#I’ll likely never write this but it lives rent free in my head

[sandersontheside]

thinking about a 10 Things I Hate About You AU….Roman Prince is the most popular boy at Padua High. His brother Remus? Is something else entirely. The only thing they have in common is one simple rule:

“You can date when he does.” “But he’s a mutant! What if he never dates?”

Virgil is Cameron, awkwardly crushing on an oblivious Roman. Patton is Michael, his loyal friend who helps him concoct the scheme to get Remus to date so Roman can. Janus is Patrick, paid to ask out Remus and falling for him in the process when he finds someone who sees pst his false reputation. Remy is Joey, Roman’s crush who turns out to be self centered and jerky. Logan is Mandela, the nerdy girl Michael ends up with.

[nobody0805]

Character A telling Character B about wanting to own a flower shop one day.

Character A telling Character B about shop names they like.

Character B having to leave for a few years, losing contact with Character A.

Character B coming across a flower shop with a name that sounds familiar.

Character B entering the shop to look around, stopping to look at some flowers they find pretty and/or interesting.

Someone standing next to Character B, telling them the name of the flower and a few characteristics and meanings of it.

The name of the flower being Character Bs name.

Character B looking at the person beside them.

It is Character A.

Cute flower shop reunion.

[bucks-babe]

I’ve been here before lol. I just had to let you know, your virgin Bucky stories live rent free in my head. I hope one day to see him become… not a virgin 👀 if you feel like writing it of course ❤️

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, smut, loss of virginity, slightly sub Bucky, soft!dom reader, riding, multiple orgasms (both), overstimulation, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (Don’t do that), copious amounts of cum, like so much, Bucky has a big dick, cumming untouched, cumming in boxers, ball riding (I know, there’s something wrong with me), crying during sex (Bucky this time, not reader lol), crying after sex, aftercare, Bucky is so sweet, taking care of Bucky, washing Bucky’s hair (This is a warning), my limited ass vocabulary (It’s a warning), actual brain rot, no use of Y/N, check tags at the bottom

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: This has been in the works for so long but I took so damn long to finish it. I would have never guessed that so many of yall would be so invested in this story and Bucky’s journey. This is not the last you will see of these two, don’t worry. I think we should give them each a nickname. Leave a comment on what each of their names should be. Legit just had them call each other baby this entire fic. If I end up giving them nicknames, I’ll go back and put them in for all their stories. Anyway, enjoy!

As you slowly open your eyes, feeling the warmth and comfort of Bucky's embrace, a sense of safety washes over you. His strong arms are wrapped tightly around you. As you turn to face him, you see that Bucky is already awake, his deep blue eyes gazing at you with adoration and love. You can feel the rhythm of his breathing, steady and soothing against your skin. In this moment, nothing else matters except for the love and contentment you feel in each other's arms

"Good morning," he whispers, his voice husky with sleep. The sunlight filters through the window, casting a gentle glow upon his face, accentuating the lines of worry etched there.

With a small smile, you shift closer to him, reveling in the intimacy of the moment. "Good morning," you reply softly, tracing circles on his chest.

Bucky's fingers instinctively tighten around you, as if afraid to let go. "Last night... I didn't mean to let go like that" he admits shyly, his cheeks flushing a rosy hue. "I didn't know I was into that." Bucky felt embarrassed, not being used to letting go and having someone else take care of him. It was such a foreign feeling, yet he loved it, being able to trust someone completely, trusting you more than he does himself. Your heart swells at his vulnerability.

"Oh Bucky, it's okay. I liked it, I liked taking care of you. There's nothing to be ashamed about."

Bucky's eyes soften, relief flooding his features as he takes in your words. "You liked it?" he asks, his voice tinged with both surprise and hope.

A gentle nod escapes you, your fingers continuing their soothing motion on his chest. "Yes, Bucky. I enjoyed every moment of it," you reassure him, your voice filled with sincerity.

He exhales a breath he didn't realize he was holding, a weight lifting off his shoulders. "I've never let myself be vulnerable like that before," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared of losing control."

A tender smile graces your lips as you cup his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. "Bucky, being vulnerable doesn't mean losing control. It means trusting someone enough to let them in, to share yourself completely." Your words carry the weight of understanding and acceptance.

He gazes at you, his blue eyes reflecting a mixture of desire and hesitation. "I don't want to disappoint you, you know? You've been with experienced men before who knew how to pleasure you. I'm not sure if I can do the same for you." The poor thing was terrified of letting you down. He loves you so much, but what if he can’t please you? Would you leave him for someone better? How many people would even want to be with a man who knows almost nothing about pleasing a woman? 

Your hand reaches out to cup Bucky's cheek, your thumb brushing across his rough stubble. His skin is warm and soft under your touch. As you sit up, your hand still resting on Bucky's chest, feeling the faster beat of his heart under your palm. His skin is warm and smooth against your fingertips, a reassuring and comforting touch.

"Last night you gave me the most intense orgasm I've ever experienced with a man. Those other men? They think that one trick that worked on one woman will work on every woman. But you, my love? You listened to me and my body, which is more than most men can say."

Your voice softens as you look into Bucky's eyes, seeing the raw emotion and vulnerability that lies within them. "Bucky, I don't want to give you the impression that you're not enough. You were amazing last night, and I’m glad that you trust me enough to share that part of yourself."

His eyes soften, a look of gratitude and relief washing over him. He leans in to kiss your forehead, his hand brushing against your cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips. "Thank you," he whispers, the words feeling like a heavy weight finally lifting off his shoulders. He takes a deep breath, and you can see a newfound confidence and determination in his eyes. "I want to learn, to be better for you. To make you feel the way you felt last night, every time."

A smile tug at the corner of your lips as you lean in to kiss him gently. "I believe in you, Bucky. And I know that you'll learn and grow, just like you did last night. And I’ll be right there to show you how." With a reassuring nod, Bucky pulls you into a deep and passionate kiss, his hands cradling your face. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine.

Slowly, he pulls away from the kiss, leaving behind a trail of electric energy on your lips. "I want to make love to you today," he whispers. "I want to give you everything I have, and show you just how much I care." Your heart swells with love for the man who would give you anything.

“Are you sure, Bucky? We don’t have to do anything that you don’t feel comfortable doing. I’m perfectly fine waiting for you, however long it takes.” You cup his face, staring into his eyes, seeing determination yet anxiety in his eyes. He wants to do this, have you be his first and only, he’s sure of it.

“Yes. I want more, I want everything with you. Last night, making you feel good, it sparked something in me. I want to do it again. Fuck, you looked so sexy when you came.” Just at the thought of the taste of your pussy and the image of you writhing on the bed in pleasure makes his cock throb, filling with blood. The feel of your naked breasts pressed against him is doing nothing to stop it either.

“If you’re sure, baby, we will. You want to follow my lead or experiment by yourself?” The thought of you trusting him enough to let him do whatever he wants to your body makes him whine, bucking his hip into your bare core, the boxers doing little to hinder the feeling on his sensitive dick.

“Want to follow you, please.” As you take the covers of the pair of you, Bucky’s eyes go right to your tits, hands moving on their own accord to cup them. You’re proud that he was comfortable enough to touch you without hesitancy. 

You roll onto your back, Bucky following without a second thought, hands still on you, Bucky sits on his knees, admiring the view of your spread pussy. “I want you to finger me. You remember how, baby?” Of course Bucky remembers how, he remembers how much it made you moan and wiggle on the bed, how you were clenching on them when you came, how fucking tight you got. Bucky nods, right hand moving to your pussy. He needs to use his right hand, needs to feel how wet and tight you are. 

Thumb moving to your slit, he gathers the wetness that has been pooling there since you felt his hard cock through his boxers and drags it up to your clit, rubbing it just the way you taught him, the small gasp that leaves your lips lets him know he’s doing it right. His eyes can’t leave your pussy, memorized by the wetness leaving it. He trails his middle and ring finger down and slowly enters you, cock somehow getting even harder at your feel.

His metal hand comes down to rub your clit as his fingers speed up, wanting you to cum so fucking bad. “Just like that, baby. You’re doing so fucking well. Making me feel so good.” Bucky can feel his heavy balls pulling up, cum about to burst from his cock, hips thrusting in the air, meeting nothing. Heat creeps up his cheeks, he knows he’s going to cum before you without even touching anything. He wants so fucking bad to jerk his cock, coaxing his huge load out, but he can’t leave your pussy.

You clench tights around him, your orgasm building up as well. Bucky can’t handle it, the way your head hits the pillows, eyes closed in pleasure, moans getting higher in pitch. Within seconds, Bucky’s cock bursts, cum pouring from his tip, immediately soaking the front of his boxers, leaking down until it lands on the bed, his moans louder than yours. At the sound of his pleasure you cum, clit twitching under his fingers, waves upon waves passing through you. 

As you come down from your orgasm, you realize that Bucky is still cumming. “Baby, why won’t it stoppp, fuckk, please, feels so fucking good, shitt, please.”At his words the last of him cum dribbles out. The sight of his flushed cheeks and the soaking wet boxers almost makes you cum again. Sitting up, you push Bucky off the bed until he stands, taking off his underwear and pulling him back onto the bed, laying him down.

“You still want to do anything else, baby?” You desperately want to have his cock inside of you, have him cumming that much in your pussy, letting it leak out all over his balls down to the bed, but if he doesn’t want to go any further you’ll stop, no questions asked.

“Oh fuck yes! Want you to ride me please.” The whole of his sentence comes out as a moan, cock still sensitive and hard, ready for you to take it however you please. Straddling him, you grab him lining him up with your pussy. You look at him and at his nod, you start to sit on him. As soon as the tip breaches you, he cums, and he cums hard. “OH SHIT! FUCK, YES! FUCK I’M CUMMING!” He’s practically screaming, but he can’t find it in himself to care, the most intense orgasm of his life coursing through him. 

Hands flying to your hips, he pulls you all the way down, bucking into you with so much force you have to grab the headboard. “ OH FUCKING SHIT!  DON’T FUCKING STOP! DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” It’s not like you could even if you tried, only option to take his assault, and fuck if it doesn’t feel amazing. Your moans almost match his in volume, pussy still trying to adjust to the size of him, balls slapping against your ass. After a few seconds, you already feel his cum being forced out of you to make room for his cock. His cum now all over both of your sexes, his balls, your ass, and the bed.

His orgasm lasts minutes, the amount of cum leaving his cock never slowing down, hips never stop slamming into yours. During his orgasm, you cum too, the sight was so hot you couldn’t help yourself. When your pussy was clenching around him so tight he somehow got louder. Eventually, he orgasm abated and his hips stopped, laying limb on the bed. 

Shame washed over him, at how much he lost himself to his orgasm, how rough he was with you. “I’m so sorry, baby. Please tell me you’re okay. Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.” 

“Fuck, Bucky, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” Bucky’s eyes widen, not expecting you to be so turned on by his orgasm. His cock was still rock hard inside of you, giving you an idea. “What position do you want to do next?” Bucky almost cums again at those words, he knows what he wants, but is almost embarrassed to ask. However, his cock is thinking for him, washing away his inhibitions.

“Can you ride me?” You just smile and start to pick up your hips but he stops you. “From the back.” You throb at that. He wants to watch your ass bounce on him. 

You pull off, hissing at the empty feeling and turn around. You grab his cum soaked balls and you feel them twitch in your palm. Pulling them up you turn your head to Bucky. “Do me a favor and close your legs for me.” He doesn’t ask a single question and does so immediately. You let his balls fall on top of his legs and put his cock right back in, not waiting a second to start bouncing, grinding your clit on his slick balls at the end of every bounce.

“Oh, fuck. How does your ass move like that, shit. Looks so sexy.” His hands ghost over your cheeks, not knowing what to do with the sight in front of him.

“Smack my ass, baby.” He groans, and lays a light slap to your right cheek. “Harder, Bucky. Leave your mark on me.” His Oh shit is ignored as he slaps you a little harder, still not hard enough, cock pulsing at the sight of your ass bouncing, feeling it move under his hands. “Don’t be a little pussy, baby. Give it a slap like a fucking man.” Maybe it was a little mean, but you needed to feel his hand coming down on you. His near constant moans get louder, clearing enjoying the degradation. The next slap is hard. “Yes, little harder, baby. Fuck! Just like that, keep going. Don’t stop, want your handprints all week.”

He keeps going, smacking you harder each time. His balls rubbing on your clit pull up and he cums once again. This time, though, he pulls out, jerking his cock, cumming all over your ass. “Fucking shit! Wanted me to mark your fucking ass? Well I’m fucking doing it. Cumming so much. Maybe I’ll just stick my dick in your ass and cum in there too.” You don’t know where that came from, but it makes you ride his balls faster, ass jiggling as he continues to cum on it. “That’s so fucking hot, keeping moving that fat ass on me.” You really don’t know where his dirty mouth is coming from but you don’t care because holy hell is it hot.

 Seconds later, Bucky can’t take it anymore and shoves his cock back in your pussy, spreading his legs back out and planting them on the bed so he can fuck up into you. With your ass moving so much with his thrusts, his cum is going everywhere. Bucky lands a hard slap to your cheeks, smacking his cum into them, spreading it all around.

Just like before, he cums for minutes, cum flowing out of your pussy. The entire of both of your hips and your ass and the bed is completely drenched with his cum. When he’s done he pulls you off his cock and spins you around so you’re facing him again. “Baby, my cock is still so fucking hard, I don’t know what to do.” You coo at him, setting your hand against his cheek.

“Don’t worry, baby, I got you.” Instead of slipping his cock back into you, you grind against it, with every roll of your hips his sensitive tip rubs your clit. “Does this feel good, baby?”

“Uh huh, so good.” You see his adam's apple bob and his bottom lip wobble. The feral part of his brain that was fucking you earlier is gone, now your sweet boyfriend is left. He’s not even looking at the way his tip pops out between your folds, no, he’s staring right into your eyes. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against him, every part of your body touching his in some way.

You rest your forehead against his and meet his gaze, tears spilling over and running down the sides of his face. You gently wipe them away but they keep coming. One of his hands goes in between your bodies pushing his cock back inside its home, your warm walls enveloping every inch, both of you gasping. Bucky can’t decide if he wants to keep going or stop, a twinge of pain biting its way up his cock, but you just feel too good. He can’t leave your pussy, needing to cum one last time. The slow grind of your hips never speeds up, gently fucking him, no, making love to him.

