#so i guess it just means i like being helpful

[artdcnaldson]

changeover || art donaldson x reader ; patrick zweig x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex x2, fingering, f!recieving oral), drinking, pining after people you can’t have, a dash of reader x tashi, sprinkles of patrick x art, porn WITH plot

Summary: your ‘casual’ fling with art isn’t working for you anymore, which sucks because you probably love the guy. enter a freshly heartbroken patrick to take your mind off of things.

FALL 2006

You knew exactly why Art Donaldson refused to acknowledge that you were an item. You could see it clearly across the room— the way you were cast to the shadows while he followed Tashi around like a lost puppy.  

It made sense, even if it made your chest ache. Tashi was gorgeous, and was acing her classes, and was going to go pro soon and become a beautiful, all-American sports icon. And you were just some girl he’d met because he needed help understanding the reading for class. 

You’d known each other for months by then— hooking up, going on dates that ‘weren’t dates,’ spending most of your time together. And you stayed firmly in the no-labels zone. But you weren’t bitter. It was totally fine, being treated like a girlfriend in all but name. 

Art laughed and leaned into Tashi. It was totally fine.

You were nursing a beer in a red solo cup and trying your best to look friendly and approachable. The only reason you were even at the party was because Art had brought you, so you should’ve felt grateful. You should’ve been having fun.

But just as soon as you’d arrived, he’d slipped away with a promise to be right back. It had been over an hour, so it seemed like you had very different definitions of right back.

“Looks like your boyfriend stole my girlfriend.” You turned to see Patrick, tanned from his time on tour. He was only going to be at Stanford for the weekend before taking off for a challenger a state over, which meant he needed to capitalize on any chance to spend time with Art and Tashi. 

Unfortunately, you’d both been ditched.

“Art isn’t my boyfriend,” you said pointedly, maybe a little too quickly. 

Patrick knew better. The last time he came to visit, he’d interrupted a pseudo date night between the two of you (which was a nice way of saying he walked in on the two of you in Art’s dorm while his best friend was was knuckles deep in you). The rest of that night wound up being spent passing around mixed drinks made with cheap vodka and whatever you could get from the nearest vending machine. You overheard the it’s casual, nothing serious conversation they’d had through the ajar door while you bought more Powerade and Red Bull in the hall. 

But you were being so understanding and cool about that. 

Patrick narrowed his eyes slightly. “Really?” The corner of his mouth tugged upwards for a moment before he wrapped his lips around a beer can. He tried to hide it, but you saw. 

You chewed on your lip, stomach twisting with nerves and curiosity. He was probably just messing with you, trying to get your thoughts all muddled up about Art because it was fun. Still, you couldn’t help but ask the burning question echoing through your mind. “Did Art say something to you? About us, I mean.”

The question felt pathetic. A stupid, desperate girl begging to know if the guy she liked felt the same way. 

Patrick shrugged, leaning against the wall bearing the portraits of the ghosts of frat brothers’ past. “Not directly. But you’re here together, right? And he’s still seeing you.”

“I guess,” you replied with a huff, embarrassment burning hot in your chest. 

“If you’re worried about Tashi, don’t be,” Patrick said, sparing a glance in her direction. When you looked towards Art, and the way he was smiling and laughing and looked so natural beside her, a frown turned your lips. Patrick nudged your arm and offered a smile. “Hey, I’m serious. Nothing’s gonna happen there. Trust me.”

It should’ve felt nice. A total reassurance from the person who knew Art best. But it did nothing to quell the turmoil twisting in the pit of your stomach. Because if he really did feel that way, why was he over there with her?

Tashi Duncan. So beautiful, radiant, and perfect that she had total control over two men. Your paths didn’t cross much, outside of Art, and that was rare since he liked to keep you two apart. 

But there was a part of you that knew that Tashi would’ve been able to make you melt with one look, one smile, one word. You wanted to experience what Art did. You wanted to know what Patrick knew, and what Art was jealous of. Or maybe you wanted something of your own too, something to keep Art out of. 

“I need another drink,” you said suddenly, meeting Patrick’s gaze. “Do you wanna come with me?” Patrick’s eyes flitted quickly towards Tashi, where she bantered with Art and the rest of the tennis team. 

There was something in his expression you found incredibly familiar. That pang of jealousy. The ache of not belonging just right. The look was gone quickly, replaced by a toothy smile. “Sure. I could use something stronger.”

——

An hour later, Tashi left with Patrick, and Art quickly decided to take you back to his own dorm. 

His lips were insistent against yours, kissing you hungrily, completely dissonant to the delicate way he tugged down the zipper of your dress. His fingers were warm where they brushed along the line of your spine. His tongue brushed against yours, tasting of beer and mint gum.

“What were you doing with him?” He murmured against your lips just as he peeled off the cheap, bodycon dress you’d gotten from Forever 21. It was tossed across the room, to be lost in the mess of practice duffles and empty water bottles and dirty laundry. The only time he parted his lips from you was to lift you onto his bed and slot himself between your thighs. 

His tongue licked into your mouth possessively, claiming you as his from the inside out. You gasped as one of his hands kneaded your breast, panting open-mouthed against his lips. “Who?” You managed weakly, your mind completely blank except for Art, Art, Art. And maybe a tiny voice in the back of your head that was still thinking about the Tashi of it all.

“Patrick.” His voice was soft against the tender skin of your jaw. “I saw you two talk, then you disappeared for, like, an hour.” His teeth nipped gently at your pulse point as he nuzzled against your throat, awaiting your answer. 

So he had been watching? He was with her, but he was still thinking about you. It made your heart flutter. You moaned softly as his hand slid between your thighs, teasing you through your panties. “Getting drinks,” you managed feebly. “Fuck, Art, I can’t concentrate while y—“

You gasped at the feeling of his fingers slipping beneath the band of your panties, teasing you with delicate touches. “Just drinks? For an hour?”

A strangled gasp escaped you as fingers slick with your arousal met your clit. When your eyes opened in surprise, you found Art staring right back. His touch was relentless, flooding your senses with pleasure as he demanded an answer. “We were in the living room,” you managed between soft pants and moans. “He was telling me about the— god— about the tour.”

Art’s expression flickered slightly— a tiny furrow forming between his brows. Was it doubt, or possessiveness, or anger? Before you could figure it out, his lips were against your throat, your panties were pushed to the side, and he was easing two fingers inside of your cunt.

“Fuck,” you cried out, grasping onto his shoulders. French manicured nails scratched at the pastel-colored polo he wore— why was he still wearing his clothes? Soft, keening moans slipped past your lips as he fucked you with his fingers. Every thought of him preferring Tashi or him leading you on slipped from the front of your mind as his thumb rubbed at your clit.

With a free hand, you palmed him over his pants, relishing in the way he panted against your warm skin. You made quick work of the button of his jeans— you knew your way around him like the back of your hand. He was warm, pulsing in your delicate grip when your hand slipped beneath the band of his briefs. Slick at his tip with need. 

He moaned against your pulse point, nuzzling against you as you began to jerk him off in time with each pump of his fingers. 

“You smell like him,” he groaned, nose pressed to the spot just beneath your ear as his hips bucked into your fist with a new sort of desperation. You didn’t have to ask who he meant. His tongue slipped out, lapping at you briefly before sucking a bruise into the delicate skin there. 

His fingers flexed so they brushed against the sweet spot within you. Your eyes rolled back and a sob of pleasure clawed its way from your throat. “Need you,” you pleaded, equal parts a thoughtless cry and a demand.

And who was he to deny either of you that? A pitiful whine escaped your lips when he slipped his fingers from within you and moved your hand from him. He stood to clumsily pull off the rest of his clothes at the same time that you quickly shimmied off your panties and tossed them to the side.

”You’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned as he joined you back on the bed, slotting himself between your legs. You were so pliant and sweet beneath him, looking up at him with adoring doe-eyes and a pretty smile on your spit-slick lips. He should’ve been perfectly content.

As he parted your thighs, stroking his dick as he lined himself up with your entrance, he wondered if Tashi and Patrick were doing the same exact thing at that same exact moment. He could imagine it clearly— Tashi, splayed out on her bed, and Patrick right at home between her thighs; sinking in, faces contorting with pleasure. Before he could stop himself, a soft moan slipped past his lips at the mental image. 

Your nails dug into his shoulder blades as he sheathed himself within you, and he buried his face into your neck. Fuck. You really did smell like Patrick. The shitty Axe body spray that was supposed to smell like chocolate, and the lingering scent of cigarettes. 

You moaned prettily, pussy squeezing him like a vise. Manicured nails scratched against his back, delicate enough that the marks would probably disappear by that time the next day. He was so used to Patrick lounging shirtless around their hotel rooms after tournaments— severe-looking scratch marks looking like angel wings against his pale skin. He always wore them like a badge of honor the night after he snuck off with some pretty girl he’d set his sights on. That’s how you know you’re doing it right. 

Why was he thinking about Patrick?

He tried to lose himself in you— in how pretty you were beneath him, the sweet words falling from your lips with each thrust. Feels so good, Art. ‘M so close already. Gonna make me cum. 

When he looked down at you, your mouth hung open, lips shiny with spit, begging to be kissed. His mouth met yours messily and you both moaned into the kiss. He moved a hand between your thighs, rubbing at your clit as he bullied his cock into your inviting cunt. 

You came with a string of moans and expletives that made the person next door bang on the wall out of annoyance. Art had to pull out as soon as he felt you start to squeeze around him. All it took was a few clumsy strokes and he was spilling onto your stomach with an almost embarrassing whine. 

You both lay there catching your breath and cursing the shitty air conditioning in the dorm. He wiped the mess of cum off of your stomach with an old tee shirt that was hanging off the side of his desk and tossed it to the side to be dealt with later.

“You’re so gross,” you mumbled with a tiny laugh, reaching down to grab your underwear from your floor. After you pulled them back on, you watched him dig through a pile of clothes in a papasan chair for a passable pair of pajama pants. An amused smile played on your lips at the sight. “Do I need to buy you a hamper?”

He held up a pair of pajama pants to examine them, shrugged, and pulled them on. “I have one, it’s just full.” A boyish grin spread across his lips as he crossed the room towards his dresser. He tossed a random tee shirt from the drawer in your direction and climbed on the bed, grinning down at you. “See? I have clean clothes.”

You laughed as you pulled the shirt over your head, then turned on your side to face him. His eyes flickered from your face, down to the shirt, then back. You wrinkled your face in confusion and peered down at the shirt. 

“What? What does it say?” You asked with a laugh.  You held it out, squinting to make sense of the graphic— faded and upside down. Finally, your eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh! I thought you were more of a Maroon 5 and Justin Timberlake guy. I’ve never even seen a Blink-182 CD in your stuff before.”

Art cleared his throat and shrugged, thumbing the bottom of the tee shirt absentmindedly. “I went with Patrick a few years back.”

A smile turned your lips. “It’s sweet that you two are such good friends.” You reached over, brushing his curls from his forehead. He turned, pressing a kiss to the delicate skin of your wrist. “Did you and Tashi have fun tonight?” The insecurity in your words was palpable.

Art shrugged. “A party’s a party, y’know?” He leaned into your touch, letting you play with his hair. “Just lost track of time. I won’t run off on you next time.”

You chewed your lip shyly. “I think it’d be nice for the three of us to hang out sometime,” you said, watching his expression to gauge his reaction. 

“C’mere,” he said with a tired smile, effectively avoiding your suggestion. When he pulled you against his side, he nuzzled his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder. His breath tickled with each exhale, which made you squirm, but every so often he’d place a chaste kiss on the skin there and you’d forget why you wanted to ask him to move.

In the morning, when you woke up to his alarm clock blaring a local radio station, you realized it was the first time he’d let you stay the night. 

SPRING 2007

After your second drink, you decided that Art Donaldson had hung you out to dry for the last time. Well, probably the last time. 

Most likely not the last time. 

Knowing yourself, you’d be clinging to his side like a lost puppy in a few weeks’ time, if you even had the dignity to give it that long. The second his attention turned to you again, you knew you’d be absolutely relishing in the special affection he always gave you when he was experiencing Tashi-related withdrawal.

You were so stupidly in love (or in lust, or in whatever) with him that you’d accept just about anything he could throw at you. 

No labels, just casual? Fine. Ignoring you all night then conveniently remembering you exist when he’s horny and ready to go back to his dorm? Whatever. You’re game. 

You’d gone to every match, watched a few practices. Helped him study for exams, let him borrow the notecards you’d painstakingly written over the course of the semester. Jesus, you even wrote a few essays for him when his schedule got crowded and he just couldn’t manage.

All you asked in return was a date to a stupid formal, and he ditched you last minute for Tashi. Again. And you couldn’t even get pissed about it without feeling guilty, because she’d fucking gotten injured and it wasn’t her fault that the guy you were into was carrying a torch for her instead.

“You’ve been staring down the Reese’s Pieces for the last five minutes.” The familiar voice startled you from your sulking. The world filtered back in suddenly— the blaring music, the smell of cigarettes and pot, the chatter of people wandering in and out of neighboring dorms. When you turned, Patrick Zweig was leaning against the vending machine beside you, carrying a large Tennis bag and backpack on both of his shoulders. “Do you need five bucks?”

“Shouldn’t you be with Tashi?” You asked, brows furrowed with confusion. “I heard about her match. I just figured that you’d…“ You trailed off as you noticed the thinly veiled kicked-puppy expression he wore. “Oh.”

He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, that’s… it’s over. Did you want the Reese’s, or not?” 

“No,” you shook your head and laughed. “I just needed…” you trailed off. What was it you needed, again?

You needed Art. A date to the formal. You needed to feel desirable and cared for. You needed him to get his head out of his ass and just fucking commit. You needed to tell Art to fuck off and find another groupie. You needed…

“Another drink?” Patrick suggested.

You nodded eagerly like that’s what you’d been thinking all along. “Yes. Another drink.” You paused, glancing at his bags. “Do you want to drop your things in my room first? My roommate is in Iowa, or something. She won’t mind.”

Your dorm was decorated in shades of pink and green, with a ruffled bedspread and faux fur pillows and blankets. You bent down to retrieve two bottles of Smirnoff Ice from a mini fridge. Patrick did his best to look away like a gentleman would. 

Well, he did his best. It wasn’t exactly his fault that his options were to look at your tight jeans or the bulletin board above your desk that was essentially an Art Donaldson shrine. 

Pretty pink push pins held up a photo of the two of you after one of his matches, both beaming at the camera. Then there were little notes he’d written you in his boyish scrawl. Tickets to movies you’d gone to see and tickets to his matches. 

“Here,” you said, drawing his attention back to you, thankfully in an upright position. You’d already popped the bottle caps off the radioactive blue drink you handed him. You were chewing your lip shyly, sweetly. “It’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it?”

“What?” He took a drink and nearly grimaced at the sweetness. After he finished it, he’d need to go find something stronger.

You sighed and took a long drink yourself. “I dunno, the whole… thing. Art.” You absentmindedly toyed with the hem of your shirt. “I mean, what girl with any self-respect lets a guy just screw her for months with no commitment?”

“Maybe self-respect is overrated.” He laughed and stepped closer. “Full disclosure? I only came here hoping that I could fuck someone and spend the night in their dorm. Free booze was a plus.”

“We’re in the same boat then,” You said, gazing up at him through your lashes. “We’re both jilted lovers who need a distraction.”

You tilted the bottom of the bottle up, chugging down the contents. When you were done, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and rolled your neck out. “Bottoms up,” you said with a coy smile. “Let’s find something stronger.”

——

An hour later, something by the Pussycat Dolls was blaring through a set of speakers in a darkened common area. You were the fun kind of tipsy, where you started to care less about everyone else and just found yourself buzzed in that light, easy kind of way. You danced to the beat without a care in the world while Patrick sat on the arm of a couch and nursed his beer. 

His eyes were glued to your body as you moved, almost hypnotic beneath the red Christmas lights that had been stapled around the ceiling. Your shirt had ridden up, revealing a sliver of stomach that you either didn’t notice or didn’t care to cover up. 

The only thought running through his head? Art was a fucking idiot. 

You glanced over at him and nodded for him to join you. He didn’t move, so, not one to give up, you joined him over on the couch. When he went for a drink, you tipped up the bottom of the beer can and forced him to finish it, even as it spilled past his lips and down his chin. 

“Thanks,” he deadpanned, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. 

With a pleased smile, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the middle of the room to dance.

He shook his head as you tried to make him dance— your hands on his hips, pushing and pulling and trying and failing to make him move. “No, no. I don’t dance,” he explained, as firmly as he could stand to be.

“Because you can’t? Or because you think you’re too cool?” You asked, raising a brow. He rolled his eyes, a smile playing at his lips. “C’mon, if you dance, I’ll tell you a secret.”

That did make him laugh. “What are you, five?”

With a shrug, you took his hands into yours and moved them to your hips. There was a hesitance in his touch, at first. But then his fingers splayed against exposed skin, and you were so warm. Your hips began moving to the beat beneath his hands. “See? We’re dancing,” you said, peering up at him through long lashes.

You looked genuinely victorious when he finally started dancing… kind of. It was less of an action and more of an acceptance. It had been abundantly obvious since the moment he walked into your dorm room that you wanted to end the night with him. Maybe it was because you thought it would hurt Art, or maybe it was because he was there and he was feeling the exact same things you were.

He’d done his best to resist out of some lingering sense that he could repair things with Tashi, and the hope that maybe Art’s spite would fade and they’d be friends again.

Despite skipping the whole college thing, Patrick wasn’t an idiot. He knew better. The second Tashi fell on that court, both of those doors slammed in his face.

And you were so close to him that he could smell the liquor on your breath. And Victoria’s Secret body spray. Mostly the liquor, though. He was barely moving, but you— you were something else. Hips moving against the thigh he’d slotted between your legs, arms trailing up his chest so you could sling them around his neck, pulling yourself impossibly closer. Even though you were grinding against each other like two horny middle-schoolers at their first dance, he’d had enough to drink that he didn’t really give a fuck. When he moved his hands from your hips to grab your ass, you gasped and laughed like it was the best thing in the world.

