#tysm for the prompt!!!

[nonpanary]

art suggestion: a bg3 of your choosing with the vibe “i just love when women”

I just LOVE when women and Karlach is the woman ever!!!!

[wren-of-the-woods]

Maybe 10 or 23 of the casual affection prompts? Geraskefer or whomever tickles your fancy!

10: placing their chin on the other's shoulder 23: brushing strands of hair away

I went with both! Here's 1k of Geraskefer softness. On AO3 here!

The forest around their little camp, Jaskier thought as he bickered happily with Yennefer, was very green. 

The late afternoon sky was overcast, gentling the light as it fell on the woods beneath. A thicket of ferns and vines surrounded them, speckled with white flowers. Buttercups grew scattered on the ground. The huge leaves of what might have been some sort of maple seemed to float above them, almost glowing green in the soft light. Above them soared conifers larger and taller than any Jaskier had ever seen.

They had found a small area that was more or less clear of bracken, where they made a fire and pitched the tent Jaskier had insisted they buy. On one edge of the clearing was the base of a fallen tree, the now-vertical roots of which created a little wall to shelter them from the wind. On the other was a tiny stream. Jaskier and Yennefer sat in the hollow created when the tree’s roots were ripped out of the ground, Jaskier leaning back against a large root while Yennefer tended the fire. 

It was gorgeous. Their surroundings had, admittedly, been lovely for much of their day’s travel, but this was their first real opportunity to slow down and enjoy it. 

As such, Jaskier was absolutely not surprised to find that Geralt was drawing. 

It had taken many long years of observation, persuasion, and stealthy gifts of art supplies for Jaskier and Yennefer to get Geralt to do something about his long-held love for art. Geralt had, as far as they could make out, always loved to observe nature and to draw, but he had so deeply internalized nonsense about witchers not being allowed to indulge that for many years the only art he allowed himself was what could be explained away as notes on monsters. It was only when Jaskier caught a glimpse of his bestiary and saw skilfully drawn illustrations of monsters and plants adorning the pages that he realized just how much passion Geralt was hiding. 

Jaskier had tried for years to bring Geralt’s hidden skill into the open, but ultimately it was only with Yennefer’s help that he succeeded. Now, bolstered by the support of both his lovers, Geralt drew more than Jaskier had ever seen. He was truly good, able to capture the essence of a place or a creature with just a few strokes of a pencil. Jaskier could not help but feel a mixture of fondness and pride every time he saw Geralt at work. 

Geralt always enjoyed having new subjects to depict, so neither Jaskier nor Yennefer bothered him when he sat on a small log and became absorbed in his notebook the moment they made camp. Soon, however, the late afternoon faded into evening. The gentle light began to grow dim. Jaskier started to think about preparing dinner. Geralt had hardly looked away from his work in over an hour. 

Jaskier looked at Yennefer. Yennefer looked at Jaskier. Silently, they reached an agreement: an intervention was in order.

Dropping the thread of their casual argument easily, Yennefer got to her feet. Geralt blinked up at her as she made her way over to the log on which he sat.

“Hey, you,” she murmured, crouching down in front of him. 

His hair fell in front of his face as he looked up and tilted his head at her, and she gently brushed it back behind his ear. He smiled softly at the gesture. The two of them looked tender and almost painfully beautiful, framed by the ferns. Jaskier let out a happy sigh before smiling and standing to join them. 

“What are you drawing?” he asked as he drew near. “Can I see?”

“I— hmm,” said Geralt. “It’s not very good.”

“I highly doubt that you’re capable of creating anything remotely mediocre, dear heart. You care too much.”

“Hmm,” said Geralt again. It was not precisely an agreement, but it was not a refusal. 

Moving slowly so as to give Geralt plenty of time to shift away or close his sketchbook — as much as he wanted to look and encourage Geralt in his art, Jaskier was loathe to cross a boundary if Geralt truly did not want them to see — Jaskier approached. Geralt frowned up at him but did not move away. 

Jaskier settled on his knees behind Geralt, giving Yennefer a small smile. He leaned forward to put his chin on Geralt’s shoulder. He looked down at the sketchbook, and his breath caught in his throat. 

Geralt had not drawn the trees. He had not drawn the stream. They were merely a backdrop. There, on the page, rendered lovingly in black charcoal, were Jaskier and Yennefer. 

Yennefer was smirking, her eyes sparkling as she glared playfully at Jaskier. Jaskier’s grin was wide and bright. The scene was depicted so tenderly, the drawing so obviously full of love, that Jaskier felt tears come to his eyes. 

Yennefer must have noticed his reaction, because she leaned over for a look of her own. She gasped. 

Geralt glanced nervously at Yennefer and reached back to put a hand on Jaskier’s knee. Jaskier covered it with his own. 

“It isn’t quite right,” said Geralt softly, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “I can’t… I’m not as clever with words as you, Yen, and I can’t put what I feel into a song like Jaskier. But I thought, maybe, I could put some of what I feel in this.” 

