward with girls. It's painful to watch, really, so we figured we'd give him a hand.” He spoke much too fast for me to get a word in. I blinked a bit, raising an eyebrow.

“... You frat boys are really committing to the bit these days, huh?”

“Huh? No, really, I promise!”

My headphones were nearly back into place when a child showed up. His impatient expression matched how I felt about the whole situation. “As usual, Drake, your plans are far too convoluted to be effective. Watch and learn.”

He turned to me, nothing about his demeanor changing; “hello. Todd said we shouldn't bother you because you ‘clearly want to be alone’, but I am convinced the only way to stop their nonsense is if he comes over. May he have a moment of your time?”

Frowning a little, I stared at the kid. He stared right back, neither of us blinking for a solid minute as we sussed each other out. His expression barely changed, but the boredom in his eyes turned into determination. “... Well, you're definitely not a frat boy. So I'll make you a deal; you may report back that he has permission to come say hi. If he doesn't choose to, that's the end of this little charade. And if either of them” I gestured to the one sitting at my table; “comes back over here, I start stabbing. Got it?”

The boy nodded once, and I thought I saw a ghost of a smirk. “You have my word.” He dragged the other man out of the chair by his shirt, pulling him stumbling toward their table. That was when I saw him. The only person at their table who hadn't come over yet. Even hunched over the table he was enormous, probably close to six feet tall; exactly the kind of man I typically avoided. The kid spoke sharply, pointing in my direction, and his head shot up to look in my direction. Even from across the spacious patio, I could see his face turning red. The obnoxious, cocky smirk I was expecting to see was entirely missing; instead he seemed almost confused.

Headphones back on but turned off so I could hear if he approached, I returned to my book. But I only got through a few pages before the first one shouted; “and offer to get her another coffee or something!”

I looked over to see the tall one frozen halfway between our tables, a look on his face like he was considering jumping over the patio fence to get away. His demeanor reminded me of a lost puppy, and I couldn't help the chuckle that rose up out of my throat. I bookmarked my page, set the book aside, and slid my headphones down around my neck. I really thought he was about to bolt until I lifted one hand, curling my fingers to gesture for him to continue toward me.

He stopped short by a good several feet, eyeing the distance between himself and the chair, and took one extra step back. It seemed as if he was hyper aware of just how much he loomed over me; the way he stood was like he was trying to will himself to be smaller, and he kept his hands at his sides. “Um … hi. … Sorry, this is … this is really weird …”

I nodded, watching him. “It is a bit. … Todd, was it?”

“Jay… Jason.”

“Not Todd?”

“Jason Todd. Damian calls me Todd, he thinks using people's last names keeps them at an arm's length…” Jason Todd. The name felt familiar, but I couldn't place why. He continued to ramble about how important tone was in determining whether this Damian kid was referring to you with affection or disdain, and I watched him. He was admittedly very cute; he had a sort of a bad boy aesthetic -leather jacket, dark clothes, a white streak in his hair, some unusual scars on his face and arms-, which juxtaposed interestingly with the gentleness in his voice, bright eyes, and awkward mannerisms. That was actually the thing that made the most sense about this situation; bikers are often secret teddy bears.

“... Jason?”

He looked up at me, one hand sheepishly making its way into his hair. “Yeah, sorry, you want me to go. I'll get them to stop harassing you, so sorry-”

“Actually, I was going to say you don't have to stand the whole time.” I gestured to the chair across from me.

He hesitated, watching me. “... Y- you don't want me to go?”

I smiled softly and shook my head. “Sit?”

He quickly obeyed, a hesitant smile on his face, which was almost immediately hidden by his hand when his brothers whooped from their table. “... God, I'm so sorry … th- they mean well, really, they're not trying to be weird …”

I laughed softly, “it's fine, that's what siblings do, right?”

“... I guess so … I've been sort of … away for a while, but I guess this is pretty standard sibling behavior. … Right?”

“I mean, a little more insistent than mine, but not too far outside the realm of what I’d consider normal.” I shrugged, finishing my chai latte.

He smiled slightly, considering that. “... Hm … um … c- can I get you another?” He gestured to my cup.

“... Sure, I've got time.”

The pleased grin on his face as he looked away to flag down a server surprised me. Then again, everything about him was surprising. Still, no one had ever looked at me quite like that before… 

The server sauntered over, clearly curious about my new companion. Jason smiled brightly; “Hi, can we get another for the lady? And I'll have a medium black coffee, sweet, please.”

Huh. He called me a ‘lady’. Not a girl, or a chick, a lady. That was … also surprising. We chatted for a little while, sipping our coffees, and tried to ignore his staring brothers. He was incredibly awkward, in a sweet, endearing way. I got the impression that he wasn't fully comfortable, but chalked it up to how weirdly this all started. After a while, the first one returned, a small grimace on his face.

I raised an eyebrow; “I'm pretty sure I told the little one that the next one of you to come over was getting stabbed.”

“I know, I know! I'm so sorry, but Jay, we gotta go. Bruce texted…”

That was when it clicked; why I knew the name Jason Todd. He was a Wayne … his death had dominated the news cycle for a week. His miraculous, frankly poorly explained, return was the story for at least two.

He looked, torn, between me and his brother. “Oh … um …”

The man I finally recognized as Dick Grayson leaned forward and fake-whispered, “the words you're looking for are ‘can I have your phone number'?”

Jason swatted him away, blushing bright red; “Seriously, Dick? … well, can I-”

His ears were turning red as I held my hand out for his phone. I added my contact info and, feeling unusually bold, I added ☕💖 after my name while Jason dropped a couple of bills on the table; I smiled a bit, realizing he was leaving enough to cover my first drink for me too. I passed his phone back, enjoying the look of wonder on his face when he checked the screen. The way he whispered my name, like a prayer meant only for god's ears, had my stomach doing backflips.

“thanks … I'll call you?”

“Sounds good. I'm a night owl, so not too early, yeah?”

He nodded eagerly. “Not too early, promise.”

Next ->

[discow1tch]

Nightcrawler Comic Recs (for beginners)

This list is designed with fans who have little to no knowledge of X-Men comics in mind and with an emphasis on what I would call "fangirl appeal". Each title is listed in chronological order with descriptions, a reading order, and my reasoning for each of them under the readmore for those who need it. In my opinion, all of them are good places to start!*

I primarily read comics on Marvel's official app (marvel unlimited) but hoopla (free through many public libraries) and comixology are other good options for online reading. If you want physical copies you'll get the best deals at your local comic shop or on ebay.

If you have criticisms, additions, or continuity question feel free to hit up my ask box!

SERIES: ❥ Uncanny X-Men by Chris Claremont (1975) ❥ Excalibur by Chris Claremont (1988), Alan Davis (1991), and Warren Ellis (1994) ❥ Uncanny X-Men by Joe Casey (2001) ❥ Nightcrawler (2004) ❥ Uncanny X-Force by Rick Remender (a controversial choice since this isn't main universe/616 Kurt) (2010) ❥ Amazing X-Men (2014) ❥ Nightcrawler (2014)

OTHER RANDOM ISSUES**: ❥ Guardians Team-Up #6 ❥ Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur #17 (2017)

*with the exception of Uncanny X-Force. I wouldn't read this until you have a grip on 616 Kurt's characterization.

**these are primarily team ups I discovered through my habit of buying random comics with Kurt on the cover. I'll add more if I remember them.

Uncanny X-Men by Chris Claremont (1975) was an ongoing team book. The sixteen years of it that were written by Claremont are the iconic building blocks upon which all other X-Men comics are built. It's the book Nightcrawler was on from 1975 to 1988 (#94-227) after he was recruited by Professor X. Unfortunately, Kurt is rarely the main character. He has a lot of standout moments but is more likely to just be part of the team. If you like a sweet, sarcastic, curly haired Nightcrawler with terrible fashion sense this book might be for you!

How to start reading it:

Giant-Size X-Men #1 (his introduction, basically a series pilot that rebooted the X-Men).

Uncanny X-Men #94 (directly follows giant-size)

From there you can read numerically.

Read as much uncanny as you want. If it gets boring/isn't for you try Excalibur!

Specific issue recs if you don't want to start at the beginning:

#110: The X-Men fight a villain of the week who traps them in the danger room with the safety controls off. It's also the first (I think?) time the X-Men play baseball together. Kurt is really fun in this issue! #123 & 124: The X-Men fight Arcade for the first time. The issues are split pretty evenly between the whole team but Kurt has some really good moments. #139 & 140: Kurt goes to Canada with Wolverine. They fight a Wendigo with the canadian super-team Alpha Flight and he becomes the first X-Man to learn Wolverine's real name. The art in this is really expressive. Kurt makes a lot of good faces. #168: This issue isn't primarily about Kurt but it is the one where he does the Burt Reynolds cosmo centerfold pose for his girlfriend. #169: Continues from 168. Opens with Kurt in the bath with his girlfriend. He then teleports around the city naked to save someone. #183: Kurt and Wolverine take Colossus out drinking after he breaks up with Kitty. Kurt is there as "mediator" because he knows Logan is mad about the way Piotr treated Kitty. They end up getting into a fight with the Juggernaut at the bar. #204: Kurt restores his faith and self confidence by taking on Arcade solo when he sees a woman being kidnapped off the street.

Excalibur by Chris Claremont, Alan Davis, and Warren Ellis (1988-1998) was a self-contained ongoing comic that ran through the late 80's up through the mid 90's. Excalibur is the British X-Men adjacent team that Kurt joined and then became unofficial leader of when he thought the other X-Men had died. Excalibur is more magic and fantasy based than X-Men usually is. As written by Chris Claremont it's also basically a sex farce. I consider this book a definitive characterization of the character. The art by Alan Davis in the first ~50 issues is the sexiest Nightcrawler has ever been and probably ever will be. If you like a classically handsome, confident, overtly sexy Nightcrawler this series might be for you.

How to start reading it:

Excalibur: The Sword is Drawn (shows the team being formed, basically the series pilot). There's a ton of Deep Lore and callbacks in it but if anything is important it will get explained more directly by narration.

Excalibur #1

From there you can read numerically

The first 67 issues are pretty consistently good but you can always stop After the Cross-Time Caper story if you want something more modern

If you want to keep reading after #67 I suggest skipping the issues written by Lobdell and going straight to the Warren Ellis era

Specific issue recs if you don't want to start at the beginning:

#4: The beginning of the Kurt/Meggan/Brian love triangle. Includes the infamous page where Kurt and Meggan nearly kiss. #16: Another infamous issue. The team land in a new universe and get separated. Kurt fights some air ship pirates before getting seduced and fucked just barely off panel by an Evil Queen. He also ends up wearing some really skimpy "battle armor" towards the end. It's truly incredible that this was even allowed to be published. #23: Judge Dredd parody. The team land in a new universe and get separated (again). Kurt has some really great fight scenes against an alternate universe human version of himself and a really heartfelt story with that universes version of Meggan. #44 & 45: The british government asks the team for help investigating a series of strange robberies in London. Everyone but Kurt is out of town on personal business and his leg is broken so he decides the thing to do is recruit the chaotic aliens helping rebuild the light house as a substitute team - his "N-Men"! If you read these issues by themselves just skip over the sections about the other characters.

Uncanny X-Men by Joe Casey (2001) (#395-409) was part of the ongoing Uncanny comic. It primarily follows a team of X-Men tracking down the Church of Humanity cult as they try to eradicate mutants. This run had a lot of different artists on it but they're all good. The aesthetics and vibes of this run are some of my favorites. Casey writes Kurt a bit more grounded and less jokey but without sacrificing any of the witty banter which I like. If you like a less human-looking Nightcrawler with glowing eyes and pointy teeth this series might be for you!

Nightcrawler (2004) is a twelve issue self-contained mini-series. It's the second of three Nightcrawler self titled minis and it's also my favorite! Kurt gets enlisted as basically a supernatural investigator by Storm after a group of children die mysteriously. He has three different love interest in this which the story even calls him out for at one point. The art is more grounded than the usual marvel house style which isn't for everyone but I personally enjoy it. If you like a softer nightcrawler or a Nightcrawler in street clothes this book might be for you!

Uncanny X-Force by Rick Remender (2010) (#20-35) was an ongoing team book. It's maybe my most controversial pick because it's the Nightcrawler from the Age of Apocalypse but I'm gonna count him because he's hot. He jumped universes to join X-Force (the X-Men's covert black ops team) in issue #11 during the period of time when main universe/616 Kurt was dead. The first arc he's in is all AoA stuff so you can skip it and start at #20 (the Otherworld arc) if you want. AoA Kurt is a darker, more violent version of the character who's only interested in revenge. A lot of Nightcrawler fans hated his inclusion on the team but I personally think he's great! It also helps that the art in this is done in this gorgeous almost abstract digital watercolor style. This version of Nightcrawler ends up dying in an event comic when the series ends but don't even worry about it. Also, maybe don't start with this one. If you like the idea of a star trek-style mirror universe Kurt try reading this!

Amazing X-Men (2014) was an ongoing team book. It's the series that brought Kurt back from the dead after his death several years earlier in a crossover event. It's a really good jumping on point for modern Nightcrawler but the plot is kind of bonkers. If you read it try not to think too hard about the implications of that first arc. Most of the weirder stuff in it doesn't really matter outside of this book anyway. The art is really good - Kurt is very pretty in this. In the early issues he also has great romantic tension with Storm and Wolverine if you're in to that! It's very intertwined with the 2014 solo so if you like this definitely read that! If you like a lanky more cartoony Nightcrawler try this series and the 2014 miniseries!

Nightcrawler (2014) is a twelve issue self contained mini series. It takes place after the first arc of Amazing X-Men but can be read independently since narration explains everything that happened. I'll be honest, this series is fun but not very memorable. The art is nice, though. If you like a lanky more cartoony Nightcrawler try this series and Amazing X-Men!

[miguelhugger2099]

What a Man!

Summary: Times where Miguel reminded you that he's kinda the ideal man. Art by AndalusiaLu on twt :) Next>> Miguel x GN!Reader, Fluff, Drabble

You were used to dating shitty men. One way or another they'd disappoint you so you've learned to pick your poison. You'd much rather date a broke man than an abusive one, as sad as that sounds.

So, when you meet Miguel, a six foot nine, muscle built rich man, you half expected for him to fall into one--but not limited to--three categories. Gym rat, machismo, or a entitled narcissist. It wouldn't be your first and it wouldn't be your last either. But, you were pleasantly surprised when he offered to take you out to a nice restaurant as a first date.

You asked for the address of the place he named and were met with pure confusion on Miguel's end. "Why would you need the address?" He asked.

"So I can drive there?" You raised an eyebrow. Miguel's lips tugged downward.

"I was planning on picking you up," He shrugged. "But if it's a matter of safety, then let me at least pay for your ride there and home."

You were gobsmacked. No forcing you in his car? And he offered to pay for the expenses? You pushed down the slight leap in your chest and coughed. "Picking me up is fine."

Miguel had set the time to pick you up at six thirty and when he texted he was outside, you had to embarrassingly ask him for another five minutes to finish the touches on your outfit. He assured you it was fine and to take your time but you still hurried anyway, not wanting to take up too much time when he's the one driving.

You opened the door the exit and you gasped, taking a step back at seeing Miguel right in front. His back was facing you but when he heard you and the door opening, he turned around and gave you a charming smile. In his hands was a small bouquet of flowers, his suit neatly tailored and it looked snug on his toned body. His white collar was popped open just enough to see the gold chain draped on his neck.

"Forgive me. I should've asked what type of flowers you liked beforehand but I hope these roses will do." Miguel handed them to you and you had to remember to pick your jaw up off the ground. Flowers? On the first date? Flowers at all? You accepted the bouquet with a bashful smile, smelling the fresh scent of the roses with a murmur of your favorite flower.

Miguel's smile grew slightly at your pleased reaction. "I'll be sure to remember that, cariño." He held out his hand to you and you took it with him then leading you to his car.

You subconsciously reached for his car door handle but his larger hand reached for it first. Popping it open, he helped you inside the comfy leather seat of his luxurious car with a gentle squeeze of your hand and closing the door. He opened the door for you? Good lord. You fanned your face to ease the heat growing on your cheeks and dumb smile on your lips.

On the road, he engaged in small talk that consisted of asking about your day, listening to your small rants about work with him pitching in when you asked your own questions. The chemistry was there, conversation and bantering flowing seamlessly between the two of you.

Once at the restaurant, not only had he opened the door for you but also pulled out your chair! You two picked up the menu and you struggled to find the cheapest option available, not wanting to hurt his pockets. Seeing your eyebrows knit together, Miguel nudged the menu down with his finger to meet your eyes.

"Pick what you want. I'm paying anyway." He tilts his head slightly.

You chuckle nervously. "I just don't want you to spend too much. It's rude."

Miguel tuts, shaking his head. "Sweetheart, like I said, I'm the one taking you out. Everything is on me," He leans back in his chair, gazing at the steak section. "Besides, I have more than enough. A few extra dollars won't make a difference."

Jesus Christ. These prices couldn't hurt his bank account when yours is crying just looking at it? "Well, maybe this pasta here looks good?" You point to the one you've been subtly eyeing. Miguel gives a hum of approval.

"You have a good eye." He praises with a small wink and making you giggle. The waiter comes by to collect your order, Miguel adding a wine by a name you can't pronounce. He then hands both your menus to the waiter and faces you again.

"Now, what was that about your boss giving you shit at work?" He smirks, remembering and even wanting to hear the rest of your story from the car. You laugh and lean your elbows on the table, starting from the top while Miguel listens with open ears.

After being in an established relationship, you learned Miguel was private about your relationship but not secretive about it. He often invited you as his plus one to his works banquets at Alchemax, his arm around you at all times whether on your shoulder or around your waist.

Miguel would show you off with pride. "And who's this lovely one next to you?" Someone would ask mid-conversation. He'd perk up, standing a bit taller and moving his hand to the middle of your back.

"This is my wonderful partner." He smiled, announcing your name to them and kissing your temple. You felt shy even with the small public display of affection. Too much made you feel icky and too little made you feel sad---Miguel knew just the right amount to get your heart fluttering.

While Miguel had been talking to another group of men, you tugged on his suit to grab his attention. He immediately put the conversation on hold and looked down on you with a hint of of concern. "What's wrong?"

You smiled reassuringly. "Nothing. I'm just gonna grab a drink--kinda thirsty. Want one?" You asked. Miguel relaxed after knowing you were okay and he nodded.

"That'd be great. Gracias, cariño." He lifted your chin to give you a quick peck that you reciprocated and slipped you his card before letting you be to find the bar.

You squeezed through the crowd of rich and smart people alike, making your way to the familiar counter filled with various types of alcohol. You leaned over to catch the bartenders attention and order two drinks, passing Miguel's card to him and sat on the stool while you waited.

You glanced around the banquet, mindlessly taking everything in to the chandeliers and the different types of people you'd never thought you'd be in the same room if it weren't for Miguel. Speaking of which, your eyes landed on him, smiling to yourself as he chatted along with his colleagues. You admired the way he was confident but not egotistical, kind but not a push-over, humble but knows his worth. You really lucked out with this one.

The clinking of two glass cups snapped you out of your lovesick gaze and you smiled at the bartender, giving your thanks. You hopped off the stool and picked them up carefully before looking up and stopping in your tracks. Where you meant to walk towards Miguel, there was an older man introducing what you guessed was his daughter to Miguel. In the pit of your stomach, you pushed down the feeling of jealousy, instead focusing your emotion on how Miguel would react.

You've spent too much time entertaining men and their games, whether it was to purposefully piss you off or discard you for an ounce of someone else's attention. So you watched how Miguel would handle it and you hoped he wouldn't disappoint you.

