#anyways here's the real juicy content you all come here for | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

billlydear · 1 year

Text

BASIC BIOLOGY - BILLY HARGROVE X READER (PART TWO) | PART ONE | PART THREE

word count: 7396 // masterlist | inbox (please request) | WIP list

Summary: you're paired with billy for a biology project. you only visit his house once, but it's enough for you to understand why he doesn't want you to come over again. when he starts showing up more and more in your life, you realize that it's basic biology: you were made for him, and he was made for you.

Contents: graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of injuries, angst, fluff, happy ending

A/N: i hope you like this chapter! Billy and his love starvation seem like they’d latch onto the first real love they get, and I tried to establish that here. Please let me know what you think! 💞

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

You don’t expect to see Billy again for a while. Even though he’d thanked you, sincerely, awestruck, you hadn’t suffered through the tense car ride for nothing. He clearly didn’t want to talk to you about it, and he assumes you’ll pry.

You don’t really blame him, either. Because you want to pry. You want to beg for information, plead with him to give you a rundown of what hurts and where, so that you can fix it all. And then you want to pry about any particular allergies of his father’s, so that you can serve him shellfish pasta and make his death look like an accident.

It turns out, though, that you see him the very next day.

You don’t have your own car, nor can you even drive. You’re scared of it, of the thought of that much mechanical power granted to a simple human being, and you’d much rather walk or take the bus anyways. Your bike has a flat tire, or you’d be using it to ride back from the store.

All you’d picked up was a bottle of coke and a pack of gum - juicy fruit. The coke sweats a stain through the pocket of your jeans, but it’s secure, and not grating callouses against your fingertips with its puckered cap. All you hear is the thundering roar of cars speeding down the street next to you, your feet slamming against the pavement as you power walk home.

You’re only ten minutes out, in the final stretch, when you hear a particularly loud engine. It’s gotta be from a muscle car, and you wait for it to pass so that you can look without being obvious. But it doesn’t pass, the engine revs and then chugs once more, slowing to a stop right beside you.

You’re not in the practice of looking over at cars that stop next to you on the road, something eerie about the situation. But when you hear a newly-familiar voice say your name, you stop in your tracks.

“Y/N,” Billy calls, leaning over the empty passenger’s seat to brace his hand on the open window, “Hey, you need a ride?”

His face is red. It’s subtle, and you think that maybe there’s- is that makeup over it? Either way, you know there’s a mark, and you know why there’s a mark.

“Uh,” You stammer, glancing ahead at the sidewalk, “I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

“Where are you going?” He raises an eyebrow, “Aren’t you hot?”

“A little,” You become hyper aware of the sweat sticking to your forehead, the stickiness of your socks against your feet, “It’s fine, though. It’s only, like, ten minutes home.”

“Just get in,” He squints up at you, the sun in his eyes, “I’m heading that way anyways.”

“Okay..” You comply, ducking down to step off of the curb and fit yourself into his camaro, “Are you sure it’s not a problem?”

“Not at all,” He straightens up from where he’d been leaning out the window so that you can sit down, but he braces his hand on the back of your headrest. He uses it as leverage to look behind him to make sure he’s not pulling out into traffic, and when it’s safe, he peels away from the curb in what you now know is typical Billy fashion. Tires squealing, engine revving, confidence in his eyes.

“So,” You hum, digging the coke bottle out of your pocket so that you don’t smash it, “Why are you gonna be over by my place?”

“Oh,” he laughs, shaking his head, “I’m not. I just lied, knew you wouldn’t get in unless I said that.”

You let out an incredulous laugh, “Billy! You lied!”

“And,” He grins, nodding and readjusting his hands on the wheel as he turns you around a corner, “It worked, didn’t it? And now you’ve got a ride.”

“Thank you, Billy,” At your words you remember his own from the night prior, stiffening slightly in your seat, “Um, are you.. okay? Last night was.. Intense.”

“Yeah,” He takes a moment to answer, but when he does his voice is stronger than it was last night. He keeps himself preoccupied with ducking slightly to check his blind spot, “It’s nothing. I’m, uh- I’m used to it.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re okay, though.” You mumble, “Does it hurt?”

“Seriously,” He shakes his head, his curls flying around his shoulders, “Doesn’t matter. Just.. forget about it, okay?”

“Billy,” You gush, wanting so badly to respect his wishes for the sake of not starting an argument. But how were you supposed to forget possibly the scariest experience of your life?

“I’m not going to go around town blabbing,” You swear, “But don’t you think we should tell someone?”

“No,” He insists, voice sharp, “Because if he doesn’t get hauled in, then I get my ass beat, maybe even killed. And if he does get hauled in, then I’m the man of the house. And my summer job barely pays for the gas money it takes to get there, and Max is too young to work, and Susan probably doesn’t even want me, so then I’d be out on my ass, and- just.. No. It wouldn’t work.”

He’s heated now, cheeks flushed and eyes wild. His chest heaves with the breaths he wasn’t taking when he was rambling, and you let him catch up before you talk again.