Geralt sighed. Jaskier could tell he was about to say something self-deprecating, so he shifted further forward to wrap his arms around Geralt from behind, squeezing hard. 

“I… it’s beautiful. I don’t even know what to say. You’ve made me speechless, Geralt. Me.”

Geralt huffed a small laugh at that. Yennefer leaned forward, careful of the sketchbook, and took his face in her hands. 

“I’ve had portraits drawn of me before,” she said, “But none… none were like this. I’ve never seen myself on paper like this before.” She swallowed. “Thank you.”

Geralt let out a shaking breath. “Thank you. For showing me I can do this. I can be this.”

“I love you,” said Jaskier, unable to hold it back. “We love you. So damn much.”

“I love you, too,” Geralt whispered. 

Yennefer carefully picked up the sketchbook and charcoals and set them aside, then pulled Geralt towards her into a kiss. Jaskier, his chin still resting on Geralt’s shoulder, watched them with a soft smile. When they eventually pulled apart, Geralt took his hand and used it to draw Jaskier in front of him for his own kiss. 

The fire crackled. The breeze rustled gently in the trees above them. Somewhere in the distance, a warbler sang. Jaskier could hardly stop smiling.

The three of them stayed there, embracing in the ferns, for a very long time.

[jaggedpeak]

Can you do... Jayfeather with 8 perhaps?

+ bonus because this one doesn't have lyrics

[nemesyaaa]

buffalo 66' au ! old!serial killer!rafe x young!sugardoll!reader (how they met, and their first night together.)

you were red and you liked me 'cause i was blue. but you touched me and suddenly i was a lilac sky.

warnings : lmfaooo this part always killing me but here it is....rafe being 90% of the warning part and the menace he already is, kidnapping, daddy issues, urge of sexualing your own self, slight of stockholm syndrome, dubcon, smut, dark!rafe, violence, mentions of threats, r being a missing girl, age gap, size difference, choking. rafe being mean to the reader. slight of daddy kink. sick attitude. dirty talk. attention whore. just minors DNI. (why it's bigger than my grocery list actually...). please carefully pay attention to the tags !!?

author's note : it's my first time writing a dark fic so don't expect too much 🙏🏿 you can read this without watching buffalo 66.

some girls were the trailer park princess, and others the queen of the gas station.

as the girl of the gas station, you were there all day on the road of these men much older than you, who had and drove pretty vintage cars who were literally bigger than you. those rich daddies surely had more money than your poor father who was always sitting behind the desk of his shop waiting for the night.

your father never gave you any attention, not even a look, he didn't care about what you did on your summer days as long as he never saw you. so you stayed all day at your playground queendom across from the pitiful, filthy motel where you lived. because here at least the men were looking at you.

of course they were looking at you, you always gave them something to look at with your tiny dresses that showed your naked thighs, your tits pressed together in that backless top. you always dressed in that soft and milky blue shades. as the sea and the sky, you were blue.

while their wives found you sick, you could feel their stares every time you leaned down to grab the keys that they forgot to give you each time. you could feel their eyes completely charmed by the way your summer dress rode up above your ass, and your panties stuck out.

fully bent over, you could hear the groans of these old men, the way they forced their hands themselves to not touch you when you wanted nothing more than to see them give in to the young temptation that you were.

you had a power in them and you loved to see them completely crazy.

you worked as a gas pump attendant. in reality, you did it behind your father's back because it allowed you to stay in the company of these men who only had eyes for you.

you always put on a show for them, and it always worked because you were irresistible.

but there was this guy every time, a regular customer, cold and short-spoken who never spoke to you.

he had a beautiful and luxurious car and you always wondered what job he did to drive such an incredible vehicle, and to spoil you so much with all this money.

he never said thank you for your service. after all, you were paid for it. his eyes were blue as you. he could park and glare at you for hours, sitting deep in his seat, a cigarette stuck between his opened lips.

he was so much older than you, so much to the point it was indecent. when you had first seen him, you had melted like sugar.

as you were coming back from the ice cream parlor, your lips sucking that delicious vanilla ice cream, you sat on the edge of the gas station, right in front of his car, your legs completely spread, white cream melting and dripping between your thighs. he rubbed his painful boner through his boxer.

you were sick, you let him look at you with this completely perverted stare while you let chunks of ice fall into your cleavage.

his eyes were all over you, but this time it was different, because this time it was him who was thinking about you while touching himself. this time it was him who was sick about you , him who had all these furious ideas about you. he pumped himself so hard, biting his lips harshly. and you continued your depraved show, while he jerked off, his big cock shaked and leaked in his own hand, his thick and already experimented fingers moved around his length faster and faster, the sweaty and dirty sound of his balls slapping, the squeaking noises of his chair, his arched back making the chair shaking. you thought of the veins of his dick engorged of blood pulsated against his hefty strength. that was enough to make you fully wet.

you wanted nothing more than to make this old man reach for you. but the problem was, you were too young and naive to know how mad he was, and what he really wanted to do with a pretty doll like you.