The woman smiled a little too big for your liking, obviously making herself seem more attractive in his eyes. Which would've been fine--if it wasn't to your man. Your eyes narrowed when she reached for his bicep but then Miguel stopped her. You blinked as you saw him try to shove her off as professionally as possible but you saw him clench his jaw to hide his disgust. He faced the older man without sparing another glance at the appalled woman, gesturing to himself and shaking his head. You assumed he was explaining he was taken and was proven right when he turned in your direction and his eyes met yours. His face morphed into something softer when he looked at you, a smile on his face when he turned back to the man-- "happily in a relationship" his lips said.

The weight in your chest lifted instantly. Miguel wasn't playing a childish game to make you jealous and he was committed to you. To you, he had gotten so much more attractive in your eyes.

You felt a small poke to your shoulder and you turned around, seeing a man with slicked back blonde, almost white, hair. He sized you up and down which made an uncomfortable shiver run down your spine. You took a step back and smiled politely. "Can I help you?"

The man chuckles. "Just wondering what a pretty thing like you is doing all by yourself. Especially with two drinks. Someone ditch you? That's a shame." He sauntered over closer to you but you took another step back up until you hit a wall. Or what you thought was a wall. You smelled the familiar scent of Miguel's signature cologne and looked up.

Miguel was right behind you, his eyes void of the softness just moments ago and narrowed at the man in front of you. His arm had wrapped around your middle and pulled you closer to him possessively, his other hand taking one drink from your hand. "Thank you for getting us a drink, mi vida," He kissed your temple then down to your cheek. "Kron, seems you've just met my partner." His smile was strained as he hissed out 'partner'.

Kron, as you now know, had stopped smiling instantly. He tried hiding the obvious hatred for Miguel but it still seeped out. "Miguel," He greeted. "Seems I have. Didn't mean to intrude. Have a nice night." He excused himself and grumbled while walking away. Miguel watched as he did so, taking a sip of the drink you had gotten him, the cubes tinkling against the glass. He bent down to your ear after swallowing the bitter taste, his breath warm and tickling you with how close he got.

"From now on, you don't leave my side. I can't bear people thinking you're not mine." His deep voice rumbled and his grip never left your waist the whole night. Wherever you went, he went along and wherever he went, his hand was always somewhere on your body. You head spun the rest of the night, flushed next to him while he managed to slip in that you were his in every conversation and even stealing a few kisses here and there. To have a man this proud of you, it made your heart flutter like no other. Private but not secretive.

A/N: something short and sweet in the middle of writer's block :')

[lovrre]

Agreement prt1

Art Donaldson x Fem black reader

Warnings: cursing, infidelity(kinda), slight smut (fingering) sub ish Art. Slight he loves her more trope, needy Art and probably some other stuff

Word count: 2k

Summary: Despite being engaged to one of the top and richest tennis players in the US, you feel unfulfilled. But everything changes when you transfer schools and meet Art Donaldson, who just can’t quit you.

Author note: GUYS GUYS, PLEASE DON’T KILL ME. MY WRITERS BLOCK HAS BEEN SO BAD YOU DONT UNDERSTANDDD, But I’m finishing all my requests and unfinished fics soon so stay tuned. 😚

Sitting on the bed in your brand new silk pajamas, you found yourself distracted, just like you had been the day before and the day before that. You played with The edge of the book you were attempting to read,mindlessly repeated the last sentence over and over in your head trying to retain anything. The loud television and the whirring of the ceiling fan only added to the chaos. Plus the freezing cold air conditioning of the hotel room made it impossible to concentrate.

In a desperate attempt to regain some semblance of focus, you clumsily reached for the remote, hoping to silence at least one of the distractions. your eyes falling on your fiancé who was sleeping peacefully, his dark hair all messy, in his crisp white t-shirt that matched perfectly to the expensive hotel sheets, he looked so sweet,so innocent. You thought if he slept more, maybe everything could work out

Mike slept while snuggled into your side. Like he often did when you two shared a bed, You had attempted to remove him several times but every time he ended right back at your side so you gave up, In any other scenario his action would seem romantic but they only made you feel worse than you were already feeling. In an effort to relieve some guilt you liked to reminded yourself your engagement was never out of love but business. But then again the line did blur in the beginning of your relationship. Before you left for Stanford, you and Mike got caught up in the act of pretending be in love.

After that you could never really tell real from fake with him, he didn’t like you talking to other men. He’d shower you with really expensives grift but then leave town and not answer your calls or text for days. But when no one was watching he’d try to hug and kiss you. The whole thing was confusing, You had known idea how he persived your relationship but you knew You Felt guilty, without all the technicallys, you knew that you still lied,

The people ate up the role you and Mike played. occasionally you’d have to leave campus and go out in public holding hands or sharing kisses in the rain. But it was all for show, at least on your end. Your Dad made sure to reminded you That, it was the love sick tennis player in love with his coaches daughter that sold tickets. kept the stands full of women hoping to catch the world win romances in action. Also Brought in a large number of his clientele. He promised It wouldn’t be forever unless you wanted to be. And Really how could you complain? 20 years old engaged to One of the wealthiest and most talented tennis players in the world and he wasn't bad looking either. Before all this, you weren't too keen on love anyway, so what were you really missing out on?

~~~

Ten months before

Patrick serves but Art's attention is elsewhere. The ball zooms past Art for the second time, prompting Patrick to turn around and finally see who's behind him. His gaze lands on you, playing tennis alone on a smaller court. The sun shining off your smooth, glistening skin, and your pink tennis dress gracefully flowing with each jump and run.

"Oh, I get it," Patrick chuckles, glancing back at Art. "She's hot. You should talk to her, maybe offer her a lesson. She could use it," Patrick suggests, looking back at you as you let another tennis ball from the machine fly past you . "I think I've seen her somewhere before," Patrick mutters, tapping his racket against his leg.

Still in a daze, Art jogged over to your court. "Oh, you're serious," Patrick murmured watching as he went over to you following closely behind him. "Hi," Art greets, slightly out of breath walking up to the net. "Hi?" you respond, slightly confused, giving him a small wave.

"Are you new here?"

"To the school or the court?" You ask

"Both."

"I'm new to both” you say a little breathless wiping sweat from your forehead.

“I just transferred," you explain.

"Where did you go before?"

"A small community college in Virginia."

"What about tennis?"

"You have a lot of questions," you laugh, tapping your tennis racket against your leg.

"Im just curious “Art jokes.

"I'm just doing this because my fiancé is a tennis player. I thought I'd try to learn," you reveal.

“Finance?” Art questions.

“Yep”

“ how old are you like 20?”

“ actually 19, I turn twenty in a couple months”

“And you're getting married?” Art asked clearly dumbfounded

“Yes” you laugh at his forwardness

", is he a pro or college?", Art asked, assuming the answer would be college.

“Pro," you replied, letting your curls fall freely from your hair tie. Art couldn't help but admire how beautiful you were,too young to be tied down

"Anyone we would know?" Art asks following you as you walk over to the bench with your tennis bag. "Hmm, maybe," you hum, sitting down to tie your shoe. "Mike Fitts."

"Your fiancé is Mike Fitts!" Patrick exclaims a little too loudly. "Mhmm," you confirm, starting to tie your other shoe. "If Mike Fitts is your fiancé, why are you here?"

"Are you referring to the court or the school?" you ask, looking up at both Art and Patrick.

"Both," Art and Patrick respond in unison.

You chuckled as you stuffed your tennis racket into your bag. "Well, whether I'm engaged or not, I always planned to graduate college. And Mike is too busy right now to teach me, so I'm trying to teach myself."

The two of them nod in understanding as you stand up. "It was really nice meeting both of you, but I have class," you announce, throwing your tennis bag over your shoulder. "By the way, it would be great if you guys could keep the whole fiancé thing on the down low. I'm trying to keep it as quiet as possible for now."

"Yeah, no problem," one of them replies.

"Of course," the other adds.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it," you say giving them a small smile before turning around to leave the court.

just as you're about to walk away, Art calls out after you, "Wait! You said you're trying to learn, right? we could coach you if you want” Patrick gives him a look and Art ignores it waiting for your response.

You pause, considering the offer.

”the both of you?” you asked gesturing between them. Art gives you a nod. at that moment The risk didn't seem too big so you said

. "Sure," with small shrug

"How about tomorrow at 12:30?" you suggest, checking the pink Bvlgari watch Mike got you.

"Perfect," Art responds with a shit eating smile

“Ok see you guys ” you laugh walking out the court

~~~~~~

“Yeah see” Patrick says reading a newspaper. “Olympic coach, Dylan yLn, Daughter engaged to Olympics gold medalist Mike fitts” Patrick reads next to a photo of you and Mike smiling as you showed off your huge

engagement ring. “She wasn’t bull shitting”

“Let me see” Art says grabbing the newspaper. “She didn't have on her engagement ring when we saw her...” Art trails off

“You can't be serious” Patrick laughs

“What?”

“She’s engaged Art, not to anyone either,” Patrick leaned in on the table so only he could hear. “she’s engaged Mike Fitts!”

“I didn't say anything,” Art defends

“ you don't have to” Patrick says stealing a fry off Arts plate plopping it in him mouth.

”I know you,”

~~~~~

After that day, everything seemed to blend together. Art and Patrick dedicated themselves to training you throughout the weekdays for three entire months until you got tired of it and decided on once a week. You told Mike you found a coach but never told him who. Since they were kinda the only people you knew in the entire school, the three of you grew close fast. You started going out to bars and parties together. you had your most memorable college moments with the two of them. And then, your birthday arrived. Patrick had left for some torment and it was just you and Art.

You two were just having so much fun that night. On thing led to another And before you realized it, the two of you were constantly having “fun together”. It didn't matter where - in the dorm, in the shower, or even on the floor. It was bad, but you two couldn't stop

Trying to clear your mind you Let out a sigh. you carefully remove Mike from your side sitting up to taking a sip of you're water on the nightstand. Trying to ignore the ache of your core. This is how you spent every night away from him, needy, uncomfortable. You heard a knock at the door which almost caused you to spill water on yourself. You Quickly put your drink down and run to answer it before the person could knock again careful to be quiet not to wake up Mike.

You swung the door open to find Art standing there, hair slightly damp, with huge smile on his face. "Are you out of your mind?" you whisper, stepping out of the room and shutting the door quietly behind you. You can't help but notice his thin athletic hoodie and gym shorts. Slightly wet clinging to his skin as if he just stepped out of the shower.

"It's past one ,"Art huffed out , his voice filled with urgency and desire as he leaned in for a kiss. his hand gently cradling the side of your face in the process.

When the realization of what was happening washed over you, you pulled away, but still stayed close enough to feel his breath against your skin. "Art," you breathed out, eyes darting down the hall to check if anyone saw. Your hand instinctively found its place on his strong chest, you savored the feeling and the look of your manicured nails there, not knowing when you be able to do it again.

"I like these," Art hummed, playing with the hem of your pajama shorts. He rolled the fabric between his fingers, his big hand gracing you thighs in the process. The little touch sent shivers down your spine. You somehow composed yourself pushing him away gently with your index finger, creating some distance between you two.

He looked at you with sad eyes like a rejected puppy. "Mike’s sleeping inside," you whisper, worried someone could hear. "What does that mean?"

There was a long pause as you carefully choose your next words. Art stared at you intently, trying to decipher your expression. "You slept with him?” Art asks, as if he already knew the answer.

"No, I didn't sleep with him!” You whisper yelled, “He just showered and fell asleep," you explained,

"What's bothering you then?"

"I feel guilty."

"You didn't feel guilty at Stanford."

"Mike wasn't at Stanford."

“You care about Mike's feelings now ?" Art's asks furrows his brow, his voice filled with a mix of confusion and hurt.

" I don’t know… he’s been nicer lately and were supposed to be married in three days”

“You’re actually thinking about going through with it?” Art asked the hurt now evident in his voice.

“There’s nothing I can do now, I signed contracts, this isn’t just about us anymore I’ve told you this”

“What about the private investors?”

"That's just a 'what if,' a perfect 'what if,' but we don't even know if he's seeing someone."

“ If I win tomorrow?”

“Art If you win are lose tomorrow it doesn’t change anything, my Dad expects me at the alter on Sunday regardless, nothings gonna change that”

“But you don’t love him ”

“ I could” your words come out more a question, maybe a hope. “I loved you?”

“You love me” Art corrects

"There's too much at stake now, Art. This is my father's career. We don't come from money, this is all he has."

“You honestly believe this will ruin his career?”

“It could” you reply with a small shrug your voice cracking slightly.

“It won’t” Art response

“You don’t know that”

“ Don’t do this ” Art whispered closing the small space between you. He sounded so tortured, like he was pleading with you.

you hadn't realize it but tears welled in your eyes Threatening to spill any moment. When You blinked an a tear fell down your cheek. Art tenderly brushed it away with his thumb. The stress of the last two weeks had finally caught up to you. “it wasn’t supposed to be this hard” you murmured, your voice barely audible, tears streaming down your face as Art wiped them away.

“Do you love me?” his questions sounded genuine but you knew, he already knew the answer. ”more than i’d like to” you joke, using the back of your hand to dry your eyes.

“Then let me make you feel better,” Art whispered leaning down so he was directly above your ear.

“You’re right about what you said earlier, Mike wasn’t there at Stanford”. He paused for a second moving a piece of your hair out the way, “I was,” he hummed brushing his face against yours “just me and you” he whispered leaving a trail of kisses on the outside of your earlobe down your neck. Causing Your breath catch in your throat .“We had fun right?” Art question, his voice deep and breathy causing you to instinctively press your legs together as you leaned back against the door. “Art” you mumble trying to shake the sexual haze that was swirling inside you.

“I missed you” he whispered his free hand slinking up the side of you short griping your thigh, hiking your leg up slightly. “So bad…All day”

“we can't” you manage to breathe out unconvisingly.

“I’ll beg,”

“Art” you warned

“I’ll do anything baby” he mumbles leaving slowly kisses on your neck. “Anything you want me to” he says kissing under your chin. “ I need you” he hums kissing down your neck, ”don��t you need me?” Art asked kissing below your ear. You don't respond giving small nodd biting the inside of your lip. “Can I hear it?” Art asked, the way his voice sounded so desperate, Damn near whiney had you looking for friction. ”I need you so fucking bad” you basically moan pushing your body against his.

“I love you so much you don't understand” Art said smiling against you cheek. sliding his free hand down the front of your shorts. He rubs his fingers through your folds collecting your wetness on his fingers. You throw your head back with a quiet moan, quickly biting your lip to silence yourself. “Fuck your so wet” Art groans before pulling his hand from your shorts, sucking his fingers clean like it was second nature. You clenched around nothing at the sight.

“I missed that taste” he groans returning his hand to your heat. “Can I make you cum right here” Art huffed out peeping down the hall.

"Yea,” you breathed out, nodding your head feverishly. He could have asked you to drive to the moon in that moment, and you would have said yes. Art slowly pushed two fingers inside of you creating a medium pace before bringing his thumb to rub your clit, you moan lifting your hips to meet his fingers. “Fuck I could eat you out right here” Art groaned watching you Practically fuck yourself on his fingers. “Promise me you won't ever let him see you like this” Art goans leaving kisses on your collar done. “this is mine”

”You can bearly hear a word he's saying the feeling of his thumb on your clit and finger damn near touching you cervix was too much to bear. “I’m gonna cum” you moaned out grabbing Arts shoulder hard in an effort to ground yourself. “I can feel it,” Art breathed pressing his forehead against yours. He presses down harder on your clit causing you to buck into his fingers, letting out a loud moan You cum. his movement don't falter, he continues to pump them in and out while still rubbing your clit until he feels like you've finally had enough.

he removes his fingers from your pussy returning them to his mouth. “I’ll never get tired of that” Art laughs leaning in for a kiss, you return it, taste yourself on his lips. He gently places you leg back on the floor and you stumbled slightly grading his shoulder for balance. He instantly goes to your waist holding you steady. “You ok?” Art ask slight consern on his face. You don't respond afraid of what your voice would sound like after an orgasm like that.

You nod with a smile and Art led you to the hotel room directly next to yours, pulling out a key card from his pocket with a grin.

“You didn't,” you exclaimed as he opened the door.

“I did,” he replied, motioning for you to enter.

“How did you even know our room number?” you ask, stepping inside.

“I have my ways,” he answered, closing the door behind you.

“How did you afford this?” you asked, looking around.

“Are you going to keep ask questioning or are you going to take of your clothes” Art laughs , watching as you sit on the bed.

“You first,” you countered, settling back .

“Yes ma’am,” Art chuckled, starting to undress.

~~~~

Morning arrives and you found yourself back in your original room. Mike was in the bathroom getting ready while you fix your dress in the mirror of the bedroom. As you adjust the straps, you notice a hickey you hadn't seen before, one you forgot to cover up after coming back last night. You laid your hair over it and walk towards the bathroom to retrieve your makeup bag, slightly tripping as your sore legs gave out on you. "You good?" Mike asked, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, I think I'm just sore from tennis practice," you say, reaching past him to get your makeup bag.

"You know no one expects you to play," Mike laughs while drying his hair with a towel. "I'm not doing it for anyone, I want to learn," your words come out more offended than you intended. "I just mean you could spend your time doing something else."

"Like what?" You respond plainly, walking out of the bathroom back to the mirror. "Like calling your dad and asking him what time he'll be here," Mike says from the now open bathroom. "Is your phone not working?" You asked rhetorically, pulling out your concealer . "I don't want to fight today, okay," Mike Replies sternly, looking at you through the reflection of the mirror. "This is a big match," he mumbles while running his toothbrush under the water.

"I thought you said it was going to be 'nothing,'" you chuckle dryly, applying the concealer as his face was turned. "It is, but from what your Dad's been saying, he's been getting good. So I'd like to be on my A-game and not have you trying to start shit."