Bucky tries to kiss you but the pleasure you’re giving leaves him putty in your hands. The kiss is sloppy and wet, but one of the best kisses you’ve ever had, feeling the words neither of you can get out at the moment. The hairs at the base of his cock rub your clit, building up your final orgasm, Bucky not long behind, trying to hold out for you.

“You’re okay, baby. Want you to cum for me, not far behind.” Any restraint left in Bucky’s body disappears, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he cums for the last time.

“Fuckkk, baby, love you so much, please, I need you to cum for me. Need it so bad.” The slow roll of his tears before shifts to full on sobs, pleasure too much. You pull yourself off his cock, knowing that it’s now too much for him. “No, no, I need you to cum, please.” Your hand trails down your body, fingers rubbing your clit, the sight of you makes Bucky whine, and pull you down into a kiss, where you cum, moaning into his mouth. 

You roll the both of you over, placing Bucky’s head on your chest, lightly scratching his scalp, tracing shapes on his back with your other hand. When his tears subside, Bucky is the first to speak. “Thank you for taking care of me.” 

You feel a lump form in your throat. Of course you would always take care of him. There is nothing that you wouldn’t do for him. “I love you so much, Bucky. I could never hurt you, only want to give you the best in life. After all you’ve done for me, it’s the least I could do.” Bucky doesn’t say anything after that, not knowing what to say, not being used to such unbridled love. 

A few minutes pass before the amount of cum and sweat surrounding you gets uncomfortable. “Come on, baby, lets get cleaned up.” Bucky whines but complies anyway. “Get the shower started for me? I’ll change the bed.” He nods and heads to the shower. You work as fast as you can to get the sheets off and a fresh set on. Still naked you run to the washroom and throw the soiled sheets in the wash and start it before running back to the bathroom. 

Bucky is waiting outside of the shower for you, eyes still red from crying, almost shying away from you. Grabbing his hand you lead him into the hot water. “You did so good for me, Bucky. Made me feel incredible. You know, if that was your first time, I’m going to need help from the gods to handle you when you practice more.” That gets a small smile from him. “Don’t get all bashful on me, big man, after you rocked my world back there.”

“Stop it, baby.” His words hold no heat to them, secretly loving your complements. “You did too, rocked my world, you know? Didn’t know it could feel that good. There isn’t anyone else I would rather do that with.” He’s going to make you cry one of these days, saying all this sweet shit to you, and you know he means every single word of it.

“Yeah? How do you feel? Feel okay? I know that was a lot for you.” He dips his head down when you reach for his shampoo, letting you wash his hair, then grabbing the soap and lathering the wash cloth, running it along his body. At the feeling of your soft hands on his body, taking care of him after he gave himself over to you, Bucky can’t respond, too caught up in your love. “Bucky?” Your hands stop, fearing the worst at his silence.

“Feel so good, baby. I…” Bucky chokes up, tears resurfacing. He doesn’t know why he’s crying. You pull him to you, hugging him until he stops. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I just, you make me feel so safe, I can’t control myself, I just feel, you know?” You know because he makes you feel the same way.

“Yeah, I do, baby, I do.” 

“Can I wash you?” After you took care of him, Bucky wants to do the same for you, never wanting you to feel like he was using you. You nod and Bucky takes extra care to get all of his cum off of you, cleaning you up just like you did to him. By the time you’re done in the shower, the water’s cold. Bucky takes a towel and wraps you up first. Before he can reach for his, you take it and dry him off. 

“What do you want to do now? We can cuddle, get something to eat, watch a movie, whatever you want.” You know how important aftercare is, especially when Bucky was feeling so vulnerable after his first time. 

“Can we just cuddle?” He looks almost scared to ask you for such a simple gesture.

“Of course we can.” Taking your hand, Bucky leads you to the bed, foregoing clothes. You pull the blankets up and let him rest his head on your chest, listening to the beat of your heart and steady breathing. Not too long after you hear his light snoring and know he’s asleep, you following soon after in the arms of the love of your life, excited to experience all of Bucky’s firsts with him, seeing him grow, not only in experience, but also confidence.

[pugh-bug]

Flashing Lights

Art Donaldson x reader

If people like this I’ll write a part 2 and possibly some sub Art fics in the future. Challengers is all I can think about at the moment and this blonde man is living rent free in my brain.

——————————————————————

‘Come on come on, they can never have too many pictures taken of them!’

Your friend dragged you and your mediocre camera, quite forcefully, to Tashi Duncan’s party. It wasn’t just that you hadn’t been invited and that you weren’t remotely a tennis player it was that Ashley’s lame excuse of ‘they need more photographers’ was patently untrue. Everywhere you looked there were photographers with cameras that cost more than your yearly rent.

‘I’ll get us a drink wait here.’

You watched her confidently insert herself into the queue for the bar, in between endless posters of Tashi Duncan hoodies and Tashi Duncan headbands. If you hadn’t been such a feminist you might have felt a little sick from all the masturbatory self promotion.

In your idleness you decided to people watch. There were no less than a hundred people there already, all dressed elegantly with hair and makeup that no doubt took longer to do than the night would even last. You pulled at your tight dress. Flattering? Definitely. Comfortable? Absolutely not. Ashley had the tennis body, the Tashi Duncan confidence and skill but without the praise or queue of fans. You had your camera.

You hadn’t touched a tennis racket since you were ten years old. These people weren’t your peers they were your betters, including the snobby photographers and perhaps even including Ashely. At least she knew what ‘down the line’ meant.

‘Can we go?’ Your voice sounded bitter as Ashley handed you a cocktail. ‘I’ve got two photoshoots to edit for tomorrow and I don’t even like tennis! Why am I even here?’ As your friend defended her plan to ‘sleep with as many rich tennis players as possible’ your eyes wandered once again, this time landing on a man who needed no introduction.

‘Is that … Art Donaldson?’

It was him, smoking a cigarette by Patrick Zweig dressed for Summer. Fire and ice in the flesh. You suddenly felt the need to readjust your dress, your hair, your earrings. To fidget. To fidget and prepare for the chance he might look in your direction and see what he wanted.

‘Fuck me it’s Zweig.’

As Ashley launched into a thesis on why Patrick was the hottest man she’d ever seen, your eyes bored into the side of Art’s head. His curls fell so perfectly on his forehead but all you could find yourself imagining was messing them up. As your staring breached the line of too far, Ashley tapped your arm. ‘Think I should go talk to him? Flirt a bit? He’s a bit of a man whore, I’m pretty sure I could get him.’ Just as you opened your mouth to speak, the recipient of your staring began to move closer.

It only took a few moments for Art to reach yours and Ashley’s corner of refuge but his eyes never strayed from you. Zweig had followed him like a puppy and whilst you couldn’t have cared less where the brunette chose to stand, you could practically feel Ashley screaming in her head.

‘Aaliyah right? You basically murdered my friend out there yesterday.’ As Ashley corrected Patrick’s memory, you forced your eyes to look at anything that wasn’t Art’s knowing smirk in your direction. It didn’t work, in fact your refusal to make eye contact with the future star had made your feelings glaringly obvious.

You’d watched him play many times, instead of doing your own work, and although you found tennis a little boring the man had you riveted. The ease at which he hit the ball with such force, the little hand movements he’d do during a tie break and his cruel habit of taking his shirt off on hot days … you were hooked.

As he eyed your dress you wondered if he’d seen you, made note of just how many matches you’d been front and centre at. Maybe he knew you were an amateur photographer and perhaps his smirk was intended as a mockery of your being there. Art knew you didn’t belong at thee Tashi Duncan’s after party. You both knew it. He looked at you, finally as you’d lifted your gaze, and cocked his head slightly to the side.

‘So, you don’t like tennis?’

Shit.

‘Oh. You heard that.’

‘Yep.’

His voice was glazed with amusement as he sipped his cold beer, daring you to defend yourself.

‘Ashley was invited,’ you lied with little ease. ‘I’m here as her friend- well I guess also photographer but you all seem to have that covered.’ Both yours and Art’s eyes glanced at the gang of professionals taking Tashi’s photo. She was holding the shimmering trophy as if it was nothing of real value, she had the humble but proud smile down. Art clocked your jealous expression and raised an eyebrow. ‘Tashi not your favourite?’

‘She’s pretty amazing and she looks fucking beautiful tonight I can’t lie. I just, I guess I wish I was that talented.’

Despite her successful flirting to Patrick, Ashley heard your little, sad admission. Mentally you scolded yourself for letting Art see your vulnerable side. Instead of judgement he smiled.

‘Are you not the best at getting front row seats?’

He left off ‘at my matches’ but the point had been made loud and clear. You chose not to react and to ignore him completely. ‘Ashley?’ But when you turned your head to your friend you saw her mouth was occupied. Oh.

Art laughed at his best friend. ‘Seriously? You couldn’t go one night?’ No, Patrick couldn’t and he couldn’t find it in his horny heart to feel guilty for stealing your one friend and escape route from you. The pair, still connected by their lips, hurried away from the party and to some poor fucker’s bedroom. You were alone with Art Donaldson and the party that engulfed the two of you had began to die down.

‘I should go too-‘

‘Wanna go down to the beach with me?’

You couldn’t help but scoff audibly at his request. ‘You don’t even know my name.’

Art’s eyes practically gleamed with cheekiness as he moved towards you. ‘Then tell me.’

‘It’s Y/N.’

With a charming smile he repeated his offer. ‘Y/N… wanna go down to the beach with me?’

If a mind reader had been in attendance you’d have been mortified as your first thought was: Oh god have I even shaved?

The decision to take your heels off had been an impulsive one and an instant regret as you felt the brittle sand rub against your toes. Avoiding the broken glass, you walked into Art’s shoulder and quickly apologised. ‘You’re like a baby deer.’

You perched on the rock overlooking the water that moonlight reached. Art’s eyes were transfixed on you as your hair blew from your shoulders. Surely he was just bored and flirting for fun. But you hadn’t seen him speak to anyone except Patrick before approaching you.

‘What is it about photography?’ Art gestured to the camera you almost forgot you were still wearing around your neck.

‘What is it about tennis?’

Art lit his second cigarette, took a drag and smirked.

‘I’ll let you answer that.’

Much to his elation, your dress had begun to ride up but you hadn’t noticed. You simply dug your toes in the sand and smiled coyly at the blonde. But how to best handle this?

‘Watching you play tennis isn’t like watching other people play tennis.’

Art grinned, only for a moment, but you caught the ego boost in real time. He moved backwards in his chair, outstretching his long legs and looking up at you with keen interest and quiet amusement. ‘Go on.’

Your mind flashed back to his most recent match. His opponent had purposefully coughed every time it was Art’s turn to serve and instead of letting it distract him or doing it back Art had fired the ball, with force, by his head. It had been a warning, not a greatly subtle one but certainly great to watch. The shock on the boys face as he narrowly missed receiving a black eye had made you laugh and you suddenly remembered Art had beamed at you when you had.

‘You’re just really good at it.’

‘Try again.’

He wasn’t making this easy for you but that didn’t mean you had to shower him in compliments, not when he hadn’t so much as asked you your name until prompted. You watched him, completely settled and comfortable in Tashi Duncan’s deck hair and wondered if someone this confident and talented (and knew as much) could possibly be single… unless?

‘Are you and Patrick just friends?’

He twitched ever so slightly at your question before covering his shock with a chuckle.

‘Umm.. yes. Sorry to disappoint.’

You smiled, suddenly feeling more confident now that you’d put him on the spot for the first time that night.

‘Not disappointed.’

Seeing you at ease, seemingly with any answer he had to offer, Art relaxed into his chair again. A moment of silence passed as the two of you listened to the very end of the party above and the seas tumbling waves. The water was just beginning to reach the rock you’d been safely perching on. A sign to leave.

‘I think I should go back to my ho-AAA!’

You’d barely taken two steps before buried broken glass assaulted your feet.

‘Jesus fuck!’

‘Y/N!’

The pain shot through you from toe to head, it settled in between your eyebrows as you frowned, trying not to scream. Art’s face was a picture of panic. He couldn’t help but notice how much pain you were in from putting weight on your foot, which had just begun to bleed as a thought entered his head.

‘I’ll carry you.’

‘I think I can walk.’

You took a hesitant step further but your foot ,in an act of betrayal, buckled under the pain. Giving Art a look of defeat you sighed. ‘Yeah, I think you’re gonna have to.’

You thought it would feel strange, the man whom you’d been watching almost obsessively for months play a sport you despised carrying you to safety. It didn’t. It felt right. His strong arms flexed under your weight as he took confident but cautious steps to Tashi’s party. There wasn’t much left of it. In fact the only people still there were two photographers packing up their lighting equipment and they didn’t give you so much as a second glance.

‘Any chance you secretly are friends with Tashi?’ Art asked, his voice hopeful, hoping he could drop you off to safety. He pursed his lips when you shook your head. Another moment of silence passed through the two of you but this one was different. You craned your neck out to gage the distance before suggesting:

‘My hotel really isn’t far. A mile at most.’

Art smirked for a moment, forgetting what the actual circumstances were. Your foot had stopped bleeding but you didn’t feel like walking. In fact you were rather enjoying Art Donaldson: the knight in shining armour. It was a good look on him.

‘Uber?’

‘Think of it as a workout.’

It wasn’t the recreational workout Art had been hoping for that night but he did it. He carried you and your shoes to your hotel room. The receptionist barely reacted to your new person but of course what did she care? She was probably only concerned with what mess you’d leave the cleaners.

‘67, this is it.’

Art put you down, keeping his arm around your waist for support. He was a little flushed from the exertion and you were flushed from the pain, or perhaps just his wandering hand.

‘Do you want me to st-‘

‘I want you to stay.’ You interrupted him hurriedly, desperate for him to stay. In that moment you didn’t mind if he stayed to read the complimentary bible next to you or if he wanted to fuck you mercilessly in front of the bathroom mirror. You just wanted him close.