you stood up when you finished your ice cream, putting your dress back on neatly, and leaned down, leaning your porcelain princess arms over his car window.

you shuddered when he spread his cum on your face without any warning, smeared the remains of vanilla ice cream over your sloppy lips gloss with lick of drool.

he pushed his big thumb against your little mouth, pushed it into an o shape, and you closed her to start licking up the drops of his cum.

but like every time he came here, he never spoke to you. you had just seen the car leave, while you still had the taste of him on your lips. it was rude.

the next day, your father sent you out to do some groceries on a sweltering hot summer day, tired of seeing you around doing nothing. what he didn’t know was that this was probably the last time he saw you. and even shoupe that you had seen earlier in the morning, and who had told you to be careful, something with a killer around.

when you were done with the grocery, you started walking through the empty parking lot.

you thought you were alone, even though there were a few empty cars.

but it was a mistake, a terrible mistake that you were going to regret.

“didn't shoupe tell you to be careful this morning, sweetheart ? because i'm pretty sure, he did. ”

you screamed when the man grabbed you by the waist, pressing your little ragdoll body against his chest much stronger. the stranger quickly covered your mouth, and bruised your pretty lips with violence without any caring, shoved down his fingers between them to the point that you almost choked with your own breath and saliva.

“ you hurt..me…! ” you tried to say with a lot of difficulty, as his firm grip crushed against your breasts.

“ not yet actually, doll. but i promise, i will if you continue to fight. so beware, or i will fucking kill you. not a threat, sweetheart. it's a promise. “ and you knew that even god couldn't save you at this time.

you tried to bite him, but your teeth barely touched his skin. his lips hovered above your ear, you could hear his deep older voice warned you.

" bite me one more time, and i will break you. i love wrestle with you little girl, but i think you will really hate the way i fight. because when daddy fight sugardoll, he kills. and tiny things like you are so easy to wreck. and you dont want to die today, right ? you're too young for that. do you got it ? nod if you got it, yes. smart baby, understand easily that she needs to listen and not fucking run away. ”

his strength was heavy. you had stopped resisting a few minutes ago, even when he put you in his car.

he started driving, with a smirk, he looked in the rearview mirror before telling you.

“ what's the matter, sugardoll ? don't want to put a show for me, anymore ? ”

he had taken you to a shitty old motel down the road, where no one would be able to pick you up here. you knew he was intelligent, you knew it because you understood that every time he came to see you, he tried to learn more about you, but not to know you no, but to know when would be the right time to kidnap you. you knew it because he had stalked you carefully.

he had tried to tie you up while you tried to struggle one last time. but he had grabbed your jaw so violently that you felt your face shiver in his hands. “one more move, and i’ll show you how dolls are really treated, how i have no fucking bother to kill a tiny thing like you. ”

“i’m not going to run away.”

"i know.” he shushed you with a sick evil smirk. “ but it's not because you don't want to, sugardoll .but more because you can't.” he said, while releasing your jaw.

“ that's the small but important difference. i kidnapped you. do you even know what it means ? "

you started to cry, tears running down your cheeks.

“ you want a real reason to cry? fine. i can do that for you. i kidnapped you but you want to know the big part of all this? is that no one will come for you. your father doesn't love you , and that's why you work in this stupid gas station. you love the attention of these men so bad that you feel obliged to sexualize yourself to feel desired but me, i wanted you the first time i saw you. i let you do it, i let you play with them, but now it's all over. since i own you, this game is fucking over. ”

“shoupe will come after me ! ”

“but maybe you won’t be around to see it anymore.” he looked at you, and shushed your tears, while staring in your wet eyes. “ yes, i really like when you give me those tears, cry to me, little girl i'm the only men that really got you. ”

you glared at him as if he had fallen from the sky.

“ but now you have to be careful, don’t get on my nerves. i know it's hard for you, but don't do stupid things. ”

he placed your hand on his lower back, where you had felt the metallic coldness of the gun. and you shivered.

"yes, you got it. don't ever get on my nerves.”

“ how can i get on your nerves ? you don't really seems like a bad guy. more like a sweet guy ? ”

“ i'm not. and i'm not trying to be so watch your mouth. “

“ but i really think you are. can i hug you ? ”

“ try it, doll, literally try it. just try to touch me, i dare you. and i bet you will never tell me i'm the sweetest guy again. ”

“ can you at least bathe me ? ” you asked seriously.

“ jesus, do you think i'm your slave or whatever ? do you forget which position you are in ? in the captive one. so do not ask me those stupid things again. and don't try, no, never try to run away because, i can promise you that when i will find you, it will not be a pleasant time for you. and not even a little, but to the point, you will ask me to kill you. and i will be in a mood to accept your request ? yes, me. ”

you nodded as the kind and little girl you are who cannot argue against this tall man. he released your small face, and you were bathing alone. while you were taking your bath, alone in the tub, you heard rafe on the phone without being able to understand what he was saying but after that call, he left the room.

you had decided to buy some food with the little money you had at the food and drink vending machine.

with a happy smile, you went back up, hoping to please him. but you had found him on the chair in front of the TV.