Your body moved so effortlessly that anything he could have possibly done would’ve looked clunky and clumsy. He groaned when you brushed against him just right, and he could tell by your smug expression that you knew exactly how you were affecting him. 

You leaned in, chest to chest. “Can I tell you the secret now?” You whispered, lips brushing against the line of his jaw. He swallowed hard and nodded. “I think it’d be a bad idea for us to fuck. We’re both in a bad place.”

“Mhmm. Bad idea,” he echoed. He wanted to reach out and grab your jaw, to tilt your face up and kiss you. One of your hands had slipped beneath the hem of his (Tashi’s) shirt, just barely teasing the skin there. It made him shiver and lean into the heat of your touch.

“But I still want to.” You sounded so earnest, so needy. Like you’d take anything he’d give you and thank him for it. “We can use each other to feel better, right? Just a nice, warm body and a rush of dopamine.”

It was exactly what Patrick had come to the fucking dorm rager for. To feel wanted and desired. For someone to look at him like he wasn’t actively failing at the one thing he was supposed to be the best at. 

But he was good at other things.

You guided him through the crowded hallway, way more packed than they had been before you’d started dancing. It was getting later, more people were falling for the siren song of R&B and beer. You were a siren of a different making— with much more dangerous consequences than a hangover.

It almost felt wrong to be back in your innocent, frilly little dorm with the intention of fucking your brains out. But the looks you were giving him were enough proof that he wasn’t the only pervert. Before you could get too far, he pinned you up against the door, displacing a dry-erase calendar in the process. 

You glanced down, eyes flitting towards the hearts around tomorrow’s date, anticipating the formal that Art had flaked on. Without looking back, you kicked the dry-erase board out of the way, a problem for later. 

His lips met yours in a messy clash— teeth knocking slightly until you found a rhythm with each other. Patrick Zweig kissed like he’d been at war for fucking years and had just returned home. He kissed like he had crawled out of the desert and the only promise of water could be found on your tongue. 

You’d never been kissed with that level of need and desperation— that desire— and you fucking loved it. The taste of his tongue licking into your mouth, the rumble of a moan against your own lips.

His hands were moving beneath your shirt, pushing it up as he went. A pretty whine slipped past your spit-slick lips as he squeezed your tits over your bra. Your hands stayed busy undoing his jeans. He moaned into your mouth when your fingers barely brushed against the bulge through the denim. 

“That feel good?” You teased, practically breathing the words into his lungs as you slipped your hand into his boxers. He groaned in response as your hand wrapped around him and pumped slowly.  There was something addicting about his need— you relished in the pulse of him, warm and bucking into your grip. And you wanted more. You wanted to be the one to make him come undone. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

His head fell back slightly as you brushed your thumb along his tip, the movement accompanied by another soft groan. The way you peered up at him with an earnest need to please made hot desire thrum within him.

“You could start by taking these clothes off,” he said, fingers roaming to tug at the strap of your bra. You started to move, slipping your hand from his boxers. Then you stopped.

“You’re not gonna help?” You asked coyly, goosebumps forming where his fingers trailed along your side, teasing at the band of the bra. 

That made a tiny smirk turn at his lips. “Does Art help?” It shouldn’t have turned him on— that little flash of longing for Art in your eyes. But it did. You nodded, shifting slightly to encourage more of Patrick’s touch. “Lift your arms.”

As easy as anything, you obeyed. No banter, no push and pull for control. It was so different than what he had with Tashi (who he shouldn’t have been thinking about), and he couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how it always was for you and Art (who he shouldn’t have been thinking about either). 

He tossed your shirt to the side and moved a single hand to the clasp of your bra, undoing it with a quick movement that he’d perfected at sixteen. Painstakingly slow, he pushed each strap down your arms, until it fell at your feet and exposed your tits to the overzealous AC of the Stanford dorms. 

Your nipples pebbled in the cool air, and his mouth watered in a near-Pavlovian response to the sight. His hands moved back to your chest, so he could thumb over the sensitive buds and relish in the way you shivered.

The wood of the door was cold against your shoulders as you arched into his touch. Manicured nails fumbled with the button to your jeans— you twisted and shimmied them off before kicking them to the side.

Before you could react, he picked you up and carried you over to the bed. A grin played at your lips as he practically dropped you onto it, making a decorative pillow fall to the floor. 

“It was only, like, five steps,” you said with a laugh. Patrick shrugged and made quick work of his clothes. You sat up on your elbows to watch him shuck off his pants, then awkwardly hop on one foot at a time to remove his shoes and socks.

When he finally joined you on the bed, he was clad only in his boxers, which were sporting an almost comically large tent. He positioned himself over you, that shit-eating grin ever present on his face. “Can I go down on you?”

You laughed lightly in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”

He nodded. “As a heart attack.” He nuzzled against your jaw teasingly. “C’mon, lemme make you feel good, okay? I live for this shit.”

You giggled, pushing his face away. “Yeah. Fuck. You can.”

He trailed his lips down your jaw, then your sternum. He stopped only briefly to suck each nipple into his mouth, making you squirm and arch into him. Your hand moved into his hair, and he moaned against your tit as you tugged slightly. 

You watched him kiss down your stomach and peel your panties down your legs with his teeth through half-lidded eyes. Your cunt clenched around nothing as he slowly kissed up one leg.

The sight made your stomach flip— the sheer desire of it all. Your mind flickered to Tashi, as it seemed to do more and more. Tashi got this same sight, felt the same lips on her skin, and heard the same groans and pants. You could’ve laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all. At that moment, with Patrick on top of you, you were closer to Tashi than Art could even dream of.

A tap on the inside of your thigh was his wordless way of telling you to open up for him, to get out of your head and come back to earth. Your tummy fluttered as you spread your legs more and he slotted himself there with an arm slung across your stomach. 

“Fuck,” he said lowly, peering up at you. “You get this wet from just kissing?”

Heat burned in your cheeks at his obvious amusement, but you could tell he loved how responsive you were. His tongue traced you from your hole to your clit, making you cry out and twist your fingers into his curls. Quick, teasing flicks against your clit made your thighs tremble and squeeze around his shoulders. You were so fucking sensitive that it made him want to tear you apart.

It was messy— a sloppy mix of his spit and your arousal as he made out with your pussy. His nose brushed against your clit as he nuzzled deeper into you, moaning as his fervor was rewarded with more of your juices spilling onto his tongue. 

There was no method or precision to it, even though you were quite sure he could’ve had you coming undone beneath his fingers in no time at all. Patrick relished in every tiny reaction— in feeling your thighs around his head and your fingers in his hair. Relished in the taste of you on his tongue and the feeling of your slick smeared across his face. 

Your back was arching off the bed, nails digging just shy of painfully into his scalp. 

He opened you up with one finger, then a second. Your cunt accepted the intrusion with ease, like you were made for it. For him. He crooked his fingers just so and you cried out pathetically. He pressed there, constant and firmly and your fingers tugged harder on his hair, moans increasing in pitch as your breaths came in pants. 

“I’m— I— fuck—“ words failed you as his lips formed a seal around your clit and he sucked, making spots dance across your vision. In the absence of words, all you could manage were fucked out sobs and pitiful little whines.

Slick walls fluttered around his fingers, and your clit pulsed against his tongue. You were so easy to get worked up— a toy for him to wind up and set into motion. You came with a moan that would’ve made a weaker man cum inside of his boxers, your cunt spasming around the intrusion of his fingers. 

When he sat back and cleaned his fingers in his mouth, you were watching through half-lidded, hazy eyes. Tiny pieces of hair were plastered to your face and forehead, and you gave a breathless giggle as you looked up at him. 

“Holy shit,” you said with a grin as he shucked off his boxers and kicked them off somewhere across the room. 

“Feel good?” He asked, and pressed a kiss to your hip bone. You nodded wordlessly, feeling dizzy with need. “Gonna give me another one?”

“Yeah,” you said breathlessly, peering up at him with wide eyes. The tip of his nose was shiny with your arousal, which made warmth spread across your cheeks. With a sheepish laugh, you reached up and wiped it away with your thumb. There wasn’t much you could do about the mess on his mouth and chin. “You’re all messy.”

He kissed you slow— leaving his tongue against yours, making you taste yourself mixed with his spit. It was less of a kiss than a series of slow laves of his tongue against yours. It felt dirty, and a little gross, but you couldn’t help but relish in it. You’d never kissed Art like that, would’ve never even dreamed of it. Patrick was an entirely different animal. 

You stayed like that for a while— just completely lost in the feel of him warm on top of you, grinding his cock against your cunt as he planted messy kisses to your lips. 

“Condom?” He mumbled the words against your lips when he finally grew impatient.

“Mhmm. Bedside table.”

He fumbled inside the drawer, grabbing glasses cleaning wipes two seperate times before he finally found a foil packet in the bottom of the drawer.  

He held it between two fingers, an amused smile playing on his lips. “You sure this’ll fit me? I’m bigger than Art.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not by that much.”

“Where it counts, though.” His smirk was smarmy as he tore open the foil with his teeth and rolled the condom down his length. He spat in his hand and stroked himself as he peered down at you, like he hadn’t quite decided how he wanted you yet. 

“Turn over,” he finally said with a pat to the meat of your thigh. You did as he said, almost hesitant as you turned over and settled onto your forearms, arching your back slightly. “Does Art ever fuck you like this?”

He held the head of his cock at your entrance, teasing you with the tiniest amount of pressure. You took in a shaky breath and shifted, eager for more that he wasn’t going to give you yet. “Do you have to bring him up right now?”

No. He knew he really didn’t, but he couldn’t help himself at the same time. The thought of his Art in this same bed with you made it all so much hotter for him. He wanted to know how Art had fucked you, he wanted every detail burned in his brain. He wanted to be better, or maybe just be there with the two of you. 

It had gotten close. Once. Art was definitely fingering you under a blanket while the three of you watched a movie on his laptop across the room. Patrick’s thigh was touching yours— he could feel the way your muscles tensed and shook as Art played with you. He was close enough to hear the hitch of your breath. 

And if that hadn’t been enough to give it away, Art’s stupid fucking smirk and the obvious way his arm was moving would have.

He didn’t do anything then, but maybe he should’ve. 

“I’ll take that as a no.” He was slow as he sank into you, inch by inch. It could’ve been the position, or maybe his cocky bravado was completely founded, but he did feel bigger than you were used to. A soft moan was punched from your lips when he was finally buried to the hilt— your breath came in soft pants as you adjusted to the feeling of him. 

With your face pressed into your pillows, each breath you took flooded your senses with the smell of Art’s cologne. You moaned softly, eyes fluttering shut as your thoughts were overwhelmed with him.

“Shit, you’re fuckin’ tight,” he groaned. His fingers dimpled your skin where he held onto you. He moved one hand to rub the base of your spine in a way that could probably have been tender, on another day. You moaned pathetically into the pillows. “What? You need something?” 

One shallow, teasing thrust made your toes curl. “More,” was all you could manage.

“Can you take it?” Patrick cooed, smugness was practically dripping from his tongue. “Because I can go slow if you need—“

“You’re such an asshole. Just fuck m—”

A rough snap of Patrick’s hips cut you off suddenly. You cried out, grasping onto the bedspread feebly as he began to fuck you in earnest. 

Each thrust made the cheap, university-provided bed frame slam against the wall. The decorations you had hung up rattled, threatening to tumble right onto the floor and shatter, but neither of you even noticed. The moans slipping past your lips were pornographic.

But the sounds escaping you were nothing compared to the noises Patrick was making. Art had made an off-handed comment, once, about how much of a slut Patrick could be. You hadn’t really seen why until you got to hear the desperate, debauched noises he could make.

You slipped a hand between your thighs to rub at your clit and the feeling stole the air from your lungs. Your eyes rolled back, ass jiggling in time with each thrust.

Through it all, the memory of Art in this bed clung to you. Art, burying himself in the soft, wet heat between your thighs, flushed down to his chest and panting softly. His hungry kisses, melting sweet on your tongue like cotton candy. The whines that slipped past his lips, better than the prettiest music you could imagine. 

With each brutal thrust of Patrick’s cock into you, he punched out soft ah, ah, ahs from your lips. In your head, you just heard Art, Art, Art. Maybe that’s what you meant to say. 

You were probably in love with him. You were fucking his best friend. And it wasn’t even that simple. Patrick and Art and Tashi and somewhere between it all, you lingered. It was a giant clusterfuck of feelings and lust that you’d somehow tangled yourself inside of. Wanting someone so much, you want whoever has them just as badly. 

Maybe everything would’ve been a lot cleaner if you’d just locked the four of you into a room and stayed until every bit of tension had been fucked out. The idea of it all made you moan softly into the pillows. 

Patrick pulled you up suddenly, back flush against his chest as he continued to fuck into you. One hand grabbed at your jaw, turning you so he could press his lips to yours again, and the other squeezed at your tits. His mouth did a perfect job of muffling your moans— Patrick relished in feeling your pretty whines vibrate against his lips. 

“You feel so fucking perfect.” His words made heat flutter through you. “Need t’ feel you cum again. You have it in you, yeah? I can feel it.”

You nodded, eager to please. Pleasure was lapping at every nerve, lightning-hot. Your fingers rubbed faster at your clit as he pounded up into you. The whines escaping you were pathetic as your body crawled closer and closer to the edge. 

“Close,” you gasped out. Patrick licked into your open mouth, kissing you sloppily as you set a punishing pace on your poor, oversensitive clit. “So close— f-fuck—“

Your orgasm hit you suddenly. You clawed at his arm with your free hand, desperately seeking purchase as euphoria pulsed through your veins. 

“That’s it,” he groaned, his breath hot against your jaw. “Fuck— squeezin’ me so tight I can barely move— god—“

Your eyes were half-lidded as he worked you through it, rhythm only just beginning to falter as his finish approached. He pushed you back onto your stomach, manhandling your hips so your back was arched just like he wanted. 

You were reduced to whimpers and whines by the time he finally came— buried as deep as he could get, grip bruising on your hips. A few shallow thrusts were all he could manage before he pulled out, collapsing on beside you. 

You were catching your breath while he disposed of the condom in the cute trash can beside your bed, filled with gummy snack wrappers and broken pencils and old class notes. It felt like sacrilege. He laid back down, and you pulled a throw blanket over the two of you. 

With his head against the pillows, you wondered if he could also sense the phantom of Art’s presence there in the bed. Somewhere between you, forcing distance.

“So, when do you leave for your next tournament?” You asked. Unconsciously, you reached out to play with his hair, the same way you did to Art in times like these. “Soon, I bet. You usually don’t stay long.”

“Trying to get rid of me?” He asked, a tiny smile playing at his lips. His chest was still heaving with exertion. 

You shook your head. “I don’t want to get rid of you, Patrick.” He melted into your touch, eyes fluttering shut. 

In the morning, you’d wake up squished against Patrick’s side with the taste of sugary alcohol on your tongue. When you picked up your phone to see three missed calls from Art, it was easier to pretend that you hadn’t seen them at all.

thanks for reading :) if you enjoyed, please lmk by sending an ask, or whatever you wanna do <3

#challengers 2024 #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson fanfic #patrick zweig fanfic #challengers fanfic #my writing

[hurlingdown]

Ima eat you and your writing it’s so good can I please get a whiny sub Luffy x domtop male reader who’s like kinda tall I’m talking a tad bit shorter then brook type tall you can ignore if this is too specific 👍 love your work

eat you up (top male reader, nsfw)

tags: whiny!sub!luffy who loves how big reader is, in terms of size and cock, anal sex, size kink, virginity loss, cum eating, tongue-fucking, blowjob, he has no gag reflex, luffy being luffy, bit fluffy ngl

Luffy revelled in your size difference. 

The way you towered over him, your large hands being able to completely encircle his waist. Not to mention, you made such a good makeshift bed that he just couldn’t help but snuggle into your lap most afternoons, just to take a fat nap. 

You never really minded, as it didn’t interfere with your routine. Plus, having a lap warmer with you anywhere you went was undeniably a huge bonus. 

Today was one of those afternoons. 

Luffy hummed a song, squirming on your lap to find a comfortable position for his nap. You didn’t think much of it at first, until he started shifting about, his back pressed against your chest to directly sit on your cock. 

You froze, feeling the heat rush to your face, and somewhere else—it didn’t help that the rubber captain never kept still. Still, you couldn’t find it in you to push him off, as he had looked up at you with an adorably blinding grin, his gummy smile having wormed its way into your heart long ago. 

“Luffy,” you began awkwardly. 

“You’re hard today.” 

You spluttered. “I’m what today?” 

He turned around in your lap to blink innocently at you. “You’re harder than usual today, y/n!” 

“Oh. Haha… I am, aren’t I?” You let out a breath of relief. It hadn’t occurred to you that Luffy quite possibly didn’t know about that sort of stuff; or perhaps wasn’t interested in all, seeing as he never bat an eye to the beautiful, well-endowed Boa Hancock who practically threw herself at him at every chance. 

You were absorbed in your thoughts until you felt a hand palm your hard cock roughly. 

“Luffy!” Your hips bucked upwards, nearly throwing him off your lap. “What was that for—” 

“So yours does the same thing, too. Shishi, I thought my dick was broken when I touched it and it turned hard!” 

Oh. So he had touched himself before. Guess you could save yourself from having to give ‘the talk’ to an absolute airhead. 

“Wow,” Luffy continued to squeeze and fondle your cock through the thin layer of your pants, making you bite your lip to suppress a groan. “You’re pretty big!” 

“Captain,” you snapped, finally, glaring at him as he pouted. “This isn’t appropriate.” 

“But why not?” he protested, still not releasing his death-grip on your cock. 

“This—we—aren’t in that sort of relationship.” 

Luffy simply frowned. “Do we have to be in a relationship to touch each other’s dicks?” 

“Well, no, but—” 

“Good!” 