"Whatever you want honey" you respond, quietly laughing in disbelief. He had resorted right back to his old ways,How could you ever agree to marry someone like him, someone so vastly different from the man you spent the night with.

~~~~

soon as you and Mike were finished getting ready, your father called you to come downstairs to join him for breakfast. You and Mike both stood in line, slightly overdressed, picking out your favorite breakfast items. Mike only getting French toast, disregarding his strict diet. Suddenly, you heard a familiar laughter and turned around to see Art chatting with your father near the entrance. Your heart sank as your father motioned for you both to come over. After dropping off your plates, you and Mike walked towards them, feeling Mike's hand slip around your waist.

"I'd like you to meet someone," your father announced with a smile, putting his arm around Art's shoulder. "This is Art Donaldson," he introduced, "the man I'm competing against today." Mike stated extending his hand for a handshake, and Art reciprocated. Your stomach churned at the sight. "This is Mike, you know him, he's also my daughter's fiancé." Your father says with a smile.

"Stressful, huh?" Art jokes. "Oh, you have no idea," your Dad replies, laughing. "You're both at the same college, right? Stanford?" your Dad asked, nodding towards you. “maybe you could try your luck at training her because I just can't get through," your dad jokes. Art's eyes rake over you, as if looking at you for the first time. "It be my pleasure" Art smiles, looking directly at you. You to discreetly warn him with your eyes but You notice Mike's grip on your waist tighten, clearly not pleased. "Actually, I've been training y/n already, she's improving every day," Mike says, planting a quick kiss on your head.

"Really?" Art inquires, trying to keep up the act to the best of his abilities. "Monday through Friday," Mike replies with a smug grin. “How do you manage with your Busy schedule?” Art asks tilting his head to the side slightly in the process.

“You find time for the people you love,” Mike says with a fake smile. You had to physically hold back your laugh. But you played it off as wiping your face. He had taken a line straight from media training. Silence filled the air as the two have a silent conversation with their eyes.

“Well I wanted to introduce all of you, as I will officially be coaching Art starting next fall,"

Your Dad says in an attempt to break the tension. But it only makes it worse, Somehow Mike's grip on you tightened even more, now you were concerned he’d leave a bruise . "When did you make this decision?" Mike asked, his face showing no emotion but you could tell he was angry. "two weeks ago, and I've been waiting for the right moment to properly introduce you two. I know the timing is awkward with the match, but it's better to do it now than later."

Mike doesn’t say anything giving an expressionless nod. There was another awkward pause before you decided to speak up. "It was nice meeting you…Art?" you trail off , purposely sounding unsure. He nodded with a knowing smile. "But our food is getting cold," you joked, trying to escape the suffocating tension. "I wouldn't want to keep the couple from their food," Art said, while a smiling again only looking directly at you. You wanted to scream, he was being so obvious and the way Mike was already acting, you knew you wouldn’t hear the end of it. "You two eat, I have to go handle some things, I won’t be long" your father said, gesturing for you and Mike to sit at the table before walking off with Art.

Once the two of you sit back at the table you feel caught. "I don't want you near that guy," Mike says, taking a sip of his coffee. You roll your eyes and stab at your scrambled eggs. “He was basically eye fucking you the whole time, and it doesn’t help that your dress is so tight”

“I think you forget sometimes this isn’t real,” you reply, taking a bite.

"Lower your voice," Mike warns, glancing around to see if anyone heard.

"You didn't care about it being real when you accepted the gifts," he scoffs, "or in Virginia."

"It was once, Mike. And every day, you make me regret it."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. You don't get to control me just because you buy me shit. Anyone can buy me shit."

“I told you i’m not doing this with you today” Mike laughs dryly standing up from the table. "I'll see you later, okay babe?" he says a bit louder, forcing a fake smile as he plants a kiss on your head before walking away. You try your best not to flinch when he touches you. Once he's gone, your phone buzzes, and you glance down to see an unsaved number. It's a text from Art.

“meet me at the restaurant next door in 20, alone.”

Author note : GUYS FEEL FREE TO COMMENT I LOVE READING COMMENTS

[kykyonthemoon]

Dream Of The Grassland

In the grassland full of breezes, you by chance become Sylus's bride-to-be. Yet you no longer remember anything that ever happened between the two of you and find yourself falling for him all over again.

── .✦ Sylus x Female Reader|MC

♡︎. Tags: R16, MDNI, suggestive themes, fake engagement, memory loss, light angst with a happy ending, a little hurt/comfort, fluff, pet name - kitten.

♡︎. Word count: 4k5

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - currently closed.

── .✦ Ky Ky’s notes: This story is based on his Grassland Romance card.

This is also my entry to Love and Deepspace - Wander In Wonder Fan Art Contest. I really appreciate all your support on my X <3

When you opened your eyes, you found yourself standing in the middle of a vast prairie. The green welcomed you, into the wind’s embrace. But the voice that just called your name from behind was not at all pleasant like the nature here.

You turned around. A completely unfamiliar face said to you:

"Let's go. Don't stand there anymore. It's late!”

You did not like her at all. 

Giving her a glance, you turned and spurred your horse forward, where the yurt roofs of the neighboring tribe created a brilliant red line on the horizon.

That was where your group of people were headed. That was where your betrothed was waiting.

Except that it was not truly your betrothed.

Tribes on this grassland often intermarry to strengthen harmony. And as the daughter of the chief of a small tribe, you were expected to marry the most powerful warrior in the neighboring region. The official wedding would be held in Tala, where every tribe on the grassland was gathering to attend the festival. 

The problem was, you were not the chief's daughter at all.

You did not remember who you were anymore. All previous memories were like a white mist engulfing you. You only remembered your name, since before being swallowed by the grassland, you had heard someone calling it so earnestly. You did not know where you came from. Narat, the girl who had just urged you to go faster, found you and brought you back to her tribe. As for you taking the place of the chief's daughter, that was another story.

The chief of the clan only had one daughter, and she already had a lover. Because he loved his daughter so much, he begged you to take her place. You had no history, no memories, no attachments. For you, life would be the same regardless of wherever you went. When you witnessed the young woman cry till she nearly collapsed because she wanted to be with her beloved, somehow you felt her pain as well.

But you did not want to marry someone you had never met. You only agreed with them since you had your own escape plan.

When your group arrived at the Kael tribe, the sky was a vibrant crimson. After a brief greeting ritual, you were escorted to a yurt and instructed to wait there alone. But you had no intention to follow their order. You hastily grabbed your luggage and sneaked away. Everyone was hurrying to another place to greet guests, so no one paid attention to you. You spotted your horse drinking from the trough and was able to take him away without causing any alarm.

But as you were ready to climb into the saddle, you heard multiple sets of distant horse hooves approaching. Afraid of being caught red-handed, you had to leave the horse there and hide behind the piles of straw. The men of the Kael tribe just led their horses into the stable, laughing and praising one of their warriors.

You had faintly heard the name Sylus. You were impressed by this name since you had heard Narat's group mention him, your betrothed. Aside from that, you felt an unusual feeling, as if you had some connection to that name. In any case, you had no plan to run into him, especially in the middle of a runaway.

You crept out from behind the mound of straw to investigate. The group of men began to depart. The last person leaving was the tallest, and he appeared to have heard you foot on a dry branch of wood nearby. He paused, his head turned to your hiding place.

You curled up, as if holding your breath. His slow, powerful footsteps grew closer and closer. That enormous dark shadow fell on you, and you gradually lifted your head.

Eyes as brilliant as two rubies stare at you. A look of astonishment crossed that person's face, but it was swiftly replaced by a joyous smile. 

"Were you here all this time, kitten?" 

He spoke up. You became a little bewildered and immediately stood up. In comparison to him, you suddenly felt quite small. You took a step back, and before you could say anything, he grabbed your wrist hard.

“Since I found you now, let us go home.” 

You attempted to get away from him, shouting: “Let me go! Do I even know you? I am... the bride of Kael's mightiest warrior - Sylus! If you dare to offend me…”

He released his grasp somewhat, but then drew you even closer to him. You lost equilibrium and leaned into his arms. He grinned and replied:

"Oh? Really? How convenient. I am Sylus.”

Having said that, he lifted you onto his shoulder and carried you back to his yurt like a bag of rice.

In the yurt, you confronted Sylus, the Kael warrior and your betrothed. You used your fist to start the conversation, but you immediately understood why that man was honored as Kael's strongest warrior. The only thing you could do was give him a few scratches on his face and body. He refused to fight back, instead constantly evading attacks until taking advantage of your weakness to pin you down on the bed with both hands bound and placed over your head.

"It's only been two weeks since we've last seen each other and you're already so aggressive?" Sylus said. His muscular body covered yours, obscuring the light in the yurt.

"I don't know you!" You yelled furiously. Danger was all you felt from this man, the one who compelled you to stay. “Let me go! I don't want to be here! I don't want to be with you!”

Disappointment was clearly visible on Sylus's face. He looked at you for a long time, as if his expectations were all in vain. When you felt his hand loosen somewhat, you took the opportunity to break away from him. Sylus grasped your waist fiercely and threw you back into the bed. But this time, you were able to seize the dagger he held at his side.

Red.

Drop by drop, each scarlet and burning drop seeped from Sylus's chest, where the tip of the dagger had just penetrated. Blood ran down your quivering palm and dripped across your pale face. Sylus's flaming pupils gazed down upon you. Pain. Disappointment. His lips opened slightly but no words came out. Instead, you stammered and said:

“I… I…”

Sylus removed your shaking hand from the hilt of the dagger. The corner of his mouth twisted slightly. A bitter smile. 

“I didn't expect you to do that, again…”

He gripped the dagger tightly and pulled it out. Blood splashed on your torso and the dagger was thrown to the ground.

Sylus had been looking for you for a long time.

He and you were not originally from this meadow. Both are from somewhere else. Another planet. And he was still seeking for you.

You sat on the bed, mindlessly dressed in spotless fresh apparel. You witnessed Sylus wipe blood from his exposed upper torso beneath the light. Your face turned crimson. You attempted to turn away, but your gaze remained fixed on the wound that was closing on his chest. Like a miracle.

"I won't die that easily." Sylus said. The towel in his hand was drenched with fresh blood. "I won't die without you remembering who I am."

Since encountering that gemstone, or the protocore fragment, you had lost all of your memories and been transported to the grassland. Sylus was also drawn here, with you. The person calling your name was him. The person searching for you everywhere was him. But the person who wounded him was you.

You felt a little guilty. Because Sylus's reaction when he met you again made you believe he had dreadful intentions for you. That made you fear and loathe him so much. Meanwhile, he had no idea that you had forgotten everything. He was quite miserable when he realized that you no longer remembered who he was.

"Sorry…" You murmured.

Sylus inhaled deeply. The wound you caused him was not life-threatening, but it was fairly torturous. He asked: 

"Now that you've heard my part of the story, what do you want to do next?"

You remained silent. There was a tint of confusion on your face. 

“Living a simple, free life in this grassland is not a bad idea.” Sylus said. “If you want, you can go anywhere. You can even leave the Kael tribe. But I'm determined to follow you no matter what. After all, you are my betrothed.”

"You do realize that I'm not your true betrothed, right?” You frowned. “Besides, don't you want to return to your real world?”

“Do you want to?”

A moment of silence passed between the two of you. You did not remember anything in that world to feel a single tint of nostalgia, but would choosing to stay here forever be the right thing?

“You don't have to answer right away.” Sylus saw your struggle. “I have a hunch that the gemstone in Tala is what we need to find. Perhaps if I manage to get it, your memories will return, and we'll be able to go back. Thus, you now have a better option than to traverse the grassland by yourself—which is to help me get the gem.”

You looked up at Sylus for a moment but still did not say a word. Everything he had told you was both strange and familiar at the same time. 

“There are still a few weeks left before the festival takes place. Perfect time for you to consider what you want to do next. Now, sleep."

Sylus said nothing more. He quietly spread a blanket on the ground, next to the bed where you were sitting, then lay down.

In your temporary role as Sylus's betrothed, you reside in the Kael tribe. Before their formal marriage ceremony, two engaged individuals might share a home freely. However, Sylus appeared more aloof following the evening of your initial encounter, during which you stabbed him in the chest. It appeared as though he was allowing you more time to truly recall your previous connection before traveling to the grassland. 

Every day, Sylus would practice fighting with other men in the tribe.  You went to herd sheep and embroider with Tarna, a new acquaintance you made in the tribe. She showed you how to sew a little pouch for the person you loved. In the grassland, every time a woman set her eyes on a man, they would give him a pouch as a token of her love. 

"A lot of girls have wanted to give their pouches to Sylus since he came here!" Tarna said. She had just demonstrated to you a sample of the pouch she intended to present to her lover in another tribe. 

"Is that so?" You made a random comment.

“But they dare not do so, because Sylus already has a betrothed—you! Actually, the strongest warrior in the Kael tribe was someone else. Sylus had taken that position from the moment he arrived. Upon hearing of your marriage, he became enraged and declared that he already had a lover. He intended to call off the wedding. But after you appeared, Sylus didn't mention it anymore."

Tarna's yurt's curtain billowed in the wind. Before your eyes, the black and crimson threads mingled together. You took them off while your heart was so confused still. Who else would be the girl Sylus was always looking for; the girl he claimed to be his lover? Even though he never mentioned it, was it conceivable that before coming here, the memory you had lost was the love story with him?

In the afternoon, you found Sylus at the stables. You said you wanted to ride with him, but the fact was that you wanted to get away from here for a while. While riding on horseback, you seemed to remember something. 

On a deserted highway, Sylus and you, on his motorbike. The wind remained as severe as it was here.

The two of you stopped by the stream to rest for a while. Drops of cold water slid down Sylus's face, neck, and chest. He wiped his face, noticed you were gazing at him, then grinned.

"Your hair is all messed up," he remarked. "Let me fix it."

You were silent and simply sat with your back to Sylus. He meticulously unraveled and brushed your wind-tangled hair. His rough hands were clumsy and at times hurt your scalp. You caught two reflections in the water. His eyes were always compassionate towards you. These past days, he was never far away for you. Even if you were unable to recall what had happened before, in the little time you had been together, you had most likely learnt to trust him, and even developed some complicated feelings for him. 

“Sylus…” You spoke up, then hesitated again. 

“What's wrong, kitten?”

You exhaled. You had intended to ask him some questions earlier but were unsure of where to begin. So you redirected it to something else.

"I wonder, how many girls have their hair braided by you?"

Sylus snorted. His facial expression became more relaxed. He replied:

“Do I look like someone who braids women's hair very well? But I can practice every day, if you allow me.”

Your cheeks heated. You hastily covered it with both hands, although in Sylus's position, he wouldn't have seen your blushing face. You added:

“Tarna said that many girls in the tribe wanted to give you their pouches.”

“They should know that I already have a betrothed. I will only accept her pouch.”

Sylus stared at your reflections in the water. You did the same, and suddenly, your gazes met. You hesitantly looked aside, yet lips unable to conceal a smile. Your hand wandered to find the pouch you had just finished embroidering, which was hanging by your side. You had no intention of giving it to Sylus so soon, though.

In the following days, Sylus frequently departed early and returned after the sun had completely set. He competed and practiced hard for the forthcoming festival. You were also used to living here. If you could not retrieve your memories, staying here as a girl of the grassland would not be a terrible choice. Especially when you had Sylus.

Evenings on the grassland were often the time when tribe members gathered together around a large campfire. You found Sylus sitting alone in a far corner, watching young men and women dancing to the music. You came closer and sat down next to him. 

“How is life in the grassland? Do you like it?” He asked.

You raised your head to look at the stars. “It feels free.” 

Sylus grinned quietly beside you. The two of you did not say anything for a long time. Then, you broke the silence:

“What was my life like before?”

“Let's see… You're a very busy Hunter. You don't have time to sit and look at the stars or hang out with the sheep like in here. You always go headfirst into danger, working until you're weary every day. You always try to do your duties well... But sometimes, you would be like any other normal girl, craving a walk in the park full of red leaves, or delicious roasted chestnuts."

Hearing it, you could immediately see the cozy scenario. You inquired again:

“So what about you, Sylus? Were you... also by my side like this?”

Sylus gazed at you for a minute. The smile on his face was melancholy.

“I was afraid this place would separate you and me. But now, it brings you closer to me than ever. I can see you every day. I can share a yurt with you. There's more. I can call you my betrothed.”

Sylus remarked the words “my betrothed" in the language of the Kael tribe, halting briefly to examine your expression. Your face went crimson in the light of the fire. You turned fast away. 

“If you ask me, at this moment, I will tell you that I don't want to return to that world anymore," said Sylus.

Because in that place, you and Sylus fought against each other. In that place, Sylus and you could not have such simple moments like these.

“But I…” You responded reluctantly. “I want to go back… I want to reclaim my lost memories… It's not fair that you're the only one who remembers everything that happened between us…”

You slowly turned towards Sylus. When you looked into his deep eyes, you knew just what to do.

“I want to remember Sylus and how special he is to me. I want to reciprocate what you have done for me with full memories of us, not with just patched stories.”

You believed that throughout your time in this grassland, a bond that was hard to put into words had formed between Sylus and you. You wanted to get to know him in a formal way; the Sylus in the grassland, the Sylus in N109 Zone, each and every of Sylus's identities.

It seemed that he was also considering the possibilities that could happen between the two of you. 

“Understood.” He replied briefly. “I shall win that gem. For you.”

You grinned and grabbed Sylus's hand to join the couples dancing blissfully together. Under the moon and stars, beside the fire and in the laughter of everyone, Sylus and you were like a genuine couple.

Sylus had become accustomed to sleeping on the floor since you arrived. As it was extremely cold at night, you might sometimes find him curled up in a corner. At this rate, he would undoubtedly become ill before reaching Tala. So you suggested:

“Sylus. Come here.” 

He widened his eyes as he watched you retreat deeper into the corner of the bed, leaving an empty spot for him.

"Unless you prefer to lie on the ground, of course." You shrugged, pretending to act like you did not care too much. 

Sylus's massive body quickly sank into the bed. He twisted his lips and responded, "And there I thought you would never ask."

You cracked a smile and cuddled yourself into the covers. That was your first time lying so close to Sylus. The warmth emanating from him offered you comfort and safety. He carried the aroma of grass, wind, and sunshine. You unintentionally drew closer to him. Your fingertips brushed his chest, where you had once stabbed him. That place was completely healed without a scar.

“I remember you said… ‘one more time’… Have I done the same thing before?” You lifted your eyes to gaze at Sylus. “Have I hurt you before?”

Sylus's half-closed eyes gradually opened wide. He looked at you. His breath warmed your cheeks. 

“You shot me. In the same spot.”

The fingers placed on Sylus's chest curled up. He grabbed them before you could withdraw your hand. He continued:

“If we go back there, there's a good chance you'll do the same thing and point your weapon against me. Do you truly want that to happen?”

"I…"

For a moment, the only sound was the wind flowing around the yurt. Sylus said:

“I really like the people in this grassland. They are always honest with each other. Love. Hatred. It would be great if we could be as straightforward as them.”

You closed your eyes tightly, then slowly opened them. You replied:

“Well then, from now on, let's be honest with each other.” 

“Huh? Do you have something to tell me?”

Sylus's eyes met yours, and that half-smile of his felt so much like a tease. You hesitated for a moment then decided to follow your heart:

“I… like having you by my side. Like these days. Even if we are no longer here and must face each other in the real world, I will still be me. You are still Sylus. The time spent here will not vanish, right? I guess I would still like to be close to you. Like this moment…”

You paused and gazed up at him for a long time. You could not recall the past, and the future was unknown. But you knew in that very moment, what you wanted was Sylus. That was all.

You slowly turned around and leaned against his dominant chest. You could hear your heart, Sylus's heart. They were beating at the same rhythm.

You started kissing him. And Sylus responded by dragging your entire body on top of him. Your kisses landed on his face, neck, and chest, particularly where you once injured him. Sylus's physique was sensitive to your every touch, yet he calmly observed what you desired to do to him, wearing his so distinctive alluring half-smile.

The endless night in the grassland suddenly became cold no longer.

All of the tribes came to Tala for the celebration, which was filled with excitement. After several skirmishes amongst the warriors, Sylus emerged victorious, as predicted. Amid the cheers of congratulations from the tribes, you rushed to his side and were lifted into his arms. 

“Are you running to me so quickly in fear that another girl will give me her pouch?” Sylus taunted you by making your cheeks sparkle in the sunset.

“What are you dreaming about? I'm just glad that… we won the gem!”

Sylus carried you with one arm, the other hand at some point reached into your garment and took out the pouch embroidered with the image of a crow that you had made for him. He held it up high where everyone could see it and said to you:

“So this pouch isn't yours?”

“How did you?… Give it back to me!” You tried to reach for the pouch, only to lose your balance and leaned entirely on Sylus. 

“Why do you want it back? To give it to someone else?”

You blushed. The pouch was originally made for Sylus. Only him. But it was your intention to give it to him later, when you were certain of how you should name the feelings you had for him. Yet he found the pouch so quickly. He held it tightly in his palm and said:

“Whoever takes it, keeps it. It's mine now. Don't even dream of giving it to anyone else."

Sylus carried you in his arm to receive the prize. Your cheeks became scarlet, and you failed to say anything more the entire time. Following that, the largest festival on the grasslands took place. Sylus brought you to a secluded spot, holding the prize in his palm.

The sparkling ruby ​​radiated charm as if calling your name, and you knew it was time for you to return. Yet you were still attached to this place. Somewhere inside you, you were trying to cling to every blade of grass, every wind here. Were you ready to leave this free life, leave Sylus?

Sylus's soft fingers delicately brushed your cheek. He gently caressed your face. 

“Are you ready, kitten?” 

You met his eyes. 

“I still have one more thing to do before we go back…”

“What is it?”

You stood on tiptoe, one hand tugging Sylus's neck down close. You sealed his lips with a kiss. So deep. Time seemed to stop. The stars halted revolving. You just broke away from him to catch your breath before erasing the silver thread that existed between the two of you with another kiss that was a little more eager.

Your other hand rested on the ruby he was holding. Your fingers and Sylus's were interlaced with the gem in the center. You started to resonate with it. The gem heated up and gleamed. Soon, Sylus's warmth slowly left you.

When you opened your eyes, you found yourself standing in Sylus's armory in N109 Zone. 

A tear rolled down your cheek. The memories that the protocore fragment had stolen from you were all restored. You searched around.

“Sylus?”

He was not there. Where had he gone? Did he let go of your hand? Was he still in the grassland, living a free life with no attachment? Without you? That thought clenched your heart. Yet you felt the protocore fragment was very close. You followed its energy source to the exit.

Standing by the entrance was Sylus. The red gem was in his palm. Almost immediately, you ran to his side. Without waiting for any words to be spoken, you flung yourself into Sylus, arms tightly wrapped around his neck and legs around his waist. He was taken aback, but then began spinning around with you in his arms. The cold armory suddenly became so cozy.

You did not dare to believe that that dream of the grassland was a real thing, until you buried your face in Sylus's neck and inhaled the scent of grass, wind and sunshine. He whispered into your ear:

“Good to see you again, kitten.”

“It's good to see you again, Sylus…” You whispered, before squeezing him again. 

After that, Sylus put you down. His palm opened and the ruby was revealed:

“Here you go. Spare me the trouble and don’t casually resonate with it anymore.”

You held it tightly in your hand. The vast grassland and the days with Sylus were just like a dream. Time in this world remained constant. Yet your heart had changed.

You looked up at him and said:

“Sylus… What would happen after we leave the grassland?…”

“Perhaps people of the tribes would spread the story about the Kael warrior and his betrothed. They would say that the couple used the ruby to travel to another place, and lived happily ever after.”

You were amazed that Sylus could come up with such an answer. Nevertheless, it brought you contentment. You prompted another question:

“Say… What if we don't meet up because of my missions, or because we need something from each other? Basically, we can meet up just because…”

“We want to see each other?”

Surprise after surprise, you stared at him for a moment. Then you nodded. Sylus grinned. He took out a pouch with a crow embroidered clumsily on it.

“Since I have your most prized possession, I should return the favor, right?” Sylus replied. “We did agree to be honest with each other back in the grassland. It's my turn now.”

His massive hand reached out in front of you. He said:

“Red autumn leaves and roasted chestnuts. I can already imagine a walk in the park on a beautiful day like this. What do you think, kitten?"

You smiled and sheepishly held his hand. At that moment, a bright crimson glow surrounded your and his wrists. Sylus scowled as he noticed the Evol Linkage between the two of you again at this point.

“Hmmm. Should we postpone our outing?”

You shook your head. Your fingers were intertwined with his even tighter.

“Actually I know a place that offers a buy-one-get-one free deal!”

Sylus smiled. “Let's go then.”

Without waiting for him to ask for more, you drew him forward. You were once worried about your connection with him being exposed, and you never dared to admit how much you desired to be with him. Yet, at that moment, you were ready to tell the world the story of you and Sylus.

[kiame-sama]

How do you think the characters react to mc having their period in the monster au. Cause it would make sense for other monster species to have them as well, but it could end up being a "human" thing to them. Like how would the love interests and the staff react. I imagine Malleus panicking the moment he smells blood on his human.

(More lovely fan-art~ Credit to the wonderful @tinseltina for drawing up Mr. Handsome Leona)

Humans are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) 9.5

Something tells me y'all really want to know the answer to this.

Warnings; not proofread (my stuff rarely is, but this is hot off the press), menstrual cycle and all that comes with it (mood swings, blood, cramps, ect), female pronouned reader, not too big on plot but several moments for the fellas, the stressed Dragon is trying his best, use of Japanese words (Nii-san, nee-san, Oji-san), Dragon, Crow, Harpy, Shinigami, Nemean Lion, Gnoll, Shadow-men, Cervitaur, Genie, Unicorn, Cecaelia, Vampire Bat,