At your eagerness, Art smiled following you in. Your hotel room was not too messy for visitors but it certainly hadn’t been expecting any. For a moment you wondered how Ashley was getting on in her room down the hall and if she too had embarrassed herself in front of her favourite tennis player. Somewhat likely.

‘I think seeing as you’ve carried me bleeding you can see me in pyjamas. Give me one se-‘

You gestured to the bathroom and your dress, looking forward to getting out of it but Art shook his head. You froze. His face was one of sheer determination and unwavering confidence, not unlike the look he gave cocky opponents who needed humbling. He closed the gap between you until his chest was inches from yours but blocked by your camera. You took it off, not breaking eye contact, and placed it slowly on the desk behind you.

Just as you thought the only way to break the silence would be with a kiss, Art broke eye contact. ‘Do you have any antiseptic wipes? Anything to clean it?’ You felt your stomach unclench. ‘Yeah.’ Limping slightly, you fetched a packet from the bathroom sink and placed them in Art’s open palm. He gestured to the bed.

‘Sit.’

His order was polite but you felt compelled. Sitting on your own bed as if it was alien, you looked up at him waiting for the next.

‘Foot.’

Art got down on his knees. Your stomach flipped. With careful hands, he held your injured foot and inspected it. You’d never felt so exposed before, the way his eyes engaged with your wound as if it were more fascinating than any match he’d won. There was an unspoken rule for neither of you to speak as he cleaned you. It stung like a bitch but you only let out minor hisses in pain, barely audible to Art but not unnoticeable.

As he took out a plaster, seemingly from thin air, and applied it to your foot he said: ‘Before tonight,’ Ouch. You winced from the pressure he applied. ‘I’d seen you watching me.’ He didn’t look at you, only concentrating on his handiwork and causing you as little pain as possible.

‘Yeah I gathered from all the teasing.’

His voice grew suddenly lower. ‘I’m not talking about tennis matches.’

You were suddenly reminded of a not so distant memory. Ashley had stood you up for lunch, she’d found a better hot date, and you had been in the cafeteria alone. Art had been queuing in front of you, waiting for Patrick and you’d been in awe. What you hadn’t noticed was that he’d sensed your eyes burning holes into the back of his head long before he turned around. He had given you a passing look of recognition and slight amusement before finding his seat next to Patrick.

You imagined alongside that memory were hundreds others. Hundreds of days you’d stared at Art, watched how he span his apples before eating them and the line of his jaw when he drank water in oppressive heat. All the time he had known, you just hadn’t been as subtle as you thought.

‘Oh.’

Art gave you your foot back and sat on the bed beside you. For a moment you couldn’t bare to look at him, incase he disappeared and decided it was funnier to leave you hanging. Your foot was the least of your worries. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d really kissed someone, with feverish need, but you wanted to.

Noticing your inward battle, Art raised his hands almost in defeat. ‘I can leave.’ He meant it, there was no judgement. You turned to him, your eyes meeting his clouded with lust, and recognised that this was a man who needed to be wanted. He wanted to give and receive pleasure, not out of boredom but out of a clawing need for it. If you wanted him to leave then he’d leave but if you wanted him to stay then he’d make the most of it.

Your hand settled atop of his.

‘Don’t.’

Part 2

Masterlist

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . GETO SUGURU ; — your plug geto thinks you’re more addictive than anything he’s ever tried.

warnings: f!reader, plug!geto, weed use, shot gunning (i’ll never stop), honestly i still get so nervous writing him cause i’m not too happy w my characterisation but i rly wanted to write this idea, half proof-read & v messy! note: sorry but he lives in my mind rent free <3

the knock on the door was telling to who it was before you answered, not that you were expecting anyone else at almost 1am, but you still think he seemed to get unfairly more attractive everytime you greeted him in your doorway.

your plug, geto suguru, was too attractive actually — half of his dark hair typed back but it still remains messy enough to frame his pretty features. he was dressed in nothing but sweats and an oversized hoodie, finished off with a just as oversized jacket that just fit him perfectly and you’re pretty sure he’s used to his.. clientele drooling over him at this point when the smile he offers you is a little teasing but still kind.

“hm, can i come in, pretty girl?” the pet name was like honey between his teeth, like it was easy as he takes a careful step into your apartment but his eyes are still on you when he turns to meet you, tilting his head as he lets his gaze trail along your skin.

“did you bring it?”

“mhm.”

but geto can’t deny that among all of his clients you’re his favourite — always so willing to smoke out his new stock with him because hes always oh so eager to hear your opinion, to feel it when your pussy is stretched around the weight of his cock because he knows that alone will tell him all he needs.

he always gives you an adoring look as he waits for your words, cool metal of his rings palming at your ass as he holds the joint out to you with the other — his own gaze is lidded and drowsy but it’s still on you when you lean into catch the end between your lips. your pouty lips kiss the pad of his fingers lightly and he spreads your cheeks before he offers you a deep, languid thrust that makes you twitch — almost choke as he watches you inhale with his lower lip between his teeth and a crooked grin.

“careful.” geto drawls deliberately as he lets his head tilt to the side again, followed by a breathless croon of a chuckle when you cast him a frown as he watches you inhale. but he thinks you’re like an angel when your blown out gaze meets his before you lean back, half-lidded as you hold the smoke between your lips and let him see the way your pretty tits bounce with the next intoxicating twist of your hips.

“feels like you like this one. fuck, y’re sensitive.” he grunts as he lets his free hand swipe tentatively over your clit — making your rocking body tremble with a mixture of want and need as you all but melt into him. your mind feels like it’s full of cotton and the way he makes your insides curl and ache everytime he sinks his cock into you is only heightened by the new strain.

another addictive bounce along the length of geto’s cock makes your head roll back until you’re exhaling, and he takes a long draw of the joint between his own smirking lips before his hand squeezes at your hips. “mhm~ ‘ts so good, sugu.” you answer eventually and he can’t help the way one side of his grin seems to stretch wider as he offers you a slow blink with his next smokey breath.

“shit, look so fuckin’ pretty when you say it like that.” his name he means because even despite the weed he can’t help the way you make him feel lightheaded, eager for more as he meets every eager roll of your hips with one of his own just so he can feel the way you squeeze harder around him the deeper he goes.

the smoke of geto’s exhale curls into the room and you let your head roll forward to watch it before you offer him a drowsy blink. you feel fuzzy — like your mouth is suddenly dry and your body feels heavy despite how easy you seem to be dragging yourself along his cock. the tingling along your limbs is only exaggerated by how perfectly the blunt head is gliding along your swollen spots and it makes you bear down on him eagerly as he helps you bounce on his lap.

“look at you.” he grits as he lets his large palm graze between the valley of your breasts before he takes a slow, languid handful to squeeze and you feel his praise drip through you before you giggle.

“‘ts just the weed.”

“nah, you’re jus’ beautiful.” geto’s reply is honest despite the way its slightly muffled by the blunt being placed back between his lips, letting the silence hang in the space where you both take a breath before he’s pulling you closer. you let your fingers graze underneath the oversized neckline of his hoodie as you sway forward, scratching along the ivory skin before he trembles and you offer him a pretty, starry-eyed look before you grin.

“awww, am i your favourite?” it’s meant playfully, but he’s so hypnotised by the way your eyelashes kiss your cheeks with your slow blink that he can’t help but draw you in before he answers. your fingers naturally twist in his dark hair as he kisses you and his gruff sigh is accompanied by the heat of his exhale when his previous draw floods your mouth, letting you inhale the smokey breath instinctively as your chest presses closer against his.

you’re much too enthralled by the dreamy tightness in your chest that only geto seems to give you that you can barely remember your question. but he lets you lose yourself in him as he grinds up into your warm pussy, his tongue gliding along your own until you feel like your melting from where he’s got you held tight in his lap before he pulls away to peck at your swollen lips.

“thought that much was obvious, pretty girl.”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[celestiamour]

i'm so disgustingly down bad for logan howlett/wolverine/hugh jackman that i can't think of anything that isn't him and haven’t been writing. this man is living in my head rent-free even though I've never even heard of his name or xmen until now.

he just has to show up in advertisements tempting me (esp the one where he's laid out "paint me like one of your canadian girls” omg i want that old man carnally), i've read all of the x reader fics with him about four times now and need more 😭😭 perhaps i’ll watch all the necessary movies and write my own

[ponderingmoonlight]

Nanami losing it completely when (y/n) gets severely injured at Shibuya

Shibuya Arc scenarios that live in my head rent-free pt.lll

Part l with Gojo and Geto here Part ll with Toji here

Pairing: Nanami Kento x reader

Word Count: 2,3k

Synopsis: After receiving a message with your location, Nanami rushes to your side, showing no mercy with the man who laid his hands on you.

Warnings: I literally shed a tear while writing this so be prepared, sooo much hurt, comfort at the end, you wanted this and I wanted it too this is one of my favorite fics I have ever written

His gaze is empty as he stares down at the bloody shell of his friend. Severely injured by multiple blade slashes, completely covered in his own blood, his life hanging on a thin thread.

“You have some nerves…”, he mutters.

Nanami clenches his hands into fists. Whoever did this will pay for it with his own life, he will make sure of that. But right now he has to get his friend out of here, provide him with better medical treatment, check on the other assistants, make sure that they are alright, eliminate whatever is responsible for Ijichi’s condition. What if that thing hurt the others too? Fuck, how the hell did all of this happen? And where the hell are you?

“(y/n)”, he breathes out.

His heart sinks when reality starts to hit him.

You.

You were also stationed here. After all, you aren’t a jujutsu sorcerer but a skilled combat fighter with impressive powers. You were right here, right here with Ijichi.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be alright!”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. His strong arms lift Ijichi’s numb body up with ease, thoughts racing. If something happened to you, if these fuckers harm a single hair on you…

He runs as fast as he can, fueled by nothing but thick fear and all the emotions that wash over him like a wave. He might lose it all. His friend, everyone else, you. The love of his life, the only woman who truly fascinates him, his best friend. And he hasn’t even told you all that. No, Nanami never shared his feelings with you, not when his fear of losing you is so great. But right now, with the death of his friend in front of his blank eyes, it dawns on him.

After this night, he might lose you forever.  

“Please be alright, I’m coming for you (y/n).”

-(y/n)'s POV-

Your whole body burns like a thousand fires, blood soaking your black suit. Everything aches, you feel like fainting, your sword lifelessly lays on the crimson floor. Is this really how your life comes to an end? Through the hands of someone like him?

“You fucker”, you spit out along with some blood, fists still ready to hit him again.

“Huh, why so rude? I’m just playing a little”, he replies sweetly before beating you in your guts again, his blade narrowly missing you.

It can’t go on like this, you can’t take any other hit. Your puny figure lands on the floor harshly, body desperately screaming at you with every fiber.

But you can’t stop now. After all, Nitta and all the other assistants are relying on you. Right now, you have to be your own hero.

“Standing up again? I’m starting to get bored to be honest. Why can’t you just die already?”

One moment of inattention. One second of giving in to your pain is enough for him to stab his blade through your shoulder, slicing your flesh open with ease. You see stars, the overwhelming pain that starts to radiate through your entire body simply takes your breath away. All you can do is stare at him with wide eyes while a silent scream escapes your lips.

You’ve had so much planned. Damn, you wanted to finally confess your feelings to him. Nanami Kento, the man you admire more than anyone else on this planet, the man that showed you there’s still class, who gets on his knees when talking to you, who makes sure you feel save whenever he’s around. God, how much you love him.

Your face hardens in determination. No, you can’t die without at least telling him once about your true feelings towards him.

With a swift motion you steady yourself again before kicking him with so much force that he crushes into the wall backwards, laughing hysterically.

“Finally you show me what you’ve got!”, he screams out in please while you pant hard.

It’s obvious that you don’t have much left, hanging on a thin string. The amount of blood you’ve lost due to your countless wounds is critical, you don’t need Shoko to know that. If help doesn’t arrive soon, you’ll die right here.

You could call him. Nanami’s number is just one swipe of your finger away. You could call him and tell him where you are, that you’re in big trouble and that you need him just like he told you.

“(y/n), if anything goes wrong, don’t hesitate and call me. I can’t afford to lose you. Promise me to look after yourself.”

He stared so intensely at you back then, his words made your heart skip a beat. But you can’t call him. After all, Nanami is on a much more important mission with countless life relying on his broad shoulders. It would be selfish to expect him to save you while so many people are dying.

“I’m sorry, Kento”, you mumble to yourself, voice nothing more but a fade away whisper.

No, don’t cry right now, don’t let the enemy see that you suffer. Nanami wouldn’t want you so feel this way. Stand your ground one last time, fight back as hard as you can.

One last distress signal. One last way to warn and protect the rest of the team.

“I’ve told everyone where you are, moron”, you shout at him, a maniac grin plastered on your face.

“Ow, how nice of you! Then I’ll hang your body up uhm…right there so they can see you when they come here!”, he remarks with sparkling eyes.

“I’d love to see you try”, you bark back.

-Nanami's POV-

“It’s (y/n)’s location”, Nitta huffs while Nanami bandages Ijichi up and Nobara is busy contacting help.

His heart stops for a second. This means you’re still alive and able to use your phone. But why would you send your location?

“She must have found something…”, Nanami ponders out loud.

“Do you think she needs help?”

Nitta’s voice echoes through his mind. To be honest, he doesn’t care about why you shared your location. All he wants to do right now is find and save you.

“You both stay here with Ijichi. I’ll go looking after (y/n).”

“Can I-“

“No”, Nanami immediately interrupts Nobara’s request.

“You stay here and wait for aid.”

And with that, he’s gone again, following your location blinking on his phone. Please be safe, please smile at him like you always do when you see him, eyes lighting up and making his heart melt. God, just be save.

His feet carry him to your location with ease but let him stop abruptly at the trail of blood in front of the building you are positioned in. Nanami feels like throwing up, the worst scenarios flooding his mind while he stares at the crimson colored floor. He should have accompanied you. No, he shouldn’t have allowed you to come to Shibuya in the first place.

With his head still spinning, he storms into the building and his world stops.

There you lay, in a puddle of your own blood, completely covered in bruises while a man raises his blade against you, just about to sink it into your precious body.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you.”

That voice. That all too familiar voice that brings tears to your eyes. Is he really here? Did he get the notification? A single droplet rolls down your cheek while your hazy gaze meets his. He looks so different, absolutely threatening.