“look, what…”

“i think you’re really nice. but not at your own good, sugar. ”

“ i just wan…”

“ get on the bed, now. ”

he couldn't help but relaxing when he saw how your blue dress was so tiny, already showing your soaked underwear.

" no whining. " he said as he shoved himself deeply in your tight abused cunt, your ragdoll body pressed down in the mattress, his thick stronger arms hugged your small waist, while thrusting harder and harder, your walls clenched around his fat cock. you can felt the size growing bigger in your wettering pussy, as he turned you into a real crybaby, tears flowing down your cheeks. you were caged by his beefy and muscular body on the bed, gasped on the edge. “ you wanted to act like a big girl ? then take it like a big girl. no fucking whining, i'm just giving you what you want. ”

he was literally buried inside you, snapping your hips, moving in and out. the atmosphere was hot, you felt the heat, there were trails of saliva around your mouth. “stop whining babydoll, daddy is not at his worse actually. and you don't want to see this happen.” you wanted to hate him but it was like you appreciated him being so mean to you, your pussy was dripping, your fluids drenching him, your sticky walls surrounded his girth. " yes, that's it. pull up some juices for daddy, make it easier for him to destroy you. "

everytime you runned away from him, he lifted your head with a grunt, and with a wild thrust inside of you, making you drip even more as his glistening tip reached your spot, the dirty and wetness sound of his moves echoed in the room, your body trapped against his taller one.

with a hand on your throat, you were arched to the point where he could see your wetted eyes rolled up. "try to run away again, and you will have the fucking pleasure to be a momma, as well as a missing girl. i'm not asking you to take my cock better.” he said with a threat. “ no, i'm telling you to do it as your fucking job. ”

all teary, you could bet that rafe didn't know how big he was for telling you this. you were trying your best actually. he was rutting in you, holding your tiny size with one big hand, getting so feral everytime he saw your small body twitching when he pushed himself further. your moans were loud, as your squirted more than one time on him, your dripping walls clamped his hard cock. even when your third orgasm flowed against your bulging pussy, creating a mess at the surface, he continued.

" you know sugardoll, you better work faster for my cum, because i will only stop when i will see how creampie your pussy is for my dick.”

he stuffed your puffy messy cunt, while your pumped his fingers who slidded deep down in your throat, your warm and bullied tongue fighting to not dropped them.

you slobbed more with the overstimulation. you felt like this man was insatiable. rafe loved to see you, his sugardoll in pain, taking so much for him.

when he finally stopped teasing you, and fighting himself to not cum, and clearly toying you, he exploded, making you cried out. all your body was filled with spasms.

you expected something from rafe when he pulled out, a little soft spot, or at least, just one look but he just went to the bathroom. alone.

you expected him to be sweet for you, like the sugar you were for him. and you knew, that you will work for this later.

when he came back, you looked at him, always attracted by his charisma, the way he made you felt so tiny by his big size, the way he was old enough to make you feel like a little girl, just the way his raised voice made you feel so small.

“ can i sleep with you ? ”

“ whatever. just don't touch me. ”

“ you're not gonna be my big spoon ? “

“ what the fuck is this ? i'm not gonna be your spoon. jesus, can you just sleep and not ask for any stupid things that you think i will do because you're already so obsessed with me ? and give me your hands. ”

he tied them up on the bed with your little blue ribbon.

“ just in case you think you can escape me. ”

“ i can't sleep like that ! ”

“ i fear it's not my fucking problem, sugardoll.”

“ fine. i will talk and talk all night. ”

“ i can fuck you all the night too. but one of us will not survive this. so stop being so damn annoying. ”

“ what if i want to pee in the middle of the night ? ”

“ you're strong enough to hold it. and you fucking better be strong enough to hold it. ”

“ why are you so mean to me ? why you kidnapped me ? ”

“ sugardoll, listen to me. look at me, yes. eyes on daddy right now. i swear, and you need to listen carefully because i will tell you once, just once, so your dumby brain need to pay attention, if you're talking another time, even if i see your lips moving, just a twitch, i will put my dick right in your mouth, making you suck it for without a break until the sun rises again. and i can promise you that after, you will never talk to me because you will never be able to open that mouth again. do you got it ? nod your head if you got it, doll.”

and you nodded.

as a doll, you were conditionned to listen to your owner, even if he was so mean to you. but you were as soft as sugar, always melted around, already thinking he was the best guy around.

“ sweet dreams, sugardoll. ”

i promise one day i will write something very good, just give me a chance. i think the only sweet thing in this work, it's rafe calling r " sugardoll ", he's so mean please 😭😭 i think i make him a little too dark to the point, i'm questionning about how he can be sweet to the reader now ????? but i guess, it's part of the game. tysm @bunnyrafe and @fae-of-prey me a lot !