Before he went back to straight-up kneading your poor cock, you grabbed his wrists and bound them behind his back with one hand. 

“But why?” he whined loudly, bottom lip jutting out as he stared up at you. “I want to! You gotta let me! I’m the captain!” 

You sighed. “You may be my captain, but that doesn’t mean you get to take advantage of your superiority to sexually harass me whenever you want.” 

“I’m not sensually harassing you, or whatever that is!” 

“It’s ‘sexually harass’, not sensually harass. And—why do you even want to do this in the first place? You’ve never acted like this before when you napped on me before.” 

“I just suddenly want to! What’s the matter with that?!” Luffy looked petulant, almost angry as he couldn’t get what he wanted, and he retracted one of his legs hooked around your waist to tramp on your cock. 

You let out a guttural moan at that, and Luffy’s eyes had widened visibly, as though he wanted to hear more. 

“Hey, y/n? My dick’s hard.” 

“Is this what you wanted, baby?” 

Luffy’s knees were pressed into the mattress above his shoulders, making good use of his stretchiness as he shudders and whines a response beneath you. His hole is stretched perfectly around your cock, warm and wet and tight, taking you to the brim so well. 

“Y-yeah, puh—please!” he wailed desperately, raking his nails on your back as you angled your hips, thrusting up into his sweet spot. “So—so big—ah!” 

“There it is.” You grinned, hands fully wrapping around his waist to tug him back onto your cock like a ragdoll, perfectly nailing his prostate again. “Think we found it, mm?” 

Luffy nodded his head weakly, trembling all over as you railed him into the mattress with each heavy thrust, before dragging him back. “Feels really g-good! Right—right there!” 

“Here, captain?” You purposefully missed, tip of your cock barely grazing it, and he whined shamelessly. 

“No! Not there!” he moaned, shaking his head in frustration as he looked at you with pleading eyes. “Y/n, I need it s-so bad!” 

You would have never thought that Luffy was capable of such dirty talking. But right now—with your captain willingly spreading his legs for you, hole stretched wide open and insides rearranging themselves to fit your huge cock, you couldn’t even process it except for how good it felt. 

“And what’s the magic word, love?” 

“M-magic word?” He blinks at you confusedly. “I don’t know any—any magic word! I’m not—a magician, ah, silly!” 

Warmth curled in your chest at how utterly ridiculous Luffy was, and you gave a little laugh, before leaning down to kiss him. Luffy kissed you back with eagerness, biting and sucking impatiently at your lower lip. As you fucked your tongue into that pliant little mouth of his, mirroring your cock’s every thrust, he had sucked on it and moaned around it, drool spilling down the sides of his mouth as though it felt heavenly for him. 

“So full…” Luffy whimpered around your tongue, eyes rolling back in ecstasy—and you couldn’t pinpoint which hole he was referring to. 

You reeled back after a long kiss, going back to pounding into him as he whined for “harder”, for “more”, and “wanting to eat the funny liquid that comes out of your cock”. 

Your breath hitched in surprise as you realised what Luffy meant. “Want me to cum down your throat, baby? That what you want?” You could feel yourself getting closer and closer, his warm, spongy walls pulsating around you every time you pulled back, as though wanting to keep you inside forever. 

“Yes, yes—wanna, wanna know what you taste like, y/n!” he babbled mindlessly, clinging on to your shoulders as you flattened the head of your cock against his prostate, grinding hard and deliberately. “Ugh, ugh—it feels weird—” 

“Yeah? You gonna come for me, sweetheart? Fucking do it—cum on my cock, captain.” 

With the mention of his title, Luffy’s eyes squeezed shut before his head lolled back with a loud, drawn-out moan, body jerking violently and cock spurting all over his chest and abdomen. His hole clenched around you as tight as sin, and you had to hold back with all your willpower to not come on the spot. 

Luffy panted, still twitching beneath you as he raised one shaky finger, bringing it up to his face to point into his open mouth. Asking silently. 

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, but once you got the green light, you rammed back into his twitching hole, no longer prioritising his pleasure over yours, only able to process how divine it felt to be making love to your captain. As you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm, you pulled out of his hole all of a sudden and plunged your cock into his ready, parted mouth, cumming so hard down his throat you felt yourself ascend. 

Luffy’s lips wrapped around the base of your cock, sucking hard and milking you throughout your orgasm. You groaned, low and deep, thrusting messily into tight wet heat as cum steadily dribbled down a vacuum, as though insatiable. 

You released your hold on his hair as you felt yourself go soft, staring incredulously down at a red-faced Luffy who was sucking at you as if he was trying to swallow your entire cock. 

“Luff,” you huffed, gently wiping away a line of his own cum that had somehow splattered on his collarbones. “That’s enough.” 

It was then that he finally pulled back, frantically sucking air through his mouth. “I—I couldn’t taste it,” he whined, the corners of his lips turning down unhappily. “Your cum, or whatever. I couldn’t taste it and it went down my throat!” 

Oh. Oh. 

You suppressed a laugh—because that was what he was being prissy about. Caressing his face affectionately, you went to lay down beside him. “I’m sorry. Next time I’ll just put the tip inside.” 

“It’s fine. I felt full enough.” 

Luffy had to stop dropping these one-liners that made you gape. 

“What? Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” He looked at you, frowning with confusion. “Y’know, this almost made me as full as the banquet-thingy Sanji put together last week. There was so much yummy food! Your dick was really good, too, though—so don’t get jealous.” 

You really had to get used to the way Luffy talked—because he talked way too much and it drove you absolutely crazy. In an almost ‘too good’ way. This had to stop. 

“Luffy.” You pulled him into your arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he giggled happily. “Stop talking.”  masterlist! p.s. luffy is such a fun character to write lol

#top male reader #dom male reader #luffy x male reader #monkey d luffy x male reader #monkey d luffy x reader #luffy x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x male reader #top reader #dom reader #male reader #x male reader #bottom character #monkey d. luffy #bottom male character #one piece smut #no beta we die like ace

[uzurakis]

HERE TO SEND YOU BLUELOCK HEAD CANNONS! >:D

Can you do headcannons of the guys and how they would be like if they were teaching us how to play soccer? Hope this is interesting for you ^^, if you're interested to make them thanks in advance!

TEACHING YOU SOCCER?!

featuring: michael kaiser. itoshi rin. oliver aiku. isagi yoichi. bachira meguru.

n. yees darling, i was invested to write this (it's a challenging one because i don't really play soccer myself). hope i nailed it though, thank you to u too <3

MICHAEL KAISER. "nice shot!" kaiser exclaimed, clapping you on the back. "but don't get too cocky, mein liebling."

"learned from the best, i guess," you teased, nodding toward kaiser. "after all, my boyfriend's the world's number one striker, hmm?"

kaiser's eyes widened in mock surprise, a beam spreading across his face. "well, when you put it that way," he said, puffing out his chest with pride and sliding back his golden locks. "i suppose i am pretty amazing."

"ah, but if i'm the world's number one striker," he continued, trying to tease you with words, "then that must mean you have to kneel before me, right?"

you lifted an eyebrow, unable to stop snickering at his exaggerated claim. "huh, is that so?" playing along with his joke. "i guess i'll have to remember to bow down to the soccer king himself."

the guy grinned, clearly enjoying the playful exchange. "that's more like it," now his voice filled with mock superiority, typical kaiser. "but don't worry, i'll be a generous king."

ITOSHI RIN. "fine, i'll try my best, but just so you know, i'm not really good at teaching," rin confessed, feeling apologetic because he’s not used to teaching others. and now, his girlfriend wants to learn how to play soccer.

rin took a deep breath, trying to muster up some confidence as he began to explain the basics of dribbling. "uh, alright, first, dribbling. just try to keep the ball close to your feet for now," he instructed, a bit hesitant.

"oi, dont look at me, look at the ball," he reminded you. "sorry," you chuckled, truly didn't realize you weren't paying attention. come on, just look at him. "if i’m being honest, you look really hot like this," you teased, but, it’s true though!

rin's cheeks flushed slightly at your comment, but he quickly regained his composure. "focus," he replied. though there was a hint of annoyance, you couldn't help but sneak a glance at rin's face as he continued to give you instructions, his cheeks flushed slightly from your earlier comment.

suddenly, rin's voice broke through your reverie, snapping you back to reality. "i said focus!"

OLIVER AIKU. "keep your eye on the ball and follow through with your kick," aiku instructed while you attempted to pass the ball to him.

even when you struggled or made mistakes, aiku remained patient and supportive, offering gentle guidance to help you improve. "try to angle your foot a bit more next time," he suggested, as you missed the mark with your pass. "you're doing great, sweetie. just keep practicing."

by the end of the session, you were exhausted but thankful for aiku's patience and support. he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, a proud smile on his lips.

"you're making progress, sweetie," he soothed, genuine and affectionate. "with a little more practice, you'll beat me out here."

BACHIRA MEGURU. "okaaay, let's start with some dribbling drills," he said, bachira was overjoyed since this meant he had another friend to play soccer with. "try to keep the ball under control as you move around me, kaay?"

you nodded, determined to give it your best shot. as you began to dribble the ball, you stumbled a bit, but bachira was quick to offer a push. "nice job, baby! you're getting the hang of it," he cheered, clapping his hands in support.

with each effort, you gained confidence and dribbled past bachira with greater ease. bachira congratulated you on your small wins every time you successfully escaped him. "woah, that was awesome! baby, i’m so happy!" he exclaimed, giving you a high-five.

"great effort, babes! keep it up, and you'll get it," he encouraged, his words filling you with determination. “lets keep playing together!”

ISAGI YOICHI. "hey, it's okay," isagi said gently, stepping closer to you. "here, let me show you."

he moved behind you and gently guided your legs into the correct position, his touch firm yet gentle. "see? keep your body low and your touches light," he explained, moving your legs in rhythm with the ball. "you've got this, angel.”

with isagi's guidance, you began to feel more confident, dribbling the ball with increasing control. whenever you made a mistake, your boyfriend always offered gentle correction and encouragement.

"nice try, but try to keep the ball closer to your feet," he would say, his tone encouraging. "like this," demonstrating the correct form before guiding your legs to mimic his movements.

@uzurakis

#.writing #blue lock #blue lock fluff #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #bllk x reader #bllk scenarios #bllk x you #bllk rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #bllk kaiser #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x reader #blue lock kaiser #oliver aiku #blue lock oliver #bllk oliver #oliver aiku x reader #bachira meguru #bllk bachira #bachira x reader #bachira meguru x reader #isagi yoichi #blue lock isagi #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader #blue lock michael kaiser

[awakenedevildays]

「quarrels and sofas」 Art Donaldson x F!reader

TW: angst, smut (minors DNI), fighting, jealousy, insecurities

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

Art knew it was a terrible idea to properly introduce you to Patrick right away, from the moment he saw how his best friend looked at you up and down he knew he was in for troubles. Even more when Patrick "kindly" offered to teach you how to play tennis while "your boyfriend was busy". 

You agreed happily almost immediately: with Tashi busy with her professional tennis career, and you with yours, you didn't have much time to see each other, and when you did you tried to disconnect from your jobs by doing other things and that resulted in not playing that much anymore, expect with Art sometimes.

"your girlfriend is really cute by the way, how come I didn't realize it when we met her years ago" he teased Art after you excused yourself to go to the bathroom of the restaurant. 

Art knew where the conversation was going, but decided not to respond to his best friend's taunts "you didn't realize she was cute? It's your bad I guess" he replied in a snarky way, his fingers playing with his glass "besides, she's been cute since forever, what are you even talking about?" Art asked.

Patrick snickered a little at Art's response, taking a sip of his glass while he kept his eyes on him.

"Oh don't play dumb with me. She's always been on the cute side, but come on... she's seriously gorgeous now. You're so lucky and you don't even realize it" he replied back, a mischievous grin on his face growing as he continued to tease Art.

Art feels anger rise in his body, why did he always feel like he had to compete against Patrick? 

Patrick could feel the tension between them and continues to push further "You should be glad she's still loyal to you. She could easily leave your ass if she wanted to, bet she has tons of men after her" he replies with a smug smile, knowing fully well he was pushing Art to his limit.

"Yeah well, unlike you I know how to treat my girlfriend right" he bit back, his smile growing. 

Patrick's smile faded a little at the reference to his past relationship with Tashi, but he quickly regained his composure and a smirk formed on his lips "Oh please, I know how to treat women just fine. Tashi simply just couldn't handle me" he said with a laugh, trying to brush off the topic.

Art's frowned his eyebrows in fake confusion, his smile turning into a thin line "Oh... my bad, I heard it went differently, from what I know.. it was you who couldn't keep up with her". 

Patrick raised an eyebrow at Art's response, his smirk faltering slightly as he tried to keep his cool.

"You've heard wrong then. It was Tashi who couldn't handle my life as a successful businessman." he retorted with a hint of defensiveness in his voice, trying to deflect the truth with arrogance.

Art was going to answer but a voice interrupted him "excuse me, I'll leave you the bill" the waitress said leaving the small receipt holder on the table, both men smiled as she walked away. 

Art took his wallet to pay and Patrick didn't bother to stop the blond as he slid the money inside of the card holder before leaving it on the table for the waitress to take. 

Then, Art takes a sip of his beer, his eyes never leaving Patrick's "stay away from her Patrick, I mean it" he warned. 

Patrick rolled his eyes at Art's warning "Oh, come on Art. I'm just being friendly. What's the harm in that?" he replied with a smirk, clearly not taking him seriously. 

"I know what you're trying to do, I know you". 

Patrick leaned back in his seat, his smirk widening at Art's accusation. "And what exactly do you know, Art?" he asked with feigned innocence, though his eyes gleamed with mischievous intent.

"I know you can't stand seeing me happy while you're not" he replied immediately and Patrick couldn't help but scoff at Art's words. 

"Oh please, I'm perfectly happy in my single life. I don't need a relationship to make me happy" he replies with a dismissive wave of his hand, though there's a hint of bitterness in his tone.

Art leans on his chair "sure you don't, but don't try to ruin mine too" his smile didn't reach his eyes. 

"Ruin your relationship? Who said anything about ruining your relationship?" Patrick asked with a hint of sarcasm, feigning innocence once again. "I'm just being friendly, Art. I don't have any ulterior motives" he added, maintaining his smile but his eyes betrayed his true intentions.

Before Art could answer you are next to him again "sorry, what did I miss?" you asked innocently, Art's arm wrapped around your shoulder while his other hand takes your fingers in his to play with them. 

Patrick's gaze flickered from you to Art, observing the two of you with a subtle feeling of irritation before he plastered a charming smile on his face. "Ah, nothing much. We were just catching up, talking about old times" he replied smoothly, though his gaze lingered on your hand enclosed in Art's, a flicker of envy in his eyes. Art looked at you and smiled, "nothing important" he said, brushing off the conversation to shift his focus back to you. 

"we should go baby, we have to wake up early tomorrow" Art says and stands up, you mimic his action. 

"Oh yeah, that's right" you said, slightly puzzled but you quickly brushed it off and leaned into Art's side, giving him a soft smile. Patrick watched the two of you raise from your seats, his smile still on his face "alright then, it was nice catching up" he said standing up as well, giving Art a nod before his gaze went back to you. "It was really nice to see you again" he added, his voice carrying a hint of flirtation you didn’t seem to notice, but Art did. 

"It was nice seeing you too Patrick, I'll text you for that tennis lesson, ok?" Patrick briefly looked at Art and smiled "can't wait, good night". 

Art's grip on you tightened momentarily, his expression tense but he quickly regained his composure to give Patrick a curt nod in return. "Good night" he replied shortly before leading you out of the restaurant, his arm remained protectively around your shoulders. 

Now, a few weeks later, Art leans with crossed arms at the doorframe and watches you getting ready for bed. He can't stop thinking how Patrick looked at you during that dinner and he can't imagine what his eyes saw while you played together, how he probably glanced at your legs and checked you out.

"So how was your match with Patrick?" He hopes you don't hear the jealousy out of his voice. 

"it was good, how was your day baby?" you decide to ignore his jealous tone, you kiss his lips when you pass by him to go to the bathroom.

He kisses you back, smiling when your lips touched his but he can't help thinking of Patrick right now. 

"My day was good," he says "what did you and Patrick do after your practice?" He asks while he changes from his jeans to a jogging pants.

"he gave me a ride here" you shrug.

He tries to hold a neutral mimic by hearing that but his jealousy is too much to not say anything about it. 

"I could've picked you up, baby" he tells you while he sits down on your bed waiting for you to finish brushing your teeth.

"I didn't want to bother you, and we were already together" you explain to calm him down but it's not working as you hoped it would.

You can see his knuckles turning white "it's not about bothering me. It's about you and Patrick together, alone. I don't like him". 

You look at him shocked "what do you mean? he is your best friend Art" you exclaim incredulous. 

"he just has a thing for you and it's obvious and I don't like it" It's like you can touch his anger, it's filling the whole room.

He can't stop imagining how Patrick might have touched you when he wasn't there, how he looked at you... just thinking that he might have looked at you the same way he did during the dinner is making him crazy. 

"I don't want you to see him anymore" he states and his arms cross in front of his chest and you scoff. 

"you're being ridiculous Art, he didn't try to do anything" you say and finally look at him from the bathroom. 

He starts to raise his voice and you can see the veins on his forehead throbbing "don't you see he has a thing for you?! You think he's such a good friend helping you play better? He doesn't give a damn about that, and you're just too naive to see that. He's just waiting for a chance to be with you" he snaps and stands from the bed. 

"I'm sorry are you trying to say I'm cheating on you?" you ask and you really hope he's going to deny it. 

 "I'm saying I'm tired of seeing you give attention to every single male that flirts with you, I mean how much attention do you need, are you really that desperate?" he snaps and immediately regrets what he just said, your hurt expression makes him shut his mouth.

He sighs and walks towards you, but just as he arrives in front of  you take a step back, tears swelling in your eyes and Art's heart clenches in his chest.