Nanami rolls up his sleeves and walks towards both of you. Fuck, you’ve never seen him like this, his aura almost suffocates you. It is clear that he’s absolutely furious.

“I’ll tell you one last time. Back off.”

“Or what?”, the man above you challenges.

“Or I’ll make you regret that you were born.”

His voice makes your blood freeze. As if in slow motion, Nanami loosens his tie and wraps it around his hand.

“Huh, you’re not wearing a black suit, but I guess I’m still allowed to ki-“

He isn’t able to finish his sentence. Nanami’s fist rushes forward in god-like speed, slamming the man off you, through the window, into the next building.

“I’ll be right back. Hold on, sweetheart”, he mutters.

With one last glance at you, he steps out into the cold night, only inches away from losing his temper completely. Who does this man think he is to lay is hands on you and his friends? This is unacceptable, this is unforgivable. Nanami will make him pay for every minor wound conflicted on your striking body, he will make him regret his whole life before ending it.

“What’s the number and locations of your allies?”

It isn’t enough to only kill him. No, every single one of these fuckers will pay for what they did today. For killing countless assistants, for almost ending the life of his friend.

But most importantly, for hurting the love of his life.

“I don’t know!”, the man hollers at him, trying to slice him open unsuccessfully.

Nanami stares at him with dead calm eyes while he tries to hit him another time, his patience slowly starting to fail him.

“What’s the number and locations of your allies?!”

His hands are clenches into tight fists. One more word. One more word of nonsense coming out of his mouth and he’ll kill him.

“I don’t k-“

Enough. One punch is enough to send that fucker through the next window.

You can’t help but admire the way Nanami walks up to him, his forearms flexed in a way you have never seen before while his broad shoulders seem to crush you with his confidence. He looks absolutely threatening, like a menace.

The blond-haired man tries to escape, but in the matter of seconds, Nanami grabs his ponytail and lifts him up.

“What’s the number and locations of your allies?”

You hold your breath, eyes wide open by the sound of his voice. This isn’t the Nanami Kento you know, the tender man with cool temper that never loses it. But oh, at the moment you feel like he’s possessed with the way his muscles flex underneath his shirt, the look on his face so furious that you have to swallow.

“I told you, I don’t kn-“

Another hit and the blonde lands on the ground, a dumb smile plastered on his face. You know that look all too well, he has planned something…Where is his blade?

There it is, on its way to slash Nanami open. You don’t hesitate. Despite the way your shoulder screams at you and begs you to stop, you grab your sword and throw it, deflecting his blade deftly just before it reaches Nanami while crying out in pain.

“You little bitch, stay out!”, he screams at you.

Nanami snaps. He grabs his throat roughly, chocking him without any mercy.

“You have some nerves, calling her a bitch when I’m standing in front of you. How dare you to even talk to her, to lay your hands on her body? On my way here, I found several of our assistant supervisors dead. That was you, wasn’t it? And now you dare to raise your voice against my girl?”

“I-I’m sorry”, the blonde stutters.

It happens faster than your tired eyes can follow. One last blow of Nanami’s fist sends the man out of the building, out of sight. This killed him without any doubt. Your eyes begin to water uncontrollably when a wave of relief washes over you. Despite all the blood you’ve lost, you’re alive. Nanami is here, he saved you.

“Don’t stand up, (y/n). You’re losing a severe amount of blood”, Nanami’s calm voice instructs before he kneels down in front of you.

“Kento”, you whisper his name like a prayer, tears rolling down your cheeks as the pain becomes unbearable.

“I know, sweetheart. You did really well, I’m so proud of you. Without your selfless efforts, he would probably have claimed even more victims. I still don’t call it good that you didn’t inform me about this situation.”

His hand caresses your bruised cheek gently, making you lose it completely.

“I didn’t want other people to get killed because you were busy with me”, you cough out.

“(y/n), no matter how critical the situation is, I will always look after you. You are the greatest treasure of my life and I…”

“I love you!”, you cry out, pressing your head against his head.

All these countless nights of dreaming about him holding you, all the stolen glances, the pondering. You just can’t take it anymore. Maybe it’s the blood loss or the immense pain that seems to speak out of you, but you’ve had enough. Fuck getting rejected or losing him because of your dumb feelings, you need him to know.

“I love you too, sweetheart. When I saw you laying here in your own blood I felt like dying myself.”

All you can do is stare at him through glossy eyes. Did this words really just leave his mouth? Of all the possible answers you imagined for this moment, “I love you too”, definitely wasn’t one of them.

“Let’s talk about this later, shall we? I need to get you out of here, you need medical attention”, he continues.

“I will pick you up now, okay?”

His hands glide under your knees and back, lifting your aching body up with ease and pressing your frame against his chest.

You groan out, hand cramping around his shirt.

“Thank you for saving me. And for loving me.”

His heart skips a beat, the lovely look on your distressed face almost making him forget how to breathe. How is it possible that a perfect human being like you loves someone like him? His arms wrap themselves tighter around your body.

“Don’t thank me for that, sweetheart.”

He will never let you go again. Not at Shibuya, not anywhere else.

[bridgetotheskyyy]

Research - Jiraiya

Kinktober Masterlist

Warnings: 18+, titfucking, cum eating, fluff, has the nerve to be romantic lmaooo

A/n: Day 2! Jiraiya is the perfect mixture of raunchy perv and gentlemen and if I get to use my bring back one character card it's gonna be on him 😭❤❤❤

Read on Ao3.

The door slid open, but not with ease. 

"Jiraiya?" You pushed past the scraps of paper, potato chip bags, and discarded notebooks interfering with the door’s lower half.

You let yourself into the small apartment and surveyed the damage.

“In here.”

You strode to the living room and there he was: Jiraiya sulked in his chair, lording over an apocalyptic desk. You had never seen so many sheets of paper in your life.

“Is ―” You broke off as a groan lodged itself in Jiraiya’s throat. “Is everything all right?”

“Fine,” he grumbled.

Clearly something was up, and you didn't know what gave it away ― maybe it was the putrid smell of defeat or the dozens of crumbled rejection letters your feet swam in.

Again, Jiraiya groaned. He leaned into a chair creaking under his weight. His enormous arm lay slung over his eyes to block the nonexistent daylight, his tailed hair roping around the floor. 

He hummed tiredly. "You didn't come to collect rent, did you?"

“Jiraiya,” You began with a tone to emphasize what came next should be obvious, “I don’t ask for you for rent, remember?”

It had only been a few weeks since you had let Jiraiya stay in one of your units rent free to finish his latest pulp novel ― how has he forgotten? 

“Ah,” he said. “That’s right. Remind me once this infernal book is finally done to include my appreciation for your hospitality in the acknowledgements.” His other hand shot out as if to give a toast. “To the kindness of strangers!”

A hinge of hurt sent you frowning. “So, I’m a stranger?”

Silence. Jiraiya peeked to admire you. 

“No, you’re not.” He shrouded his eyes again. “Sorry. Shouldn't have said that.”

You approached him, circled his defeated form like a concerned mother hen. “Are you ill? Do you need something?”

He finally removed his forearm. “Have you had much luck with love, (Y/n)?”

You perked. “Hm? I ― What do you mean?”

He quirked his head at you. “C’mon. You know what I mean.” 

“Well … I mean …” Your face grew warm. You nodded. “Yeah. I mean …” This part was under your breath. “... depends on what you mean by luck …”

“I knew it.” Jiraiya sighed and collapsed against the back of his chair. “You weren’t fooling anyone with that pretty face.”

You grew warmer under the spotlight of the compliment. “I …” He thinks I’m pretty?

“You’ll never know how good you have it,” Jiraiya said. Without ceremony, he abandoned the chair to pace around the room. “Do you know how hard it is to write about the raunchy threads of everlasting love when you’ve had no real practice?”

You blinked. Not the first time the man’s diction has thrown you for a loop and thoroughly bewildered you. 

“Raunchy ― raunchy threads ―?”

“Sometimes, I wonder if I’m really cut out for this.” Jiraiya shook his head. “Even success doesn’t guarantee satisfaction with one’s work. Who knew!”

“Jiraiya,” You implored. “You have a series of bestselling novels under your belt.” You playfully pushed at his shoulder ― what bit of it you could reach anyway. “Everyone struggles. You shouldn’t give up so fast!”

Silence, save for the crickets demanding attention tucked away in outdoor bushes.

Jiraiya laughed, a heaty, deep laugh from his belly. 

“Now you sound like one of my students!” 

You shrugged. “I’d offer to help, but you never let me, remember?”

Jiraiya stopped, as though an idea had held its arm out to stop his pacing. 

“You have …” He turned to you. His eyes flickered downward to study you. “Say … Would you … be up for helping me now?”

You threw him a suspicious look. “Depends on how I’ll be helping.” 

Jiraiya’s expression shifted ― nervousness etched onto his face. “Ahem … well …”

He began pacing again. Your brows creased as you followed his movements. What was he up to?

“It’s just,” he began. “When you’re writing, there are just so many unknowns. Things I can’t possibly know, being such a loser with women.” He socked the side of his head with a fist, seemingly convinced in his dried-up state the abuse could lead to some heart-stopping revelation. “Things I can’t even begin to imagine ― you know, ahem, despite the job description.”

“You’re stalling,” You teased. “It’s never good when you stall.”

Jiraiya faced you. You leveled with his chest, the sheer enormity of the man baffling in comparison to you. 

You probably would’ve been scared. 

If it hadn't been him.

Jiraiya reached out. His palm touched the wall, leaving you semi-caged in as he leaned toward you. 

“I’m going to do something,” he muttered. “Something I’ve always wanted to do. Promise not to hit me?”

“Why would I hit you?” You hoped he could not hear the tremble in your voice.

Jiraiya shrugged. “Minimal success with the fairer sex has taught me to proceed with caution.”

Your stomach knotted into itself. The shadow of his intentions fluttered vaguely over the penumbra of your mind. 

“Okay,” You whispered.

Jiraiya inched closer ― every inch a century ― and bridged the gap between you and him, his lips brushing yours before securing them in a soft kiss.

Soft. Gentle, both his lips and the technique he used. 

It was a good thing, too; for if he had used any more force, you surely would’ve died on the spot. 

His unoccupied hand came to cup the back of your head, cajoling you closer. Your lips moved on his while hands cupped the sides of his face. His rough-textured skin laid under your timid touch. Jiraiya hummed in appreciation. His tongue flicked out to ask tentative permission into your mouth.

But once you offered it, he pulled away. He held your gaze for a few seconds before retreating. He stopped midway to press a reverent kiss to your exposed shoulder pad. 

When he parted from you, you trailed his every move back to his disastrous desk. 

“Sorry,” Jiraiya murmured. He laid a hand on the back of his chair for support. “If I went on, I wouldn’t have stopped.” 

You said nothing, only sucked your lips in to taste the phantom of Jiraiya’s kiss.

“Hopefully, I’ve made my true feelings known,” he said. He leaned over his desk for a second before swiping something from it, one sheet of paper amidst many. 

“You …” You trailed. “You … Me?”

He approached you with a chuckle nestled in a smile. “Yes.”

He leaned over the wall, cool-guy style, and the position strangely suited him. You were still recovering as his eyes roved over the sheet of paper limp in his hold.

“I’m sure you also know now all my female love interests are secretly you,” Jiraiya went on. “I’m just so good at remaining subtle, I bet you didn’t notice.”

You had, in your wildest dreams, thought a character or two possessed your likeness, but you had never been so full of yourself to have actually imagined ― 

He offered the paper to you. “This is the scene I’m stuck on. Would you mind reading it over for me?” 

You blinked. It felt like a thousand things were happening when, really, one thing had happened at a time. But so many things. 

“Su ― Sure.” You took the paper. 

You read it, Jiraiya suspiciously close to you, peering over to watch you review his work. His scent dizzied you ― pinewood and paper and pencil shavings, hardly a dazzling combination, but it was him. So it was.

You read. You understood. You blushed.

Jiraiya’s lip-corner quirked, seemingly suspecting you were at the end of the scene. 

“I wanted to make my true feelings known before I suggested this ―” Jiraiya tapped the paper with a finger. “I didn’t want you thinking for a second I was trying to use you for anything.”

You laughed, prompted by the absurdity of it all. He wanted you to ―

You smirked.

“So,” he began, a flirtatious lilt to his voice, “will you do it?” 

You turned to him, tipping your head up to stare at the bigger man. 

“I’d be happy to.”

“Hold still ― hah ― that’s good, argh, that’s gooood ―”

Jiraiya sat above you, face strained. His mouth hung open, the heated huffs of his breath warming your skin, prompting your sensitive nubs to perk. 

You laughed; it was fun to watch him come apart like this, better than any vague fantasy.

“How does this even come up in the story, Jiraiya?”

Jiraiya chuckled amidst the pleasure. “Hehe, ahem, well …”

You squeezed your tits against his cock, presumably to shut him up. Jiraiya stilled, breath sharp.

His shaft sat nestled, secure in the valley of your breasts. You sat your chin on your collarbone to glance at the red, flared cockhead twitching up at you.

You licked your lips. “Is this what you’ve been seeing in your mind’s eye?” You gathered your breasts and began to jerk him, cupping him between your tits. “Picturing me like this, underneath you?”

Jiraiya leaned forward, his tail of hair falling inches from your face.

You cupped your breasts around him, working them against the sensitive skin of his excited cock. 

“I can’t imagine why you got stuck,” You purred, eyes narrowed on the gorgeous man above you.

“Ah, aahah …” Jiraiya’s mouth hung open as his hips worked in tandem with you. “Too enthralled with the real thing ― aargh!”

“I love seeing you like this,” You breathed out.

“I’m sure you do ― aah, gods, they’re perfect!” Jiraiya retrieved his cock to slap it against one tit before securing it in the slit you'd made for him. He jerked his hips; they stuttered as you closed any further gap between his cock and your pillowy breasts. “You’re perfect.”

He opened his eyes ― wrong move; just in time to see your tongue flick out and swipe at his cockhead.

“Urgh!” Jiraiya planted a hand beside your head to secure his balance. “Who knew you’d be such a natural at this?” 