~~~~~~~~

It was officially your eighth day in Twisted Wonderland and it was finally time for Diasomnia to take a step back and allow the other dorms to guard you. According to the raffle, it was to be Ignihyde's turn next. Both Idia and Ortho had shown up to the early morning meeting, Ortho still somewhat asleep as he sat leaning up against Idia's arm.

The other Housewardens were present and they had even remembered to invite Malleus this time as there was no other way the Dragon would give up his Human. Both Shinigami were anxious for different yet similar reasons as they waited for the inevitable arrival of the Dragon. Only problem was that Malleus showed up without the Human.

"What is the meaning of this, Malleus? Where is she?"

Vil was first to voice his concerns, one of the few among the Housewardens who would willingly snap at the dour prince. Malleus simply stared at the Harpy even as he squawked and fluffed his feathers in irritation. Of course, they all wanted to hear whatever explanation the Dragon was going to give for this clear violation of the rules they had set regarding soft (Y/n).

"I don't recall ever agreeing to this nonsense of trading my hoard among others, but if you must know, (Y/n) is currently unwell and I have no intention to leave any member of my hoard while they are in such a state."

"Unwell? How is she unwell? She was fine yesterday, if a bit temperamental."

Crowley was displeased by Malleus' refusal to bring the Human they all felt increasing fondness for, but he was more displeased to hear she was ill in some way. In fact, the news unsettled everyone at the table, Idia and Ortho included. They were all keen to keep (Y/n) in high spirits especially with news that there would be several representatives from various countries making surprise visits to check on her well-being.

"She is bleeding but insists it is normal for Humans. The scent of blood alerted me to her state as she rose before the rest of us and I found her in her bathroom crying. She refuses to leave her bathroom until she is able to aquire 'pads' to catch the blood and commented something about 'tampons'. I know not what these 'pads' and 'tampons' are, but even Lilia insists it is something Humans do on a monthly basis and warned me to not push her on this matter."

"If that Mousey is bleeding," Leona growled, "then she must be injured in some way."

"That was my thinking, but Lilia said I was wrong and that he would explain it later before he insisted I attend this meeting instead."

"What exactly has Lilia told you about (Y/n)'s condition?"

~•§•~

"I hate everything and everyone."

You grumbled as you lay curled up on a towel in your bathtub, holding your bloated stomach as you whined loudly when another cramp gripped you. The dull throbbing ache in your back made you want to throw something if it meant the discomfort would end. Your arm had healed quickly- still somewhat mending, but now useable- only for your period to smack you while you were down.

Of course these useless monsters didn't have pads or tampons or Midol and now you relegated yourself to laying on a towel so you don't bleed all over the shared nest. If you could have things your way, you would have as many sanitary products as you wished and you would be laying on Silver's back as the Reindeer was so comfortingly warm. It only made you angrier to remember that there were no heating-pads in this forsaken land.

"(Y/n)?"

"Let me die."

"Please don't talk that way, (Y/n). None of us want you to die."

"Then why aren't there any heating-pads or pain-meds, Lilia? Sounds like you all want me to suffer and die."

"(Y/n)-"

"Leave me to suffer."

"(Y/n)-"

"Go away, Lilia!"

The Bat sighed and closed the door, letting you wallow and whine in pain. He had been around Humans enough to vaguely remember what was wrong, but it had been a long time since he last had to deal with such a situation. Lilia didn't exactly remember the how and the why of your condition, just that it was normal for Humans. No, if anyone knew what was happening, it was you and you were not keen to share your wisdom.

While you were wallowing in self-pity you felt your stomach begin to growl and you just started crying again. None of these moron monsters knew how to cook and you just wanted a nice breakfast to soothe your upset body even if for only a bit. Somewhere during your tears the door to the bathroom had opened again and a delicious smell met your nose.

Walking into the room was the man wreathed in shadows, he set a cloth bag down next to the tub where you lay and stood for a moment watching you. You somewhat recognized him as one of the staff members Crowley had introduced you to the first day- you think his name was Sam- and even in the daylight he looked like liquid darkness. Apparently he was the only one who had a store on campus and he was the one to go to for any and all needs.

"Breakfast is ready downstairs, little Imp."

With that he left the bathroom and closed the door behind him, leaving you to examine what he brought. Inside the bag was a note and several items you thought you would never see in this forsaken world. What looked to be reusable cloth pads took up a good portion of the bag, clearly the kind that could be buttoned and wrapped around undergarments to act like your world's traditional sticky pads. Further down were what seemed to be several small bottles filled with star-shaped pills in various purples, oranges, pinks, and yellows. What almost made you start crying again was the sweet and heartbreakingly beautiful appearance of chocolate fudge in a medium sized tin.

That first bit of fudge melted on your tongue and brought the sugary sweetness of chocolate to your senses. It was like a slice of heaven had fallen into your mouth and you could hardly believe it.

The pads were similar to the disposable ones you had back in your world but with a button clasp along the wing of the pad so it could be secured. You were quick to change your clothes with the extra Lilia had brought you, securing the pad to your underwear and sighing in relief once it all was in place. Though you would have to wash these pads after you switched them out, it was better than nothing.

The note was simple and short, but you couldn't be happier to read the almost elegant script.

'Hey, little Imp. Thought you would need these, though not so soon. Unlike most in Twisted Wonderland, Shadow-folk and Humans were the few species where the child-bearing members have these bleeding cycles. My friends on the other side figured you would want some chocolate. The bottles have some bloating and pain medicine that should help. Only take one of each color twice a day. Chocolate isn't too common, but I think now is as good a time as any to share.

- Sam'

You could have cried it was so beautiful. To think there was someone here who wasn't completely oblivious to your suffering was soothing in ways you hadn't expected. If anything, Sam was now in the top spot for your favorite of the staff members, the others be damned.

As you finally got the chance to clean yourself up and wear clean clothes, you were now ready to emerge from the bathroom you spent most of the morning in. The warm smell of food brought you down to the kitchen and you saw a beautiful sight. Standing near what looked like an entire breakfast feast was Sam, he seemed to be guarding the food from the group that stood eyeing him suspiciously. Ruggie, your guards- minus Malleus- and Grim all stared at the shadow man who refused to let any near the copious amounts of food.

"Morning, little Imp! Figured you would want some breakfast given the morning you've had. Have as much as you like before I let these beasts eat the rest."

Sitting in large bowls and stacked on plates were an assortment of eggs, some kind of sweet smelling breakfast meat- as sausages weren't prevalent in Twisted Wonderland- pan-seared onions and peppers, even pancakes stacked high. It was a veritable feast for the eyes and stomach, the best part being the fact you didn't even have to make it.

"... You're my favorite, did you know that?"

"You honor me, little Imp. I know my sisters and mother would be sending me shadow curses if I didn't at least lend a hand during your time of struggle. Eat up."

You did exactly that as you gathered up a generous portion for yourself and settled at the small table in the kitchen to dig in. Once Sam saw you were happily eating your fair share, he grabbed his own plate before he moved to let the others descend on the food. Lilia was quick to join you and Sam at the small table, not at all put off by your earlier attitude towards him.

"So, Sam, do you know what's going on with (Y/n)?"

"Of course. We shadow people go through a similar process- I should say the ladies and child-bearers of the Shadow people know- I personally don't, but you can bet your ass my meemaw would whoop me something fierce if she found out I left this Human to endure alone when I could have helped."

"Guess there is no need for Malleus to be so distraught then."

You ignored the conversation and simply ate your meal, thrilled someone else knew how to cook a damn fine breakfast. Sebek, Silver, Ruggie, and Grim were content to eat at the kitchen counters instead of the small table, talking quietly to one another. Well, Ruggie and Grim were shoveling food down their gullets, Sebek and Silver were the ones talking.

It was during this conversation that you heard many footsteps thundering down the halls of your dorm to the kitchen. You gripped the fork in your hand tightly and the moment someone grabbed you was the moment you swung the fork to stab whoever dared to touch you. They were quick to let go and narrowly avoided your utensil as they backed off and you saw it was the Headmage.

"(Y/n), my poor little chick! Where are you bleeding-?"

"None of your business!"

Your voice was an angry grumble as you guarded the plate in front of you, putting an arm around it and glaring at the feathered man. He seemed confused before he looked over at Sam who had continued to eat calmly.

"Ah, I should have known you would already be on top of it, Sam. Shadow folk and Humans were two sides of a very similar coin, after all."

"Headmage, why did you bring all these students into her kitchen?"

You looked around and you saw many familiar faces as well as a few unfamiliar faces. Malleus, Vil, Ortho, Azul, Leona, and Riddle were of the familiar. Of the unfamiliar were two men of vastly different appearances. One had white hair and tanned skin, almost seeming to be shining from the inside with a bright gold. The other looked like an older, non-mechanical Ortho with extreme anxiety at even being perceived.

"Mr. Draconia informed us that (Y/n) was unwell and I couldn't keep them from coming with me to check on her-"

"Well, you all are done checking, now go away. I want to eat my breakfast in peace."

"(Y/n)-"

"No! I have had little to no personal space since the moment I fell into this madhouse of a campus and it shouldn't take me having my period to get some! If you all are really that concerned, I have a whole list of things I could only benefit from and you all are welcome to start gathering."

"... Would that make you happy?"

"It would be a start!"

It seemed all of your uninvited guests were uncomfortable as they looked at one another before the shining golden one nodded excitedly. Out of everyone, he seemed the most oblivious to your annoyance and instead seemed happy to be given something to do.

"Sure! What's on the list? I can get stuff for you! Say the word and Jamil and I are on it!"

"See? This is a model Housewarden right here. Doesn't push his own agenda, doesn't demand more information, just says 'okay' and does what is asked of him."

Vil seemed the most offended by this, but kept his thoughts to himself and instead just glared at the happy shining man. Malleus was also clearly displeased by your less than favorable attitude, moving to stand near Lilia as if that would curb your anger at the situation. Ortho seemed to be of the same mind as the first odd-ball and looked ready to run off for whatever you requested.

"Don't forget your medicine, (Y/n)."

Sam prompted gently, continuing his meal as if nothing were amis. Naturally, you had mostly forgotten the bottles of oddly colored stars in your frustration and only now remembered they were present. His note said one of each color twice a day, so you figured it was a morning and night kind of medication.

The stars were actually somewhat cute and you felt a vague temptation to sit and sort the stars by color, but your ever present cramps demanded you take them instead. They actually tasted sweet and must have had a sugar coating of some kind as they went down easily enough. Perhaps it was psychosomatic, but it felt like they were helping the moment you swallowed the odd shapes and felt far less irate even with the herd of others in your home.

"Nee-san, can I have that list you mentioned? You can send it to me via-text so Nii-san and I can get started on gathering things for you!"

"Nee-san?"

"Oh! Are we not close enough yet for me to call you that? Sorry! I just want to be your friend so much I keep forgetting we just met. Oji-san wants to meet you too since he hasn't been able to meet a living Human for a long time and he misses Humans. Would it be okay if he came over?"

It was then the one that looked like an older version of Ortho spoke, resting his hand on Ortho's shoulder.

"Ortho, stop. I get you wanna be her friend but it is so cringe to just invite people over to someone else's place when they aren't feeling well."

"Oh, I'm sorry! I just want everything to work out and Oji-san Hades has been texting non-stop about meeting (Y/n)..."

"We can talk about that later. Okay?"

You raised a single brow at the two- who you assumed to be brothers- as they had their back and forth banter. Somewhere you figured all the Housewardens in your dorm were there to help, but you were still annoyed they came over uninvited. Maybe they could be of use if you split up that growing list of yours and put the clearly eager men to work.

"If I give you all the list will you go away?"

"No," Malleus said, crossing his arms, "I must protect my hoard and if a member of my hoard is unwell, then I shall stand guard until they are well again."

"Fine. You can stay, but I just want a quiet day today. I don't have classes and I just want to sleep."

"You are always welcome to the nest."

"Wasn't asking permission, but thanks, I guess. I also want Silver to be in the nest because he's warm and it feels nice to have heat on my stomach."

"Silver has clases today, but I am free for the day. I can use my magic to warm your stomach so you can rest easy."

"Fine, but if you burn me I'm kicking you out of my dorm permanently."

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Hate Mail, part two (Human Alastor x reader)

CW: Rough sex, Dub con Rated: Adult Part 2 of 2 (Part 1 here) Summary: Alastor has been on the receiving end of some nasty letters at the station. With the help of some rather unique penmanship and a stroke of luck, the culprit finds herself in his crosshairs. What sort of lesson will Alastor teach his little hate fan and how will that change when he uncovers the reason why she is sending him the letters?

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers!

Alastor reached down, carefully taking your hand in his. Your legs shook as you tried to get your feet under you as he helped you up. The clicking of your simple heels against the wooden floor of his office seemed too loud at the moment. 

He looked at you tenderly. The soft, caring look in his eyes felt so very much like a lie, and yet you wanted to believe it. The sounds of your sniffling and harsh breathing filled your ears, along with the ticktock of the clock on the wall.

You wanted to believe he hadn’t intended to hurt you, that he lost control. 

You wanted to believe it, but he had said he would make you pay for what you had written. He had said you would suffer, and you had. 

“Oh, do stop sniffling.” Alastor cooed. “It’s not ladylike. I’ll make this up to you, come, come.” 

His hand rested on your back, guiding you back toward his desk. The last thing you wanted was to step deeper into the office again. Giving up what little distance you had made toward the door terrified you. There wasn’t much choice but to obey, though. 

Alastor’s hand on your back told you who still had control. 

You had heard tells from other women how situations like this went. Men pulled out a few dollars, and they thought it would erase their transgressions. That was what you expected, as he forced you to step behind his desk once again. 

The only thing you couldn’t understand was why he had yet to put himself away and fasten his pants. 

Alastor stepped close behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he did, pulling your back flush against his chest. His chest expanded as be took a deep breath, nose resting against the crown of your head. Worse, you could feel his cock pressing against your lower back, still exposed and now twitching as it grew harder with each heartbeat that coursed through it. 

“What are you-?” your question caught in your throat as his lips caressed your shoulder, leaving a trail of soft kisses that tempted you to tilt your head to the side. 

“I told you,” Alastor whispered as his other hand planted on the edge of the desk in front of you, “I’m going to make it up to you.” 

“Please, sir.” your voice was high, vocal cords stretched tight as you tried to think of a way out of this. “I don’t need anything. It’s fine. We can- we can pretend this didn’t happen.” 

“You sent those letters because you wanted my attention,” Alastor whispered, fingers working at the buttons of your blouse as you stood, trembling in his arms. “I got angry and took it out on you, but that wasn’t right. I know women don’t have a lot of ways to get a man’s attention.” 

“Please, let me go.” Your heart beat faster as his hand reached into your shirt, slight calluses on his hands scratching at the delicate skin of your abdomen. 

“I will,” Alastor hummed in your ear, hand caressing higher until he was pushing the lacey band of your bra up, freeing your breasts from the tight confines. 

“What are you doing?” You couldn’t help the way your breath caught in your lungs as his fingertips ghosted over the bud of your nipple. 

“Cher,” Alastor spoke as he palmed the swell of your breast, “I find the current fashion trend to bind the breasts down to be so distasteful. There’s something so alluring to the curves of a woman.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, though you did not know what you were apologizing for. You did not dress in the morning with seeing Alastor in mind. That was simply the fashion of the time. 

“This is much better, isn’t it?” Alastor chuckled against your neck, pushing his chest into you as he bent at the waist, forcing you to lean forward. Gravity guided your breast to rest in his hand, filling his palm as you reached out to brace yourself on his desk with one hand. You gripped his wrist with the other, failing to pull his hand from you. 

“Let me go.” You whimpered, “Please, you don’t have to do this.” 