How can he explain to you that there is a voice in his head that tells him, every time you look at him, that he doesn't deserve you? that you could find someone better than him? that what Patrick had told him had affected him more than he wants to admit and that he is as terrified of losing you as he is terrified of few other things in the world?

"you're being unfair Art, you know I didn't cheat on you" you defend yourself but your voice tremble and it's difficult for Art to hear you. 

"I know, I'm sor-" but you don't listen to him.  

"I never, ever, gave you a reason not to trust me," your voice raises, you feel so hurt by him right now, you thought his trust in you was stronger than this. 

"I know, I'm sorry you're right, it's just that... Patrick told me some thing last time at dinner and insecurities got the best of me! I'm sorry, I really am baby, its just that..." he tries to explain what he is feeling "every time I look at you I always think you are too much for me, that you could find someone better than me and that you could leave me at any given moment, I love you so much it makes me crazy... Please forgive me" he takes your face in his hands but you don't look at him,  you can't bring yourself to feel sorry for him right now, you're way more hurt than he is. 

"but this is not the right way to show me Art, what you are saying it's unfair, I never, ever gave you a reason to doubt my loyalty towards you and our relationship" you take his hands off of your face. 

You are right, he knows you are, but his thoughts just won him over this time. He gently pulls you closer by wrapping his arms around your waist, he starts kissing you on your jawline and down your neck but you don't hug him back. 

"I..am so sorry baby. You have every right to feel hurt by what I just said and did. Please forgive me, I really am sorry, look we're both tired, can we go to sleep? we'll talk about this tomorrow morning, how does that sound?" he gives you a small smile in hope to soothe you but you avoid his gaze and he realizes he had said too much this time, he swallows the lump forming in his throat.

"I'm sorry, I truly mean it" he whispers with a gentle voice. All he wants to do now is to kiss your pain away, but he know you won't let him this time.

"I think I'll sleep on the couch tonight" you say and slip past him out of the bathroom and the bedroom.

 He watches you leave the bathroom and the bedroom with his heart racing like crazy. You were going to sleep on the couch? No. No way. It hurt knowing that he made you feel bad enough that you would sleep on the couch instead of in your bed with him. His legs moves on his own and he follows you out of the bedroom before grabbing your wrists and pulling you close to him. "Baby please, don't sleep on the couch" he pleaded and tried to press you against his body.

"Art I don't want to be close to you right now, I really need space to think"you pull your wrist back and Art feels his heart sink at your words as his head started spinning. 

He tries to blink away the tears that were in the corner of his eyes, but he can't. So his hands slowly let go of your wrists and he takes a step back. "Okay. If you want space then I will give you the space you need", he says with a cracked voice and looks down at his empty hands.

You smile weakly before giving him a small smile "thank you, night Art" but before you can turn again he surpasses you to sit on the couch before you can reach it "I'll sleep here baby, you take the bed" he says and lays there, his eyes never leaving your figure and the way he is looking at you makes you feel so damn guilty even though he is the one at fault.

You open your mouth to speak but nothing you think seems appropriate, you reclutantly nod and turn around to go back to the bedroom.

He watches you disappear in the dark bedroom. His thoughts were racing. The guilt that was already so heavy on his soul is getting heavier every second. But he knows that you need space now after what he said to you. The only thing that he could do now was to pray that in the morning everything will go back to being alright. So that's what he did before falling asleep after a long time of just simply staring at the ceiling.

You hand caressing his cheek softly stirs Art awake the next morning.

You can feel Art's body tensing up at first at the soft touch of your hand on his cheek, but he quickly melts into it. The warm feeling of your hand on his skin makes his heart flutter and he slowly opens his eyes to look at you. "Baby?" he whispers still sleepy from what you assumed was a bad night on the couch.

"Hi" you murmur and his hand come to rest on yours still on his cheek "I made breakfast, would you like to join me?" if it wasn't for the fact that Art slept on the couch and his burning eyes he would've thought that what happened yesterday was just a bad dream.

Art is confused, he is afraid to speak and ruin this moment, to push you away once and for all and lose you forever "Yeah I would love to, baby".

You gave him a small smile before making your way to the kitchen and Art follows behind you. He still seems exhausted as if he barely got any sleep last night. His heart sinks once his eyes lands on the table. You made his favourite pancakes with maple syrup, but in contrast to all the other days you didn't made coffee this time, only milk.

You sit on your place but Art stands awkwardly at the doorframe as if he needs your permission to approach you. So you give it to him.

The both of you eat the food in silence. Art doesn't dare to say a word the whole time, the only thing that he can't stop doing is stealing a look at you every now and then when he believes that you won't notice it. He can't get over the fact that you were so kind and cooked him his favourite meal after what happened last night. But his heart stops when you suddenly put down your fork and clear your throat. He was so nervous that he can already feel the lump in his throat building up.

"I think we should talk about yesterday Art"

 His heart is beating out of his chest the second he hears that dreaded sentence. The dreaded talk. The talk that would surely decide how everything is going to be between you two from this point. He swallows loudly before nodding his head. "Okay. Baby, listen I-" his voice cracks and he feels pathetic, if only his voice stopped him from speaking yesterday he wouldn't find himself in this position now. 

The second he sees your hand going up to stop his rambling, he immediately shuts up and swallows hard again. The tension in the room is so thick it could be cut trough with a knife. He has no idea what to do or how to start this conversation, so he looks at you with his thoughts racing in his head and fear building up more and more.

"I'll talk first"

He felt the lump in his throat growing thicker, but he nods once to show you that he is listening. "Go ahead," and you nod.

"what happened yesterday was not okay Art, I'm sorry that you feel so insecure of our relationship but you have to talk to me about these things and not accuse me of things I never did and never will"

 Art takes a shaky breath at your words. Everything that you said makes sense and he knows it. He should have talked about his insecurities and doubts, but instead he lashed his pain out on you. He feels so stupid right know.

"You're right. You're right. I'm sorry for what I said and did yesterday", he mumbles while he reaches for your hand to hold it. "I just..I don't know what got into me, but I promise I will never do this ever again".

"I'm not done" you say but take his hands in yours to reassure him. 

He swallows hard as you tell him that you aren't done. So he sits there still, not moving a muscle but also not letting go off your hands while he waits for you to continue. His heart is beating in his chest so fast it feels like it could explode any second.

"If you really think that Patrick is flirting with me, I'll keep him away from me... from us. I don't want to know what he told you that night, I don't care, but I need you to know that I love you, I'll always love you and only you, nothing will change that and I will never cheat on you, and I won't tolerate you behaving or accusing me like you did yesterday". 

Your words hit Art in the heart. He squeezes your hand a bit to show his affection and he nods "I know, I know that you love me and only me and that I'm an idiot for ever doubting that. And I love you too. More than anything. I'll try and work on my self doubt and my stupid insecurities. I'm sorry." He can't believe that you are still sitting in the same room with him.

You get up from your chair and sit on his legs, your hands go to his cheeks and you can feel his breath hitch as he hurriedly wraps one arm around you. Slowly he starts to press his cheek into your hand, he loves feeling your touch on him and he lets his eyes slowly close.

"is Patrick really the only thing that is bothering you?".

Art hums softly as he gives your question a real thought. Is it really the only thing that is bothering him?

He slowly opens his eyes and looks at you when he realizes that there is one more thing that made him jealous when he thought about it. "It isn't only Patrick..." he mumbled.

"what is it then?" 

"It's you" he says truthfully "It's you and how many people find you attractive. Everywhere you go there are so many guys checking you out. I know that they're no threat to our relationship, but everytime I see them looking at you I can't help but wish sometimes to have you all for myself".

"it's your fault for choosing a hot girl as your partner" you joke to lighten the mood. 

Art chuckles softly at your joke. He can feel the corner of his lips slowly twitching upwards to a smirk at your words. It's just like you to try and lighten up the mood and he loved that about you. 

"That's not fair" he mumbled against your palm before he leaned in to press a soft kiss onto it.

"you think I don't feel the same about you? everywhere we go there is always some girls making heart eyes at you and it makes me crazy, have you ever noticed them?" he shakes his head, he never sees them, he only has eyes for you, "and in the exact same way I don't see any other guys that is not you." he blushes and you kiss the corner of his mouth "the fact that I am insecure as you are about other people finding you attractive doesn't mean I get insecure of your love for me or of our relationship, and you shouldn't either" you flick his forehead 

At this point he is simply stunned by what you said and you could literally see on his face, so you are jealous of him too?

Art doesn't know what to say at first so the only thing that he does is to tighten his grip on your waist while his cheeks slowly turns red. "I..I thought you didn't feel the same about..you know..." He trails off when he realized that there aren't any words that can express what is on his mind.

"about other girls finding you pretty?"

Art slowly nods his head. "Yeah..I guess so" he mumbles and looks down at his lap, embarrassed that he has those thoughts and doubts. "I just thought that it didn't bother you cause you never said anything. I thought I was being crazy" he mumbled and looked up at you with guilty eyes.

"I should've express my feeling about it sooner, maybe you wouldn't have felt this way about Patrick" 

"Maybe..." he mumbles while he slides his arm from your waist and gently brushes some loose hair behind your ear "I'm sorry for what I said about you and Patrick baby...I'm so sorry"

"I know you are... I'm sorry too" you murmur 

His eyes widens slightly and his head snaps up so that he can look at you. "What are you sorry about, sweetheart. You didn't do anything wrong" his thumb gently brushes over the skin on your cheek.

"about not expressing my insecurity sooner, for making you feel alone in this, we both could have handled this situation better" his heart starts racing in his chest when you lean into his hand and softly press your lips onto it. A small sigh escapes his lips while he keeps his eyes on you "I guess we both have to work on sharing our insecurities baby. Let's not keep anything from each other, alright?"

"sounds like a great deal to me" you whisper and kiss him softly on the lips and he comes alive under you.

He immediately leans into the kiss and presses his lips back onto yours. He feels like all the tension between you is slowly fading out and he cups your face with his hands to pull you closer.

He can't get enough of the taste of your lips. The way you are sitting on his lap kissing him passionately feels so right. It takes all his willpower to slow down the kiss and pull away from you to breath for a moment. His thumb gently caress your cheeks, while he watches you, flushed and looking absolutely wrecked.

You climb off his lap just to straddle him and rejoin your lips together, his hands fly to your hip to pull you closer. The feeling of your body pressed against his makes him groan and his eyes flutters for a moment, before he deepens the kiss again. His tongue licks across your bottom lip and he gently nips on it with his teeth.

you moan and grind your hips on his, the only things keeping your body separate are your short nightgown and his jogging pants. 

A breathy moan escapes his lips at the feeling of your hips grinding on him in such a sweet torture. He pulls you even closer if that's even possible and his fingers digs into the skin on your sides to hold you in place while his hips starts to move on their own. "Baby.." he gasps against your lips at the delicious friction of your bodies, he can't handle how hot you look on his lap.

"I need you Art, please"

-------

The second those needy words leave your lips something inside him snaps. The way you beg him makes him feel like he could explode in any second. "God, I love you" He gasps and pulls his lips from yours just to shower kisses along your jaw. "I need you too, baby." He moans against your skin and his hips rocks upwards to meet your movements.

you grind your hips on his again and again in circolar motions, his lips goes to your neck and lightly suck on it and his hands on your ass to help your movements. Your hands instead goes to raise his shirt to take it off and Art leans back against the chair to help you before going back to the same position as before.

Art groans in anticipation when you start to pull off his shirt that reveals his pale chest and abs to you. He shivers slightly when your hands roams over his bare skin and he buries his face in the crook of your neck. He leaves wet kisses on your skin while he let his fingers sneak under the hemline of your nightgown to feel your skin. 

you take off your nightgown and throw it on the floor with his shirt before raising your hips to slide off his pants and boxer 

While you take the rest of your clothes off he can't stop himself from watching you. You look so divine and beautiful while undressing in front of him that he has to swallow hard and bite his lips at the sight of your body. After all this time you can still make his mind blank and speechless with your beauty. Slowly his hands roams up your thighs and over the skin on your hips while his eyes looks up at you, completely mesmerised.

"you look so beautiful baby" he says while you slid your panties to the side and sink down on his member, you let out a moan.

He keeps his eyes on you while you slowly let yourself sink down on him, his fingers gently grabbing at your hips to help you, while he feels himself becoming consumed in the feeling of you. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen" he manages to gasp before slowly kissing your lips. It felt like his mind was blank as he could only focus on every single sensation that you make him feel.

His breath hitches at the feeling of your insides wrapped around him and a moan escapes his lips in between the kisses. Art can't even concentrate on anything in this moment apart from you. He starts to move his hips in a steady rhythm with you in his lap.

"fuck, you feel so good baby, I love you" he moans and picks you up, a yelp come out of your mouth and your body trembles in his arms as his member slides deeper than before.

He picks up the pace when he hears you moan out loud, his mind completely blissed out at the feeling of himself buried inside of you while he continues to kiss you everywhere he can reach. 

His idea was to take you in your bedroom but you feel too good and his legs tremble from the pleasure, so he has no choice but to sit you on the table, him between your legs as he pick up his pace.

A surprised gasp escapes your mouth at the change of positions. He spreads your thighs further apart and his hips snaps against you and a groan escapes his lips.

You bring his face to yours and kiss him deeply, your tongues intertwined and your hands slide to his shoulders to dig your nails there and Art moans at the pain mixed with pleasure, one of his supports his weight off of you by resting on the table and the other finds your clit to rub it in circular motions to stimulate you further.

He moans into your mouth the second your tongue finds its way to his and his body presses against you while he does so. That action alone causes him to be deeper inside you and his eyes flutters close despite his best efforts to keep them open to look at you.

"Art- fuck" you moan and tremble against him, your chests pressed together before you let yourself lay against the table completely 

He stands back to look at your spread out body, you look so beautiful that it almost physically hurts him, he gets out of you to turn you around, you whine in response but lay against the table again without much struggle, he slips inside of you again

His pace now is slow and he stops your hips as they try to meet his, you whine in protest 

"Art please... go faster" you look back at him, your eyes pleading while your elbows support your weight, he lowers himself until his chest is pressed against your back and his mouth is close to you left ear "tell me you are mine" he orders while he bottoms out inside of you. 

The way he says that in your ear combined with how deep he is inside of you makes you whimper and shiver runs down your back. "I'm yours" you breathe and your eyes flutter by the feeling of him pressed so close against you. You feel like you're being wrapped up in Art and that feeling alone makes you feel so loved "I'm all yours, please..."

"I swear I'm only yours Art" you say again and his right arm goes around your neck while he bring you up with him in a straight position.

His hand tightens around your neck, making sure the pressure is light as his other hand slips around your stomach to hold you up against him. He then starts to move inside you with slow even strokes. "That's tight you're mine..." he groans into your ear, "I love you so much..."

The new position makes his cock hit your cervix and you eyes gets watery from tears of pleasure, he picks up his pace "I'm going to cum Art" 

"me too baby" his hands goes to your clit again and your walls spams around his shaft "can I cum inside of you?" you nod furiously and turn your head to kiss him, when you cum your mouths are still joined and he slides as deep as he can as he reaches his climax too, his mouth now on your left shoulder and your hands wraps around both of his wrists. 

You stay still for a moment, your bodies joined together as your mouths lets out shaky laughs and breaths, he slide out of you delicately and turns you to sit you properly on the table again, his Hans on your thighs as they tremble.

Even in this moment you look the perfect combination of beautiful and wrecked to him. "I still can't believe how prefect you look all the time" he mumbles as he brushes some loose hair behind your ears softly.

You smile and pepper his face with sweet kisses that makes Art close his eyes in content, you slide off of the woodened forniture and take his hands in yours, "how about we take this to the bedroom, my love?"

He immediately nods in response and his eyes flutters when he feels your lips on his face. He feels like in this moment he could stand here and let you shower him with kisses forever. "Lead the way my love" he mumbles with a lazy tired smile on his face, his eyes follows you while you make your way to the bedroom.

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

do not copy or repost.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fluff #challengers fic #challengers #art donaldson

[aerinaga]

ocean eyes pt. 1

paige bueckers x reader series

synopsis: your family tagging you along as chauffeurs with the divisions of the uconn basketball team won’t be that bad right? having to be stuck in disturbing (yet so tempting) tension with a blondie from the wbb team won’t make this 3-day trip go downhill…maybe?

warnings: none

your younger brother, nathan, is part of the uconn basketball team. he’s a sophomore at uconn, and he’s been doing great there. he tags you along during their games, even on their little parties, even with the uconn wbb team.

the women’s division in basketball is way more popular than what you thought. in fact, it’s way more popular than the mens team. you always laugh at the thought that the women’s team get way more girls than they do.

as the year is ending and summer is starting, all coaches in the basketball field have decided to go on a trip. this is gonna be the biggest trip ever, knowing that both men and womens division will be there.

your parents volunteered to chauffeur an extra vehicle. but being the independent you, you decided to take your own car too. you offered to be a chauffeur as well. you got caught up on your nerves since you would be meeting new people, but who knows? you might end up making good friends with the girls.

PRESENT TIME

it was 6am, everyone was gathered at uconn. cars were ready, luggages were everywhere, girls, and guys everywhere. your mind was still foggy, not being used to this early morning.

the coaches and parents were assigning the seating arrangements for the car rides. as you look at the list, paige bueckers is assigned to your car. her. you saw her often, at your brothers games. the both of you never really talked, only hi’s and heys at each other when your family greeted her.

there was always this tension between the both of you. the tension in where your lips might just crash at each other. besides the point, she is beautiful. you do have a thing for girls here and there, but she makes you so gay.

you can feel her piercing gaze at you. you can’t help but look back, her ocean eyes too beautiful to resist. you open your trunk for her to put your luggage in. kk, azzi, and ice were also joining in your car. you knew them well enough, excited for whats coming in the next days.

paige immediately took shotgun, connecting her phone to the aux because she claims that “she has the best music taste.” well what if she tasted good too?

it’s been 2 hours on the road, all 3 girls at the back were fast asleep. paige was awake, looking at the road ahead of her as the sun rises.