“I did say I had experience, didn’t I?” You swiped and sucked at his cockhead with a hungry mouth. “Did you ― mmf ― forget?”

“Head’s kinda cloudy right now, admittedly ― aah!”

His cock dangled at your mercy, following the swift up-down motion of your breasts. 

You continued egging him on amongst his moaning. It was heavenly, watching the Great Toad Sage come apart just by the use of your tits. You licked and took his cockhead into your mouth, popping it out before speeding up your motions. 

“C’mon,” You urged at the hastening of his breath. “C’mon, Jiraiya, mmm …!”

“Please stop talking,” Jiraiya said. “Nurgh ― so good.” He cracked an eye open to smile weakly at you. “I’ve gotta last, y’know?”

You stared crookedly. “Why?”

“Research purposes ― ah, oh, gods ― we’ve been over this.”

You paused, your breasts falling flat at your sides.

“You know we could always just do this again right?” 

Jiraiya popped both eyes open, collecting himself just enough to speak clearly.

“You’d let me?” he said. “You’d really let me?”

Your eyes flickered over his face lovingly. “Yes.”

“Huh … I guess you’re right.” He smirked, stars in his eyes. “Totally right.”

You rolled your eyes. “S’what I just sai ―”

Jiraiya kneaded at your breasts, thumbs grazing over the precious nubs. You shuddered as he gripped them, adjusting his hips ― and gave a thrust.

He grunted as he took the reigns, thoroughly fucking your tits at his own preferred pace. You gasped as he pinched a nipple in his grasp, twirling it between huge, calloused fingers.

“Aha ―” His cockhead brushed repeatedly over your lips. “Jiraiya ― ah, hah ―!”

“So good,” Jiraiya hung his head back, exposing the raw muscles of his pectorals, the beautiful outline of his collarbone to you. “Such a sweet girl, letting me use you like this …” 

Your cunt throbbed from the heated praise. Again, you licked out for him, your tongue swiping at his cockhead, swishing into the slick slit with each jut of Jiraiya’s hips. 

Jiraiya gritted his teeth. His cock twitched in your hold. Against his own desires, his pace quickened. His abdomen barreled into your chest, skin to heated skin.

He groaned, lurched forward, more animal than man. “I’m gonna ―”

“It’s okay, do it ― cum for me ―”

Jiraiya threw his head back. He released with a growl, his seed patterning your clavicle, your chin, your lower lip. 

He panted as the thrums subsided. He recovered, staring down at you. A string of his cum dribbled down the side of your face. 

Sense returned to him; he frowned. Without fanfare, Jiraiya un-straddled you, as though it was the most gentleman-like behavior he could muster in that moment. 

“I’m sorry.” He let you up. “Let me get you a ―”

You laughed. You collected what was left of him and licked it off your finger.

He went bug-eyed. “You ― you want to ―?”

“Of course,” You said. You patted his inner wrist, having been left limp on the floor in surprise. “It’s okay ― it’s okay,” You insisted as Jiraiya moved to stop you.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” 

You swept up his spent, swallowed, and he watched you with an amazement you couldn’t name. 

“You weren’t lying, were you?” You muttered, turning on your side to face him on the floor. “You really don’t know how these things work? You haven’t …”

Jiraiya recovered enough to perform a halfhearted shrug.

You gasped, tilted your head. “You’re not ―”

“No,” Jiraiya said before you got carried away. “I’m not a virgin, just … Never been super lucky.”

Jiraiya’s fingers brushed against the soft skin of your inner wrist, calloused fingers trailing the faint train of your veins. “Until now.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Idea by @idfkeatdust

I originally wanted the reader to be a child of Hestia but only to find out she doesn’t really have any kids. (From what I’ve read) So that’s out of the question. Love that for me 😂

Also Luke acting like a big bro to the younger campers lives in my head rent free. This is too long and probably doesn’t make much sense but I was like half asleep whilst writing this and unable to figure out how to end this seamlessly, so blame that and shitty writing.

Luke vividly remembered the exact moment he fell for you as though it were yesterday, how could he not when it was one of the only things that brought him any semblance of happiness and normality within the typically grim life of a demi-god.

It was during your first ever game of capture the flag at camp, you were allied with the blue team and stationed with the flag as a defender, tasked with the important job of stopping the red team from snagging it and claiming victory along with bragging rights. You were hyper vigilant of everything, from your stance, to the way you held your sword and shield like a iron vice, right down to the pace of your breathing and even made a headcount of every time you blinked as to stop yourself from your mind over reacting at every sound the forest made; believing it to be the enemy team making their move ahead of time.

If you were under any other circumstance, Luke would’ve found this kind of thing reaction endearing but it didn’t matter in the end because the blue team ended up winning out against the red team, all thanks to Luke and his excelled talents in swordsmanship and leadership as per usual.

What really sealed the deal for Luke in his feelings for you however was how genuinely happy you seemed upon hearing the news that your team won. You looked towards him with the brightest eyes and sweetest, widest smile he’s ever seen on the face of anyone he had ever met previous to you, and yet he couldn’t help but attempt to imitate your blinding smile but failed as it felt disingenuous; that typically tends to happens when you’ve won at pretty much every capture the flag since arrival, serval times over.

‘We won?’ You asked, still smiling.

‘Are your ears filled with cotton?’ Like asked rhetorically, holding you by the shoulder, smiling back at you. ‘yeah we won. Why? You act like this is your first time winning anything?’ He continued and takes in the way you averted your gaze elsewhere as though pondering whether or not you should admit something to him, only to look back at him and say ‘well I never got to do the winning as I was never given the opportunity to be on the winning team. The winning side.’ You admitted, shrugging your shoulders. ‘Only ever on the losing side. So I tend to treasure the times where I do win, even if it’s small victories, they still mean something in the end.’ You added.

Luke’s smile softened as he hears this, whilst also finding immense respect for you in recognising and taking pride in triumphs in ways that others would consider not worth the effort in obtaining; it truly made him think back on how he had taken his own achievements for granted and instead of celebrating the fact that he even won at all. ‘That’s one hell of a way to look at victory,’ Luke chuckled, ‘but I’ll let you what, stick with me and you’ll always be on the winning side.’ He promised, squeezing your shoulder as he began to drag you back towards the dinning pavilion.

‘You really want me on your team?’ You said incredulously as though you couldn’t believe what you were hearing before adding. ‘I didn’t really do anything other than defend the flag.’

‘Protecting the flag is a pivotal part of the game,’ Luke began, ‘it wouldn’t be called capture the flag if protecting the primary objective of the game wasn’t top priory for maintaining a single teams victory, whilst also attempting to steal the enemies flag that’s being heavily guarded to death.’ He says and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his ending statement, which made him warm inside from that fact that he had obtained his first small victory in making you chuckle; Luke was staring to slowly understand why you choice to savour the smaller victories in life, it definitely had it’s merits. ‘So to answer your question, yes, I would love to have you on my team. A hundred percent.’ He adds and once again your blinding smile was back on him and in that moment Luke felt as though he had finally won at life.

Now all he wanted was for you to stake claim to his heart because it was already yours and will be yours long after; Being yours would be his life’s greatest achievement.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While Luke fell first, you fell harder for him then you thought you would after capture the flag.

He was the first ever friend you made at camp, which he continued to be even after you moved out of the Hermes cabin after being claimed as the child of Erebus, primordial god of darkness and shadows, so it was only natural that you wanted to take up any given opportunity to spend time with Luke and utilise every second of every minute to the fullest.

Yeah, he was conventionally attractive but that was merely a bonus to the perfect personality he had as camp half-bloods’ golden boy. What really sold you on him was how brotherly he acted towards the younger campers; making sure they were okay, giving them an answer to their every question, going out of his way to make sure they were settling in fine all the while being their resinated tour guide through camp and trying out various different activities to determine who their godly parents were based on what they excelled at.

He tried implementing a sense of normality for them, whether it worked or nor didn’t matter, it was the thought that he tried to remind these younger demi-gods that they were allowed to be human, and not the weapons that they were soon going to unfortunately be trained into. You were aware of Luke’s stance of the Greek pantheon of gods and goddesses and their blatant neglect and mistreatment of their children, only bothering to take notice of them when they could be proven useful to go on menial quests that untimely mean nothing, only to then be discarded soon after like a severely damaged toy; never to be played with again by it’s owner.

It was the inevitable fate of all demi-gods in Luke’s eyes, no valour, no glory, no memoriam, only the fact that a burned burial shroud of your godly parent is all to remember you by because in the end it wasn’t you -the demi-god- who was being remembered; it was the weapon you were moulded into by force for your parent’s honour that would be remembered.

However in the moments where you stood a distance away from the archery range, watching as Luke forced the newest addition to camp into crouching to avoid a rouge arrow that flew over their heads and implied itself deep into the trunk of a tree; it was obvious that the kid should be kept far away from from a bow and arrow for the foreseeable future as archery was defiantly not within his skill set, seeing as he could’ve easily just struck somebody with that stray arrow of his but you couldn’t help but smile at how Luke helped the boy up by his arm, checking him over for injuries while also asking if he was okay.

‘You alright there Damien? You’re not hurt anywhere are you?’ You heard Luke ask the younger lad with chestnut hair and wide doe eyes filled with fright, looking him over one more time to be certain that he was indeed injury free.

‘Y-yeah, I don’t think archery is my thing.’ Damien replied and Luke’s face of worry was soon replaced by a relieved expression, followed by a chuckle in disbelief as he raised a brow at the kid, as he then said ‘you don’t say? Now how about we put that down and go somewhere else before you let loose another route arrow, how does that sound?’ Damien was quick to discard the bow and arrow as though it burned him and went to follow Luke but before you could go back to what it was you were doing before you had gotten distracted, you heard Luke’s voice speak up once again, this time it was closely behind you; ‘Quick detour before we move onto the next activity Damien, there’s someone special I want you to meet first.’

Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt a familiar arm drape across your shoulder and pull you into his side, finding yourself on the receiving end of one of Luke’s pretty smiles that had your insides melting like butter, but all you could do was reciprocate his smile with one of your own, unknown of the affects it had on the son of Hermes; though it was apparently obvious to the young lad standing awkwardly off to the side as he innocently asks. ‘Is this the person you couldn’t stop saying had a smile that could outshine the stars?’ Your eyes almost bugged out of your head at the comment as your heart leapt into your throat, even Luke looked a little taken aback by this kids openness and had to cough into his hand in hopes of hiding his flustered expression.

‘Damien this is y/n, child of Erebus. y/n, this is Damien, our newest addition.’ Luke introduce you to one another, clearly avoiding the question Damien made earlier as though he didn’t hear it, but Damien was obviously a smart kid as he saw through this as one would a glass widow.

‘It’s nice to meet you Damien, I hope Luke hasn’t scared you too badly yet.’ You joked, nudging the aforementioned boy playfully in the side, wanting the boy to feel at ease. ‘Accusations!’ Luke cried, nudging you back, causing you to laugh, making him smile in response. ‘These are false accusations being made to tarnish my name and drag it through the mud out of sheer jealously.’

‘Jealously?’ You replied, brow raised as your arms crossed over your chest. ‘Since when and I’m only looking out for Damien’s best interests at heart, being stuck with you is a fate I wouldn’t wish upon my worst of enemies.’ You continued to jest, another thing that you loved about Luke was the fact that you didn’t have to be overly serious with him, that didn’t mean you weren’t against having deep conversations because you’ve had them before down by the lake, but it was moments like there’s where having a bit of a laugh and a banter with one another was enough to make you temporality forget the reality of your lives and act your age for once; It was considered a distraction but a welcomed one indeed.

‘And yet I didn’t hear you voice any of this when I was showing you camp on your first day now did I?’ Luke replied cheekily as he looked over at Damien with a thumb jabbed in your direction, adding, ‘you hear what I have to deal with all the time Damien. Honestly they’re such a nightmare.’ Damien smiled and you could see the look of pride shine within Luke’s eyes at that, as though proud of himself for easing the tension from Damien’s poor shoulders.

You hope that one day you’d get the opportunity to tell him how you felt, whenever that may be because you honestly didn’t know much longer you could make yourself wait, but until then you were more then willing to play the long game.

[vodika-vibes]

Crosshair as a LOVING partner lives rent-free in my head.

A Loving Man

Summary: Crosshair comes home to you after a long day.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x Reader

Word Count: 1361

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So, I wasn't going to write this until tomorrow. "vodika," I said, "You wrote five stories today, take a break before you hurt yourself". And then I saw this and I needed to write it immediately. So. Here you go.

You hum along with the music as you prepare dinner. This is your favorite time of the day. When the rest of the world starts to slow down and you have time to think, rather than to react to whatever disaster happened to come your way that day.

When you can just relax with whatever meal you decided is on the menu that night. When you can look out the window and see the fireflies flickering to life around the yard, dancing to a tune that only they can hear.

When you know that the love of your life, of any of your lives, will be home at any moment.

And true to your prediction, you hear the front door open only moments later. The familiar sound of the old wooden chair near the front door creaking as he sits down to pull off his boots. The sound of the closet door opening and then squeaking shut as he hangs his jacket. And then light footsteps padding down the hall into the shared bedroom.

He’ll take a quick shower, wash off the strain of the day, and dress in clean relaxing clothes, and then, and only then, will he join you in the kitchen. He hates touching you when he’s covered in a day's work, though he’s no longer a soldier and the worst thing he’ll get on you is motor oil.

You tilt your head to the side as you hear the shower click on. If dinner didn’t require an active participant tonight, you would go and see how he felt about having a shower mate.

Oh well, maybe tomorrow.

You pop a roasted pepper into your mouth, before you focus your attention back to the meat. It’s getting to be the time of year where you can pull the grill out of storage. Only a few more weeks. Maybe you’ll finally talk Crosshair into learning how to cook if it’s something as enjoyable as using the grill.

And then strong arms slide around your waist and you feel a warm kiss against your cheek, “Snacking, kitten?”

“It’s a tragic side effect of being a cook,” You joke as you pick up a piece of pepper and offer it to him.

He eats it from your hand, and hums thoughtfully, “Needs a little something extra,” Crosshair decides.

“Oh? You think so?” You nod to your spice rack, “Pick your poison, Cross.”