“It’s only fair.” Alastor took his hand from his desk, resting it on your hip. 

Long fingers wrapped around the front of your hip, caressing down your inner thigh as he ran his palm down the front of your hip. Each time his hand pushed its way up your leg, back to your hip, the hem of your skirt rose higher and higher. 

Before you could make sense of what was happening, you felt the rough weave of his slacks against bare skin. While he distracted you with the feeling of his fingers rolling your nipple between them, he had your skirt pushed up around your waist. 

He pushed his leg forward, bullying your thighs apart with his knee as he pushed against your torso. There wasn’t much you could do to resist the push of him, bending you over his desk, leaving your lower half on display. Your knickers were all you had to provide any coverage. 

“Stay just like that,” Alastor ordered as he pulled away, “Be a good girl for me.” 

Your fingers twitched against the papers on his desk. Fear coursed through you as he stepped away, looking at you as you supported yourself on your elbows. The soft fabric of your undergarments was sticky with slick, clinging to your skin.

Glancing over your shoulder, you saw exactly what you feared you would. Alastor was looking at you with a deep hunger. You could feel how your undergarments were stuck to the slick of your core. They were surely near transparent from how it felt. 

Wherever he was directing his attention, it was clear he was enjoying what he was seeing. His cock stood tall and proud out in front of his open fly. His shirt was pulled loose, partially unbuttoned at the bottom and the top. At some point, he had pulled his bowtie from his neck, letting it hang around his shoulders. 

Slowly, he stepped forward, reaching out for you. Strong hands caressed your hip before thumbs hooked under the band. There was a slight resistance as the fabric clung to your slick coated core and then they were falling, leaving a cooling trail down your thigh. 

“You are a pretty little thing,” Alastor murmured to himself. 

A startled yelp fell from your lips as he reached out, running his fingers over your slit, smearing slick around. They moved easily through your folds before his long finger slipped deep inside your core. You fluttered around him, not expecting the intrusion. Pulling back, he added a second before withdrawing both.

“You keep trying to protect your reputation, your decency,” Alastor laughed as he wrapped his hand around his cock, lazily stroked his cock, letting the slick on his fingers smear over his shaft. “But don’t you worry. I won’t tell anyone how badly you want this. I won’t tell them how you tried so hard to get my attention. This’ll stay just between us.” 

You gasped as the soft head of his cock slotted through your folds, caressing over your clit. He thrusted slowly forward a few times, coating himself in your fluids before he adjusted his angle. You had no chance to prepare yourself for the intrusion or beg for mercy. 

He pushed forward, slowly but steadily, sinking deeper into you. Your walls spread, struggling to accommodate the considerable size of him. Burning stretching had you gasping for air. There was no hesitation, no giving you a chance to adjust to his size. 

He pushed and pushed, sinking deeper into you than you thought possible. When pain stabbed at you and you were sure there was no more room, he pushed forward still, forcing your body to make room for him. 

Tears ran down your face as you gripped anything you could find. Hair hung down in your face as your head hung limply from your neck. You could feel the papers crumped under your hand and see how your tears smeared the ink on them.

Sweet relief had you sagging at your shoulders as he pulled back, coated now with slick. The reprieve was short-lived as he snapped his hips forward, setting a harsh pace that quickly had your arms giving out. Pain and pleasure mixed as he hit every part inside you. 

Your begging cries of “Please,” morphed from cries of mercy to please for more. As the pain in your core died out, becoming pure pleasure in the face of your building orgasm, your breasts swayed, nipples grazing crumpled papers.

“Close,” you panted, hardly registering the sting of paper biting into sensitive flesh again and again, tiny cuts gathering along the underside of your breasts. “So close.” Your breath caught as your nipple stung, blood smearing on papers and against your skin. 

Alastor’s hand planted between your shoulder blades, forcing your chest against the desk as he fucked into you. The sound of his groans, the slapping of his balls against your puffy cunt, and your whining moans filled the room. At the moment, you couldn’t care less if someone walking in the hall heard the way he was fucking you. 

Your orgasm hit suddenly, washing over you in a violent wave. Alastor fucked you through it, each thrust a battle as your walls clung to him, trying to suck him deeper and milk him of his seed. He wouldn’t give it to you yet. 

The pace remained bruising. Each thrust was sure to leave a bruise on your ass. Only when your cries lowered into tearful gasps did he slow, pulling from your sopping cunt. His cock was soaked with your slick, glistening in the dim light. 

He grabbed you harshly, pulling you up off his desk. There was no chance that your legs would hold your weight, but they didn’t have a chance to fail you. As soon as you were facing Alastor, he had you pushed back onto the desk, papers sliding under your back. He wrapped your legs around him and thrust in, not caring for being slow or soft. 

The head of his cock pressed up against your stomach, bulging it slightly as he bottomed out. Each sharp thrust left you feeling fuller than ever. You struggled to breathe as his cock punched up into you. 

Hungry eyes watched as your breasts bounced. You were sure that his grip was going to leave ghosts of the encounter on your skin that would linger for days. Becoming aware of the racket you were making, you pressed your forearm against your lips to muffle the sound. 

Alastor grabbed your wrist, pulling your arm away without missing a beat. Any chance of muffling your moans was lost as he pinned your wrists on either side of your head. The change in position seemed to result in an even deeper thrust as he folded over you. Hot breath washed over your breasts as his eyes roamed your skin. 

Zeroing in on the blood bubbling up from the small cuts on your breasts, he leaned down and ran his tongue over each, cleaning away the blood. You moaned, back arching as he took the bleeding nipple between his lips, suckling hard as he encouraged it to bleed more. He moaned deeply at the coppery taste of your blood mixing with the scent of sex and the way your cunt clung to his cock. 

“I can’t,” you moaned, head thrashing back and forth as your core tightened, orgasm dangerously close again. “Please, I can’t.” 

“You will,” Alastor promised, grinding his pubic bone into your clit with each painfully deep thrust, pushing your orgasm closer and closer. “This is what you wanted.” 

“Please,” you cried out as the pleasure grew painfully, “Please, please, please!” 

You came with a scream, voice bouncing off the walls of the small room as your walls clamped down on his cock. Alastor’s pace grew sloppy, though no less harsh, as he chased his own completion. Each breath coming in a deep groan and whispered curse as he fucked you through your orgasm. As your body shuddered around his cock, he his pace stuttered as he painted your walls with his seed. 

He fucked into you, each lazy thrust not offering you any softness as he pulled your hips tightly to him. Eventually he stilled, hot breath washing over your breasts as he looked down at you, eyes dazed as his cock twitched in your sore and overly sensitive hole. 

“I hope the tone of your fan mail changes, going forward,” he said, as he pulled his softening cock from you. “Clean yourself up. I’ve got to get on air in fifteen minutes.” 

“Yes, sir.” It was a struggle to make words form through the fog in your mind. 

“See yourself out.” Alastor said, as he straightened his clothes, making his way toward his office door. Pausing, he looked over his shoulder at where you still laid upon his desk, chest heaving and bare-breasted, cunt leaking his seed onto whatever unlucky paper happened to be under you. “And I expect you to hand deliver any future letters. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Alastor,” he said. “My name is Alastor. Use it.” 

[jjenthusee]

Racing Hearts

f1!driver!Jason x reporter!Reader

A/N: i know i said that i felt like writing a toxic f1!driver!Jason, but my mind always reverts back to fluff and hurt/comfort. i can’t help it. :( So ENJOY <3 comment if your comfortable, let me know your thoughts, and please check out the art that inspired this fic (F1 Driver, F1 Driver Pt.2 and F1 Driver Pt.3) i’m proud of how everything came together \(^~^)/ ALSO I SEE THOSE OF U WHO SPAM LIKE, REBLOG, OR COMMENT ON ALL MY WRITING (I LOVE ALL OF YOU) it makes me geek out fr

The story will continue! Here is pt. 2 HEHEHE

Tags: banter, agonizing fluff, hurt/comfort, strangers to friends to lovers, sudden roy harper appearance???,

Word Count: 3.7k

The lights were bright, rapid flashes brightening every angle of Jason’s face as he stood in front of multiple cameras.

His sweat pricking his forehead and running down the sides of his face, shimmering from the light, making him even more attractive as he finally felt the sun on his skin after a race.

His racing helmet clasped in his hand, towel in the other, dabbing at the sides of his neck. His hair perfectly messy from his win.

Fans screaming his name, reporters trying to get his attention. A man finally stopping him in his tracks, shoving a microphone closer to him, surpassing those who were also trying to talk to the star in question.

“Jason, we have seen your name repeatedly throughout racing legacies, what’s the secret to having such a great career?”

Jason continued to walk again, waving at fans, effortlessly pleasing the crowd one look at a time. The reporters and photographers following him like pigeons flocking to food on the ground. Shouting to repeat his name.

After dabbing his towel to his face, he turned back to look at the interviewer. A sparkle in his eyes.

“You’re lookin’ at him. What else do I need?” Jason smugly smiled, briefly making eye contact with the interviewer as he spoke, the interviewer’s face slightly reddening. Giving his classic swoon worthy smirk, fans erupting behind him trying to get a glimpse.

Just another day as one of the world’s best racer.

——

Jason had arrived late, his ball cap worn nicely on his head, his classic Red Bull uniform snug around his fit physique.

Bright lights burned down on him, giving the cameras the best lighting. Jason’s flaws were being watched like a hawk, ready to be shown, but he confidently walked to the microphones.

He let out his signature smile, a quick wink to the nearest interviewer, tapping the microphone in front of him.

Repeated thump thumps echoed through the speakers as he sat down, his management team not far off the stage as he took one of the two seats. The other driver no where in sight, his bright orange hair nonexistent next to Jason. The iconic duo not yet together.

Multiple hands raised, ready to ask Jason any big questions they had been saving for the past twenty minutes until one of the two men decided to join. The press conference should have started once his companion arrived, but journalists weren’t patient people.

“Mr. Todd! How does it feel to add another win to your belt and beat your own record?” A bright young man asked from the crowd, his glasses bouncing off his nose.

Jason laughed, pride taking up the entire room.

“I didn’t know there was any other option.” Jason leaned into the mic, giving a show of his arms crossed, muscles on the table in front of him.

You could practically hear the fans screaming through the camera as you sat a couple rows from the racer. You were surprised his ego didn’t push you off your seat when he arrived.

“Jason! There is talk that your contract is near its end and you are possibly thinking about changing teams, what are your thoughts?” A blonde woman asked two rows in front of you.

“I always think of my fans first, I want to carefully consider everything when I make that decision. Plus, I can’t deny how good I look in black.” Jason teasingly tilted his head.

A quiet scoff left your mouth.

It was now or never, you didn’t know how loud the room was going to get once the second racer arrived.

You raised your hand, standing up to talk face to face to Formula 1’s hottest driver, Jason Todd.

Well…face to face was pushing it, there were other reporters also trying to get their chance with the ever bright star.

But a press conference was a press conference, if you don’t make yourself known, you don’t get to ask any questions.

Once Jason’s focus landed on your standing form, he nodded at you, giving you permission to speak.

Returning the courtesy, you nodded your head.

“Gotham’s greatest has returned.” You smiled, notebook in hand, voice even.

“Please, no need for an introduction.” Jason chuckled, interrupting your sentence as the rest of the crowd laughed with him.

Charmer. You thought.

Patience has always been your virtue, too many people tested you in your line of work, but you could handle someone as spontaneous as Jason Todd.

“Not only do you have the skill, you have the money, and the team to back you up. You are engineered for success.” You explained.

Jason chuckled, charming smile broadening at the compliments.

“You have such a nice way with words.” He relayed through the microphone, projecting his husky voice throughout the room, gaining another laugh from the crowd.

“But your Chief Technical Officer is leaving this season, digging a huge hole in your team. His legacy changed the engineering of your vehicle because he introduced you to your legendary car. Putting you and your other driver, Roy Harper, in a position of possibly seeing your racing careers coming to an end as your CTO retires.”

“You do have a way with words.” Jason repeated, irritation pricking at his skin, but keeping that picture perfect smile for the camera. You smiled again, a tiny bit wider at his strain.

“In other words, your fans are wondering, if your car can’t be at it’s top shape, there’s only so much skill you can perfect before technology surpasses you and you can only see the rear wing of all your opponents.”

Ouch. Jason thought, smiling through your verbal jabs, but none of the amusement reflected in his eyes as he stared at you.

“What did you say your name was?” Jason sat up straighter, his tone lowering. He was used to mindlessly giving eye contact, giving that mind numbing attention that most people on the internet fawned over.

This time it was different, he focused in on the reporter standing not far from his seat, never lowering their eyes from him.

You smiled, slow and calm, basking in causing the change in the flirtatious F1 driver.

Now you had his attention.

“All legacies come to an end, Mr. Todd.” You continued, never answering his question. “Now that your CTO Elainey Usoro is confirmed to leave, will we be able to witness your legacy end in the upcoming season?”

“Aren’t you jumping the gun? Of course my name will continue to be recognized.” Jason scoffed.

“But will it be recognized as the star that lost its fame?” You nudged again.

Jason’s face went neutral, observing you. You stared back, not wavering in your eye contact, a calm diligence.

A tension blanketed the conference room.

Roy threw his arm around Jason’s shoulders in a friendly manner, leaning against his driving buddy as he also threw a flirtatious smile. His laid back demeanor cut up the tension filling the room, the reporters getting oddly quiet at the sudden back and forth of you and Jason, but saved by the second driver’s arrival.

Roy was as fashionably late as usual, throwing a kiss towards the management team on the side lines. His iconic bright hair covered in a backwards ball cap.

They erupted his name around you, as you stood above the crowd.

Roy waved his hand, playfully mimicking a royal princess addressing his loyal subjects as he kept his arm on Jason.

Despite the noise around you, Jason kept his look at you.

Once Roy was done getting in his crowd pleasing, he spoke.

“Sweetheart, just ‘cause Usoro is leaving doesn’t mean we get cars tossed in from the dump. The position will just be empty until the next season begins. I can promise you we aren’t taking off our uniforms any time soon. I look too good with the words ‘Red Bull’ across my abs.” Roy cheekily grinned, toothpick in between his teeth.

Roy Harper. You thought.

One coquettish athlete was one thing, but two had the potential to test you.

“I hope to see those results, Mr. Harper.” You calmly smiled. You glanced back to Jason. “Thank you for answering my questions, Mr. Todd.”

You sat back in your chair, your badge displaying your name and company around your neck. The symbol recognizable to Jason, but he had reset to his usual coy responses before he did anything about it.

And the press conference continued as usual, the fans loving Jason, interviewers taken with him. They tried to trip him up like you had, but no one had pricked him as much as you did.

——

The chair you sat in was uncomfortable.

Luxurious restaurants had the weirdest looking furniture, twisted in odd shapes to make it more appealing to the rich.

The mood lighting set low to create a kind of intimacy most fancy restaurants aimed for.

Jason sat across from you, waiting on his dinner for the night.

“Thank you for meeting me today, Mr. Todd. The place you chose is…quaint.” You eyed the indoor waterfall and the huge chandelier.

“You should have ordered something, this place is known for its seafood.” Jason smiled, crossing his arms across his chest.

A much too expensive watch on his wrist, in too expensive clothes, in a too expensive restaurant.

Your outfit was formal, you thought it fit the atmosphere of the restaurant and you were only here for business. The contrast of the two of you looked like a boss and his employee from afar. Awkward and not on the same level of pay.

The salary of Formula 1 drivers would make any person look plain next to them.

“I shouldn’t because we’re here to discuss about you.” You plainly said, posture straight.

Jason stared at you, the shadows on his face chiseling out his features more than usual. Casually leaning into his chair.

“So, tell me, Mr. Todd—“ You formally started.

“Call me Jason.” He leaned his arms on the table, more of his face coming into the light, his wrist watch glistening in the warm light.

He probably has his own personal jeweler that shines his watch everyday. You judged internally, your left eyebrow raising. A nonverbal “really?” unconsciously stemming onto your face.

Jason’s smile growing wider at your reaction.

“Well…Jason,” You awkwardly corrected, face going back to neutral. “Our interaction last week has gained…interest. I’ve been told that your management is interested in us discussing another interview, just the two of us?” You picked up your glass of water, gently sipping.

Jason was weirdly silent, watching intently at your moves and words.

“Tell me about yourself.” You continued, gently laying your cup on the glass table. Placing your notebook next to it and a simple pen. The plain stationary complimenting your equally plain outfit.

“Jason Todd, F1 driver, signed onto Red Bull, haven’t changed since.” Jason’s food arrived. “The podium is practically my home, the stuff everyone knows. You could quickly Google all of that.”

You stayed quiet, mindlessly writing his quotes in your notebook. Not much effort put in your handwriting.

“But no one is interested in that.” Jason took a bite, glancing back at you as you stopped writing.

“Why not?”

“Okay, ‘lil reporter, let’s be real for a second. The reason why the internet wanted us to meet again is because of how we interacted.” Jason continued to eat. “You have no interest in me, despite your line of work.”

You put your pen down. Really listening.

“I may not be interested in your career, but I do have a passion in what I do.” You defended yourself, tone firm.

“I’m familiar with your work.” His nonchalance apparent in the way Jason sat. His voice leveled, none of the familiar coquettish attitude in front of you. The real Jason was sitting there.

“You are?” You stammer in confusion. You hadn’t expect his shift in demeanor or that he knew about you.

“Duh, that’s why I tried asking for your name last week, but someone thought it was cute to ignore me.” Jason sipped on his water.

Your mouth formed into a firm line.

You knew that there had to be another person underneath all the on screen charisma, but you didn’t expect to meet him at this dinner that was set up. Hell, you even expected getting cancelled by all his hardcore fans the next morning after the press conference.

“Look, I wasn’t interested because everyone knows you. You rightfully made a name for yourself and I had chosen another athlete to interview that day, but it was scrapped because the ‘great’ Jason Todd, shining beloved driver, had made a comeback after you had flopped for a short while.” You breathed, catching your breath.

Jason stopped eating, watching you look at the notebook on the table, a single sentence written on the blank page.

“Ouch, lil’ reporter.” Jason looked up from his plate, his eyes sparkling at something interesting he’s heard.

“I wanted to interview a woman changing athletics, but I had to drop everything to meet you at a press conference you were twenty minutes late to. So, yeah, I wasn’t overjoyed to meet you that day. I’m sorry if I was rude, you weren’t the one who rejected my story.” You slightly huffed, the most emotion you’ve shown Jason.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Jason enthusiastically put down his fork. “Finally some honesty, I was questioning whether you were a robot.”

“Huh?” You had expected Jason to be mad.

“Bad things happen, but we were told to put this together. So, forget the sports stats, let’s show them something a lil’ different.” Jason smiled, a genuine smile that didn’t look at you any differently after you vented out your frustrations about him.

“Like what? Get to know the real you?” You flatly said. “Sounds kinda cheesy.”

“I love to talk about myself, so why not?��� Jason shrugged his shoulders.

You sighed.

“Okay—okay, let’s start with—“

“No, no, no.” Jason interrupted you. “Not here, hell no.”

“You chose this place, I thought this was what you wanted.” You questioned.

“The company chose this, I don’t like seafood.” Jason replied, blankly staring at you.

“What?!” You nearly yelled, self-consciously looking at the other tables, nodding an apology.

Jason laughed, truly laughed.

“Are you free tomorrow?” He asked, smile reaching his eyes.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You replied, lost in the development.

“Great, we’ll meet for dinner.”

——

You ended up outside of what appeared to be local restaurants, packed inside an outdoor lounge area, surrounded by furnished secan containers locking in the structure.

It was beautiful with the hanging string lights illuminating the seating area.

You looked in awe.

“You’re on time.” Jason’s voice rung on top of your head, behind you.

You turned around, surprised at the sudden silent appearance and the casual clothes he was in, no fancy watch, his clothes looked like normal department store ones, and his hair was messily down.