“do you wanna switch? i can drive too, we can pull up to the side.” paige talks to you quietly, not wanting to wake up the people at the back.

“no it’s okay, just keep the aux going. you do have good music taste like what people say.” you chuckle lightly, giving her a small smile as you look at her swiftly.

“i mean, it’s me. i have all kinds of music.” she shrugs her shoulders (🤷‍♀️).

you hum at her as an approval, focusing your attention on the road.

a few moments later, you hear her mumble something.

“what did you say? is there something wrong, p?” you don’t know how you got that nickname, instincts you guess.

“hmm nothing, you look pretty even if i can tell you’re tired. not used to waking up early huh?”

you blush at her comment, trying to keep in your smile.

after 4 hours on the road, the teams arrived at the resort. it was a beach resort, the sand was white, water was clear, the breeze just felt like summer. the coaches booked two villas, one for the men and the other for the women.

you don’t know how you ended up in a room with paige. well…at least the bed is a queen sized bed…? fuck.

you were in the room when paige suddenly walks in. you turn to look back at her, and you see her smirking.

“what? i didn’t choose this arrangement” you huff, feeling teased by paige. paige laughs, putting her luggage down to go closer to you.

she walks closer to you, grabbing you by the waist.

“maybe you just can’t resist me, baby.” she whispers.

“or maybe, YOU can’t resist me, p.” you move your face closer to hers.

the space between the both of you is so little, lips so close to touching each other.

before you could do anything, kk barges in the room.

a/n: HALUUU 😙 send me in messages and tell me how you like it! send requests too.

#Spotify #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb

[tsukimefuku]

unwell ❖ nanami kento

summary: you had a terrible day, but at least, you’ve got a helping hand.

cw: soft nanami x reader, implied past higuruma x reader, reader is having a mental breakdown but in a kind of funny way, hurt and comfort, a lot of fluff, i want this man to pat my hair dry as i have a meltdown and drink wine straight from a bottle.

wc: 1.1k

notes etc.: the inspo song is in the title, unwell (matchbox twenty). i will reuse this scene in another fic with another turn of events.

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist

❖ hold me in your clarity ❖

As Nanami closed the door while entering your apartment holding groceries, he heard the water in the bathroom being turned on. Figuring you must be taking a shower, he calmly went in the to leave the bags over the counter and began to make his way into the bedroom to see if you had left plates or anything of the sort. However, upon walking by the bathroom, Nanami realized the door was open, stepping back immediately.

You didn't fail to notice that out of your peripheral vision.

"It's okay, I'm fully clothed," you yelled through the thundering water, while you held your second bottle of wine of the night a little outside from the water's range.

"... What?"

You sighed.

"You can come in, Kento."

He stepped inside the bathroom to witness a rather… unexpected scene. You still had the usual clothes you wore for missions on, and was barefoot inside the shower, while holding a bottle of wine. 

"Did you know the first time I encountered Hiromi, he was fully clothed inside a bathtub?" you asked Nanami, while still looking straight ahead to the wall in front of you.

He seemed slightly worried under his collected expression.

"I didn't."

"Yeah…" you ensued, taking a gulp of wine, "he had a suit on. I mean, it seemed fun, but maybe it just looked that way because he was in a bathtub. Taking a shower with your clothes on is just… sad."

He knew you enough to realize something must've happened for you to be in that state, but wondered if this would be the best moment to probe at it. 

You gave him no options, though.

"Three people died on my mission today. And another yesterday. I… I just need one win, you know? To have at least one single thing in my life that isn’t buried in deep shit."

You were clearly in the middle of an astrological hell, getting thrown around like a penny inside a washing machine. Every little damn thing in your life was going wrong ever since Higuruma left Tokyo, and you were doing your best to keep your sanity as intact as it could be.

Even if it meant trying weird shit like this.

"I see," Nanami replied, not having much to say beyond that. He knew the hardships that came with this life, and thought that maybe having a little mental breakdown taking a shower fully clothed was one of the most harmless things you could do right now.

However, it was also cold, and you would for a fact catch a cold if you kept going.

He walked towards the shower, and you wondered what exactly he was about to do. Opening it, he turned off the water, while pulling the towel from its support.

"Hey!" you protested.

"Come, you need to dry yourself," he noted, offering a hand to help you out.

With a pout, you walked outside and sat on the sink, still mindlessly holding onto your bottle.

He enveloped you in the towel he had pulled, and grabbed another nearby to pat your hair as dry as possible.

"You should avoid leaving the bathroom right now, you're drenched," he said, no chide intended.

You scoffed.

"Yeah, perhaps."

"I can get some clothes for you to change, if you'd like."

Reluctantly, you nodded.

"Later."

He acquiesced, and kept patting your hair dry.

"Nanami, how do you not go crazy with this fucking job? How are you so stable?" you inquired, taking another gulp of wine and looking at him, "I need some encouragement words."

He pondered for a moment before sighing.

"I don't have any. It's a hard and most times unrewarding work that needs to be done."

You grunted.

"Guess you're right. We just hold the string of sanity for dear life and hope it doesn't snap, right?"

He nodded softly.

"You could say that."

"What a nightmare," you replied, taking another sip, "I want to talk about something else, this is depressing me even further, let's chat."

Nanami sighed, yet again, now chiding, "you should get dry, eat something and rest."

"Oh, we can talk about anything, come on!" you encouraged, half in jest, "I'm a bottle and a half in, won't remember a thing tomorrow."

"That's even more of a reason for you to sleep. I'll leave some food for you in your fridge."

You were both silent for a little while until you began speaking again.

"Do you know what this is remembering me of? You patting my head down with a towel? That night."

"What night?" he asked.

"Our night, Kento. The one you so tenderly referred to as 'the events of' on the note you left me before leaving the next morning for a mission." 

You said tenderly in the mockiest voice he'd ever heard.

"... Oh."

Nanami's body had noticeably stiffened up, and you could swear he was slightly blushing.

"Yeah, not one of your greatest moments. I mean, the note. Not the night. The night was great. Amazing, really."

Nanami cleared his throat, feeling deeply embarrassed, to say the least.

"I apologize."

"No worries, I forgave you, remember?" you replied, chuckling softly. 'The events of last night', Jesus… "So… You already told me why you pushed me away, but did we have a shot at it?"

And he had told you how he was frightened of the losses the both of you could endure if you had in fact entered a relationship, how it reminded him of his past losses, past failures and the whole story.

But you never got to discuss the what if.

Nanami had a bated breath faltering as he opened his mouth to speak, and seemed to actually think out his answer carefully, before finally speaking up again.

"I believe so."

A deep sigh got pulled from your lungs as you put your wine bottle away.

"Yeah… me too. I loved you," you mumbled, defeated. The next part came inaudibly, and you weren't sure if you were actually saying it or thinking it.

Still do.

His hands seemed to stop patting you dry for the briefest moment before he continued to do so, completely silent. You were unsure if this had been your imagination, and if he had heard that or not.

A few moments later, he put the small towel on the sink by your side and stepped behind.

"I'll get you some clean clothes for you to change into."

"Okay," you mumbled.

As he was about to step out of the bathroom, you called out, "hey, Kento…"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

He smiled and bowed his head towards you, saying, "you're welcome," finally walking out of the bathroom.

Did I say it out loud? 

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jjk fanfic #nanami headcanons #jujutsu nanami #kento nanami #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x reader #kento x you #kento x reader #nanami fluff #kento fluff #nanami kento fluff #jjk fluff #jjk imagines #fuku writes #tsukimefuku

[underratedgrapeju1ce]

i wonder if sonic ever talked to shadow about what happened with other shadow...

sonics not a huge "talking about feelings" guy, but i imagine seeing shadow---even a fake version version of him---begging him for help as he deteriorates, would mess him up a bit

when the others ask where sonics been for the past few days, he brushes it off. free as the wind, remember! he does his own thing! but i dont think shadow would buy it.

he probably brashly interrogates sonic, assuming he was off being irresponsible. when sonic snaps that no one would believe him if he told them, that catches shadows attention.

he probably softens, just by a hair, and demands to know what REALLY kept him away. when sonic describes the Other world, shadow doesnt laugh, or tell him off for making up lies like sonic expected him to. and when he brings up the other maria, any trace of irritation in shadows demeanor is replaced with quiet shock.

little blurb under the cut. (i lied its like a whole ass chapter)

"...Told ya you wouldn't believe me," Sonic huffed a humorless laugh. "Chaos, it sounds even more insane when I say it out-"

"I believe you."

Sonic's hand paused where it was exasperatedly wiping down his face. Emerald eyes blinked up at Shadow, the gloved hand now hovering aimlessly in midair.

"...Huh?"

"Don't give me that idiotic look, hedgehog," Shadow seemed to snap, but his voice lacked any sharp, incriminating edge, "You're not remotely creative enough to come up with a lie that elaborate."

"There's a compliment hidden in there somewhere, I can feel it."

Shadow's round ear flicked in irritation, his eyes rolling and his shoulders heaving as he sighed. Ruby eyes closed, brows furrowed, carefully planning his next words.

"I know how you behave when you lie. This is not one of those instances."

There was silence, save for the far-off twittering of Flickies, muffled by the canopy of the forest. The sun was sinking now, casting orange flares in both hedgehogs' eyes. Sonic sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Well, nothing to do about it now," he mumbled, "I'm sorry I said anything. Doesn't have anything to do with you guys-"

"You said this world seemed to be some exaggerated form of paradise for you, to some extent?"

The blue hedgehog was a bit taken aback by how calmly and objectively Shadow was going about this, but... hey, it was Shadow. He balked for a moment, stammering his explanation.

"I... I mean, I-I guess? I'm not sure how creepy button eyes is an ideal lifestyle but-"

"I'm serious, hedgehog."

Sonic sighed again, averting his eyes to the ground.

"I..." Sonic laughed shortly, devoid of warmth, and threw his hand up in surrender, "Sure, yeah. I guess that's what the thing was going for, but obviously that creepy doll hellscape thing is not my idea of paradise. But Shadow, why is this-"

"Do you think I would be happier if Maria was here?"

Sonic's heart dropped to his feet, and he felt his veins run cold. His body was still for a moment, then he shrugged. Then he started to speak. Then he cut himself off. Then he put a hand to his face and stared at the grass through his fingers. The hedgehog noted how close the toe of his shoe was to crushing a small pink flower. He took a step backwards, then looked up.

"I-I don't know, would you?"

"I'm asking you, Sonic."

The blue hedgehog gave a huff through his nose, shoulders slumping in defeat.

"I mean," he spoke quietly, digging a fang into his lip, "I guess so? I feel like it's pretty natural to wish we didn't have to lose people we care about."

Sonic's thoughts flitted to his parents. He brushed it away for now.

Shadow looked thoughtful, deadpan, brows furrowed and eyes staring vaguely at the grass in front of him. Sonic didn't know why he felt like he was poking a grizzly bear. He knew he and Shadow had a tendency to compete rather than talk, so he supposed he expected the black hedgehog to dart off or hurl a Chaos Spear at his skull.

"I don't think I would be."

Sonic blinked in surprise, the tension dropping from his shoulders from when he'd braced himself for an attack. Shadow seemed surprised at his own answer.

"As dear as Maria is to me," the hybrid continued slowly, as if his words were an elaborate chess strategy, "As much as she would've loved this planet, and you---" Sonic felt a pang in his chest. "--what's done is done. If I could speak to her one last time, I would do so in an instant. But..."

Shadow looked solemn. He sighed again.

"It would be selfish of me, to undo the permanence of death. This planet is as dangerous and ruthless as it is beautiful. If people did not have mercy on the ARK, it would be no different here. Her illness would be expedited, and there would be nothing for me to do."

"But what if--"

"The best thing that I can do for Maria is keep this planet safe in her name. That is all."

Twilight now stained the sky softly purple, the faintest glimpse of stars beginning to flicker into existence, and the sinking light cast sunken shadows on the black hedgehog's tired face. Sonic figured talking like this was a fairly herculean effort. The chilled wind softly ruffled their quills. Instinctively, Sonic wanted to lighten the mood by making a jab about Doctor Frankenstein, or Night of the Living Dead, but taking one look at Shadow's exhausted face, he knew it wasn't the time.

The silence was tenuous, both hedgehogs unsure what to do with their feelings out in the open.

Sonic thought about how wrong the Other world had been, how uncanny and fundamentally terrifying it all was. He knew that thing, the puppet made of string and buttons and false fur...it wasn't really Shadow. But it still tried to help him. It was still Shadow's voice begging him not to leave, not to do this to him, not again. He knew the pain in its expression as the little girl in the blue dress unraveled was far from fake. As much as that fake world tried to create happiness, the only real, raw thing? Had been that pain.

Deep down, Sonic thought Shadow deserved to be a bit selfish, at least in this hypothetical, fantastic situation they'd created. And Sonic had the feeling that Shadow really, really wants to be as well. But, ever the realist, he doesn't even allow himself the fantasy. At least that's Sonic's guess. Maybe he's just projecting his savior complex again.

"Race ya home, faker?"

But Sonic also knows that living in a past as painful as Shadow's can be dangerous.

"You mean my home, or the fox's lab you sleep on the floor of?" Shadow smirks challengingly.

He's watched it consume Shadow before.

"That's a low blow!"

It's probably better off for both of them to just live in the present.

"Last one to Rouge's buys drinks?"

Shadow may not have his sister with him anymore, but, maybe the new normal isn't horrible.

"Oh, you're so on! I can taste my victory Shirley Temple already!"

"A Shirley Temple, are you a child?"

Maybe this freedom is what Maria wanted for him all along.

"You're gonna be crying like one when you lose!"

Shadow hmph's with a grin as his skates spark to life, glowing even brighter beneath the now inky black sky. With no warning, he darts off, leaving billowing ripples in the grass behind him. Sonic gapes for a moment, before his mind catches up and he peels away with an eager smile.

The blue hedgehog slows up near the end of their race, if only to see Shadow's victorious expression as Rouge opens the club door.

#holy fuck this got long #sonics savior complex goes crazy #shadows resolve to move on from his past goes crazy #hits the griddy #racing as therapy #dumb boys talking about feelings and stuff ewww #answered asks #writing #drabble #sonic #sonic au #coraline au #shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #sonic fanfiction #text #sonadow #?? #i guess #i love writing oughfhf i forgot

[simplydnp]

not even trying to be creepy, just trying to understand the phouse bc it's still so mysterious yet cool looking in comparison to their old apartments and this is probably such an old topic so i apologise, but is the green wall bedroom a guest room? bc i saw the phlonde selfie and was like "oh shit yeah that's The bedroom" but then phil's haircut twitter video was taken in the green wall bedroom and i feel like some other stuff has been too iirc. i mean i guess we'll probably never know which is fine but i can't help the curiosity

curiosity is fine! especially cause they do live in a clown's funhouse, based off some of what we've seen 😂 the whole 'upstairs kitchen' debacle that swept tumblr when the shuffleboard/mocktails videos came out.

i know it's controversial but i like their style and design choices. not only is it them, but i think it's well balanced and interesting, without being too bombastic, but also enough flair to not be Basic Beige Reselling. it's their home 🥺 (you didnt ask but there you go 😂)

in terms of the green room, based off what we've seen, i think it's very clearly a guest room. it's got the touches the rest of the house does, in terms of general style, but there is absolutely no trace of either of them in that room. it comes across as significantly more sterile than any of the other rooms in the phouse, and it's cause they aren't using it.

now it's not like it's an off-limits room, cause they filmed the haircut insta story in it, and our belief is they did the closet clean-out one there too. it's just a guest/secondary room. just look at the first picture we got of the decor in the phouse: literally filled with memories and mementos from both of them, on shelves together. even the rest of the house is filled with dnp trinkets, art, and stuff. the only thing we've seen in that room is the bamboo paintings phil's dad did to commemorate their japan trip. (and the dyed green towels & bathmat that dan Notably disliked) and we know how much phil loves his trinkets and memories. so. it's a guest room.

#id say thats pretty par for the course for most people. not filling a guest room with personal trinkets/photos or anything #but what do i know really 😂 i dont own a house nor have a guest room that isnt personalized #c.text #phan #answered

[jess-the-vampire]

I love how Philip and Biscuit's dynamic amounts to something along the lines of...

Philip: I live a life of solitude, and my misery and self-loathing know no bounds.

Biscuit: Hi Philip! Biscuit get flower for Philip! Philip happy now?

Phillip: ... Yes, Philip happy now.

biscuit's development is super funny in retrospect, because i created him as a response to this staff we're shown in philip's journal:

and at the time, my assumption was that this was his own palisman, and the fandom and wittebane community wondered if he had one at some point and uh....ate it, which is where the palisman eating idea evolved from (This is given no answer in the show itself).

other creators have some other ideas, like the lovely @captainmera have interpreted it as evelyn's palisman, but the show itself kinda never gave us an answer which i still find kinda strange to this day.

i mean, why show us a palisman at all in this book if we never get to know who it belongs to and why philip was studying it? And it was post-cut too (Since this appeared in KKKOHD and we were told they were informed back in ER), so it can't be entirely waved off as a cut concept either.

I get the impression now the crew didn't think we would care and just thought of adding a random palisman to the journal (Especially given it seems unlikely philip ever had a palisman at this point) , but i prefer it to be more relevant then that if they were going to show us it.

but at the time, since that was where my head was at, i made biscuit as a result, expecting to eventually update him design and name wise, only for that to never happen since the spider staff never got answers.

so i basically made an original character out of what i thought would be an established character?

and because i prefer giving the palisman a lot more personality, and because spiders are typically seen as scary, i figured making the spider actually very cute would be a perfect way of going about it.