He chuckles under his breath, and presses another lingering kiss against your cheek, before he releases you and heads over to the spice rack. “What did you already use?”

“Mm. Garlic and onion powder, paprika-” You list, “How was your day?”

“Uneventful.”

“Well, better that than over-eventful,” You quip with an easy smile, as he returns with salt and pepper. “Look at you, I’ll make a cook out of you yet.” You take the spices from him, though he doesn’t release them.

Instead he leans in and kisses the tip of your nose, “You’re not tricking me into using that death trap you call a grill, nice try though.”

“It’s not a death trap. It’s only blown up, like, twice.”

“Sure, sure. Buy a new grill and we’ll talk about it,” Crosshair finally releases the spices and he turns to set the table.

“Ha! I’ll hold you to that.”

He shoots you a fond look, “I know you will.” He sets the table with the ease of long practice, “Need anything else done before we eat?”

“Hm…” You run through a mental list, “Will you run into the basement and grab a new carton of ice cream, I think someone ate the last of it last night.”

“Oh. Someone did, did they?” Crosshair teases, “Is this someone you, or do we have rats eating our ice cream?”

You press your hand to your heart, “I would never eat the last of the ice cream.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.” he heads towards the basement, “I’ll get you your ice cream, kitten. But you’re going to share this time, right?”

“Oh, yeah. Totally.” You smile at him angelically as he shoots you a look and then he vanishes into the basement.

Crosshair showed up at your clinic 2 years ago. Badly injured, overly cautious, and absolutely terrified, though he did an excellent job at hiding his fear. You knew, just by looking at him, that he was a deserter from the Empire, though you were very careful to not let on that you knew.

It took you six months of patient care to get him to agree to see a therapist, and it took an additional two months after that before he admitted to you that he deserted the Empire…and before that he abandoned his brothers.

Your relationship started not long after that. Though he never mentioned his brothers to you again. And you never pushed, it’s not your place, even now. Crosshair moved in with you six months after you started dating, and now people are starting to wonder when he’s going to pop the question.

You don’t expect him to. You don’t mind either way, you don’t need a legal document to prove what you know, and what he knows.

You hear the basement door open again, and Crosshair reemerges into your home with a carton of ice cream, which he promptly shoves in the freezer. “Thank you, Cross.”

“You’re welcome.”

You beam at him, “Dinner’s done. Bring me your plate.”

“Oh no you don’t,” He directs you to take your seat at the table, “You sit down, I’ll get us food.” He lightly runs his hand over your hair, “It’s not your job to serve me, kitten. We’ve talked about this.”

“I know. I just…I like doing it. I like taking care of you.”

“And I love that about you, but you’ve been on your feet all day, and I know your feet hurt.” Crosshair serves the food, making sure to give you more of the veggies than the meat, and then he sits next to you. 

You smile at him lovingly and tangle your feet with his under the table, and huffs out a laugh, “I love you, Cross.” You say adoringly, mostly because he deserves to know that you love him, but partly because even now his face burns with embarrassment when you say that to him.

“I love you more.” He replies with a slightly ducked head. You don’t mind, a year ago he wouldn’t have even been able to get that much out. So this is a massive step forward.

You decide to have mercy on him and you take a bite of your peppers, and you eat in silence for a time, before Crosshair hesitates and sets his fork down, “Something wrong with the food?”

“No, it’s delicious, as usual.” Crosshair replies, “I…uh…I talked to the Doc today.” You nod, Doc was the only licensed therapist within three hours, and Crosshair has been his patient for over a year now, “He suggests that I reach out to my brothers.”

“Oh.” You set your fork down and fold your hand over his, “Is that what you want to do, Cross?”

He turns his hand over and threads his fingers with yours, “I…don’t know. We…there are some things that can’t be forgiven-”

You nod understandingly, “Do you maybe want to write a letter, and if you decide not to send it, then that’s fine, but it’s there if you want to?”

His shoulders relax, “That’s what Doc suggested. I’d like them to know you, even if they don’t forgive me. They deserve to know the person who encourages me to be better.”

“Well, I’m flattered, Cross.”

He smiles softly, and he reaches out to trail his thumb over your lips, “When I get there, when I’m ready, I intend to ask you to marry me.”

Your lips part in surprise, and then you beam at him, “When you’re ready, Crosshair, then I will be waiting to say yes.”

***********

Three weeks later, on Pabu, Hunter receives a letter from Crosshair. Inside is a simple one page long letter, a picture of you and Crosshair, and an address, if he should want to write back or visit.

[crazerk]

First of all, I LOOVED the demo, living rent-free in my mind rn! I been craving a concubine MC IF for a while. Love the drama. Thank you so much ♡

Also, feel free to ignore if spoilers. You mentioned we can have heirs. Just wanted to know if we would be able to see/raise the children for a good part of the story, or would the optional heirs show up more towards the ending? :)

Hi! I answered this in forum so I’ll just copy and paste. But the TLDR: you will see and can raise (or neglect!) your children and interact with them throughout the story. Some endings are even dependent on the kind of relationship you have with them.

Your heirs if you choose to have them, will be characters in the story, like any other person you encounter.

You can only ever have three children, two boys and a girl. They will all have distinct personalities, your first son will always be outgoing, your second son always be more studious and your daughter will always be loyal to her family, but with a rebellious streak.

Your actions in their childhood can influence them. For example you can play favorites, support one son over the other and cause a dynastic war. Lots of fun side plots and arcs I’m excited to write about.

More details under the cut!

First Son

Looks wise he takes after his father, almost a spitting image of Kaz. He will be a very lively child, spending most of his time outdoors. If there is a thing that can be climbed he’ll climb it. If there is a thing with a sharp edge or a pointy tip, he’ll master it. He has a natural aptitude for all things martial and will be one of the finest warriors in the empire.

He will be popular and charismatic and with many friends and supporters. Everything a good ruler should be on paper. Yet he is eager to please and easily falls under the influence of others. He scoffs at his more serious lessons, only learned how to read because his father forced him too and his tutors find him very lacking in his academics. He has a disturbingly brutal streak as well, and sense of entitlement.

Yet he is the beloved son of the empire. He desperately needs someone to be proud of him at all times and will go out of his way to please you to get that validation. If his lesser virtues are indulged he may become a monster. However with enough persuasion and discipline he’ll grow into a fine man. Right?

Second Son

Almost a complete opposite to his older brother, your second son will take after you more. While he is tall like his dad, he’s painfully slender with elegant, almost delicate features. He will be beautiful, keeping his hair long and his dressing androgynous. When he was a child he caught a chill he never fully seemed to recover from, and is prone to falling sick. He shutters himself indoors, preferring the company of his books to that of anyone else, except maybe you.

There are many cruel whispers about your younger son. (You can decide whether you want to remove tongues and heads over these.) In comparison to his more accomplished older brother, he seems weaker, duller, less of a king, more of a sickly scholar. Your second son doesn’t seem to mind these rumors. He’ll pick afternoon tea with you over practing his swordsmanship or going on hunts. His tutors worship the ground he walks on, calling him the brightest mind they’ve ever seen while his weapons master is less impressed with his performance, claiming he can’t even hold a sword upright.

There are times when he seems content in his place as the younger or the “lesser” brother and that not many expect him to rule over the more impressive, older heir. Yet you can catch a glimpse of ambition in his eyes from time to time. A gleam of ruthless cunning, like a blade hidden behind his haunting beauty and demure countenance. You can of course nurture that gentleness, and remind him that he is strong where his brother is weak. Or you can sharpen that ruthlessness, for who knows when you’ll need a blade?

Only Daughter

Your daughter would be absolutely spoiled from the moment she’s born, and a delight to everyone around her. People will say she’ll be the amongst the greatest beauties the empire has ever produced as she managed to get the best of both you and Kaz. From a young age she’ll be aware of this, and will use it to her advantage.

She’s precarious, exceedingly intelligent and able to pick up on the subtleties of court even as a child. As she grows into a young woman, she can become a powerful player in her own right. Since her father is basically wrapped around her finger, her influence on him is not to be understated. She’d rather watch sword fights than do embroidery and is often sneaking away from the lessons meant to shape her into the perfect, elegant and refined princess to chase more “masculine” pursuits.

Her tutors praise her brilliance but her mistress complain that she’s too hardheaded and petulant to make a good and docile wife and all their lessons are wasted on her. It’s better if she were married off immediately, perhaps having children of her own can temper her wilder impulses. But you know she’ll burn something to the ground if she were forced to do anything of the sort. She can be extremely stubborn, but not cruel or malicious. At least, you don’t think so.

How you treat them will influence their behavior and actions later on in the story! Choosing a favorite, child neglect, or even turning them against each other will all have their consequences!

[goodday-goodmorn]

Rahhhh it’s Christmas and i’m back! Today’s feature (feature? Should i start calling them that? Sounds kinda cool-) is the amazing @charliemwrites, specifically a little drabble (unedited as always), based off of their Keeper/Kept AU. Not thier most recent stuff- (I think it’s Neighbor Johnny or the Woof Woof series-) You know what? Just- Here. Everything they write is gold <3

Anyhow, i present: Domesticity and Devotion

“Oh to be a wild bird…”

You sigh, chin in your palm as you leisurely stare out at the window.

“Or a stray cat.” You muse, watching as one of the kitties of the neighborhood walks along outside.

“Those fuckers have it good. No shitty job. No rent to pay. Just free pets and wandering the world… and if someone’s being a dick they can hiss and bite all they want.”

You hum, reaching for your drink and sipping on it leisurely.

“I don’t think I could survive in the wild though.”

You say after a moment, realizing how you’re cuddled up in your blanket and sipping on your wendy’s lemonade, the TV playing some random comfort show and your laptop open as you halfheartedly play Papa's freezeria.

“Can barley survive in domesticity.” You mumble, glancing towards the envelope on the kitchen counter that you got this morning about a rent increase.

You sigh.

“Maybe in my next life i’ll be lucky enough to be reborn as some rich white ladies cat. Those fuckers are livin’ better than me that’s for sure.”

————

This is not what you meant.

When you wistfully wished to never have to step foot into the capitalist hellscape that was life again- that was not an open invitation for you to be whisked away against your will.

Apparently though, the 6 foot giant of a military man named Simion Riley, heard it as one.

Because now here you were, pampered and cared for like a bloody sugar baby or pure breed persian cat. Kept at some random location and fed and groomed and meticulously attended too.

All against your will, mind you.

However it’s hard to complain because well- you’re living life good. This realization, of just how good you have it- hits you when you feel yourself getting genuinely angry at the shitty romance novel you were reading.

The Male lead was treating the MC like shit- and the MC was letting him get away with it!

You feel your face physically grimace. To calm yourself down (because you are getting genuinely heated when she lets him shove her to the damn floor over asking him for a drink-), you set your i-pad down.

(It had been a gift; something sort of like a kindle, where you could only read books and listen to music. You weren’t sure what Simon did to it exactly- but it wasn’t just published books you had access too, comics, original works, poetry, you could get all sorts of reading stuff on here.)

“This mother fucker-“

You mumble to yourself in disbelief, shaking your head before huffing and picking the device back up. You’re close to cheering as you read the MC’s internal dialogue about wanting to bite his ass- (Truely an MC after your own heart- they were one of the main reasons you were still reading this shitshow-)

And yet, what does the main character do?

They get the drink for themselves and then let him snatch it from their hand and down it.

Nope. You’re fucking done. You’re fumin’ now, irrationally angry on the MC’s behalf because they’ve been putting up with this guy for fifteen chapters now.

The audacity of men- oh my god. You can’t believe this guy.

“Who does he think he is?!”

You grumble and then just for your own purposes you yell—

“Simon!”

Predictably he is at your side in a moment, dropping everything for you.

You have your arms crossed, as you say, “Go get me a drink.”

He tilts his head slightly, eyes crinkled just a tad at your strange mood but doesn’t deny the order. Simply asks,

“Cold or hot?”

“Cold.”

And with that he’s gone, returning with a fresh glass of ice cold lemonade, complete with a little lemon slice on the rim of the glass. You sip it, set it aside and cross your leg, tapping your forehead.

“Give me a kiss.”

He doesn’t hesitate for a moment, gently kissing your forehead.

“Kneel.”

His eyes are crinkled now with a bit of amusement, but he drops to his knees easy. Gently holding onto your soft thighs. (Always so gentle with you.)

“Course, pretty.”

He mumbles low, head tilted up to you in a question, “Need me to take care of you?”

You hum, absentmindedly messing with his hair and ignoring the way the question sends a slow pool of warmth into your tummy.

“No.”

It’s decisive. You’re practically preening with satisfaction at his actions.

“You can go now.” You say and like that, he gets up. Not a complaint on his lips even when you notice he’s got a raging boner.

“Wait!”

You call and he pauses, looking at you with a questioning hum.

“Kiss me again.”

And he does so, this time a soft gentle kiss on your lips. When he pulls away he mumbles an ever softer-

“Dinner will be ready in 10.”

You nod and pick up your tablet with satisfaction curling low in your gut. (For the duration of your reading all you can think about is how Simion would never.)

————

“And another thing-!”

Simion is absentmindedly (as absentmindedly as Simion of all people can get anyway-) rubbing circles into your back as you rant. You’re sat in his lap, coaxed into sitting there after he asked about your day.

So obviously you started to babble about the book you were reading, which turned into a whole rant session about how stupid the Male lead was.

“That stupid idiot- that moron- you wanna know what he does simion?”

He knows it’s a rhetorical question. You’re gonna tell him anyway. Still he hums to show he’s still listening.

“This bastard shoves them into the ground. To the ground! Can you believe the it?”

He shakes his head lightly with a tsk.

“Exactly. God and then when they get the drink he has the audacity to snatch it from their hand and down it in one gulp before they can even say anything.”

You shake your head, so far into your little rant you don’t realize how much you’ve made yourself comfortable. Sitting in his lap fully, ranting to him like he’s an old friend. Your tongue is loose with comfort right now. And that must be what possessed you to say—

“Me personally? I could never. If you ever pulled that shit— God i don’t even know what i’d do but it would not be pretty

You close your eyes with a nod to yourself at your own words. Not aware of the way Simon’s eyes seem to soften. Not until he gently kisses the top of your head.