[keysandcrosses]

drawtober day 21-31

[erwinsvow]

size kink + manhandling + rafe x shy!reader…. is a concept NO ONE will survive. i stand by my words.

babe this was such a delicious prompt. i fear not even i survived. this almost seems like their first time having sex i feel like she needs such a firm hand in the bedroom. yay! ♡

you glance up at your boyfriend, looking back down again quickly. you don't know how you ended up here, pressed against the door frame of his bedroom, your wrists trapped between rafe's hands, pushed flat against the surface.

rafe's pushed against you, so close that the only thing you can think about is the scent of his cologne. you eyes flutter shut when he moves, pressing his face against your hair, then against your cheek, pressing a hot kiss there. you squirm, wanting to get free, because it's too overwhelming. it's no use—rafe will chase you down even if you manage to run.

"eyes open. up here. look at me." it's a command, and ever-obedient, you comply, looking up though you can hear all the blood rushing into your ears, everything else going blank and fuzzy, the only thought left in your mind is the way your boyfriend's look at you right now, like you're prey that he's finally caught.

he lifts your wrists above your head, pinning them in place with one hand, the other coming down to your jaw, gripping your face tight while he leans in for another kiss. you feel boxed in, all senses flooded with nothing but rafe, and you sigh, cherishing the feeling.

"y'ready? hm?" you nod, but you know it's not enough. "let me hear it, then." you whine, but rafe tightens his grip.

"i'm ready for it, daddy." your eyes shut again, face feeling hot and skin aflame. "swear."

"good girl." you think he's gonna let you go, send you to get ready on his bed, but instead he picks you up just as quickly, throwing you over his shoulder. you let out a yelp, while he slaps your ass from his position. "c'mon, kid. said you're ready. m'not waiting any longer."

[xulips]

we were going to be together forever

[sea-buns]

aabria bringing up the ao3 dorym fanfics she's read to liam in her case of why they should fuck. aimee directly asking matt for clarification on the vibes dariax was putting out towards dorian.

voices of the people. women after my own heart. single handedly giving me enough dopamine to keep chipping away at the hours and hours I still have left to catch up on.

[coff33andb00ks]

lando + 13. that’s it. thx <3

I received the same request twice omg so this is for both of you <3 13: linking hands together during sex (warning: smut)

driver + number = drabble/short fic <3

Having sex with Lando is a wild card. You never know what, exactly, to expect, though you did have indicators. If it's morning after waking up it'll be slow and sweet. If you're at a race weekend with him and he grabs your hand to pull you into his driver's room it's going to be hard and fast, a desperate quickie that you always pray no one will overhear. Hotel rooms usually signify a wild marathon with breaks for snacks and naps, because gods forbid he go without trying to get a noise complaint.

At home, though, it's always a mix of all of them. Sweet and slow, wild and hard, a marathon or a sprint. Either or, you love them all.

Tonight, though, is different. He'd taken you out to dinner, had flowers delivered, had ordered a ride instead of just driving himself, had spent way too much money on champagne at the restaurant. He doesn't go all out often, but when he does, it's for you.

For a horrific moment you think he's going down on his knee to propose, and wonder why you aren't relieved that he doesn't, holding onto his shoulder while he unfastens the strap of your high heel and slides it off your foot. He removes your other shoe, hands sliding up your legs as he gives you the look that had made you say yes the first time he asked you out.

"Are we celebrating something?" you ask, worried you've forgotten. Contrary to what you would have thought, Lando remembers the dates of random firsts in your relationship. First meeting, first date, first sex, first fight, first trip together, first meal cooked together, first night you stayed over. It's cute and endearing and also a little scary because you can only remember the major firsts.

"Just us," he promises, slowly rising to his feet.

You melt, because of course you do, wrapping your arms around him when he grabs your hips and pulls you to him. And you wish you could shout from the rooftops how much you love him, how he truly is the most romantic man when he doesn't need to be. He kisses you, champagne and chocolate, and before your love-fogged brain can catch up you're in bed, his head between your thighs, gripping the sheets while you call out his name.

It's still different, but the same. His little whining gasp and the pause after he enters you. The breathless whisper of your name just before his hips begin to roll. The fullness, the incandescent glow of loving and being loved in his eyes. You hold your breath, waiting for him to switch to the desperate fucking, but he doesn't. He stays slow, eyes locked with yours, hands everywhere from your ankles to your chest to your throat. He leans down for a kiss and you finally breathe.

You're clutching the sheets, the slow passion driving you crazier than any intense quickie ever will, body arching beneath his fingertips, gasping and crying out as his hands sweep up your sides. He whispers gentle words, talking you through it as only he has ever been able to do, his breath hot against your ear while his palms stroke down your arms. His fingers gently pry yours from the sheet and you gasp his name, hands tangling with his when he stretches them above your head.