Which i guess worked because people tend to love biscuit, i have had people happily draw him, some try and make plushies of him, he's gotten nods even in the wittebane collab, and i think that's cute.

i think deer, horses, ect also do fit philip's character, especially aesthetically, but i do think spiders also quite fit his personality with the weaving of the web, the trickery, and consumption and draining of smaller creatures.

also the duology of Philip in this au being reclused and miserable paried with a creature whose ungodly supportive and a ball of sunshine makes for funny and interesting comics around them. It also allows for philip to have a character that helps him develop in this au and progress as a person, especially in periods where caleb and hunter aren't there. The palisman eater, growing a bond with his palisman.

sorry for the tangent, it's always just funny how we ended up in this position regarding them in the au, cause boy is it quite the evolution

#my art #a reverse of feathers and mud au #areverseoffeathersandmudau #a reverse of feathers and mud #emperor belos #philip wittebane #the owl house #toh #toh fanart #toh art

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part 43)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap,

Over the next few weeks, Cillian seemed to be in a better mood, and, if anything, he was even more affectionate than he had ever been before. He showered you with compliments and affection, making you feel loved and cherished. And yet, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that something was off. He was acting weird lately and you were not entirely sure why. 

"I am just over this Award stuff already, you know. I am sorry," Cillian muttered after you had asked him once again one night he was visiting you and, since you knew how much he hated all this publicity and travelling around, you didn't push the topic any further. 

"I know you do, but you only have five or so more ceremonies to go," you teased him, trying to put a smile on his face.

"Yeah, and I can't wait until they are over," he replied with a huff. "Fuck, I am getting too old for this shit."

You laughed, but you could sense the weariness in his voice. You knew that acting was his passion, but sometimes, it seemed as if the constant travelling and promotions were taking a toll on him. You moved closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you looked up at him.

"You aren't that old though, Cills," you reminded him with a soft smile, your finger tracing the lines that formed between his eyebrows.  "Now tell me, how did the suit fitting go today?" you asked, changing the topic as you looked up at him, waiting for another huff of annoyance to escape his mouth. But instead, he smiled, a proper wide smile that was so bright and genuine that you couldn't help but follow suit.

"It went well, actually," Cillian said, his tone light as he leaned down to press a soft kiss on your forehead. "It's black," he then told you. "I mean they are all black, which is another thing I do not understand," he chuckled. "Why do I need a different suit for every fucking event?" Cillian groused, shaking his head slightly.

"Because you are nominated for an award at each of those events and I suppose it's important for your image?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as if challenging him. Cillian chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

"I suppose, but it's so fucking wasteful," Cillian told you before pulling you even closer, knowing that, for the next few weeks, he would be away even more often than he already had been since Christmas which, due to Mara having been sick, you had spent together on your own.  "I know, but hey, you are a successful actor and everyone expects you to dress the part," you reminded him gently, even though you secretly agreed with him. You didn't like the way that the entertainment industry placed so much emphasis on appearances.

Cillian sighed but nodded, understanding that you were right. "I guess," he murmured, his arms tightening around you before he changed the topic. "I wish you and Mara could come with me to LA tomorrow," he told you softly, as he ran a hand up and down your spine.

You sighed, wishing more than anything that could be possible, but knowing it wasn't. "I know and, if Mara wasn't so little still, I probably would. It's just too hard to travel back and forth with a baby," you told Cillian before reminding him that you would be joining him for the Academy Awards next month, for which Cillian had arranged his mother to travel with you so that she could look after Mara while you attended the awards ceremony with Cillian.

He smiled at you in relief and you couldn't help but notice how much that small gesture made your heart flutter. 

The Oscars were an event that you had agreed to attend with him after him begging you to and you were extremely nervous about it. You  had never been to such a big event before, and you were worried about not fitting in. 

Being a famous actor's much younger girlfriend, you were acutely aware of the scrutiny that would be cast upon you at this glamorous event. And as you looked at yourself in the mirror every day, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious.  You looked nothing like the glamorous actresses that would be attending the awards ceremony with their equally glamorous partners. You were a young, shy, innocent woman who had just become a mother, and you couldn't help but feel out of place.

But Cillian had been nothing but supportive and encouraging, reminding you every day how beautiful and amazing you were. He had even arranged for his own stylist to dress you  for the awards ceremony, insisting that you would look stunning in whatever she picked out for you.

You smiled at the memory, your heart fluttering as you looked up at Cillian. “I wish you didn’t have to go,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

Cillian sighed, his eyes meeting yours before he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I wish I didn’t have to go either,” he murmured, his arms tightening around you. "I much rather be here with you and Mara," he added in between kisses that stole your breath away.

"I know and I love you for that," you murmured, your fingers tracing sharp lines of tension along his sculpted jawline. "I love you so much."

He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of your breath against his lips, the weight of your body against his, and the sound of your voice saying those three words that meant the world to him. He pulled back slightly, holding your gaze for just a moment longer before his lips sought yours again, deepening the kiss.

His hands roamed over your body like a moth to a flame, finding the soft curves of your hips, the firm reason that brought sharp gasps to your lips.

You ran your fingers through his hair, the strands soft and smooth between them.

"I want you, Cillian," you whispered, breaking the kiss to let your lips glide along his cheek, tasting the salt of his skin. His chest rumbled beneath your touch and your nipples hardened with the pounding rhythm of his heart beneath your fingertips.

"Let's go upstairs," you whispered, your breath hot against his ear as you trailed your fingers down his torso.

"How could I possibly say no to you?" he asked, his breath hot against your ear as he spoke before, finally, following you upstairs.

"You can't," you giggled, sensing his arousal.  The intensity in Cillian's eyes was undeniable and, before you knew it, you found yourself in bed with him, naked  and sweaty from the anticipation.

"Fuck, you are so beautiful," Cillian said, his voice low and husky as he ran his hands up and down your body.

You could feel the heat radiating from Cillian's touch and, as his fingers roamed over your breasts, you couldn't help but moan with pleasure. You loved the way Cillian touched you, like you were the only woman in the world.

"And I love you so fucking much," Cillian groaned, leaning forward to kiss you.

His tongue delved into your mouth, tasting you as if you were the sweetest nectar.

You moaned into his mouth, your hands roaming over his back, feeling every inch of him, committing him to memory.

Cillian's arousal was evident as his cock twitched against your thigh, and you couldn't help but reach down to wrap your fingers around it. He gasped as you began to stroke him slowly, feeling the velvety softness of his cock in your hand.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, breaking the kiss as he looked down at you with a desire-filled gaze.

Without releasing his cock, you rolled onto your back, pulling Cillian with you.

He moved over you, his eyes burning with need as he positioned himself at your entrance.

You could feel the tip of his cock probing at your wetness, and you moaned with anticipation, the thought alone causing a slickness that trickled down your thigh.

Cillian groaned, his hands gripping your hips, rendering you helpless as he slowly pushed inside you.

"Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good," he breathed, his hips rocking gently as he adjusted to your tight heat.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper, wanting to feel all of him.

Cillian's grip tightened on your hips, and he began to move in earnest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close and letting go of all your inhibitions.

Cillian's fingers wound through your hair, pulling your head back and exposing your throat to his eager lips. He kissed and bit at your neck, leaving wet, red marks that made you moan with pleasure. 

"Oh god,"  you cried, writhing under him, your body begging for more as he thrust harder and faster.

Cillian's breath was hot and heavy against your skin as he panted with the exertion of pleasure, the sound of their bodies slapping together filling the room, a rhythmic, primal symphony of desire.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Cillian growled, his movements quickening as he neared his release.

"I am so close, Cillian. Don't stop,"  you begged, your words coming out in pants.

"Never," he growled, his hips snapping forward as he drove himself even deeper inside of you.

Your bodies moved in sync, a dance as old as time itself. The bed creaked beneath you, a symphony of pleasure playing out before you.

Cillian's hands gripped your hips tighter as he felt the familiar sensation of his orgasm building deep within him.

"Cillian, I'm going to come," you cried out, your fingernails digging into his shoulders.

"Come for me, baby," he growled, his thrusts becoming erratic as he felt his own climax building.

You cried out his name as your orgasm tore through your body like a tidal wave. Your muscles contracted around Cillian's cock, pulling him even deeper inside of you as he groaned in ecstasy.

Cillian's hips stuttered, and he pressed deeper into you, his orgasm slamming into him as he filled you with his seed.

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you both panted and trembled in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking.

Cillian rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you lay sprawled across his chest, your breathing slowly returning to normal as you listened to the pounding of his heartbeat against your ear.

You could feel the sweat drying on your skin, and the ache between your legs was a constant reminder of the pleasure they had just shared.

Cillian's tongue found yours, and the two of you kissed passionately, tangling your limbs together as you savored the afterglow.

Eventually, Cillian pulled away, looking down at you with a soft, lingering stare. "I love you so much, Y/N," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

"I love you too, Cillian," you responded, your voice just as tender as his, not knowing the secret he was holding from you. 

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic

[lovenonymously]

the importance of well-written stories

watching Lovely Runner was like watching 4 K-dramas at once lol

well-written stories are so rare, you only understand that when you watch something exceptional. something unique. a once in a lifetime experience of watching it for the very first time.

this show gave me so many feelings. in truth, it was an experience. I'm glad I put aside my fear of sad endings and watched as it aired. for once, I took the leap and discovered that's exactly what this drama wanted me to learn.

usually, after finishing really good K-dramas or stories in general, I hit a slump where I cannot function. everything feels dull and boring. a different kind of grief at realising this was just fictional.

but not this time.

all I feel is light and happy. like I'm floating. I want to carry this feeling and runaway. I want to remember how this felt and hold onto it when I get down or get bad days.

lifetimes lived.

Sol was sunlight. bright and unwavering and unforgettable. 💛

living vicariously through Im Sol, from feeling her pain in the beginning to her sunny hope that Sun Jae gave her. all her struggles as she jumped through various lifetimes, loved and lived and loved again. crying with her, laughing with her, rooting for her despite all odds. it was a journey.

beyond her love for Sun Jae, Sol's choices changed her family's life too. they were less hurt and much happier in the future she helped them create. even giving her grandmother a chance to return to the past and relive her fondest memories.

Sun Jae was midnight rain. the comfort of a sudden shower in the middle of summer. 💙

apart from being a complete loser in love, Sun Jae was in love with Sol for a total accumulated time of 45 years.

yep. my reaction exactly ^

I won't lie, when they pulled the "he fell first" trope in Episode 2, I was wary. one, because if the writers were willing to pull such a twist in just the second episode, then who knew what else was in store for us? my guess was pretty spot on, the twists that followed had me gasping and yelling out loud. this show was unpredictable from beginning to end.

and two, because I was worried that Sun Jae's character might get reduced to just him being in love with Im Sol.

in that case, I'm glad to say,

I was completely wrong.

despite Sun Jae's love for Im Sol, he had a grounded personality of his own. whether it was OG Sun Jae (ep 1), who lived in the guilt of what happened to the girl he loved, or Timeline 3 Sun Jae (ep 15), who never fell in love at all, he was positive, kind, decisive and striving to live.

and i love that about him.

for two characters whose stories are so deeply interwoven together, having shaped aspects of each other's lives, Sol and Sun Jae displayed their unique traits exceptionally well as individuals.

I cannot emphasize how happy this makes me. Sun Jae is his own person, Sol is her own person, and they are destined to be together. beyond their desperation for each other's safety and well-being, Sol and Sun Jae are genuinely good people who deserved to be together. even fate and time bent to their will to make it happen.

"As you wait for the rain to stop, live another day."

when a story makes you feel happy, hold onto that feeling. bottle it up. write it down. come back to it on the days the world feels against you and when the times feel too bleak.

fictional though it is, for what it's worth, at least the story exists. it means there are still people out there writing and bringing such stories to life. it means artists and creators like you and I haven't yet forgotten what it's supposed to be like to live. it means there are still people who connect to such stories and learn good things from it.

and as you wait for more such great stories, live another day. perhaps, if you get bored, write the story you want to read.

in the end, it's quite simple.

as for me, I'll be here. crying, laughing, screaming, giggling and kicking my feet while being up to my eyes in second-hand embarrassment (because goodness, these two idiots are COMPLETE LOSERS IN LOVE) throughout these past 8 weeks was the highlight of my year ✨ I will always remember that I watched a beautiful modern fairytale romance in the summer of '24 that reminded me that I was young and full of love to give.

good stories truly do make a difference 🤍

#lovely runner #byeon woo seok #kim hye yoon #ryu sun jae #im sol #kdrama #kdrama edit #kdramagifs #kidnap sun jae and run #tvn #viki #viu #korean drama #they're losers in love your honour #we were all so nervous for the finale #then they off the villain in the first 3 mins lmfao #then it's just 1 hour 15 mins of tooth rotting fluff #i beg your unbelievable pardon #writing #writerblr #fanfic #writing inspiration #creative wrting #writing advice #writer #wattpad #ao3 #lovely runner gifs #Spotify #storytelling

[pookietv]

online embarrassment | arthurtv

this was a req!! and i think its adorable

there will be a part two to this !!!

being a simple university student, you had simple pleasures - getting drunk on the weekend, binge watching tv shows, and a more strange one, online chess. you liked watching people play, you liked playing yourself, you loved the strategy aspect. on some websites you played on, there was the option of livestreaming your chess game - no faces or voices, but people could chat alongside you playing, and you enjoyed seeing input on your games.

one day you were playing a particularly tricky game, being forked from practically the get go, and being the victim of many pawn trades, you were definitely on a losing streak, even if you were just playing against a bot. it was being streamed, but there were only four people watching, not that embarrassing right? especially because it was hidden behind a chess username and no one knew who you were anyways, so it didn't really matter.

so when a comment came in,

ATV: i wouldn't have played rook to f4 there, leaves an opening for a three move check :)

your head tilted a little, turning back to the game and furrowing your eyebrows, trying to figure what they had meant - and they were right, the move was a little careless and it could lead to checkmate.

you nodded to yourself, trying to amend the damage by playing your bishop defensively, to which another comment came in.

ATV: sorry for backseat gaming here, but you could have check in two

you smiled a little more at the comment, placing one hand on your chin and the other on your mouse, following some moves for what must have been fourty-five seconds before you clicked, they were right again. you made the move, the bot making its response, defending also, before in a few short moves, the game was over, you had won by check.

youruser: @/ATV thank you! i still kinda suck after playing for so long lmao

ATV: @/youruser do you want a game? :)

youruser: @/ATV sure! i'll add you now :P

so you added them, and they requested a game. in the chatbox on the side, you saw another message just as they had moved their first piece.

ATV: so what's your name?

youruser: i'm y/n, what about you?

ATV: arthur :)

he moved with an unusual polish opening, so you played traditional and tried to take control of the centre. within a few minutes, he had one of your pawns pinned, and had taken another.

youruser: damn you're actually really good

youruser: feeling a little defeated here :)

ATV: i'm just a loser with far too much time on my hands

youruser: well i mean me too but still, you're smoking me

ATV: cause you're playing too much attack not enough defence

youruser: i feel i may need you to tutor me lmao

ATV: lets finish up this game rq and then i'll help lol

unsurprisingly, he won, but you actually came closer than expecting, and it was a pretty even match after the poor beginning.

ATV: you're actually pretty good, you were just being modest

youruser: hm well maybe

youruser: suppose i'll have to keep challenging you til i win >:D

ATV: do you have discord or anything? easier to explain and talk on there rather than chess in game chat lol

youruser: i do! i'll link it rq :)

youruser: it's yourdiscuser #1782

and from there, you began talking semi-regularly, you played chess often and spoke tactics and games, he helped teach you and you enjoyed the company.

youruser: isn't it really strange we know nothing about each other other then chess defence strategies

youruser: i mean what if you're the insane chess killer man

ATV: yes, thats exactly who i am, the Insane Chess Killer Man, can't believe you caught me red handed

ATV: i mean what do you wanna know

youruser: i mean, idk,,, where are you from? i mean i know you speak english but you could be from anywhere i guess :O

ATV: i live in england, what about you :)

youruser: me too! i'm in london atm for uni, getting my masters

ATV: i am also in london! so if you're getting your masters, you're like ... somewhere around 24?

youruser: yeah, i'm 23 :P

youruser: what about you? i mean i have a feeling you're not some sixty year old man based on the fact you use discord but idk

ATV: i'm 28,,, getting very old :(

youruser: wow, very old indeed, must be such a shame

youruser: its gonna suck when i'm gonna have to visit you in a nursing home to play chess with you in two years time

ATV: okay i'm not that old you divvy :)

youruser: kidding, kidding ! anyway, i have to go because i have class but,, if you maybe wanna add me on instagram, its @/youruser :)

getting back from your lectures and practically throwing your backpack on the floor and collapsing on your bed, you planned on rotting the rest of the day away in pajamas and consuming far too much social media.

you opened instagram to a new follower: @/arthurtv

you assumed it was arthur from chess, and obviously in curiosity you opened his page straight away, you were nosy and you wanted to know who he was.

the first thing that shocked you was what he looked like: you didn't know what you were expecting but you didn't think it was going to be him.

he was... attractive, you had to admit, and your eyes had widened once you had seen him.

the second thing that shocked you was his followers, and his bio - he was a youtuber?

classically, you had to be nosy and follow the links to his youtube, your eyebrows raised a little as you looked at his channel, giggling to yourself, he did commentary on reality tv? you hadn't seen that before, but once you watched a video, you realised he was funny, too. he made it funny, despite the fact that you had at first felt it was the strangest youtube topic ever.

youruser: why hello arthurtv

youruser: i was definitely not expecting you

arthurtv: why hello y/n

arthurtv: i could say the same about you

youruser: well i mean i don't have any surprises

youruser: but you are apparently known for commenting on 90 day fiance?

arthurtv: i'd argue you have some surprises

arthurtv: and yes, i make commentary videos! wasn't trying to hide it or anything, just was a weird thing to bring up in conversation :)

youruser: no, it seems cool! i wasn't judging :) i don't watch much youtube so i don't know too much about it

youruser: and anyways, what surprises do i have?

arthurtv: i wasn't expecting you to look like that i suppose

youruser: like what ??

arthurtv: i mean, i don't know, pretty i suppose

arthurtv: you're very pretty, i just didn't know what i was expecting to be honest

youruser: wow you thought i couldn't be pretty cause i'm a loser playing chess??? smh arthur

youruser: (i'm kidding, i didn't expect you to look like you either)

arthurtv: you know that's not what i meant!!

arthurtv: what did you expect me to look like then?

youruser: well since you're 28, i suppose i was expecting a zimmerframe or walking stick or something

arthurtv: ha ha very funny

#arthur frederick #arthur frederick x reader #arthurtv #arthurtv x reader #chaos crew

[cobaltperun]

Tara Carpenter x Female Reader

R and Tara play together as children. R expresses her love for Tara, and her desire to marry her in the future!