“Ten minutes late? That’s a new record.” You quipped.

“Ha!” Jason laughed. “I almost didn’t recognize you in casual clothes. You almost looked less robotic.”

Jason leaned down to give you a once over like he was evaluating your outfit.

“Quit it, I’m starving and whatever smell is coming from that side is changing my brain chemistry.”

Jason smiled, following behind as you led yourself by your nose.

“Holy shit.” You took a moment after your first bite.

“Woah, the robot cusses. What a scary lil’ reporter.” Jason teasingly shook his head, taking a bite after his teasing. “Holy fuck.”

“Right?!” You smiled, eyes squinting at your cheeks lifting.

Jason, lost in the food, chewed, taking in all the flavors.

“I could die in this moment and ask the paramedics to pass on my final wish, to thank the owner of the food truck over there.” You sipped your beer.

Jason stopped eating, pausing to look at you.

“What?” You questioned his stare.

“You actually have emotions.” Jason kept his face blank.

“Shut up, I would throw this at you if it didn’t change my taste buds.” You frowned.

Jason laughed. His shoulders shaking from the movement.

You noticed his smile was different. He had actual smile lines on his face, his eyebrows grew softer. It wasn’t the usual look he gave after his races.

“Is this what the incredible Jason Todd does when he isn’t wearing his Red Bull uniform?” You tried to casually prod into his life.

“How smooth,” Jason whistled, catching onto your nosiness. “I came here a lot with my brothers.”

“Wow, Wayne family lore.” You kept your eyes on your food, trying to deter the atmosphere away from the sad tone coming from Jason.

“Not the best history there.” Jason quietly spoke, picking at his food.

“A rich boy with family issues, I would have never guessed.” You smiled at him, playfully punching his shoulder. “I might be a reporter, but I respect boundaries. I don’t like the work of others that invade privacy for selfish reasons, bombard children of celebrities, and other awful reasons. So, trauma dump or not.” You smirked.

“Wow, lil’ reporter is all grown up.” Jason dramatically wiped the corner of his eye, wiping nonexistent tears.

“Never mind, I already know the title of the article.” You flatly said. “Rich, charismatic—“

“Aren’t you a charmer—“

“Pain in the ass, reckless, thorn in my side—“ You continued.

“Okay, alright, that’s enough, I get it.” Jason smiled, despite the harsh words.

You raised your left eyebrow, not fully convinced.

Jason used his thumb to rub your eyebrow back to its normal spot, you closed your eyes, moving your head away from his playful harsh rubs.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get there.” Jason reassured. “You’ll get my all my issues, the one time I was mugged, the reason why I don’t drink, and all my kinks.”

“What?!” You shrieked, Jason laughing at your reaction.

“I’m kidding, I was never mugged.”

You threw your dirty napkin at Jason.

——

After the fulfilling dinner, you got Jason’s number, set another date for a lunch, and you were happy.

It had been a while since you had time to enjoy a meal, no work blurring into your off time.

You could never admit to Jason that these meals felt like dinners with friends, not work at all.

Jason had suggested that you choose a spot. You decided on ice cream, not a lunch spot or a decent meal to talk over, but he didn’t complain.

You sent a location to him for a spot near the harbor.

You met each other, the weather getting colder after the F1 season was over and the new norm of adding a jacket to your daily clothing.

It felt idiotic to get ice cream in cold weather, but it was too late to change now.

Jason came five minutes late this time.

“You’re getting better!” You yelled between your cold hands. “Almost brought a smile to my face!”

You fought a smile as you saw Jason jog to your waiting spot.

“I couldn’t let my lil’ reporter wait too long in this cold weather.” Jason’s breaths fogged around him as he caught his breath. Teasing your cheeks into a slight blush, but maybe that was the cold weather.

You put your hands back into your pockets, trying to keep any warmth in them.

“Let’s go, before the ice cream melts.” You joked, walking away from Jason.

“Why ice cream?” He questioned, catching up to your side.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Don’t you get those cravings for hot chocolate in summer and ice cream in winter?”

“No, only robots think that.” Jason smiled.

You swung to punch his shoulder. Jason didn’t even bother dodging, taking the hit with the biggest grin on his face.

“I’m glad this isn’t a live interview again because if I wasn’t cancelled for giving attitude to you at the press conference, then your fangirls and boys would berate me after this.” You spoke, ears red.

“They wouldn’t do that. They just love trying to get me in as many love scandals as possible.” Jason rubbed the edge of your ear with his fingers, they felt warm to the touch. “Been a running joke for a while. Last week they thought I was dating a valet guy and previously they thought it was a some lady at the auto shop.”

“Does that explain the edits of you with some taco stand guy?” You smirked.

“Aw, you looked me up.” Jason cooed.

“Alright, that’s enough.” You laughed as you walked into the ice cream parlor. The two of you walking in and a pair of teenagers sat alone in the shop.

“One scoop of strawberry please.” You asked the teen worker, you looked at Jason, silently asking for his order.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? Do I get the pleasure of you treating me to ice cream?” He teased.

“Just order.” You told him, feigning frustration.

“Banana split please.” Jason excitedly told the worker.

“Wow, really taking advantage of me.” You pulled out your card.

Jason pulled out a twenty dollar bill from his wallet, placing it in the tip jar.

You smiled to yourself.

As you sat with your sweet treats, Jason was devouring the ice cream.

“Y’know, now I get why you get this craving.” Jason scooped another bite in his mouth.

“No more robot talk from now on.” You eyed him.

“Sorry about that. I just wanted you to act like yourself. You look better like that.” Jason mindlessly played with the left over ice cream at the bottom of his plastic tray, a small smile forming on his face. “People getting angry at me turns me on.” Jason smirked, his coquettish personality coming back, but it didn’t annoy you as much as it did before.

You choked on your ice cream, the realization to his words in your eyes. You looked back at the other teenagers in the shop, they were in their own world, not paying attention to you.

“Relax, they don’t care about us.” Jason laughed.

You glanced back at him, weighing the thoughts on your next words.

“I bet my praise would be more effective.” You scooped your last bit of ice cream, finishing it.

Jason’s laughed boomed in front of you. He was smiling like a little kid, it lightened your heart.

“I never know what comes out of that pretty mouth.” He couldn’t stop laughing.

Your ears reddened at his words.

You nervously played with your spoon.

Words. Yes, they were just words. No need to overreact.

“Wanna walk by the harbor? I think I need to walk off all this sugar.” You asked Jason, getting up to throw away your empty cup.

The air outside was freezing, but your ears burned.

[parkerluvsu]

Sorry if i'm asking for too much but girl we desperately need a full fic of cowboy!Art 🛐. Like Art seeing another cowboy approach you and him feeling so jealous and possessive even you're not his yet and him finally finding the courage to confess his love to you but you reject him or something and he starts working harder to get you to accept him 🧎‍♀️🛐

omg not asking for too much at all!!! tried to make this as long as i could but im just so bad at translating my thoughts to words so.. hope u like it <3 (also no i don't know anything about cowboys or rodeos so please forgive me)

PonyBoy (Art Donaldson)

cowboy! art donaldson x fem! reader

late summer nights in july were always your favorite, the captivating sunsets and low-flying june bugs only adding to your enjoyment. usually, people in your small town could be found smoking or knitting on their creaky front porches on a pretty night like this but tonight was a special occasion, with every person who could manage the walk to the outskirts of town or snag a ride in the bed of a truck packed into the rickety seats of the outdoor arena, waiting for the rodeo show to begin. you near the entrance to the venue, tapping your foot anxiously. the most famous rodeo cowboy in your town, art donaldson, is facing another challenger from the next town over. of course you wanted your cowboy to win, there's always been rivalry between your two towns, and now that there was an outlet to outperform each other, both towns showed out for their cowboys.

art donaldson had been the talk of the town since he hit the scene a couple years ago, renowned for his skills and many trophies in rodeos across the state but especially popular among young women and men who found themselves extremely attracted to his strong frame and pretty blond hair. you never caught onto the craze though, thinking he was too good to be true. you'd been scorned a few times in your life by those pretty cowboy types, so you just leaned back in your seat and watched as fans of art crowded around the entrance where he would soon emerge.

as the lights dim over the arena the crowds roars become louder, the claps and woops of fans young and old echoing through the space. you almost have to cover your ears when the announcer yells at the crowd to settle down and welcome the challenger from the neighboring town. boos and yells now fill the stadium, as arts opponent preens at the attention coming from the crowd, tipping his obscenely huge cowboy hat at you, winking smugly. you roll your eyes, turning your head to the spotlight illuminating the entrance where art would soon emerge. the energy in the arena immediately changed when art entered the ring, and even you couldn't resist standing up and clapping and cheering for him like the rest of the fans in the crowd. you swore you felt his eyes on you when he was waving at the crowd, but you were just imagining it.. right?

the rodeo goes by in a flash, you're not surprised that art comes out on top in the end. he rides his horse in a celebratory circle around the ring, when he gets to your section your stomach drops as he tips his hat at you, a small smirk on his face. you look away, reasoning that he probably does this with every girl he sees, a big celebrity like him is sure to be a playboy.

exiting the arena, you looked for your car in the parking lot, lost in the sea of beat up pickups. not looking where you were going, you suddenly hit a wall of muscle, looking up, immediately annoyed before you notice a familiar smirk. "art.. art donaldson?" you step back, looking around for his roadies and drunk friends that always seem to follow him around. "in the flesh darlin'" he flashes that smirk again and you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. "no offence but shouldnt you be like at an after party or something? you won today, im sure you'd get free drinks at any bar in town" you don't mean to stereotype him but.. he truly seems like the type to have a different girl hanging off his arm every night. he smiles, "parties ain't really my thing, actually i was hoping id find you out here". you look at him with raised eyebrows, wondering if he's got you mixed up with another girl. "see, well i saw you in the crowd, most people at these things just go crazy for me but, honestly you didn't seem too interested at all" he shrugs. you shake your head, hoping he's not out here to lecture you about his sport, "no, no that's not it.. i just don't exactly have interest in watching men preen themselves, i mean your opponent was being a total duche to me". he frowns immediately, "are you serious? jesus.. im sorry darlin' ill keep my eye out for him, wouldn't want you to get scared and never come see me again.." he trails off. you tap your foot on the ground hoping he'll get to the point soon. art catches your drift, "well anyway, i was wondering if you'd let me prove you wrong, im a little more than a famous cowboy yknow". you look around, almost expecting cameras to pop out and announce you were on some sort of prank show. "are you kidding?" he shakes his head. "listen i.. i don't doubt that you're fun or whatever but i don't date celebrities" you say matter-of-factly. he frowns, finally taking off his hat for the first time that night, letting you see his slightly sweaty blond hair, curled in the heat, "you're kidding. i promise, just lemme take you on one date-" you cut him off, pressing a finger to his lips, "i said i don't date celebrities. im flattered really, but i have my morals. goodnight ponyboy" he bristles at the nickname and you giggle, turning quickly and letting out a breath of air you didn't know you were holding. you barely register his call after you, "just gimme a call princess, ill prove you wrong!". you shake your head, finally making it to your car and shutting the door, placing your head on the steering wheel. that couldn't have actually just happened.. the art donaldson hitting on you.. you knew all the girls in your town would kill for a chance to be in your place, and they would never turn him down. driving along the winding roads to your house, you bite your lip, wondering if you made the right choice. shaking your head slightly you push the idea out of your mind, he's probably out finding another girl to flatter and take home. it was settled, you wouldn't think about him anymore. but as your head hit the pillow that night the last thing you thought of was that stupid smirk of his.

the rest of your week goes on like normal, repeating your routine every day, without thought of your weird encounter with art. it's wednesday, meaning the local farmers market is open. you grab your bag and head out into the world, immediately wishing you grabbed a hat to shield you from the sun. making you way down to the center of town, bustling with buyers and sellers of fresh food. you walked around the market, thinking about what you needed, you stopped at a peach stand to look at your list, not noticing who was next to you. "so we meet again sweetheart.." you recognize the drawl of the familiar cowboy next to you, letting out a deep sigh. "are you following me ponyboy?" you question, looking up at his blue eyes, shadowed by his cowboy hat. art shakes his head, chucking at you, and you hate to admit it but it's a very attractive chuckle. "no, 'course not, you turned me down remember? i know when im not wanted.." the way he says that, you almost get offended. "i- you know i didn't mean it like that, i just don't date celebrities, no matter who they are" you say, looking up at the now very confused peach farmer, looking between the both of you. you pay for your peaches and leave, and to your (partial) annoyance you hear arts cowboy boots against the gravel behind you. "can i ask you somethin'?" you nod, and art takes his place at your side. "why don't you date celebrities, just curious of course" you smile, shaking your head, he really won't give up, will he? "well, i guess i just don't think they're real, too good to be true yknow? most of the once ive seen are just total players, i feel like it's in their nature to be greedy and always want more. no offence obviously.." art nods along with what you're saying, truly looking like he's thinking about it. "geez, you're an expert on the topic aren't you? i would hate to find out you think of me that way, cuz i really aint that type of guy" art looks down at you, walking slowly to match your pace. "well.." you look him up and down, "you don't exactly have the presence of someone who likes to keep to themselves" art laughs, now letting silence seep between you as you make your way back to your home. arts quiet presence is surprisingly comforting for a showboat like him, if you closed your eyes you probably wouldn't even notice he was there. reaching the porch of your house you turn to face him, not sure what to say next. art takes off his hat, placing it on his heart, "let me prove you wrong. please, im begging you sweetheart, ill do anything you want me to do to convince you" your eyes widen, shocked at the sudden advance. "you.. aren't gonna let this go are you?" he shakes his head quickly, "not at all, no." you sigh, "you're very sweet art but.. i don't even know you-" he cuts you off. "then get to know me, i won't disappoint you darlin'" you weigh the options in your mind, the cons and the pros of the situation, with art right in front of you, you can't help but take a chance. "alright, alright. one date okay ponyboy? one." his face lights up immediately, placing his hat back on his head. "thank you, thank you seriously, ill prove you wrong about me" you nod at his promise. "i should get inside but.." he nods, looking almost sad at the thought of you leaving. "alright.. ill pick you up tomorrow at seven, does that work for you" he's eager, more eager than you'd expect, and you're flattered. you agree, heading inside and preparing for the next day.

one date turns into two, then three, the next minute you're seeing each other every night. most of the time art comes to your place, he tells you it's because he doesn't really have a permanent residence at the moment, but you know he does it just to get to know you better, peeking through your books and trinkets, looking for something to boost his knowledge about you. he cooks too, something you didn't expect from him at all, to his credit, he's absolutely proving you wrong, but you'd never admit that to him, he's too cocky as it is. he hardly ever talks about rodeo when he's with you, separation of work and pleasure he tells you, but truthfully he just doesn't want you to see him as that celebrity, he just wants to be art with you. and you let him be normal with you, spending lazy days in bed with him, not worrying about anything. you can't imagine your life without him anymore, he's there when you wake up, when you're preparing breakfast and going about your chores for the day, he's there, when you get in bed for the night he's certainly there too. he'd never tell you, but he thanks his lucky stars when you fall asleep in his arms, he shudders thinking about where he'd be if you turned him down. luckily, he'd never have to think about that anymore, now that he was yours, your ponyboy.

[megumimania]

STARSTRUCK — art donaldson

synopsis: as art’s donaldson’s biggest fan you have to make yourself known to him by any means necessary.

warnings/tags: nsfw under the cut (17+), art x superfan!reader, reader is kinda delulu, p in v sex, public sex, unprotected sex, first time writing smut so be nice i beg 😩, please don’t fuck in bathrooms or have unprotected sex,!

art shouldn’t even be here right now.

the pr mess that would ensue if he was caught by an eagle eyed fan or the paparazzi was a nightmare that he didn’t want to deal with. after all what brand would endorse a player that had been seen attending a club?

the neon sign of the club illuminated the street corner, creating a light purple haze that drew him in like a moth to a flame. new rochelle was a fairly uneventful county and since tashi was away every night doing god knows what, art was desperate to kill some time.

he entered the club in a baseball cap, sunglasses and some sweats, trying to mantain a low profile. but it was hard to be discreet when he was casually adorning a rolex on his wrist, which drew some attention from some patrons with how it caught in the light.

bass filled rap music was blasting through the speakers as art moved his way through the throng of the bodies dancing, grinding and making out in the club.

thankfully no one bothered to pay attention to the random white dude in sweats as he took his spot at the club’s vip section, sipping on his drink and mindlessly swaying to the beat of the music.

men and women came over to his section, trying to charm and flirt their way into his pants or to get a drink but he wasn’t interested at all.

he was pulled out of his thoughts by a tap on his shoulder and his immediate reflex was to say no pictures but when he finally made out who it was his face paled, the blood devoid on his face.

how did you know he was here?

art couldn’t believe it.

his number one super-fan aka the head of the so called artnation on twitter and instagram had managed to track him down. honestly he was both super impressed and kind of freaked out but he didn’t let it show. what a way to spend to spend a friday night, he thought to himself.

you were everywhere he went: at the meet and greets, the us open, wimbledon, the australia open, his launch parties. every time you met him, you always had that stupid starstruck look in your eyes when ever he signed another piece of memorabilia for you to add to your collection, made you look even more pathetic.

“how did you find me?” art grumbled, his plans for a quiet booze filled night going down the drain.

what made matters worse was the proximity between you both. you were leaning over him, your boobs practically spilling out of your dress. your voice was a mere whisper, tickling the hairs on his sensitive neck.

god he was a wreck.

“i have my sources.” you replied, not wanting to give

that part was believable. art’s legion of super fans were unreal. whilst some spent their time breaking down the cost of the outfits he wore and some spent their time speculating on his future collaborations, others spent their time tracking his location.

“well…uh it was nice meeting you. again.” art spluttered, looking for the way to end the conversation without sounding like an asshole. “i’ve gotta go to the bathroom.” he stood up taking his leave.

“wait up!” you called out after him. you needed to grab his attention for a longer while, you wanted to have a conversation with art that was memorable, something that you two could joke or talk about when you both “ran” into each other next.

“is it true that you and tashi are getting a divorce?”

“what?” art’s head spun around so fast that he almost gave himself whiplash.

“where the hell do you get off on making up rumours about my wife like that?” his stepped closer to you and you could make out the tick of his jaw underneath the strobe lights. yeah he was pissed.

you sometimes got ahead of yourself and this was one of the times where you low-key felt bad for overstepping boundaries, but in your eyes it was all apart of the fan experience.

what you didn’t expect was to be getting fucked by the art donaldson in a dark club bathroom, his fingers stuffed in your mouth so you wouldn’t make a sound.

who knew that art’s anger towards your lack of respect for his marriage and privacy would have him end up fucking you in the club bathroom?

the music drowned out your moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin as art buried himself inside you, his tip just brushing against your g spot. your dress was bunched up to your hips and your panties were in tatters on the ground.

“hope you’re fucking proud of yourself. all those years of stalking me and my family finally paid off hm?” he groaned against your ear. the way your pussy was milking him dry was enough to send him into a frenzy.

art should’ve felt bad or even guilty for what he was doing, his wedding ring still being on was a glaring reminder of his promised vows of fidelity but what was a relationship without any secrets?

maybe thats why he was here right now, balls deep inside you. he wanted a secret, something to hold over tashi, drive her insane, make her second guess he ever told her, like he did on that one night in atlanta.

you were too fucked out to respond, your mind becoming hazy with each thrust. you held onto the bathroom wall, desperately attempting to anchor yourself into this reality.

“f-fuck don’t stop.” you shuddered as art kept his brutal unforgiving pace, not paying attention to the banging outside the door.