"Let it out, baby, no one will hear," he whispers, squeezing your hands when you start to tremble. "It's just us…"

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

request: can i pretty please request a drabble where gen has a sibling and that said sibling and hoshina are dating? even better if gen's sibling is an officer/troop leader in the first division and partakes in the rivalry between the third and first division but outside of everyone's view— gen's sibling and hoshina are terribly lovey dovey!

warnings: reader wears short shorts in a scene

wc: 1200

This was not something that started today. Rather, it had been this way for as long as anyone could remember.

From the moment you had joined the 1st Division, you had always been bickering with Hoshina— just like your brother. It was plain as day you were none other than the younger sibling of Narumi Gen. Although you lacked the power and passion for fame that Gen had, you weren't any less competitive than him.

However, unlike your brother, you were better at neutralizing smaller size Kaiju than him— naturally making you more competitive with Hoshina. While you were incredible at what you did, you seemed to fall just a step behind of Hoshina most of the time. You were insanely good, but Hoshina was just a little better. You had beaten him just once in the neutralization test of smaller sized kaiju, and you just couldn't seem to do it again.

This was well known among most of the first and third division, and they did enjoy your playful banter that arose even in the toughest of times. It wasn't always easy to keep the mood bright when things got difficult, but the two of you would never fail to do so. They hoped this would never change and your rivalry would never fade.

However, there were things that had changed that no one really knew of. The two of you had started dating a year ago, and you were madly in love. It was your little secret. Well, your little secret that Gen accidentally found out about.

Neither of you had told Gen about this and quite frankly, the two of you were planning to keep hiding this from him if it were possible. It wasn't new that he despised Hoshina quite a bit, and he was extremely weary of the people you meet, especially men. Naturally, to find out that Hoshina was your boyfriend wouldn't exactly be celebratory news for him. Not to mention that Gen was loud when he had complaints. You knew he absolutely would not shut up about it. So it really wasn't the plan when he had found out.

You were in your room lazing around in a baggy shirt, specifically Hoshina’s shirt, which covered your short-shorts while Hoshina was in your kitchen cooking something quick. Until you got a shared place, this happened rather often. It was either him in your room or yourself in his room. However, a lot of your stuff had found a place in his unit and vice versa, so it was very easy for you to visit each other whenever. A little too easy, perhaps.

“Hoshina, you don't have to make anything fancy,” you said. “Anything’s fine. You had a long day too.”

“I'm literally making us ochazuke. It couldn't be easier—” he was starting to say when the door swung open.

“Guess who's here!” Gen had yelled while walking into your place.

Immediately you looked back at Hoshina in the kitchen and gave up. “Oh gosh,” you said.

“What did I say about ringing the doorbell?!” you yelled back at him.

“And what did I say about locking the door?!” he exclaimed back.

“I thought I did—” you started to yell, but then you remembered you had forgotten to lock the door after Hoshina came in, hands full of groceries to stuff your empty fridge. You were a little too thrilled to see him. “My bad.”

You knew Hoshina was going to scold you later— he's been telling you to be more careful about locking up properly.

Gen saw the extra pair of shoes by your doorway and immediately met eyes with Hoshina in your kitchen.

“Why the hell are you here?!” he yelled.

“Oh, can you please be quiet,” you said. “He's visiting.”

“Why, hello! That would be me!” Hoshina said, greeting Gen properly now that it's come down to this.

“Why is he visiting you, in your room, alone, with you dressed like that?” Gen continued to ask. He wasn't understanding nor did it seem like he wanted to.

You let out a sigh, you didn't mean to, but there was no getting around this one. “What's wrong with having my boyfriend in my room,” you said.

“Your boyfriend? Hoshina?” Gen said, horrified. He didn't think matters could get worse, yet here he was. “Why him?”

“Oh, why not him?” you asked. “He's the best I could ever wish for.”

Hoshina didn’t expect that— especially not to your brother, just like that. His eyes widened as his heart tightened. Oh, how he absolutely adored you. You said it so naturally, as if merely stating a fact. To you, that really was all it was though.

Gen had a lot more to say and complain about while staying far too long, long enough to steal some ochazuke for dinner (which he also managed to complain about) before you were finally able to kick him out. Yet, through all of that, Hoshina couldn't be happier to be with you, bickering away as you ate a 5 minute meal at a small make-shift dining table.

As soon as Gen finally left, you spread your arms out in front of you, asking for a hug, which Hoshina promptly returned.

“He's finally gone…” you said, relieved it was finally just the two of you.

“Not sure he liked me much,” Hoshina said with a smile and you rolled your eyes.

“Like we didn't already know,” you said. “I really didn't plan for him to barge in like that.”

“I have to admit, I do enjoy watching you two bicker though. My brother and I are not nearly as close,” Hoshina said and you rolled your eyes again when he said ‘close’. You wouldn't ever explain your relationship as ‘close’. “However, you ought to make a habit of locking your door. What if that wasn't your brother and I wasn't here.”

“Yes,” you said, quietly but clearly— but avoiding eye contact. “I will.”

“Thank you for saying that earlier,” he said, turning your head to face his. “To this day I don't know what made you choose me.”

You immediately realized what he was talking about.