Make us something special, like you always do!💙

Marry Me?

Tara Carpenter x Female Reader (Request)

Masterlist

Word count: 1.1k

The first time you were worried about Tara was when you were really young, when she tried to fit in and run with other kids despite her asthma. She ran out of breath quickly enough, but still pushed on, needing to feel accepted and in the end the teacher needed to help her through an asthma attack. That was when you were seven, and ever since then you refused to play games that required Tara to run or where she could get exhausted.

Which was why you were looking for her all over the playground. She hid well, she always did, and being tiny only helped her, but you loved the challenge. You went to look beneath the slide, because that was the last place you didn't look at.

And then, just as you crouched down to check, Tara jumped out, startling you and making you fall back onto your butt.

Her laughter filled the empty playground, and as infectious as it was you couldn't help but laugh with her.

"Found you, I guess," you laughed as she dropped down to the grass next to you.

"You didn't, I scared you," she denied your victory.

"Wha- Tara those aren't the rules!" you exclaimed, unknowingly taking her bait.

"Sore loser!" she stuck her tongue out at you.

"Cheater," you grumbled with a pout and looked away.

You heard Tara lying down, but still maintained your "angry pout" you didn't like it when someone scared you, Tara included.

"Let's go to the swing?" Tara suggested and you felt her leaning on your back and hanging her arms around you. "Hmm? Grumpy?"

As if you could ever say no to her. "Say 'please'," you still had to get at least that out of her.

"Please," she said it so easily, but you knew she meant it, she absolutely meant it, so you got up and the two of you ran over to the swings.

"What do you wanna do when you grow up?" Tara suddenly asked you as you started swinging. The Sun would set soon, so you didn't have much time together left today, but the sky was so beautiful right now, and the last bits of sunlight shining over the trees in the park made the moment feel almost magical.

"I wanna be a doctor!" you said immediately with the certainty only someone of your age could have. At nine years old you definitely didn't know anything about what it would take to do that, you just knew you liked the idea. "You?"

Tara thought it over. "I dunno, I'll think of something later," she shrugged. "Why a doctor?"

You felt the heat rising to your cheeks. "None of your business," you refused to tell her.

Tara whipped her head toward you abruptly. "Y/N!" she pouted and you had to look away from her, because she was using her big puppy eyes on you. "Come on, please tell me?"

"No," you felt your resolve breaking, even as you refused to tell her.

But Tara was nothing, if not stubborn. "You're mean if you don't tell me," she said.

"I am mean then," you still tried to outdo her in stubbornness.

"I won't hang out with you for a week," she threatened, all serious and you sighed, giving in to her.

"I wanna cure your asthma," you whispered, too embarrassed to look at her as she got off the swing and stopped your own.

"For me?" she asked as you jumped off as well and you could only nod. She reached up, ruffling the hair at the top of your head. "Thanks, Y/N," she didn't tell you you had to be a doctor, she didn't tell you you had to cure her, she just thanked her. "You sure we'll still be friends when we grow up?" there was something in her eyes, a sadness you saw only every now and then. Her dad left recently so you understood it had something to do with him.

"Yeah, I... I kinda wanna marry you, Tara, I really like you," you had no idea why you blurted it out all of a sudden, if it was to make her understand just how much you liked her, or if there was another reason, but you said it, and you meant it wholeheartedly.

Tara laughed at that and took your hand, it was time to leave the playground and go home.

~X~

Fifteen years and a lot of things happening later, Tara sat by your side in the bedroom the two of you shared. There were tons of your books and her movies on the shelves and she loved how personal the two of you made the room look. Chemistry, medicine and horror, an amazing combination if anyone asked her. She leaned against your shoulder as the two of you watched a movie. In the end, you didn't turn out to be a doctor, it just wasn't for you, but you did get into medical chemistry, so, as far as Tara was concerned it was close enough given it was a decision you made while you were still naive kids.

She watched you from the side, much like she did while you were children, and though both of you grew up she could still remember all the times you played without anyone else around.

"Say, Y/N," she began, happy that she could spend the night with you, her girlfriend of almost five years.

"Yeah?" you asked, looking away from the movie to look at her.

"I've been thinking of that time we were kids, on the playground," she began, smiling teasingly at you.

"Real specific T," you chuckled.

"You know, when you told me you wanted to be a doctor," she said to freshen up your memory.

You choked on your breath. "Ah, that time," you chuckled, clearly embarrassed as you rubbed the back of your head and looked away from her.

Tara's smile widened and she reached up to ruffle your hair. "It's okay, it's just me," she assured you and leaned in to softly kiss your lips.

"I know," you muttered against her lips, your hand moving to cup her cheek.

"Marry me?" she asked and you didn't choke this time.

"Of course," you just told her, and she couldn't be any happier. You kept your word to her, you stayed by her side, no matter how crazy her life got, she could count on you. And no matter how crazy things got in the future, she knew she'd still be able to count on you to have her back.

A/N: Special enough? 🤣🤣

#tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #scream #x reader #x female reader

[biolumien]

rooftop smoke

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader mentions of smoking wordcount: 1270

you weren’t drafted into the kaiju war effort because you were particularly strong or even because you were particularly good with handling a gun or a sword. 

you’re a ballistics expert. 

you’ve helped to perfect the rounds that izumo tech makes for guns, helped perfect missiles in the name of eradicating kaiju. you were hand-picked for the third division by mina ashiro herself, her thirst for revenge against kaiju rivaling your own. 

you’d met soshiro hoshina through mina, too. 

you remember him, at first. almost twitchy, a fresh-faced stranger to the third division, desperate to prove himself. the two of you had gotten along quite well—enough to share a strained kiss or two after a tough battle or two, initially—but the two of you had never talked about it for any longer than a faint touch of the lips, and you’d tasted something floral and fruity on his tongue, like he’d indulged in some kind of candy before he left to fight. 

but you’d never talked about it at all beyond a quick well-wishing for his safety before he holstered the katanas at the back of his suit, and turned away to meet his destiny. 

in the days after the fungal honju and yoju attack, you find yourself hanging out with hoshina—there’s an unspoken agreement, here—hoshina could have easily lost his life to kaiju no.8, which was still at large. 

“fancy a smoke?” hoshina holds out the pack of cigarettes to you—it’s the kind you like specifically—a little too sweet for most people, with an underlying cloy of tar that gets most people. 

“mm. when don’t i?” you say, taking the pack from him. “thought you didn’t. smoke, i mean. doesn’t it ruin your whole…” as you pull a cigarette from the pack, you gesture at him. “your whole image?” 

he snickers, a peek of a fang showing at the corner of his mouth. 

“i bought them for you,” he says. “lend me your ear for a moment, yeah?” 

so that’s how you wind up on the rooftop with hoshina. 

he’s staring daggers at the horizon, his jacket ever-so-slightly unzipped to reveal the hints of his collarbones. you definitely don’t stare, not even a little. 

tokyo’s skyline is peaceful. quiet. there is still reconstruction to do after the previous honju attacks–but it’s quiet for now, with no kaiju in sight. 

you flick open your lighter, snapping it several times to produce a small and unsteady flame. there’s a breeze, strong enough that the flame almost goes out, and hoshina leans forward to cup the flame in his palm, his crimson eyes peeking out for a moment. 

“what’s with the intense expression?” you drawl, taking a long drag of your cigarette, letting a puff of smoke escape your lips. “mighty scary there, hoshina.” 

hoshina’s usually all smiles—the cold kind that never reach his eyes, and this one is no different. he leans on his cheek, stares at you. he smirks. 

“thinking about last night,” he says, the smile on his lips twisting the tone of his words. “might’ve said a few things here and there, y’know. to the newbies.”

you stare for a moment. 

the newbies had gotten closer than you’d expected them to—you’d hardly gotten to know your fellow soldiers when you were inducted into the force, quite frankly—your skillset as a ballistics engineer kept you far and away from the majority of any grueling training, of seeing beloved companions being taken away in body bags. 

“ah, i get it. you told the newbies they weren’t allowed to fraternize. and now you’re getting cold feet about all of this?” you guess, sharp wit as always. hoshina snorts, pushing back from the railing of the rooftop before stepping closer to you. 

his bangs fall in front of his eyes, and in faint moonlight, you can see the faintest blemishes of his skin, where he might have scratched at his face too hard. 

“you don’t want this?” hoshina’s voice is quiet. 

“i’ve always been honest about what i want, soshiro,” you say. “just wondering if you know what you want.”

“what i want,” hoshina says. he sounds almost bitter as he looks away. “i want to be useful.” the pale column of his neck is something indeed. 

“you’re vice captain of the third division,” you say. “and mina’s yet to reach her full potential. she’ll be climbing up there in the ranks, with you by her side.” 

“using an obsolete method of kaiju slaying that hasn’t been useful for a century,” hoshina says, his placid demeanor belying bitter frustration underneath. he sighs for a moment. “i’m only useful in the sense that mina might still want something from me. without that, am i truly of use to anyone? am i any better than some toy you pick up for a little while, have your fun with, and then throw away?”

you take another drag of your cigarette, letting the smoke fill your lungs for a moment before you exhale upwards, careful not to get smoke in his face. 

hoshina laughs. 

“you’re useful to me,” you say. “a cliche line, i know. no romance behind it.” 

hoshina watches you, the peek of crimson eyes turning almost bloodred in the faint light.

“useful,” he repeats. “to you.”

“got a problem with it, pretty boy?” you rasp, staring up at him.

his face is boyish when he leans in close, curious as his hand touches your face. 

“mm. no,” hoshina says. “pretty boy?” he cocks his head. his thumb touches at your lower lip, right at the corner of your mouth where your cigarette hangs from your lip.

“that’s you,” you say. you lean into his touch subconsciously, chasing the callused touch of a palm that has held up the weight of the world. “if you want to be of use to someone, you can keep being of use to me. by promising you’ll come back alive, to me.”

you’re not the confessing type. you’re not. you’ve never talked about your feelings for soshiro hoshina besides admitting that you’ve had them once to yourself during a smoke break, when you pulled your cigarette from your lips and wished that hoshina was there to close the gap, to kiss you again like he meant it, instead of in a rushed, half-sloppy affair. 

hoshina’s eyes consider yours for a moment–searching your gaze for something. his thumb on your bottom lip shifts up, and touches the corner of your mouth. he plucks the cigarette from your lips, and you stare up at him, embarrassingly entranced.

“you’d like that,” hoshina whispers, and then he takes a drag of the cigarette. the tip of the cigarette glows a brilliant orange-yellow, and you wonder if hoshina will make fun of you for staring, before he exhales, half-coughing. “ha. what i get for trying to look cool in front of you, huh?”

his smile is all fangs, barely reaching the cold crimson of his eyes.

you stare at his lips shamelessly, at the way they upturn.

“aren’t you going to kiss me?” hoshina asks.

“huh?”

you blink at him.

“i’ve decided what i want,” hoshina murmurs. “and all you have to do is take it.”

so you do. you pull him forward by the collar of his plain shirt, poking out from his jacket, and he falls against you, presses his lips to yours in a move that might be described as reverent. he tastes faintly of your sweet cigarettes, and you kiss him and kiss him until you hope you can plunge your hands into his chest, and rewrite his core so that he might live and breathe for you. 

#kaiju no 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #x reader #kn8 x reader #how it be

[awkward-tension-art]

bad batch x artist (painter) reader?

I am SICK and have been traveling so please excuse any typos

Hunter

He’s gonna think your so talented, whether you paint land scapes, abstract, flowers, people etc

And he’s absolutely going to fuel your painting

Whenever the batch are on a planet with a market, he’s gonna try and find new paints for you

Even some brushes too!

I Hc that as a cadet, Hunter would doodle in his free time, so he might get back into it whenever you paint

So, some times, whenever your painting, he’ll sit nearby and start to doodle. Just the two of you in comfortable silence as you each do your own thing

Echo

Like Hunter, he’s going to also look for paints and stuff to gift you whenever the batch are on a friendly planet

He’s gonna go for the truly expensive, nice stuff. I’m talking stuff made from diamonds or shells or something

I can see Echo sitting next to you as you paint. There’s something so relaxing about the movements the brush makes on a canvas

Keeps whatever you paint. Unless you want to sell it, in which case, he’s gonna help you do that. Make sure you aren’t underselling your work

“Echo, we need the credits” “not at that price. You worked on this for several rotations. It’s worth at least double.”

Wrecker

Fascinated by everything you paint and how you paint it.

He is amazed by every work of art, no matter the style or subject matter

Gonna ask you to paint him. If you do he’s keeping it forever. For years. It’ll be hung up on the Marauder.

He’ll also brag about you and your talent a lot.

“My Cyare? Most talented artist. You want to see their work? Of course I’ll show you!”

He might accidentally break a few of your paint brushes. They’re fragile to him and sometimes he forgets his own strength.

But don’t worry! He’ll find you nicer, stronger ones to use!

Tech

Working on stuff together? Working on stuff together.

He will want to work on his own projects while you paint. You guys just spend relaxed, quiet time together as you do your own things.

He honestly loves the sounds of you painting. The brush on canvas. Mixing paints. All of that.

He might try his hand at painting if you teach him. He knows he’ll never be as talented as you, but he’s a quick learner

Painting isn’t something he’ll particularly stick to though. He prefers his own projects, but he really enjoyed learning from you.

Crosshair

Not going to lie, he’s actually kind of interested in painting when he sees you paint for the first time.

He has the eye for detail, and the patience for it as well.

So, after a while of being together, he’ll sheepishly ask if he can paint with you too. Just to try it, of course!

Turns out you might have found him a new hobby he enjoys

Like his brothers, if he sees some quality paints or brushes, he’ll get them to gift them to you.

Sometimes he likes to play a little game and at the beginning of a new painting, he’s gonna try and guess what it is

He gets it right a lot of time, to be honest. Like I said, he has the eye for detail.

Bonus:

Omega (platonic obv)

Gonna want to paint

She wants to learn! And ends up really enjoying it!

I mean, her brothers s/o is a talented artist! She wants to do what you do!

And she loves it. Is super proud of her first painting. Your the first person she shows <3

#reader insert #the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #tbb headcanons #hunter x reader #echo x reader #tech x reader #wrecker x reader #crosshair x reader #tbb hunter #tbb echo #tbb wrecker #tbb tech #tbb crosshair

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

you think kankri and cronus

like all the dancestors, kankri and cronus mirror their counterparts (and as we all know, karkat and eridan are soul mates), but the brief interaction we do see of them makes them seem pretty toxic for each other. i think it's funny for that reason though!

Karkat and Kankri both love going on long, endless rants and walls of text, but where Karkat fills his spiels with self-loathing, Kankri fills his with incredible smugness and self-satisfaction (often calling his spiels "sermons" or "lectures" before catching himself and correcting them to "discussions" or "conversations," which have a less one-sided "i'm right and you're wrong" connotation). Moreover, where Karkat loves all his friends, and masks that under disdainful insults and screaming obscenities, Kankri tends to hold his friends in contempt, masking that under kind language and politeness.

KANKRI: And really, it's every9ne's 6usiness t9 examine their privilege, even 6urgundies, wh9 may 6e su6ject t9 the pitfall 9f 6elieving inc9rrectly there are n9ne 9n the scale 6eneath them wh9m they enj9y certain privileges 9ver, which 9ff-spectrum tr9lls will never kn9w, such as th9se identifying as 9ther6l99ds 9r caste-multiples, "p9ly6l99ded", any wh9 hem9gl96ically ID as having a caste which manifests n9where (as yet kn9wn) in any9ne physically, 9r f9r that matter 9ffspecs wh9 physically d9 p9ssess such a 6l99d type, 9r "mutants" (VERY pr96lematic term, highly triggering t9 s9me, 6e warned), such as y9u and I, Karkat.

Translation: lowbloods think they have it SO HARD, try being a mutant 🙄

KANKRI: I just think there is inherent danger in muddying the waters 9f disc9urse 6y intr9ducing s9cial issues which are suspect at 6est, thus c9nsuming crucial res9urces fr9m the limited cache 9f rhet9ric which pr9pels these narratives. And furtherm9re, 9ne c9uld argue it's m9re than a little pr96lematic, 9ffensive even, f9r y9u t9 6e appr9priating the lexic9n 9f sensitivity used t9 advance awareness 9f maj9r issues, thus reducing it t9 the level 6uzzspeak and pseud9science. It makes it m9re difficult f9r th9se 9f us wh9 are genuinely f9cused 9n p9sitive change t9 6e taken seri9usly, that's all. PORRIM: Appro+priating?? #That's no+t #what that even #means? PORRIM: PSEUDOSCIENCE??? #Yo+u did no+t just… KANKRI: I'm s9rry, I just d9n't think there's much there. We aren't like humans, wh9se species 6izarrely en9ugh includes highly specialized r9les f9r 69th sexes in the pr9cess 9f repr9ducti9n, and s9 this naturally had s9cial ramificati9ns f9r the way their civilizati9n ev9lved. 6ut that's n9t h9w it w9rks f9r us, s9 I fail t9 see h9w gender fact9rs int9 the discussi9n in a way that can 6e effectively and rati9nally pr96lematized. Where is the r99m f9r unexamined privilege in the dich9t9my? I d9n't see it. And appr9priating the talking p9ints and awareness-raising tactics f9r du6i9us issues like this is, frankly, fr9wned up9n, t9 put it p9litely. Such appr9priative gestures 9nly serve t9 marginalize and invalidate th9se su6ject t9 seri9us, real life struggles and 9ppressi9n, and I guess I'm a little disapp9inted t9 see y9u 6eing s9 6lithely and inappr9priately appr9priat9ry. #Fr9wned up9n #Fr9wns all ar9und #Welc9me t9 fr9wn t9wn PORRIM: Kanny, I'm starting to+ feel just a little bit triggered by all this "appro+priatio+n" bullshit. #Trigger warning: #Abo+ut to+ kick yo+ur tall pantsed ass KANKRI: 9h! My sincere ap9l9gies. I sh9uld have d9ne a 6etter j96 tagging my statements, 6ut f9r future reference, it's helpful t9 alert y9ur c9nversati9nal partners t9 y9ur triggers well in advance. Sh9uld I g9 fetch y9ur m9irail t9 help settle y9u d9wn? And if s9, wh9 exactly w9uld 6e filling that quadrant t9day? #It's the may9r, right? #G9tta 6e the may9r

Translation: Stop trying to steal my spotlight by bringing up your own social justice pursuits. Shut the fuck up. Oh, are you offended? Maybe you should go cry to your moirail. Slut. God I hate women.