“is that all you gotta say to me?” he grabbed onto your hips, pulling you flush against him so that you now took every inch of his dick. “c’mon i know you got a bigger vocabulary than that.” he teased, rolling his hips into yours watching your jaw go slack as you became drunk on him.

you whined at the sensation, your wet pussy fluttering around him, making his eyes roll back. “please i-im sorry.” you pleaded, your eyes glossy and filled with lust and need but art wasn’t swayed that easily, so he played dumb.

“sorry for what?” he asked, his hands finding your tits, squeezing them as his fingers rolled over your sensitive nipples, eliciting a mewl from you. he wasn’t gonna last any longer if your cunt kept him prisoner like this.

“f-for harassing you and invading your privacy—shit!” you groaned out as art started to fuck into you again, leaning forward to give you a sloppy, wet kiss. “that’s more like it.” art grunted in your ear, feeling his climax soon approaching.

his strokes were more frantic, less controlled as his hips stuttered with each thrust, the coolness of his wedding band against your hips contrasting with the warmth you both felt building up inside of you both. it was literal bliss.

the knot that was finally building up inside of you finally snapped as you came all over his dick with a cry, slumped over his shoulder. his orgasm slowly approached after, as he came all over your dress.

you both stayed like that for a moment as you tried to regain your breath, your hearts beating in tandem with one another.

the passion filled atmosphere dissipated as you were pulled back into reality, the buzz of chatter outside the door, the click-clack sound of heels entering and leaving the bathroom, the smell of weed and cigarette smoke coming from the window.

art looked like he was mentally somewhere else, maybe the weight of his actions finally settled in. tashi didn’t look like a woman who could stay with a cheater. you weren’t going to wait for him, you already got what you wanted and even more, this night would be enough to satiate you for months.

“you run to the blogs or the press about this and i swear on everything holy and good that i will sue your ass for every penny that you have. you got that?” he was back to his professional tone that had you weak in the knees before leaving the scene of passion soon after.

sure you spent your days talking about him in fanspaces online, speculating about his life but you’d never let this night of passion be shared online. it was too intimate, too personal. despite its brief nature of your encounter it was what tied you together.

you were apart of his life now, whether the memories of tonight that he’d have were good or terrible, you completed your goal. you left a lasting impression on him and would occupy a space in his mind no matter how many times he tried to forget.

people always say to never meet your idols but maybe they’ve never had the chance to fuck them yet.

[girlwitheconverse]

AMNESIA

╰┈➤ SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

Genre: romance, fluff, a little angst Story type: two part story, short story

Part 1 | Part 2

Word count: 2k

TW(s) for this part: mentions of torture, super brief mentions of r@pe, a lot of angst

Simon fan art credit: @shkretart

masterlist

taglist and requests masterlist

Taglist: @m3ntally-unstable

if you like MARVEL check out this

One year, thirteen days and eleven hours.

That’s the time passed since you’ve been declared missing in action, the time that Simon had spent without you, the time that made life feel like hell all over again for him. You had been his light in the dark, making his life seem meaningful again. He still remembers when you two met for the first time, when you saved his life on the battlefield, he remembers your first date – you asked him out first – it was a simple date at a pub, he remembers when you were drunk and pulled up his mask to kiss him.

He remembers when, as a gift for your one year anniversary, he showed you his face and you cried while telling him how handsome he was. Two weeks after that you went out on a mission, as usual, but you didn’t come back when the mission was supposed to end, or one day later, or one week later.

They hadn’t found your body so you got declared M.I.A., missing in action, instead of K.I.A., killed in action.

That happened one year, thirteen days and twelve hours ago.

Simon didn’t know what to believe, if you were alive, where were you? Why didn’t you come back? If you were dead, well…Simon didn’t even want to think about that possibility.

Today was supposed to be your second year anniversary, but you aren’t there to celebrate with him, and even though he knew that you wouldn’t magically appear in your room at the base he still placed the gift he got you on your bed: a silver ring.

He had never been too much invested in marriage, not really seeing the point in it…But with you? He definitely wanted to marry you, but didn’t want to go too fast so he decided to wait at least four years of relationship before asking you to let him be your husband.

That was a stupid idea.

You both were soldiers, risking your life everyday, waiting wasn’t something neither of you could afford. But, as they said, you understand the beauty of things only when you don’t have them anymore, right?

It took him one year, thirteen days and thirteen hours to understand that he should’ve married you sooner.

“Lieutenant Riley, the squad is ready.” A soldier says as he walks next to Simon to the exit of the base, they were going on a new mission, but they weren’t searching for you. They stopped after five months and two days – the Task Force stopped, not Simon, who was always using the mission as excuses to search for new intels about you from the enemies.

Simon doesn’t answer the soldier, acting cold like he wasn’t crying in your room a few minutes ago, he simply nods.

Simon is just Ghost now, on the battlefield, shooting the enemies at sight, not even caring if they had any family that was waiting for them, he didn’t pity them because no one pitied you. He finally reaches the interior of the building and finds the boss of the cartel watching him unfazed as he smokes.

“Are you here for me? Or for the bitch in my possession?” he asks as he lets the smoke get out of his mouth.

“Human trafficking too? This isn’t getting better for you.” Ghost snickers as he points his gun at the man.

“Human trafficking? Oh no, my boy – the man laughs – that woman is a rare jewel, I could never share her if not with some of my most trusted men, of course.” Hearing his words makes Ghost sick in the stomach, he feels that something is off and for the first time in his life he hopes that his instincts are wrong. “You, with the skull mask over there, is your name Ghost by any chance?”

Ghost’s eyes widen a little but he quickly regains his composure, “How did you know?”

“‘Cause that was the only name that bitch could say when I got her a year ago, her name is something like…Y/n? Do you know her or is she just a groupie of yours?” The man laughs and Simon’s heart skips a beat.

Y/n is alive?

His Y/n is alive?

“Where is she?!” Simon snaps and holds the gun against the boss’ neck, “Where is Y/n.”

“Oh, so she is someone important…Let me go out of this place untouched and I’ll tell you how to find her.”

“Deal.” Simon says as he lowers his gun.

“Three floors under this, two of my men stand in front of the door of her room, tell them I sent you and they’ll let you in.” The man explains with a smirk as he walks to the door of the room.

“Thank you for the information,” Ghost says before shooting at the man right in the back of his head, “asshole.”

The next thing he knows is that he’s running down the stairs of the building until he reaches the floor where two men stand in front of a metallic door, “Your boss sent me.” He says, the men look at eachother confused before Ghost shots at both of them in the head. He takes a deep breath and kicks the door open, the room is empty and dirty, the only thing he sees is a small figure curled up against a corner as she rocks back and forth, hugging her knees and with her head between them.

“Y/n?” He asks softly as he kneels next to her, the girl looks up at him and he immediately recognizes you. You’ve lost weight, your cheeks are more hollow, your body more fragile, and your eyes more dull but it’s definitely you.

He knows it.

“Don’t hurt me please…” You whisper as you crawl more against the corner, as if you just want to disappear.

“Y/n, sweetheart, I would never hurt you…” Simon whispers back as he holds out his hands to touch you but you flinch and move your arm away.

“I don’t trust you.” You say as you look at him from behind your arm, using it as some sort of shield.

“Sweetheart, don’t you recognize me? It’s me, Simon, Ghost, your Simon…” He whispers trying to not show how much your words hurt him, he more than anyone understands how torture can change someone and he won’t judge you.

“Who are you? Do you work with him too? Are you new?” You ask as you look at him with wide eyes, scared.

“Darling it’s me…Your boyfriend…” He says as he looks at you frantically, have they brainwashed you? Have you…lost your memory?

“I have a boyfriend?” You ask as you slowly let your guard down, why do you already trust this stranger so much?

One year, thirteen days and twenty one hours is the time that took him to find you.

And you have no idea who he is.

“This place is…nice.” You say as you walk around what this man, Simon, says is your room at this military base. You trust him, I mean, he showed you the records of your past missions, he showed some photos of you two together – with dates that go back to two years and more ago – so why shouldn’t you?

And he’s so sweet and gentle with you, he treats you like you’re made of glass.

“The doctor said that your amnesia shouldn’t be permanent…” Simon sighs as he sits on your bed and with a quick motion takes the ring that he had left on your bed before the mission back and hides it in his pocket, without you noticing anything.

“I hope so…” You say as you look at the framed photo on your nightstand: you and Simon hugging in your gear, probably after a mission, “I would love to remember our relationship, it seems so…happy, healthy and full of love…” You smile and take the frame in your hands, then you look at Simon, “You said I’ve been missing for over a year, and you still searched for me?”

Simon chuckles, almost offended at your question, “of course darling, and if I hadn’t found you today I would’ve continued searching for you…Until my death.”

“I was one hell of a lucky woman…I mean…I am one hell of a lucky woman?” You say confused as you place the frame where you found it.

“You don’t remember our relationship so I guess considering us a couple must be…strange, for you…” you hear him whisper under his breath, “so you don’t have to see me as a boyfriend you don’t remember, see me as a…best friend, or just a friend…or a coworker…” he starts to panic, then he takes a deep breath and looks back at your eyes, “just…see me as what makes you comfortable the most…”

You can’t help but smile, he seems like a sweet man, you were lucky to have him as your boyfriend — friend, for now.

“Perhaps there’s something that can help me remember everything? Remember…us?” You ask as you look at him with a hopeful look, he seems so sweet and caring that he just makes you want to remember your relationship. “I don’t know…something we used to do together?”

He thinks for a few seconds, “We did almost everything together…” he chuckles, “But every Saturday evening we would meet up in my room and listen to the radio as we cuddled in the bed. That was definitely a weekly routine.”

Simon looks up at you with eyes full of love because, you may not remember him, but he remembers you perfectly; he remembers your first kiss, he remembers your first date, he remembers the first time you two had together, he remembers every curve of your body.

Just then an idea crosses his mind, now he knows what to do if you don’t get your memories back: you fell in love with him once, he could make you fall in love with him all over again.

“The idea of cuddling may look uncomfortable for you, since you don’t remember anything…so, what do you think about a date? We could ask for a few days of leave and try to give you your memories back…What d’ya think?” He asks with an hopeful smile as he looks at you. “Maybe a picnic or something like that…”

“I’m in.” You say with a smile without thinking twice about it.

And just like that you find yourselves back in London, everyday Simon takes you out for a date, each one always different from the one before. You slowly start gaining back your memory, but they are just pointless memories of the names of your hamsters, or an order Price gave you a long time ago.

But no memories of Simon, zero, absolutely nothing.

But that doesn’t stop him, not even in the slightest, he continues taking you out on dates, talking to you about all the things you did and used to do together; he tells you what happened on the day of your first anniversary and shows you his face again, in the intimacy of your apartment.

You two had planned, one year ago, to move in together in that apartment together once you’d be back from the mission, the same mission where you went M.I.A.

That’s the only thing he doesn’t tell you, because he didn’t know how you could react to that information.

You don’t remember your love for him, but it wasn’t hard for you to fall in love with him all over again in no time, with all the dates he took you in this week.

“Simon, I have to tell you something…” You say while you two are sitting on the couch of your apartment, watching a movie. Simon turns his head towards you with a soft smile, “I don’t know if the memories will ever come back completely, or come back at all…”

“It’s okay, we’ll work on that.” Simon says with a smile as he gently caresses your cheek.

“What I mean is…I don’t remember how our relationship was…I don’t remember loving you, but…Now, I do, love you…” You say as you lean your face in his touch, smiling softly. Simon’s eyes shoot wide as he looks at you.

“Are you sure? I- I don’t want you to feel pressured or…or forced to have feelings for me…” He says nervously as he examines your expression with his eyes, trying to understand if you really mean it or are just saying that to comfort him.

“Hundred percent sure, Si…I love you.” You smile, Simon’s eyes fill with tears as he softly kisses your lips.

He had missed the feeling of your lips on his so much…

“I love you too, I love you so much that you can’t even imagine.” He says as he giggles through the tears and kisses you again. “I don’t care if you get your memories back or not, we’ll build other memories together.”

“Together.”

I love making people cry <3

Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

[doreminimi]

an exposed love story | I.Y.

A/N: It's been a while since l've been in the writing scene but l've been wanting to go back into it for a while but didn't really have anyone in mind to write about. But recently, l've been quite hooked onto the olympics scene and a few of the athletes ended up catching my interest and so this short imagine is based off the person who caught my attention.

The story is a mix between my love for the k-pop (as I have done some writings from the past) and the volleyball scene - particularly the Japanese men's volleyball team

Hope you enjoy my first piece of writing in a while!

Genre: Hidden Love, Highschool Friends to Lovers, Fluff

Characters: Ishikawa Yuki x Reader (Reader has a last name)

POV: Third Person to Your POV

- ft. Dokyeom, Mingyu, Seungkwan from SVT, Sana from Twice, and JPN Men's Volleyball Team

Word Count: 2.3k (A short imagine / one-shot)

———————

In the bustling city of Tokyo, where the neon lights danced and the energy never seemed to wane, Jeon Y/N and Ishikawa Yuki first met. Y/N, a bright and ambitious high school student with dreams of becoming a renowned idol, was instantly captivated by Yuki's quiet determination and athletic prowess. Yuki, a promising young volleyball player with a serious yet kind demeanor, found Y/N's charisma and passion irresistible.

Their connection was immediate and profound. As high school friends, they spent time together whenever they could, sharing dreams and supporting each other through their busy schedules. Y/N's path soon took her to Korea, where she pursued a successful career in the music industry. Yuki joined Japan's national volleyball team and played for various Italian clubs during the offseason, leading to a long-distance relationship that was both challenging and rewarding.

Despite the distance, their bond remained unshakeable. Y/N's songs began to feature subtly in Yuki's team practice vlogs and official matches, leading to murmurs among fans. Although neither Y/N nor Yuki publicly confirmed their relationship, their connection was evident in these small but meaningful gestures.

—

One evening, during a casual brunch get-together with, Seungkwan, Dokyeom, and Mingyu at a cozy café, the topic of your "relationship" with Yuki came up.

"Have you noticed that song from the Japan volleyball team's vlogs?" Seungkwan asked, leaning forward with curiosity. "It sounds a lot like something Y/N/N would sing~" ending his sentence in a teasing manner.

Quickly turning towards Seungkwan surprised like a deer in headlights, you curse in your mind forgetting that he always keeps himself updated in the volleyball scene as an avid-fan of the sport. You should have known sooner or later that one of your friends would found out, so you reply with a nervous chuckle, "Really? I hadn't heard that.”

Mingyu, always ready to stir the pot, added with a grin, "There's been chatter about you and someone in Italy. Care to share?"

Your face turned a light shade of pink as you tried to compose yourself. "There might be some truth to it, but let's just keep it between us for now."

Dokyeom placed a supportive hand on your shoulder. "Whatever's happening, we've got your back. You don't have to go through this alone."

—

After years of navigating the complexities of a long-distance relationship, you and Yuki finally found a moment in your busy schedules for a short getaway. Quickly deciding on Florence, a city that seemed to perfectly embody your dreams of romance and history. As you and Yuki walk through its cobblestone streets, exploring its art-filled museums and enjoying its quaint cafes, you find yourselves enveloped in the very essence of a long-awaited reunion. The city’s timeless charm mirrored the depth of your connection, making the time together both magical and unforgettable.

The days were filled with joy as you two explored the city's narrow streets, visited the Uffizi Gallery, and enjoyed meals at quaint trattorias. Wandering hand-in-hand, savoring the rare opportunity to be together without the constant scrutiny of your public lives.

One sunny afternoon, you find a charming café deeply hidden in the alleyways, you look at Yuki with a bright smile. "How about we sit here? I've heard their espresso and tiramisu is fantastic! Plus, since it is a bit secluded we won't have to worry too much about someone spotting us."

Yuki’s eyes twinkled with affection. "That sounds perfect. I trust your taste completely."

As you settled at your table, enjoying your coffee and each other's company, a sudden burst of camera flashes disrupted your peaceful afternoon. Paparazzi, ever on the lookout for a story, had caught you in your private moment. You exchanged startled glances with Yuki, realizing your carefully planned escape had been compromised.

Looking around frantically, you tried to find a waiter who could help you find a more private spot. Yuki, his face hardened with determination, grasped your hands and said, "Hey, look at me. Don’t panic. It’s okay, what happened has already happened. Let’s try to enjoy the rest of our day. We will deal with the consequences later."

You squeezed his hand, offering a reassuring smile as you settled your anxiety and nerves. "Okay. We’ve faced challenges before, so we can handle this together."

Despite your efforts to stay calm, the media frenzy that followed made your vacation far from relaxing.

—

The morning after the photos were leaked, you and Yuki awoke to a media storm. Dispatch had published an exclusive article titled "An Italian Getaway: The Secret Romance Between Korean Idol and Japanese Volleyball Captain!" The article featured several intimate photos of you and Yuki from your Italian vacation, and it didn’t take long for the story to spread across various media platforms.

Your phone buzzed incessantly with notifications. You felt a mix of anxiety and resolve as you read messages from friends. Seungkwan, Dokyeom, and Mingyu all reached out in your group chat.

Seungkwan's message appeared first: "Y/N, are you really dating my volleyball idol? Is it true about you and Ishikawa? You know we’re here for you, no matter what."

You took a deep breath and typed a response. "Yes, it’s true. Yuki and I have been together for a long time. We kept it private because of our careers, but now that it’s out, we’re ready to face it."

Dokyeom's message followed quickly: "I’m glad you’re open about it. We’re all here for you. How are you holding up?"

You sighed, feeling a mix of relief and worry. "It’s overwhelming, but I’m managing. Thanks for your support."

On Yuki’s side, his teammates in Japan were also reacting. His phone buzzed with messages from their group chat, which was now exploding with notifications.

[Group Chat: Japan Volleyball Team]

Ran: "Congratulations on your relationship, Captain! Can I ask for a favor, can you ask Y/N for an autograph? I need it for my collection!"

Otsuka: "Seriously, congrats, Captain! You’ve always been such a mystery with your personal life. It’s great to see you so happy."

Yamauchi: "Yuki, about time you got into a relationship. We were worried you’d stay single forever!"

Nishida: "Wow, I can’t believe it’s Y/N. That’s huge! I’m sure you both make a great couple."

Yuki read the messages with amusement. He scoffed at the playful jabs but appreciated the genuine congratulations from his teammates. Smiling, he typed a response: "Thank you for the messages, guys. I’ll definitely ask Y/N for an autograph for you, Ran."

He hit send, shaking his head with a chuckle. The reactions from his teammates were a comforting reminder of the support he had, even amidst the chaos of the media frenzy. Their messages provided relief and laughter, helping him navigate the challenging situation with camaraderie and humor.

—

As the Paris 2024 Olympics approached, Yuki dedicated himself fully to his training, and you prepared for your own activities. You had planned to make a meaningful public statement after the Olympics, marking both your relationship and Yuki’s achievements.

When Yuki’s team won the gold medal after weeks of challenges and hardships, the moment was both triumphant and emotionally charged. You felt an overwhelming sense of pride and joy. Your shared victory was a testament to your resilience and love.

Later that night, you and Yuki sat in your hotel room, the weight of the day’s events sinking in. You were preparing a special Instagram post. "Are you ready for this?" you asked Yuki, your voice filled with a mix of excitement and nerves.

Yuki, his gaze soft and full of affection, nodded. "Yes. It’s time for the fans to know the truth. I want to celebrate our journey."

You uploaded a series of images to your Instagram story. The first few photos were nostalgic, showing your high school days, candid vacation moments, and various milestones in your relationship. The final image was the most powerful: you and Yuki in the now-empty Olympic volleyball arena, sharing a sweet kiss on his cheek with your arms propped around his neck, with Yuki holding onto the gold medal in one hand and your waist in the other.