“Never.”

He says it so quietly you almost miss it. (Feverintly. Reverently. Like the very idea is absurd.)

“If i ever do something like that you run and break into my gun cabinet and bloody shoot me.”

And god his voice- he’s 100 percent fucking serious. Suddenly you feel warm and small in his lap, utterly tiny compared to the sheer size of his devotion for you.

It’s all you can do to mumble out a weak.

“Good.”

And the rest of the night is spent with you reading the rest of the book together. When the MC finally is able to get rid of the Male Lead, it is a joyous occasion that ends up with her absolutely clocking the guy in the face with a champagne glass. Which then leads into a curious conversation with you and ghost about how much damage that would actually do.

It’s a good day.

[roostersgirlfriendlovesf1]

you're losing me | charles leclerc

prompt: charles has been off the past couple of weeks and all y/n wants to do is help him, but what can she do when he won't open up? it's tiring feeling alone, but it's hard to speak up. will charles finally let her in or will it be the end?

warnings: angst and sadness, but it ends up ok lol

a/n: hey guys! this is just a one part story, but i would really love some prompts. please feel free to request anything! i write for bradley bradshaw, lando norris, charles leclerc, mason mount, jake sersein, and christian pulisic. i also love using songs as inspo so pls feel free to use a song as a prompt! thanks for the support!

The past couple of weeks had been a game of if Charles would speak when he got home or not. The endless amounts of sympathy y/n gave him didn’t seem to open him up. She thought that perhaps he would let himself enjoy life over the summer break, but she doesn’t think he has even said four words to her. The past few days he had left early for runs, climbing out of bed and getting back into it without so much as a squeak of a floorboard. Nightly rituals between them had been forgotten.  This was only their third month… She thought. There were so many things left unsaid between them, things that she felt unimportant to tell him. Things she thought could be seen as coming off “too strong.” But she was extremely tired of feeling alone. She missed his arm around her as they watched the Monaco skies, she missed the smell of his hair after he showered, and she just missed the sound of his voice. Her clothes in his drawers dedicated to her started to feel misplaced. She felt like her presence started to feel like an intrusion. She was practically living with him, but it started to feel like she should be paying rent. 

y/n sat on a barstool, waiting for Charles to come back from running whatever errand he hadn’t told her about. Her head was in her hands as she stared lazily out the window, dark clouds were forming. Click. The door opened. She looked at him, urging him to speak. He looked at her, a quick glance before walking into their room. She heard the water start running in the shower. A tight feeling formed in her throat. How can he not see there’s a problem?  She placed her head in her hands and allowed herself to shed a few tears. A few minutes went by before the sound of footsteps interrupted her silence. She picked her head up. “Charlie?” She tries to get his attention. No answer. Nothing new. She’s not sure she even remembers what it sounds like when he says her name. A sigh leaves his mouth.

“Yes?”

“Where are you going?” She asked, just a simple question.

“Out to dinner.” He tied his shoes. 

Please just look at me. Please just see that there is something wrong. A brief moment of silence. “Somethings not working.” She bit her nails.

“I don’t understand.” He shook his head, dismissing her statement.

“I know you don’t.” Her brows furrowed. This can still be fixed. Everything we built can still stand. “Charles, you haven’t said four words to me since you’ve gotten home. Hell, you’ve barely talked to me for weeks. I don’t know what to do!”

“I don’t know what you're talking about.”

“You haven’t even touched me.” The room once filled with light felt cold and empty.

“Didn’t know you needed that validation.” He mumbled. 

“A hug is seen as validation? A fucking hug from someone I haven’t seen or spoken to because he won’t respond whether it’s in person or over the phone!” Just pull me into a hug now, all will be forgotten. Please just hold me. 

“I don’t have time for this right now.” Disappointment. 

“It's now or never. I’ve given you the best I have.” Tell me what to give after that. Her voice caught. She stood, feeling vulnerable in his sweatshirt and his sweatpants. Silence again. Silence that he was not willing to break. “Okay.” She nodded. “I’ll be out of here by the time you get home. I just-” She ran a hand through her hair, “I just need a bit to gather my things.” Guilt panged in her chest, the feeling of being an intruder tearing through her. She held her head high as she walked into their room, grabbing an empty box from beside the trash. 

“Y/n.” He stood in the doorframe. She willed herself to continue packing, despite her longing for his voice. “Y/n.”

“Enough!” She slammed the shirt she had started folding into the box. “Just go to dinner.”

“I didn’t fucking ask you to stay through anything!” He snapped. “I don’t need to see you or feel your embrace every time I come home from a shitty race weekend.”

“Good because it's never happening again! You won’t ever have to see me again after tonight.” The sound of thunder caused her to flinch. Charles’ face softened as he glanced out the window. 

“You can’t leave tonight.” He shook his head.

“I’ll do whatever I want.” She seethed. She kept her head down, making no eye contact. “You’ll do whatever you want tomorrow when the storm clears.” He stated. Y/n held her breath until she felt his presence dissolve. The sound of his footsteps led her to believe he went to his sim room. She shut the door quietly before breaking down. Her face felt burning hot as she rapidly shoved clothes into a random backpack. She frantically tried to collect herself before stepping back into the living room. She held a box in her arms as she struggled to open the apartment door. Rain poured as she sheltered under the overhang of the building. Her heart pounded, all she wanted to do was get out of his way. Y/n made a run for her car and quickly opened the trunk, shoving the box inside before slamming it closed and heading back inside. The lighting of the apartment was dark as the natural lighting was miniscule. Charles had moved to the couch, a solemn look in his eyes as he scrolled on his phone. He glanced up to see y/n drenched in rain. “Mon coeur…” He watched her as she ignored him and kept walking back to their room. He followed her, attempting to talk, but was quickly denied as she reached their bathroom and quickly locked the door. 

Y/n peeled off the wet clothes and glanced at herself in the mirror. A quick rush of feeling came back to her as she let out a sob, steadying herself on the sink counter. The coldness of the rain washed off of her as she bathed in the warmth of the shower, although the tears never ceased to flow. How does she pick up her life after this? The relationship was so public, that doesn’t just fizzle out. 

She walked into the bedroom, towel wrapped around her. Charles was sitting at the foot of the bed, feet planted, head in hands. She quietly grabbed her undergarments, a shirt, and a pair of sleep shorts from the bag she had packed earlier and retreated back into the bathroom. She never did that. Charles thought. She never hid herself away instead of doing something so intimate as changing her clothes in front of him. She changed in the bathroom and washed her face. Y/n opened the bathroom door slowly and noticed Charles in the same position. “I’m so embarrassed.” He spoke. 

“Now you talk…” She whispered. 

“I’m so fucking emberassed with myself I can’t stand it.” He held the end of the sleeves of his sweater in his hands. “I know I don’t deserve you and I know I’ve treated you horribly. There’s no excuse.” He kept his composure. “My team is just so-so aggravating and for a while I viewed you as my escape from all that, but the more interested in me you got and the more you wanted to know the more I grew embarrassed. I’m embarrassed with my performance in the car and I’m embarrassed for you to see that I’m undeserving of you. I never wanted to tear you down with me though.”

Her mouth opened to speak, but her body moved first. She sat down next to him and pulled him into a hug. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“Me too.” She kissed the side of his face.

“I love you.” He brushed the wet hair off of her face. “And I really don’t want you to leave.”

[pixelatedraindrops]

Happy 1st Anniversary RainCode!

☔️6🔎30👻

Thank you for bringing me so much joy 💜💕

(and thank you for giving me the gift that is yuma kokohead)

I didn’t think I’d make art for it at first, but I figured this game has done so much for me, so I’ll give back by drawing the duo that started it all 💜🩷 These two are such an iconic pair and I will draw them together as much as possible c: (tho Shinigami will be mostly in her ghost form if I do)

First time drawing human form Shinigami non-chibi, and I admit she was a little tricky with that outfit. But I think I did it decently enough… xD

little bonus for the kokogami enjoyers 💕

miss death god is too much woman for this little boy to handle~ 🤭

i know he's an adult but can you honestly look at him without context and say this is a man??? he's just an eemey meemey little guy.

Personal Rambling below (because I love this game so much)

WARNING MINI ESSAY INCOMING (lmao)

Oh RainCode... Where do I even begin...

RainCode is a game that has changed my life along with likely many other people’s lives. Although the premise of it is fairly straightforward, the characters and atmosphere make this game so much more. The successor to Danganropa is honestly its own unique story and structure, and tbh I think I love and enjoy it far more than Danganronpa. But this game…is just so much more for me.

I truly never expected this game to be such an impact on my life, let alone become my next fixation.

So, for history, I was honestly in no real hurry to get the game on its release date last year, so I got it a day later. On July 1st, I played the game for the first time. And I didn’t think much of it at first. The only thing that was on my mind when I started this game, was that I was positive I was going to be treating the protagonist like Makoto Naegi and Kyoko Kirigiri’s son the whole time.

This was the first post I made about RainCode back on twitter in 2023.

Yeah... Kinda silly when I look at it now... XD But I do still beleive this headcanon.

When I started the game my 2016 fixation of Danganronpa came back a bit. As a previous DR lover, I did make comparisons here and there to all of the characters. Yuma was very much like Naegi with his shy and timid demeanor at first due to having amnesia, and it felt like déjà vu when playing through the start of the game. But then it happened. The moment that solidified Yuma as my next and now permanent target. When he got sick/dizzy on the train... God that moment still lives rent free in my head. (I know the cause of it was different/related to the first mystery/case, but as someone who enjoys any sort of sick whump moment, regardless of if its little crumbs or a whole-ass meal it still counted for me) I was still shy and hid in the shadows with my silly little niche back then, but I told myself. Yep, once I finish this game, I’m writing a sickfic for this game and he’s the victim. (though what surprised me was that I wasn’t alone on that, 3 other people made sickfics with yuma before I did so that was a pleasant surprise xD)

As the game went on it shocked and impressed me in many different forms. I realized that this game isn’t the Danganronpa clone I thought it would be. Sure, it had a lot of similar elements and mirrored mini games like Hangman’s Gambit, Spot Selection, and of course the Conclusion Comic of the whole case, but the story the world and the mysteries were honestly different from the way DR structured them. And it pleased me when not many people from the main team had died. Most of the deaths were of side characters that had appeared in their respective chapters. Which honestly was a breath of fresh air for me, and I think that’s the real reason it’s separate from DR. It’s not as cruel and not as stressful. It’s a lot more chill, but the mysteries were still enough to get me excited and look forward to the next maze I would enter. The mystery labyrinths were probably my favorites elements of the game. They were just so much fun. And every single character was so likeable, (yes even some of the peacekeepers were fun aside of one or two that I absolutely despise. mostly yomi and guillame lol but I guess I kinda like yomi a bit more bc of the fandom)

And I grew to love Yuma EVEN more. He is honestly one of the best written protagonists I’ve seen in a long time. It’s hard to do timid protagonists right, but RainCode definitely nailed it with Yuma. He had his moments, but it wasn’t enough to be obnoxious. He also shined in more ways than one. And my god, so many relatable moments… (I have anxiety too xD) He was so charming and cute the whole time and even had his badass moments. This little guy is the whole package and I LOVE him for that. Truly a unique and fun main character that blows every DR protagonist out of the water.

(Yes, I said what I said.)

And the ending, GOOD LORD THE ENDING?? It was so well executed, and the ending twist villain was immediately my second favorite character after the protagonist. I could go on about how much I loved the ending but if I did, we’d be here all day and I don’t want to spoil the entire game…so… I’ll leave it at that.

When I finished the game, I was so satisfied. (Yes I love it more than DR, what are you gonna do about it?) It left me super happy and made me want to make some fan content for it. Though I was still very quiet on twitter and had a feeling since twitter is a more complicated platform, I couldn’t gush about the game too much due to fear of spoiling other people…and when one of your favorite characters is just the whole secret of the game’s core mystery, I couldn’t talk about it too much… >.>

So, then I did the unthinkable. I went back to tumblr… It’s a little embarrassing but this account is actually my old one I had from years ago. I was on tumblr more 2013 to 2017 before I abandoned the site when it no longer seemed fun and there were times that I’d rather forget... (let’s just say that I used to RP with my OCs and…one of my RP ex friends catfished me and it made me feel VERY uncomfortable. I wanted to forget it, so I ran away and never returned.) I was super nervous to come back and try to post again, so my first RC related post was about him being a naegiri child.

After that I began making more edits once I gained access to the sprites and full body arts. I made some Pokémon AU edits because those were always fun, and then I started making feverish edits of Yuma’s sprites. My first post ended up becoming a hit and I caught the attention of some people. They liked what I was doing so it gave me a bit of confidence to continue. I got even more attention, and it made my confidence go up even more.

And then I started trying to draw art again, something I gave up long ago. My first few arts were a little rocky at best, but so many people enjoyed it! One of my older arts ended up becoming pretty popular. Through this my few pieces of art, my many sprite edits, and my first fan fiction (Home Is Where The Heart Is) got me pretty well recognized in the Rain code community on here. So much so that I felt confident enough to give myself a title. The CEO of RainCode Whump or “Whumpcode” and all of this confidence made me decide to turn my blog into a fandom and sick whump blog. It became a full blown obsession that possessed my mind that I've become TOO passionate about. Never thought making these little guys suffer would bring me this much joy... XD

Over time, I’ve drawn more art and written more fics than I ever had for a fandom. Before I never ever made fandom art, and I would usually only write one sickfic per fixation. (my last ones being demon slayer and spy x family) But here I am, making more art pieces than I ever have before (hell even doing a MONTH ART CHALLENGE) and improving even! And having 7 fanfictions of RainCode, 6 with Yuma and one with Makoto. And those two became my prime targets and muses for my art. Drawing them is easier for me and they’re my favorites so it brings me such joy to draw them. I love MakoYuma so much. Maybe not so much romantically, but friendship and familial. They have such potential to be so much, and I adore them. Plus putting them in sicknarios and situations is fun (I think we can all agree on that haha)

I think I’m talking too much, so I will say one more thing. I never thought my fixation on this game would last this long. I was positive it would go away after just a few months at best. The game is great but nothing amazing to keep thinking about for too long for me. But I think the main reason I was able to keep my fixation on this game for almost a year (and ongoing) is because of the fandom. (specifically, the Tumblr fandom, but some people on twitter are cool too) I’m honestly so happy I returned to tumblr and was able to make a name for myself in this community. I have met so many talented artists and creators and even made some new friends (and even got a few apprentices to take under my wing) If it weren’t for everyone’s support, I don’t think I would have ever done this much and made it this far.