KANKRI: 9n the 9ther hand, if I'm 6eing h9nest, I've f9und Mituna's entire existence t9 6e a pretty pr96lematic impediment t9 the advancement and 9verall awareness 9f a6leism and its painful manif9ld c9nsequences f9r una6ilitied pers9ns. The speech impediment, frankly, I c9uld d9 with9ut, and I'm 6y n9 means ecstatic 9ver his t9rrential 6ig9try and h9stility. 9n the 9ne hand, I want t9 6e sensitive t9 him as a pers9n and as a friend, 6ut 9n the 9ther, what kind 9f message d9es his 6ehavi9r send? And frankly, I'm n9t crazy a69ut the helmet, either. MITUNA: W4LT5 WR00NG W17H MY H4ML37 8( KANKRI: N9thing, friend, it's a really c99l helmet and it's a g99d l99k f9r y9u. 6ut are we n9w t9 assume that all th9se wh9 are stricken with y9ur particular disadvantage9n will 6e similarly pr9ne t9 require such headgear, due t9 falling d9wn and hitting their heads frequently? MITUNA: 8U7H 1 D0 F4LL D0WN 4ND H157 MY H34D FR3QUN3UN74NY KANKRI: 9h, I kn9w y9u d9, and I think y9u sh9uld c9ntinue wearing it f9r y9ur safety, particularly if y9u c9ntinue t9 insist 9n fl9undering a69ut 9n y9ur danger9us t9y. It's m9re a69ut the unf9rtunate message y9u are sending 9verall, with certain aspects 9f y9ur pers9nality and existence, that's all. MITUNA: 1M 50RRY KANKRI: As a friend, I w9uldn't want t9 change anything a69ut y9u, well, n9t m9st things. I just think y9u may n9t 6e d9ing y9urself 9r th9se wh9 are similarly disadvantaged any fav9rs with, what I'm h9ping, is a perfectly inn9cent array 9f traits and mannerisms. 8ut again, I say this with all due sensitivity. MEENAH: vantas youre being a shit dont talk about him like that

Translation: Mituna, you're such a goddamn embarrassment, I wish everything about you was completely different.

The big difference between Beforus and Alternia is also the definition of "culling," which on one meant killing and the other meant coddling. Naturally, this is its own form of oppression, as the longer-lived highbloods still hold great power over the lives and fates of those deemed cull-worthy, which includes a lot of lowbloods, and definitely mutants like Kankri who didn't have a lusus. However, it creates a different kind of mindset from that of more standard abuse, like what Karkat suffered for his off-spectrum nature - where Karkat spent every day fearing for his life and cursing himself:

Your name is KARKAT VANTAS. As was previously mentioned, it is your WRIGGLING DAY, which is barely even worth mentioning. It is an anniversary, if anything, to lament the faults of your existence, of which there are assuredly plenty.

Kankri was experiencing the opposite: being told that his mutation made him exceptional, made him special, made him MORE worthy of attention and praise than other people. At the same time, his agency was taken away from him, but the thing is, being 13 when he started the game, I don't necessarily think he'd have missed that - around the age of 13 is when kids START to crave agency, and he got it by playing the game. Kankri's dialogue suggests to me that he genuinely believes in his superiority to the people around him, more in line with being spoilt.

This is why, although he talks a big game about how bad casteism is, and how you shouldn't say slurs because they're offensive, he still unironically uses the term "Royal-V" to refer to violet bloods and chastises Mituna for calling Meenah a wader, which is an anti-seadweller (and anti-seadweller apologist) insult. Sure, he acknowledges within that chastisement that because Meenah and Royal-V's DO have privilege, the weight of the insult is not exactly the same, but then he follows up by saying that he wishes everything about Mituna was different, to the point MEENAH feels the need to defend him.

This is because Kankri is a fucking wader.

If you'll notice, he's actually quite agreeable and sympathetic to Meenah (despite Meenah being a confirmed bully, especially to the team rustblood):

KANKRI: Wh9a, Meenah. I didn't see y9u c9me in. Y9u sh9uld have c9me say hell9. ... KANKRI: I've als9 heard y9u're recruiting mem6ers f9r a militia? An9ther 69ld endeav9r. N9t surprising, th9ugh. 6ef9re y9u em6ark, I d9 h9pe y9u'll set aside at least several sweeps t9 listen t9 s9me 9f my…

KANKRI: And Meenah, while I can understand y9ur frustrati9n 9ver 6eing ver6ally assaulted under any circumstance, it is incum6ent 9n me t9 remind y9u that Mituna requires a certain am9unt 9f special c9nsiderati9n and m9re than a little patience. Please try t9 resist taking his 6ait, which I'm guessing is m9stly well intended(?), 6ef9re its c9ntenti9us undert9w pulls y9u further int9 an exchange laden with deeply pr96lematic expressi9ns 9f a6leism, a6leist slurs, and 9ther such manifestati9ns 9f unc9nsci9na6ly unchecked a6ility privilege.  #a6leism #a6ility privilege #6ait #undert9w #are the aquatic terms helping?

... And he's nice to Cronus. I just don't think it's a coincidence that Kankri is super mean and shitty to land dwellers, while being super kind to the two sea dwellers on the team, the caste he was presumably culled (raised) by - to the point of emulating their aquatic terms to try and ingratiate himself to them (something Karkat thinks is stupid and cringe.).

KARKAT: (not really.) #SHELLF IMPORTANT ABALONEY? #GODDAMN SEADWELLERS

And that brings us to Cronus. Now, I've written extensively about how Eridan is not actually casteist, but the TL;DR is that Eridan genuinely doesn't treat people differently based on their caste, but it's societally expected of him and he has an overwhelming amount of anxiety about living up to those expectations, so he will say a lot of slurs. He and Feferi are actually the only two highbloods that never say anything disparaging about Karkat's blood color.

In contrast, Cronus is a casteist; where Eridan tries to play up how casteist he is while secretly not being so, Cronus does the opposite and tries to play down how casteist he is while secretly being so.

CRONUS: nowv, please don't tell anyone i said so, but you and i both knowv pretty much all these people should feel honored to go out vwith a guy like me. CRONUS: vwhat being royalty and all, and not evwen slightly put off by dating dowvn on the spectrum. i mean, really, howv much more evwident can i make it to evweryone that im really a cool, progressivwe, easy going dude, vwho doesnt take the social order seriously or buy into any of the stereotypes? first of all, as if the hemospectrum scene isnt 8EYOND played out. #you should be sticking your fork in THAT CRONUS: i barely EVWER evwen bring up my high social status. it couldnt be LESS of a big deal to me, but i think people maybe are still intimidated by it? theyre probably putting me on a pedestal, in spite of all my easy going assurances that my royal lineage is something i nevwer evwen think about. like, no friend, i am just like you. vwe laugh at the same jokes, listen to, vwell, to some extent, the same music… #i at least USED to listen to music you like #does that count? CRONUS: all these cats and kittens, im telling you. theyre alvways drawvn to the freaks and rejects. you havwe to be 8ROKEN in some vway to get a little concupiscent attention. #cats #kittens #freaks #rejects #broken

You got a whole bunch of SEA DWELLER BLING! It's pretty obvious this all belongs to Cronus over there. He's just not wearing it right now so he can convince everyone he doesn't feel like his royalty status is a big deal, even though he does.

Moreover, we get a direct parallel to Eridan's final conversation between him, Feferi, and Sollux, with the interaction Cronus has with Meenah and Mituna - in both cases, the violet-blood has a crush on their fuchsia, while probably having some sort of blackrom thing with the mustard (ashen for Eridan, pitch for Cronus). The differences really highlight how different the two are.

First, Eridan doesn't actually mean all the casteist things he says to Sollux - we know this because he's actually mentioned Sollux twice before, and both times, felt no need to comment on Sollux's lowblood status at all. Eridan is so transparently full of shit that even his own teammates don't think he's actually being casteist, and instead take it as ashenflirting:

ERIDAN: hey finless this doesnt concern those wwith mustard sludge slippin through their vveins ERIDAN: its a matter for royalty only ERIDAN: so keep your mouth closed or ill slit you open ovver my next meal SOLLUX: w/e bro, not iintere2ted. FEFERI: -Eridan, please! I don't want to see any more dueling. FEFERI: Don't try to provoke )(im. It's not like I don't know w)( you're doing! You keep trying to spark a rivalry wit)( )(im to get me to auspiticize between you two, and pull us out of your quadrant! FEFERI: It is t)(e oldest and lamest trick in t)(e book. It didn't work t)(en and it won't work now!

But while Eridan leads with casteism he doesn't mean, after being rejected by his fuchsia blood, Cronus rounds on Mituna to vent his frustration, revealing HIS real feelings:

CRONUS: i said shut up. do you havwe any idea vwhat a man of my class vwould do if a mustard blood like you spoke to me this vway on alternia? honestly, sometimes i think i vwas hatched in the vwrong univwerse, let ALONE the vwrong body. CRONUS: i am so sick of havwing to pretend to treat you vwith the dignity you vwouldnt deservwe evwen if you COULD count the scars on my forehead. you couldnt tell me the ansvwer if i asked vwhat your favworite number vwas. ... CRONUS: you are a brain damaged reject on a team full of rejects. a rejects reject. i vwould havwe culled you myself if that vword meant vwhat it should havwe on our planet.

Moreover, Eridan is genuinely wracked with emotional anguish basically 24/7, but he refuses to allow anyone else to provide him with emotional support, lashing out at Feferi when she insinuates that she's been taking care of him up to that point.

CC: I can’t look after you anymore. CA: I DIDNT EVER NEED ANYONE TO LOOK AFTER ME CA: i was totally fuckin fine my ambitions were noble

On the other hand, Cronus outright admits that his constant talk of being a "sensitivwe soul" is bullshit he uses to attract the ladies:

MITUNA: 1M 50RRY CRONUS: no youre not. youre lying. CRONUS: your vwhole bifurcated demeanor is such an act. half the time you are noxious and incomprehensible, and the other half you are mild and contrite? sure, "PAL." CRONUS: as if im not SO on to you. you only pretend to say youre sorry to get girls to like you more. sure seems like pyropes a sucker for the ruse. like im not familiar vwith THOSE tactics. vwho do you think vwrote the book on that??

CRONUS: guess ill attempt ghost suicide YET AGAIN. CRONUS: of course by vwhich i mean, tell people i did, to vwin sympathy points. MITUNA: D0357H H47 W0RK CRONUS: not really.

This isn't to say that Cronus doesn't have legitimate emotional issues - just that they aren't the ones he says that they are. When Aranea is expositing on Cronus to Meenah, she winds up explaining that Cronus used to believe in a prophecy where he was Harry Potter and LE was Voldemort, and that it was his destiny to destroy this evil wizard, but that his team basically bullied that belief out of him:

ARANEA: The 8ard of Hope may seem a little jaded these days, 8ut he once had a deeply a8iding faith in magic, and dedicated himself to 8ecoming a great wizard. He 8ecame convinced he was hatched to defeat an extraordinarily evil magician, one he swore the angels foretold of. [...] I'm unsure why he suffered this crisis of faith, aside from the o8vious reasons having to do with an overall lack of character, or any other redeeming qualities. Perhaps someone talked him out of his 8eliefs. May8e a friend close to him. Or, if one is to 8elieve his fantasy held any water, perhaps someone who was in league with the evil magician. Whatever the case, it was pro8a8ly for the 8est, since pretty much everyone who had half a think pan thought it was all a 8unch of ridiculous nonsense.

Which, you know, given that he was their HOPE player, was probably a not-good thing that they did. Put a pin in this conversation, we'll return to it in a bit.

His humankin stuff is mostly treated as a joke, but it's also a symptom of this - we know that it's actually a portal to something Cronus genuinely feels bad about, because despite complaining about how you need to have something wrong with you to get concupiscent action, he's uncomfortable bringing it up to Meenah.

MEENAH: i heard a rumor you think youre a human now MEENAH: that true CRONUS: its a privwate matter. i dont see vwhy i should havwe to talk about it vwith you, and open myself up to more of your judgmental scorn.

He's a Hope player who lost what he believes in - so his actual emotional problems stem from directionlessness, exacerbated by the fact that he's generally untalented, feels entitled due to his high caste and resentful that it's not being respected, and doesn't seem to have any real goals aside from sleeping with other people (and now he's dead). As a result, he's clung onto this idea that maybe the reason he feels so empty inside is because he's not actually a troll - not wanting to be himself, he tries to be something else.

So let's go back to the pin we put into Aranea talking about how he was talked out of his beliefs. Cronus very nearly reaches self-awareness about how being humankin is just a cover for his actual emotional problems... and then "a friend close to him" - maybe the only friend close to him that he has - talked him out of that epiphany.

KANKRI: Listen, I was d9ing y9u a fav9r. Y9u d9n't need t9 6e dating any9ne wh9 can't appreciate y9u f9r wh9 y9u really are, 9r m9re imp9rtantly, which fantasy versi9n 9f y9urself y9u m9st str9ngly identify with. CRONUS: yeah, youre probably right. she doesnt appreciate me. so fevw of you cats do, really. #evwen the ones vwho literally identify as cats CRONUS: to be honest, she might be right. sometimes i think i might only be saying im a human to get attention. maybe i should givwe it up. KANKRI: I'd 6e extremely disapp9inted t9 hear that, if it were true. That w9uld 6e such a slap in the face t9 all th9se wh9 kn9w themselves t9 6e an alien while trapped in the pedestrian 69dy 9f their 9wn race. It w9uld 6e unspeaka6ly invalidating 9f their struggles and massively triggering t9 their em9ti9ns. #TW #invalidated struggles #triggered em9ti9ns KANKRI: 6ut f9rtunately, I kn9w y9u w9uld never st99p as l9w as that. Y9u understanda6ly have d9u6ts a69ut y9ur feelings and pr96a6ly d9wnplay them as a defense mechanism, since s9 few are prepared t9 rec9gnize the legitimacy 9f y9ur plight. 6ut I am, and I just wanted y9u t9 kn9w that I'm here f9r y9u, and am prepared t9 lecture t9 y9u extensively, I mean, listen t9 y9u extensively, a69ut y9ur ultra-imp9rtant pr96lem. CRONUS: vwowv. thanks, pal. CRONUS: youre right. my feelings really are real. not fake, like the huge disappointing fraud that magic turned out to be. CRONUS: i guess the truth is, deep dowvn i alvways knewv i vwas a 1950s-style human greaser. CRONUS: i just needed to finally be introduced to human culture to make sense of those feelings. KANKRI: W9nderful. I'm s9 happy y9u have f9und the light 9f truth within y9urself. N9w j9in me in tagging 9ur discussi9n with righte9us warnings, as we c9nsecrate y9ur disadvantage in the h9ly annals 9f Pr96lematics.

She also mentions it might have been someone "in league with the evil wizard," which would indicate Damara or Kurloz, but he never mentions Damara even once, and he actually seems to be on neutral terms with Kurloz:

and i vwouldnt dare to intrude on your longstanding moirallegiance vwith kurloz, and not because he scares the shit out of me either. that just really seems to vwork, you and him, doesnt it? i dont get a peep out of him of course, not evwen if im super nice and compliment his hideous hair[.]

So since we literally see Kankri exacerbating Cronus's problem by not only insisting that he not introspect, but expresses that he would be extremely disappointed in Cronus if Cronus did, I'm inclined to believe that the one who talked the Hope player into giving up his Hope beliefs was Kankri.

So what I'm saying is, if Karkat and Eridan are beautiful soul mates who make each other better in basically every way, Kankri and Cronus are incredibly toxic for each other and are in desperate need of a fucking auspice. Somebody please middle leaf these two, they cannot be left alone. Kankri's wader tendencies validate Cronus's entitlement and stagnation, and Kankri loves manipulating Cronus into believing whatever BS Kankri is espousing, because that's how Kankri gets his validation.

Kankri and Cronus means love loses.

Thank you for reading.

#homestuck #eridan ampora #erikar #karkat vantas #cronus ampora #kankri vantas #crokri #this is very critical of crokri so please don't read if you think they're a cute/sweet/wholesome couple #actually i really like cronus and meenah as moirails #meenah stops cronus from shitting on mituna #and then they immediately jump into taking each other to task for their own personal failings (& cronus IGNORES HER saying 'lets make out') #to the point cronus actually considers that maybe he should stop with the humankin thing before kankri ruins it #and since kankri is the SEER of BLOOD and his convo with cronus honestly sounds so so so much like paleflirting #'oh dw cronus ill listen to ur ultra important problems' #it kind of gives me the vibe that kankri jumped in BECAUSE he doesn't want cronus and meenah to figure that out #and also itd be really funny and thematically appropriate #if eridan and karkat were great for each other and cronus and kankri are horrible each other #that cronus and meenah's problem is that cronus keeps trying to pursue her in flushed when he really feels pale #when eridan and feferi started out pale but wound up with eridan loving her flushed