The caption read: "Happy 10 years, my captain ♡ to many more years with you"

The post quickly went viral, with fans from both Korea and Japan, as well as across the globe, flooding your feeds with messages of congratulations and support. A hashtag for your relationship trended on Twitter, symbolizing your love story and the strength of your bond.

You were inundated with heartfelt messages from friends and fans. Sana from Twice reached out with a warm message: "I’m so happy for you both! Your love story is truly inspiring. Congratulations!"

You responded with gratitude: "Thank you, Unnie. Your support means so much to us!"

—

The final show of your Japan tour was set to take place at the iconic Nissan Stadium in Yokohama, a grand venue that held a special place in your heart. The stage was set, the lights were dazzling, and the anticipation in the air was palpable. This concert marked the culmination of a successful tour, and you wanted it to be unforgettable.

As you prepared to go on stage, your heart raced with excitement. You had planned something special—not just for your fans, but for Yuki. The Japanese volleyball team had been given special VIP seats for the concert from your management company, and Yuki was among them. You wanted to honor Yuki and your relationship in front of thousands of devoted fans, and you had a surprise planned.

The concert began with an electrifying opening number, your powerful voice filling the stadium as you sang your heart out. The crowd’s energy was contagious, and you fed off their enthusiasm, performing with an intensity that matched your excitement.

Midway through the concert, during a particularly emotional ballad, you signaled to your camera crew. You had a special request that you hoped would add a personal touch to the evening. The crew quickly understood and prepared for the transition.

As the song reached its crescendo, you gestured towards the camera with a bright smile. "We have a very special guest here tonight, and I’d like to share that with you all," you announced through your mic, your voice full of emotion.

The camera panned away from the stage and began to move towards the special VIP balcony, where Yuki and the volleyball team were seated. The crowd’s murmur grew into excited whispers as the camera drew closer. Your fans recognized Yuki and the volleyball team, and the energy in the stadium surged with excitement.

You took a deep breath, your voice steady but filled with warmth. "I want to take a moment to thank someone very special to me. Yuki, you’ve been my rock and my greatest support throughout this journey. This night is dedicated to you and our love."

As you sang the final notes of the ballad, your eyes locked with Yuki’s. The connection between you was palpable, and the sincerity in your gaze spoke volumes. The audience, moved by the gesture, responded with cheers and applause that echoed throughout the stadium.

The camera then returned to you on stage, capturing your radiant smile and the way you seemed to glow with happiness. You continued to perform with renewed energy, your heart lightened by the visible support from Yuki and the volleyball team.

After the concert, you and your bandmates were backstage, basking in the afterglow of a successful show. The atmosphere was jubilant, filled with laughter and congratulations. Yuki and his teammates made their way backstage to meet you, and the reunion was filled with warmth and affection.

Yuki pulled you into a tight embrace, his eyes shining with pride. "Amore mio, you were amazing tonight. I’m so proud of you."

You looked up at him with a beaming smile. "Thank you, Yuki. Having you here means everything to me. I wanted to share this moment with you."

As you stood together, surrounded by friends and colleagues, Sana and Momo from Twice approached with a smile. "The concert was incredible, Y/N. And you two looked so happy together. I’m really glad to see you both celebrating."

You hugged both of them warmly. "Thank you, Sana. Your support has been so meaningful to us."

As the evening wound down, you and Yuki took a quiet moment together, stepping outside to enjoy the cool night air. You stood on a balcony overlooking the city, the lights of Yokohama twinkling below.

"This tour has been incredible," you said, leaning against the railing. "But tonight was really special."

Yuki nodded, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. "It was perfect. Thank you for making me a part of it."

You rested your head on Yuki’s shoulder, feeling a deep sense of contentment. "Here’s to many more moments like this."

As you stood together, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the promise of a bright future. Your love had endured through the highs and lows, and now, with your relationship celebrated publicly, you looked forward to what lay ahead, knowing that you could face any challenge together.

Your journey, marked by love, dedication, and resilience, continued to inspire many. And as you embraced the future, you and Yuki knew that your love was stronger than ever, ready to shine in the spotlight and beyond.

[hinakazino]

DOLLS OF US || JJK!Men x Reader

Summary: You're a small business owner taking custom crochet-doll requests from people. One of the most popular requests? Couple dolls posing together! But what happens when you get caught having made one of you and your crush?

Some Context: Reader is currently in college and this is basically her well known side hustle to handle debt.

Warnings: None, mainly fluff.

GOJO SATORU

He was honestly snooping around your house, honestly! It wasn't often you both hung out one-on-one nowadays, with the workload in college and career planning, life was stressful. So while you were busy in the bathroom Gojo couldn't help walking about.

It wasn't like he hadn't been in your room before, though, you both mainly stayed in your living room most of the time when he was over. His eyes quickly surveyed the room, it was the same as before. He remembers your cute plushies, your art supplies, your bed, shelf, and overall layout.

Satoru walks in and notices the side of your table, where you often kept crochet pieces that were finished or a work in progress. He snickered at the Shrek piece you were almost done with, he couldn't believe someone actually paid for that. His face quickly turned into curiosity as he spotted a piece on the top of your mini wall shelf.

In your room he always knew you had a shelf pushed against the wall that was situated on part of your table, it was where your finished pieces sat and your unfinished where on the table below. His eyes scanned over the top of your shelf, which held a single piece.

Gojo's eyes widened as he realized it was a piece of you and him. You both had your hands intertwined as if dancing, and he was holding onto the small of your back as you were swaying backwards. Held together with a small wooden stand with a simple support structure.

By the time you'd come out of the bathroom, you'd already seen him missing from the living room, and walking into your bedroom you instantly went quiet. He was playing with your favorite crochet piece, an amused expression on his face.

"Awh~ Do you like me y/n?" Satoru asks, his eyes brimming with excitement as his lips twisted into a smug grin. You blushed in embarrassment, unsure of whether he was just teasing you. "It's-- It's not what you think!! That's not me and it was a commissioned piece, like by--" he cut you off.

Satoru had grabbed you by the wrist and had pulled you towards him, not roughly but enough that you landed on him. He quickly wrapped his arms around you, forcing you to sit hugging him on his lap, in your bed. You felt your heart beat quicken as his breath softly fanned your ear as he spoke, "you don't have to lie to me, I like ya too you know?"

You sigh and smack him lightly, "ow! what was that for??" he asks. You pull away and stare at him, "for not just saying so, this is really embarrassing ya know?" you mock him. Only to be met with his laughter as he pulls you into another embrace, "let's just stay like this.." he says softly.

CHOSO

Oh Choso always loved you, he was just really afraid to say so. He knew if you rejected him, it'd be the end of your guys friendship, if not then it'd be insanely awkward. He wouldn't be able to handle any of it if it did happen.

He was currently at your house as your tutor, you were both friends of course but he had offered to tutor you in a subject you were struggling on. Despite him swearing that you didn't need to pay him (it was enough for him to be in your presence), you insisted.

Of course, he gave you a discount, but he tried his best to be strict with you when it was lesson time. You guys had just finished a lesson and you had to go out to run a quick errand. "Make yourself at home Cho! I'm going to get some snacks from the store to restock my collection!" you said, giggling as you left.

That left him with his own thoughts as he took his time examining your home. He often wondered what it'd be like to date you, and imagined a future with you in it. As his mind was flooded with thoughts of you he'd decided to peak into your room.

Tutoring was mostly in the living room but it wasn't like he hadn't been in your bedroom before, but this time he wasn't dreamily staring at it like usual. He noticed a crochet piece you had on your bed, which was a bit strange as he knew you were very careful with your work.

What struck him more was as he stepped closer he recognized that one of the dolls looked like him and the other you. His mind was instantly filled with whether you had a crush on him too, was this his calling? Could this be solid proof of now being the correct time to confess his feelings?

He didn't know how long he stood fondling the dolls in his hands, it was very cute, just the both of you holding hands. However, it was long enough that he heard the door click signaling your arrival. He quickly rushed out, posture very tense as you approached him.

"Hey I'm back! Uh- you okay? Did you have dia--" "I saw them," Choso stated, much to your confusion and his it seemed as he struggled to formulate words. "I saw the dolls you made, do you.." he went silent as you nervously confessed.

"Yeah I've had a thing for you for a long time now," you say anxiously as you fiddle your fingers, you don't know what to do. "I understand this may complicate everything between us, if you want to leave it is okay--" you blurt with a mix of fear and embarrassment. "I don't," he responds.

You had your head down, but now find the courage to glance up at him. Only seeing him smile down at you, "I've liked you too, just, never got around saying it," he says scratching his head while looking away. The blush on his cheeks was adorable as he led you to the couch, making sure to hold your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

SUKUNA RYOMEN

He is Itadori's older brother, who you know because you're best friends with Itadori. There was a tension between you both at first but it was due to you finding him scary. Not anymore though! You both hang out one-on-one occasionally. It was actually since one time you wanted to watch a really good movie that just came out and no one else was free. Sukuna had heard you begging Itadori to come with you over the phone and decided he'd come instead to prevent your crisis. Sukuna had developed a crush on you then. He loved the way you'd cry for sad movies, your face when you'd eat your favorite sweets, and all the little details about you he's noticed throughout the years.

Today he happened to be picking up some stuff Itadori had forgot at your place. Sukuna sighs, "hey! just came to get some of the brats stuff," he huffed walking into your living room. You smiled at him, "alright! you can get what ya need! you don't have to be so mean to itadori," you say giggling. Sukuna proceeds to go straight to your room as Itadori said that's where his uniform was. He couldn't help thinking what Itadori could've been doing in your room as he quickly snatched his uniform off your chair. Stopping when he spotted two dolls, looking like a crochet couple. It had caught his eye with its pink hair, Sukuna honestly felt horrified about it being itadori but when he grabbed it he was positive it was him. Who else had tattoos like his anyway? He felt relief, soon replaced with a warm bubbly feeling in his heart. It was a sweet piece of him holding your back as you both stood looking out.

He wasn't one to date lightly, but with how long he'd been thinking of you this was literally his time to shine. Perfect how you walked in for the moment too, "Kuna, did you find it?" you asked as you came up to him.

He chose to turn around when he felt you near, one hand wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him as he dangled the dolls in front of you. "Wha--" you let out a cry in surprise that soon turned to a nervous silence, your eyes noticing the dolls and then concentrating on his face. "Say, do you like me y/n?" Sukuna asked, a grin spreading across his face as he glanced down at the way you gulped cautiously. The cat was already out of the bag, "yes..." you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. Your eyes drifted downward as rejection filled your head before staring up back at him as he commanded you to face him.

Sukuna could tell you were on the verge of tears but he didn't want this to be a cruel moment so he softly planted a kiss on your forehead. "Don't cry you idiot, I like you too," he said chuckling as he lightly pinched your cheek.

"Really?" you asked, oh he thought your voice was so cute. "Yeah, I do, and you know I think you should make another set of these dolls," he said as he cupped your face in his hands.

"Why?" you asked, your face being squished by him as he responded, "so I can have my own to keep of course, to remember how cute you are." You felt heat rush to your face from his words, but he only scoffed at how excited you seemed to do it.

© 2023 by Hinakazino, do not translate/edit/claim or use my work in any form.

[bingwriterxo]

the shakespeare exhibit - part 1

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: in which tara finds herself in a weird place in the museum

warnings: none

word count: 1700+

author's note: this was a request (find here)! hope u guys enjoy :D the english major in me really popped the fuck out in this one 🤭

next part

Spending a rainy Sunday in the Museum of Modern Art was far from what Tara wanted to do, but she had been outvoted by the rest of her friends, all of whom thought that it would be fun (well, all but Chad, who wanted to stay in and have a movie marathon).

She found herself wandering aimlessly through the halls, glancing this way and that at different exhibits, though nothing really piqued her interest. Sam and Danny had escaped to the Egyptian gallery, Chad and Ethan were exploring the gift shop, Mindy and Anika had rushed off on their own almost as soon as the group walked through the front doors--if Tara had to put money on it, she would guess that they were making out in the bathroom--and Quinn was flirting with the ticket booth guy.

Tara pulled her phone from her back pocket.

Tara (3:46pm): can we go soon im bored

Sam (3:48pm): Danny and I are only halfway done!

Chad (3:49pm): anyone got some extra cash??? really want this weird t-shirt

Ethan (3:49pm): i got u buddy

Mindy (3:51pm): fh2p9hr2$!8tn

Sam (3:51pm): Mindy, what?

Mindy (3:52pm): sorry butt text

Mindy (3:52pm): me and nika r busy

She huffed when no one in the group chat seemed to be on the same wavelength as her and shoved her phone back in her pocket, continuing her shuffling. She wasn't even sure where in the museum she was, and she didn't really care.

Or, at least, she didn't care until she heard that voice.

"And here we have a painting depicting the celebration that occurs in the beginning of one of Shakespeare's earlier plays, Titus Andronicus."

Tara looked to her right, where the voice was coming from, and was met with a large sign that read Pop-Up Shakespeare Exhibit! She frowned. Shakespeare? she thought. Seriously?

"Now, this celebration is quite important to the rest of the play as..."

The voice was luring her in. Okay, maybe I can dig Shakespeare.

She wandered into the room, eyes flitting around as she searched for the person that the voice belonged to. Instead, she was met with numerous paintings of different scenes from Shakespeares' plays, or people that influenced him or were important during his time period.

And why the fuck is this man so iconic? she thought as she quickly scanned over each painting, finding nothing extraordinarily special about them. This shit is boring.

Still, she ventured farther in, determined to find the reason she had entered the exhibit in the first place. She wasn't, however, paying much attention to her feet or the paces in front of her, and the next thing she knew, she had bumped into someone else.

"Oh, sorry," she said.

"It's okay! That's my bad!" you replied, and Tara's eyes widened as she glanced in your direction. You were the voice that she was trying to find, and now that she had found you...well, she wasn't really sure what to do.

Honestly, she hadn't expected you to be so, in layman's terms, hot, and she could feel herself blushing up to her ears as she stared at you, awestruck and nervous and itching to talk to you all at once.

You offered her a wide grin and gestured toward the painting the two of you had ended up in front of. "Big fan of King Lear?" you asked.

Tara glanced at the painting. Two men stood in a vaguely grassy area, one old and the other younger. The older one had his arms thrown out, and despair was clearly controlling his emotions. The younger one was simply standing back and watching. What the fuck is this shit? she thought before realizing that you were awaiting her response.

"Yeah, definitely!" she lied. "It's probably my favorite Shakespeare play."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "Really? You strike me as more of a..." You trailed off as your eyes flitted down her body, taking her in. Tara gulped. "I would say Twelfth Night kind of girl."

Tara shrugged. "Well, I can be surprising." She pointed lamely at the painting. "Besides, I love history plays."

"Oh!" You raised your eyebrows as your eyes widened, and you chuckled. "King Lear isn't a history; it's a tragedy."

"Right! I--That's what I meant," she rushed out, trying to backtrack. "But, I mean, couldn't all of Shakespeare's plays technically be histories? They're all old."

You giggled, and Tara found that she liked that sound even more than she liked your voice. "That's not really how it works." You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and glanced at the watch on your wrist. "If you want, I could give you a tour through the exhibit and explain some of the plays to you. My next group isn't coming for another hour."

I would rather Ghostface pop out of one of these paintings and attack me than have these boring-ass plays explained to me. She wanted to say that--god, did she want to--but you were looking at her with a soft smile and even softer eyes, your hands buried in your back pockets as you shifted on the balls of your feet, and her reply was tumbling from her lips before she could stop it.

"That would be great!"

* * *

You were only halfway through the exhibit, talking about some lady named Portia who could only marry the man that chose the correct casket--how fucking stupid, Tara thought--when you turned to her, a pitiful smile pulling at your lips.

"You find this boring, don't you?" you asked, though there was no judgment in your voice. If anything, Tara could detect a hint of teasing.

She shook her head. "No, no. Portia and Bassanio and caskets are all very...interesting." When you tilted your head at her, your eyes sparkling with disbelief, she sighed in defeat, allowing her shoulders to slump slightly. "Yeah," she admitted, "it's kind of boring."

You shrugged half-heartedly, a crooked smile on your lips. "That's okay. Shakespeare's definitely not for everyone." You looked back at the painting you stood in front of. "I mean, even I hated half the plays when I first read them."

"Then why are you a tour guide for this exhibit?"

"Money," you confessed. "I'm a broke college student who has tuition to pay for. Plus, I've read all of these plays ten times over, so I know them pretty well."

Tara wrinkled her nose. "Why would you subject yourself to that?" she asked. "I couldn't even imagine reading these plays once, let alone"--she gestured in the air--"as many times as you've read them."

"I'm an English Lit. major, so it's kind of my thing." You sighed in a dreamy sort of way, and Tara couldn't help as her eyes flitted down to your lips, her tongue dragging across her bottom one. She quickly shifted back to your eyes when you looked at her. "But it's not everyone's thing. I get it."

She frowned. "Sorry if I, like, wasted your time."

You waved her off. "Don't worry about it. I like talking about the plays, and if anything I said in the last fifty minutes got through to you, then I did my job."

Tara nodded. "Oh, it definitely did. Yeah, I learned so much about Shakespeare today," she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

You chuckled. "Sure you did."

She took a deep breath in and then rushed out, "If I could prove to you that I learned something, would you let me take you on a date?" She watched as your eyes widened in surprise before being narrowed by the smile that took over your face.

"Okay," you agreed. "I'll ask you a question, and if you can answer it, then I'll give you my number. How's that?"

"Yeah," she said, grinning. "That works."

You glanced around the parts of the exhibit that you had taken Tara through, and she watched as you thought for a moment, your eyebrows furrowing in concentration and your hand scratching at the side of your neck.

"Oh!" you said after a minute. "I've got it." You turned to her, a wicked smile on your face. "In Twelfth Night, what's the name of Viola's brother?"

Oh shit, Tara thought. I should've listened harder when she was talking about that play. But it's not my fault she looked so cute when she was talking about the different theories of human gender.

She blinked at you, trying to come up with the name, or, frankly, any name that you had mentioned during your little tour. You waited patiently, watching her as the gears turned in her head.

Orsino? No, no--that's the Duke. Was it Cesario? Toby? Malvolio? None of those. Oh! It was--

"Sebastian!" she practically yelled.

You giggled at her enthusiasm and pulled the pen from your front pocket. As you clicked it open, you said, "I guess you do listen." You took her arm, pushed up her sleeve so that you had enough skin to write, and jotted down your number on her forearm. She looked at it when you were done, blushing at the sight of a poorly-drawn heart at the end. "Text me, yeah?"

"Totally," she breathed out. "Yeah, I'll do that. For sure."

"Okay." You glanced at your watch. "My next tour's starting in, like, a minute, so I've gotta run." You quickly looked around the exhibit and, upon finding no one near, leaned close and pressed a short kiss to her cheek. "Bye!"

Tara was left in the center of the Shakespeare exhibit, watching as you walked back toward the entrance, with a burning cheek and butterflies stirring in her stomach. She looked at the portrait on her right.

"Shakespeare, you're not good for much, but apparently you're good for getting cute girls' numbers," she muttered.

bonus: "so, what exhibits did you go to, tara?" sam asked as the group sat in a little coffee shop down the street from the MoMA.

"uh, the shakespeare one," tara mumbled.

everyone's eyes widened. "what?" came the resounding reply from all of her friends.

"you hate shakespeare," mindy stated.

"yeah. when they tried to teach us about it in senior year, you literally left the classroom," chad said.

"why the hell would you spend all your time in a shakespeare exhibit?" sam asked, furrowing her eyebrows at tara.

anika reached over and pulled at tara's shirt sleeve, revealing the numbers hidden beneath. "i think that might be why."

tara groaned as everyone started talking over one another, asking questions (sam) and squealing (quinn and mindy) and grumbling (chad and ethan).

"god," mindy started when everyone was finally quiet, "you are so gay, t."