“Oh, please,” you said. “Be serious. I am the luckiest person alive by your side.”

He kissed you and you kissed back, but he truly wouldn't let you go. You started hitting his arm, hoping he would let go so you could catch your breath. After what felt like the longest moments ever he finally let you pull back, letting you breathe.

“Soushirou, I can't breathe!” you said, trying to sound irritated, but your tone lacked the edge you were hoping for.

He completely ignored you, however, and pulled you back into a tight embrace.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” he said. “Just you and me.”

“In this small place?” you said, laughing a little.

“Absolutely wherever,” he said. “As long as you're here with me.”

[hotshotsxyz]

Hiii Abbie 💕💕💕

Buddie + “ i didn’t know where else to go. “

-❤️🪐

(buddie) (1.5k) eddie's pov before and after the events of this fic written for the same prompt! (technically i only used the line in the first one but oh well lol)

cw: vague description of a very bad car accident

Eddie doesn’t make a habit of watching the news. It’s depressing as hell, he runs the risk of seeing Taylor fucking Kelly on his TV, and if something he actually needs to know about is going on, he’ll hear it from Buck some time in the next few days anyway. All that to say, Eddie isn’t watching the news; he’s just flipping through the channels.

“Pick me, choose me!” Meredith Grey is saying in a rerun of Grey’s Anatomy.

click

“—low pressure system moving in from the north,” a meteorologist says on The Weather Channel.

click

“Alright boys, saddle up!” says the captain on that crappy network firefighter show.

click

“—multi-car pile-up on the 405. It’s unclear if—”

click

“—raw dough. It’s such a shame—”

click

“—urging drivers to avoid—”

click

“—looking for a loft in the city, while Jennifer would prefer—”

click

“—unclear if there are any survivors of the initial crash.”

Eddie puts the remote down. He doesn’t make a habit of watching the news, but every once in a while, something catches his attention.

The image on the screen is an aerial shot of a massive, burning multicar pile-up. The 136 is on scene, but they can’t have been there long if the size and ferocity of the fire is anything to go by.

“—compounded by the explosion of a tanker carrying gasoline—”

Eddie winces. They’re going to be there all night if they don’t get more companies on scene. He reaches for the remote at the same time as the shot switches from the aerial to a reporter on the ground. She’s not what stops him from changing the channel. The crushed and smoldering Jeep behind her is.

And it’s—there’ve got to be a thousand silver Jeeps in Los Angeles. And Buck wouldn’t—why would he even be on the 405? So obviously it’s not Buck’s Jeep, even if it is the same color and probably year. It’s just a shitty little coincidence.

An unpleasant pressure begins to build in Eddie’s chest.

He’ll just—it’s not late. He doesn’t even have to tell Buck why he’s calling. Eddie scoops his phone off the table, navigates to his favorites, and taps Buck’s name. The call goes straight to voicemail. Eddie frowns and taps his name again. He gets the same result.

“—and rescue is under way, but I’m being told that until the fire is contained—”

Buck’s phone is dead, probably. Or—or he took Jee to that movie he was talking about so he had to turn it off. That’s—he’s sure that’s it. Eddie rubs at his sternum and stands. He’s just… feeling a little paranoid.

He calls Maddie. She answers on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Maddie,” Eddie says, brushing a hand across the back of his neck. “It’s Eddie.”

“Uh, hey,” Maddie says. “Is everything okay?”

Eddie winces. “Yeah, I think so. I was just wondering if you’ve talked to Buck tonight.” He’s being ridiculous. Buck’s fine.

“No,” Maddie says, obvious confusion in her tone. “Why, did something happen?”

“No, no,” Eddie says. “I just haven’t been able to get ahold of him.”

Maddie hums thoughtfully. “He might’ve had a dental appointment earlier,” she says.

“Okay, thanks,” Eddie says. “I’ll probably just swing by the loft then.” There’s a pit in his stomach. Buck’s fine. At worst he has a cavity or two. He’s fine.

“Oh!” Maddie exclaims. “Hold on, let me check his location; I’ll save you the trip if he’s not there.”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose. Duh. He has Buck’s location too. He didn’t even need to bother Maddie with—

“Nope, sorry,” she says.

Eddie takes a breath. He’s fine. Buck’s fine. “Maddie,” he says slowly, “where is he?”

“Um, as of twenty-eight minutes ago, looks like he was driving through Culver City, on the 405, I think,” she replies. “Eddie, what’s going on?”

“Oh god,” he breathes. He can feel the blood draining from his face.

“Eddie?” Maddie asks. She’s starting to sound worried.

On the TV, the camera zooms in and pans across the wreckage. It reaches the Jeep. Hanging from the rearview mirror is a bigfoot air freshener that looks exactly like the one Chimney gave him as a joke a few months ago. It’s—

It’s Buck’s Jeep. He’s fine. He has to be fine.

“—understand that search and rescue efforts are underway, but as of right now, no additional survivors have been located.”

He could be dead.