I’ve essentially made a platform for myself, and I didn’t think tumblr would be a place I’d check daily ever again. To think this silly little game…would change my life so much and make me happier than I’ve ever been in such a long time. I feel recognized and like I belong, I’m finally able to be loud and proud about my passions for sick whump and not worry too much about it, I’ve finally found my prime target and I have fun with him every time, I’ve gotten back into the arts of drawing and writing again and I think I’ve made some of my best work yet, and I’ve met so many wonderful people and even collaborated with them on some fun projects too! (Here's the most popular one and also the first one I did!)  It’s just been…so wonderful… I am so happy to be part of such a chill talented and fantastic community TwT So thank you everyone… this is all thanks to your support… <3

Sorry I’m getting a little mushy here aren’t I… x’D I just couldn’t be more grateful for this game if I tried… So, thank you so much Rain Code, for existing and doing so much for me and making me so happy… I have never had this much fun in a fixation before, and I never felt like I was ever truly part of any fandom and was always just a lurker. It feels so good to finally feel like part of a fandom you love, and also be well liked, admired and accepted by others despite your niche being a little on the odd side… XD

I really hope there will be a sequel for this game, and we’ll see all these wonderful characters again. After all I’ve been through with this title and how much joy and purpose it brought me, consider me a fan for life. I will be dedicated to every future title in this series and play the hell out of it. And I hope it gains a wider audience come October when it is released for more consoles. (Just hoping no weirdos take over and ruin it with stupid drama and horrible things like the DR fandom…)

Though once new fans come in and are also tumblr users…I wonder what they’d even think of me and my place and takes when it comes to this series… XD (hopefully they’ll be nice to me… XD)

Anyway, I’ve said enough.

Happy Anniversary RainCode!!

☔💜👻🔍

[noob-with-a-shitty-computer]

Secret Romantic (Grell Sutcliff x gn!artist!Reader)

A/N: I’m still pretty new to black butler but this woman has been living in my head rent-free for the past few weeks, which fortunately has given me a bit of inspiration to write a fic :> hope u like it and i hope it isn’t too ooc.

Summary: You were not really known to be a hopeless romantic, unlike your flamboyant companion. However, she wasn’t expecting to see a different side of you on the night you dropped your sketchbook nearby…

In the midst of another work-filled night, you quickly flipped through the to-die list one last time. “I think that’s about everyone tonight.” You let out a sigh of relief in unison with the red reaper in front of you, “What a night. I’m so glad that Phantomhive got this case closed rather quickly.” A bit of awkward silence passed until you heard a few quiet giggles, which made you turn to your friend who’s green irises were swinging left and right to each picture she had in her hands.

“Grell, are you listening?!” You raised your voice enough for her to let out a yelp as if she was a frightened puppy. “‘Bassy’ caught your eye again?” You scoff. “Come on, can you blame me? He was ever so graceful, how could I not take a photo or fourty~? Especially when he was wearing that ridiculously handsome suit~!” She dreamily sighs and you do nothing but roll your eyes. You never liked demons, always thought they were a hassle to deal with. It didn’t make it any better that a certain demon butler just so happened to steal the doting heart of the woman who stole yours.

“Well, I’ll head off now so you can have your little fun, I suppose. See you at work, my lady.” You greeted nonchalantly as you quickly jumped out of the scene using your reaper agility. Before Grell could glue her eyes back to the photos, she heard a thud nearby, finding a familiar book on the stone ground. It was the sketchbook you always brought around during work to draw on whenever you had a bit of time on your hands. She remembered the times you refused to show her your artworks, hiding the pages against your chest as a faint but cute blush creeped onto your cheeks.

It seemed that curiosity killed the cat (much to Sebastian’s dismay) as Grell approached the sketchbook with a smirk, letting go of her precious photos for the time being…

“Let’s see what you’ve been hiding from me, darling.” She mutters to herself as she slowly flips through the sketchbook, admiring every image. There’s a sketch of the town you recently visited in the view from a tall building, doodles of a couple of dresses you saw from a store window, and other random things. You were quite talented, she thought, curious if you happened to have a doodle of dear Bassy as well~ It only took a couple minutes until she flipped through a page that caught her off guard.

Several doodles of the red reaper herself were presented to her, some smiling, some frowning, some drawings ended down to her head or bust and there were a couple of full body drawings as well. She flipped through more pages and found herself again. There was one drawing where she was wearing a beautiful dress and another where she and you dancing together, she was wearing the same dress while you wore your own outfit with a similar design. It was like an illustration from a fairytale book, the you in the sketch revealed a big smile that your colleagues don’t often see on you in real life.

The next page had sketches of her in other fancy outfits, the page after that had sketches of her doing her signature pose, the page after that was a drawing of you and her, hand in hand and looking at each other fondly while the moonlight illuminated your figures. She didn’t realize you were so observant over her. It was a bit unsettling, but it also felt endearing to her that you put in so much effort into capturing her beauty on paper. Her mind was filled with different thoughts, the memories of you and her training, laughing, smiling and spending time together all those years ago up till now. She couldn’t deny that it made her heart flutter.

Meanwhile, you were panicking in your room trying to find that lost sketchbook, worried that Grell had caught it first. You dejectedly rushed to your door only to find said reaper in front of your doorstep, causing you to stumble backwards. “Gah! G-Grell, what are y-you doing here..?” Your heart was pounding as you looked over to her hand which was holding very thing you were looking for over the past several minutes. Grell chuckled a bit as she handed it back to you. “Darling, I never thought you felt this way about me~” She stepped closer with a smile.

“I-I’m sorry, I can explain-“ “No, I’m sorry for pulling on your heartstrings like that, my dear.” Grell’s eyes softened as she apologized. “The drawings are gorgeous as well. I didn’t know you were such a romantic~!” She smirked and you huff your cheeks, “I guess you just rubbed off on me, my lady.”

“No worries, it’s cute.” Her smile grew as she watched your cheeks flush and eyes widen. “Aww, look at your cheeks! They’re covered in such an adorable shade of red~” She failed to supress a cheeky giggle. “Stop teasing me!” You quickly protest before she held out a hand to you.

“Heh, well I must admit, you were always dear to me, darling. I guess I was too occupied with my own obsessions to realize it sooner… But since you seem to be interested in a dance, may I take your hand tonight~?” She stated flirtatiously, causing your cheeks to grow hotter. You were a lot less experienced in the world of love compared to the reaper in front of you, causing you to hesitate taking her offer…

But then again, who are you to refuse a lovely lady such as Grell Sutcliff~?

A/N: i need sleep. why must motivation show up during midnight T_T anyways hope u like it :P

[scarlettriot]

Okay, listen, I don’t need annnyone telling me how half baked an idea this is but it’s living rent fucking free in my head right now so I’m throwing it in a post (as opposed to in @twisteddaydreams1135 DMs like I have been).

A/B/O stuff. Alpha Kiri and Beta Reader. I write Beta’s a little differently so if you end up not liking it, it is what it is.

No real warnings here. It’s a lot of fluff and comfort honestly.

A Drabble that ended up being about 2K words… my bad.

No editing or proofing. Again, my bad.

Alpha Pro Hero Red Riot who co-owns and agency with Dynamight. Red Riot who’s in his 30s and not married or even mated. He works himself into the dirt because it keeps his mind occupied. Handles everyone’s paperwork. Picks up all the extra shifts at the office. His friends and coworkers can’t remember the last time he took a vacation, if ever!

But, Kirishima never complains. His pack his happy and he claims that makes him happy. But, the pack is getting worried. The dark circles under his once bright eyes never seem to go away. He only redyes his hair when Bakugou reminds him. He’s barely around for pack dinners and if he is home when they’re happening he usually just takes a plate with thanks and what he thinks is a genuine smile and goes to his apartment. He was still a phenomenal leader. So caring with that big heart of his. In fact, it seemed Kirishima cared about everyone around him far more than he ever cared for himself.

So, the pack came up with a plan, you.

You were new to the city, looking for work with your resume being passed around and Mina got her hands on it. A Personal Assistant could be exactly what big guy needed.

She brought your resume to Bakugou who agreed you seemed like a good fit with strong references and skills to match. And, you were a Beta. There’d be no chance your scent would bother Kirishima and both Mina and Bakugou agreed that was a good thing.

So, you started an hour before he did on a sunny Monday morning. In a small office right next to Red Riots. He came in with his protein drink and did a double take. They hired someone new? Since when? Last he checked him and Bakugou approved all hires together.

“Who the heck is she, do we even have room in the budget for a new hire?” He asked his friend after closing his office door.

“Made room in the budget for her. Her name is Y/N and she’s your new personal assistant.”

He made room because everyone took a small pay cut. Which they all agreed was worth it if it gets Kirishima to take a break and fucking relax for once.

“I don’t need a personal assistant. No one else has one!”

“Because everyone else can manage their time just fuckin’ fine. You can’t. You haven’t for almost a damn decade now. Not since—”

“Don’t.” Kirishima rumbled. “I know what you’re gonna say and just don’t. I’ll try and work with her but I make no promises.”

Bakugou knew that was the best outcome he could ask for right now so he didn’t fight him on it. Just nodded as Kirishima left his office and watched as he walked into yours.

Your new boss was nice. He lived up to everything you heard about him aside from a few things:

Kirishima wasn’t a fan of interviews. He would do them but he always looked incredibly worn down when he returned from one.

Kirishima had to be reminded to dye that red mane of his. You scheduled time for that.

And perhaps the biggest thing you learned about the man;

Kirishima HATED down time. You scheduled breaks in his day per his friends requests and either he flat out ignored them or he was in your office bothering you the entire time. Even on his days off he found reasons to be in the office. His newest was bringing you lunch.

You didn’t mind these little visits. In fact, you kinda liked the big guy showing up in your door way. He was a change of pace from some of the other Alpha’s you’ve worked with. And, not that you’d ever admit to crushing on your boss to anyone else, you could at least admit to yourself that you liked having him around.

Still, you had to remind him that this was his day off and he shouldn’t be at work.

“I’ll take a break when you take a break. After all, you are my personal assistant. If you’re working, I should be too.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works, Red.”

He shrugs those wide shoulders. “It is if I say it is.”

You just rolled your eyes at him and reminded him again that there’s still things you need to work on when he’s out of office. Just like how you keep working when he goes on patrol. But, he waved his hand and changed the subject as usual.

Despite feeling like he definitely didn’t need someone managing his schedule, Kirishima actually really liked having you around.

You were easy to talk to, you didn’t seem to judge him, and he knew you were doing what you could to keep his best interests in mind even if he wasn’t.

He wouldn’t dare admit it out loud or to anyone but he knew deep down he had a hint of a crush on you. It started when he watched you storm up to Denki and push a paper against his chest. “Kirishima is not handling your strawberry milk requests anymore, I’ve told you this. If you want special snacks so much, put the order in yourself.”

He knew his friend only did it to get a rise out of you. And it worked every time. It was cute to see the way you cared about him even if it was just from a professional stand point.

When he had free time in the weeks that followed he found himself fond of hanging around you. You were a Beta but whatever perfume you had on was pleasant and he could feel the worries he carried around with him for years ebb away when you were near.

That’s why even on his days off he sought you out.

He’d sit at the little table in your office and you asked him about his interest and found some common ground between the both of you. Things to talk about and fill the quiet time. It wasn’t in the job description but he was thankful for it nonetheless.

After reminding him yet again he wasn’t supposed to be in the office on his days off you asked him wouldn’t he rather be doing something different instead? Something more fun?

“The things I enjoyed doing aren’t really fun alone. I go for my runs and workouts and that’s about it.”

“You have plenty of friends, Red! And you’re still one of the most eligible Pro Hero bachelors, I get like 10 emails a day asking if you would agree to a date with people if you’re looking for something more romantic. You don’t have to be alone!”

“My friends have families that they spend time with on their days off, just as they should. They don’t need to go spending time with me. And I’m not looking for romantic right now.” or possibly ever again, he thought.

“Alright, so, what are you gonna do on your next day off?”

“Probably this!” He grinned all proud of himself.

But you had a grin of your own. “Might be a little difficult since I listened to what you said: how I should take time off when you do.”

“Oh…” Even though he tried he couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice. “That’s good though! You should take more time off.”

“Yeah…” You pushed some food around your plate for a moment and then he heard a little sigh before you spoke. “On my days off I like going to this little book shop I found.” You described the area and he knew exactly where it was. “It’s got a little café inside. I’ll probably go around 11 and be there for a few hours, if you wanted to meet me.”

He hadn’t agreed to plans so quickly in he could remember how long!

On his day off Kirishima was up bright and early, went for a run, came back and showered, changed into jeans and a nicer shirt.

“Where the hell are you goin’?” Bakugou asked, just as stunned to see the man looking so chipper and up and moving on his day off rather than secluding himself in his room.

“I’ve got plans! See ya later!” He called and headed to the bookstore without realizing he had two nosy friends following him. One blonde. And the other pink.

They watched him from across the street and saw him walk up to you with a grin like they hadn’t seen on his face in so very long and they knew hiring you was the best decision they could’ve made.

The two went home, not wanting to interrupt the plans, and left you two to the outing.

Kirishima stood beside you in line while you two talked about the different options the cafe had. You told him what items where your favorite and what you thought he might like.

It was while you waited off to the side for your number to be called that he said something that caught you off guard. “The perfume you wear, it’s nice.”

While the compliment was appreciated and made your cheeks a little warmer you looked up at him confused. “Thanks but I don’t wear perfume.”

Now he looked confused. “But, I smell it all the time. Have for weeks now.” Your eyes went wide as he tried his best to describe it. It wasn’t your shampoo or body wash, not even the lotion you wear from time to time.

You knew Alpha’s had good noses but you weren’t expecting this. “Kirishima, that’s not something I wear. That’s my scent.”