Eddie’s knees give out beneath him. He lands heavily on the couch.

“Don’t turn on the news,” he says.

“What? Why?” Maddie asks.

“There was an accident on the 405,” Eddie replies mechanically. “I think it might be bad.”

On the other end of the line, Maddie sucks in a sharp breath. “Eddie—”

“It’s his Jeep,” Eddie says.

He’s okay.

He has to be okay.

He’s not okay.

He could be dead.

“I have to call Bobby,” Eddie realizes aloud. “He can—he can get in touch with IC.”

“Okay,” Maddie says shakily. “Okay. I’m going to call Sue. Maybe she—” Maddie cuts herself off with something like a gasp.

“I’ll call you when—” if “—I get ahold of him,” Eddie promises.

“Same,” Maddie replies.

They end the call without a goodbye.

Eddie tries Buck again, just in case. He doesn’t answer.

He can’t—

Buck has to be okay.

He has to.

Eddie takes a steeling breath and calls Bobby.

…

Eddie’s crawling out of his skin. The captain of the 136 has him on hold, and that’s already more than he’s obligated to do but—

But it’s Buck and Eddie’s fucking terrified.

The longer he waits, the farther afield his imagination goes.

He’s got a broken leg and a concussion; they’re taking him to Cedars-Sinai.

He wasn’t conscious when we found him. They’re airlifting him to UCLA.

I’m sorry, Diaz. He was DOA.

Eddie paces back and forth and tugs at his hair. He needs to do something, anything! He needs—

Flashing blue and red lights filter in through the window.

He’s dead.

He’s dead, and this time Eddie wasn’t there to coax him back.

He’s dead and they sent an officer to tell him in person and Eddie’s never going to catch his breath because Buck’s the one that taught him how to breathe after—

There’s a knock at the door.

He can’t do this. Eddie can’t do this. He can’t—

How is he supposed to go to work without Buck? How’s he supposed to tell Christopher? How is he ever going to get up in the morning again? How is his heart supposed to keep beating in a world devoid of Evan Buckley?

He opens the door.

His phone clatters to the floor.

“Buck,” he sobs.

…

Eddie watches the slow rise and fall of Buck’s bruised chest as he sleeps.

He’s alive.

He’s okay.

He’s got tangible proof right in front of him, but—

Eddie reaches out and brushes an errant curl from his forehead.

Buck is alive and breathing and sleeping in Eddie’s bed and he’s okay. But Eddie—

He rests his palm on Buck’s sternum and counts each inhale.

Buck’s here. He’s fine. Maddie knows and Bobby knows and Eddie’s got the living proof right in front of him, but—

Eddie shuffles a little closer until the heat of Buck’s skin is overwhelming against his own. He hooks his chin onto Buck’s shoulder and tries to memorize the strange shadows and highlights that are painted on his skin by the light of the moon.

He’s alive.

He’s alive.

He could’ve—

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and shudders.

Buck’s alive and he’s right here, but Eddie can’t quite escape the moment when he was certain neither of those things would ever be true again. His breathing goes a little ragged, and his hands curl into fists.

“Eds?” Buck mumbles, eyes still closed.

Eddie lets out a shaky breath. “M’sorry, go back to sleep,” he whispers. The words are sticky and thick in his throat.

A small furrow etches itself between Buck’s brows. Eddie smooths it with his thumb. He drags his gaze back down Buck’s face and finds his eyes open and fixed on him.

“Eddie,” he whispers in the dark.

He takes a deep breath. “I’m fine,” he lies.

Buck frowns. He watches Eddie for a long moment, then something in his expression shifts. “Switch sides with me,” he says.

Eddie blinks. “What?”

Buck huffs a soft breath. “Just—trust me?”

And oh, Eddie does. He carefully climbs over Buck, who shuffles to his right to give Eddie more room.

“Okay?” he asks quietly.

“Almost,” Buck replies.

He pulls Eddie flush against him and guides his head down onto his chest. Beneath him, Buck’s heart beats strong and steady.

“Oh,” Eddie exhales.

Buck runs his hand through Eddie’s hair and down his back.

Eddie closes his eyes and finally, he sleeps.

[zackcharine]

rgb doodle prompt Pico being deliriously cuddly with them bc I like the idea that this guy completely loses his head when he's overtired

Ggrrrgrgr runs away with them in my mouth

[iizuumi]

Did a fun little art trade with @bluevelvetea and got to draw NaruKaf for her ♥

[harvocel]

For Sody's prompt: "Whatever the artist who gets this has wanted to draw for a while"

Thank you for donating. here is a technoblade :]

(and the fundraiser is still open!)

[triona-tribblescore]

Could we see Usagi's reaction to Leo brumating suddenly in random places of the ship :D

Like it's probably cold there sometimes since they're in the open sea

He mostly just thinks its cute (shhh) and makes sure he's comfortable <3

[yonbwekh]

Whumpee who was constantly told they're asking for too much by Whumper saying "I'm sorry for being greedy, but:" then asking for a basic need