“Okay,” You take care to keep your voice calm and soothing, “Okay, yeah, that makes sense. I won’t tell anyone, Billy, not if you don’t want me to. But.. but something has to give, y’know? I meant what I said last night,” You fiddle with the ridges on the cap of your coke bottle, “Come over anytime.”

He meets your eye in the rear view mirror, and no words are needed. There’s a tenderness in your eyes that’s reflected in his own, and beneath the cockiness that he slathers over himself, you see sincerity peeking through. He nods and it’s grateful, hopeful, even.

“You want a burger?” He sniffs, scrunching his nose and changing the subject. His hands are prying at the wheel, turning the car down a road before you can respond, but you’ve got leftover cash from the convenience store, so you nod.

“Sure,” You nod, “Uh, I guess I don’t owe you pizza money anymore.”

“No,” You’re glad that he takes it as a joke, instead of a painful reminder of the night before, “Max should be the one paying me, Jesus, I mean she ate half the box.”

“She’s a growing girl,” You scold him, “She needs her nutrients.”

“Oh, yeah, melted cheese and greasy pepperoni, real nutritious.” He scoffs, but there’s a smile on his face, “What’s your order, Doctor Nutrient?”

You’re tempted to order a salad just to fuck with him. But you don’t, you let out a breathy laugh and recite your burger preference. He nods, pulling up to the window of the only drive-thru fast food restaurant in town.

Part of you is that glad that you don’t go inside, and part of you is crushed.

On one hand, you’re sweaty from walking, and you probably don’t look your best because of it. You don’t feel like being in the public eye right now, you feel like curling up on your couch and relaxing for the rest of the day.

But on the other hand, what is Billy feeling? Part of you, deep inside, a horrid little piece that wants to make you sad, tells you that he’s not going to go into a burger place with you because he’s embarrassed to be seen with you. That you do look sweaty and gross, and that he’s not going to risk his reputation for some girl in his biology class. You thought you’d had a sort of breakthrough with him, unlocked some part of him that no one else had, because of those minutes stuck hiding in his closet. You’d thought you were maybe even friends, not just partners for class.

But he orders and pays for a meal to-go, and you’re silent as his wheels screech against the asphalt as he pulls into a parking space.

“Here,” He hands you the tray that they’d given you, spreading a meager, flimsy napkin over his lap in its absence, “You take that, and just keep my fries in there while I eat this.”

“We can share it,” You offer, scrambling to balance the tray on the divider between your seats, but he pushes it back into your lap with a shake of his head and a large, strong hand, “No, no, don’t worry about it. One of us should have an easy lunch.”

“Thanks,” You murmur, choosing to stuff your mouth with burger instead of voice any of your internal monologue out loud. You eat in silence for a few bites, blaming it on your mouthful of food instead of your awkward reservations. But he glances over to get a fry, and sees you staring out the windshield, lost in space.

“Is yours drugged or something?” He teases, elbowing you gently in the side, “You’re zoning out, hard.”

“Oh,” You take a deep breath, chewing the last of your burger and swallowing it, picking at your fries, “No, I think I’m just tired from walking.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s good I picked you up, then. Where were you even walking?”

“Corner store,” You mumble around a mouthful of burger, “I wanted a coke. Oh,” You remember, sticking a hopefully-clean hand into your pocket to retrieve your cash, “Here, for the burger.”

“‘S fine,” He waves you off, “It was, like, two bucks. Don’t sweat it.”

“Billy,” You huff, “Just let me pay you back!”

“No,” He drawls, sipping from his fountain drink, “Stop arguing, or I’ll kick you out of the car.”

You fall silent, neglecting to remind him that you weren’t in his car to begin with.

“So,” His eyes flash over the stereo, and he breaks the momentary lull in conversation, “What kind of music are you into?”

“Anything, really,” You shrug, “I like it all.”

“Even pop?” His nose wrinkles, and he stares accusatorily at you from his seat.

“Pop’s fine,” You nod, “Classical is only nice when I’m trying to study.”

“Classi- Like, piano and shit? Jesus,” He laughs incredulously, “Are you ninety?”

“Hey,” Your mouth falls open, and you fall easily into teasing banter with him, “Classical music is not for old people! It’s for people who need music on to study but get distracted by lyrics.”

“Metal’s good for that, too,” He reaches across the center divider to snatch a fry from the tray, “It’s, like, 90% guitar, and half the lyrics don’t even make sense, anyways. Nothing to pay attention to.”

“I’m not surprised you like metal,” You hum, “Did a Mötley Crüe tape come with this car?”

“No,” He insists, and you catch the flash of his grin from the side of your eye, “I bought it on the way back from the dealership.”

He doesn’t want to drown out your giggles with music, so he waits until you take another bite to pop a tape in.

“That’s real music,” He boasts as the sound blares to life, “None of that violin shit.”

“I like metal,” You promise him, foot tempted to tap to the beat of the drums, “It’s just not all I listen to.”

“Yeah, well it’s gonna be all you listen to in here,” He assures you, “I’m gonna turn you into a diehard.”

“You have all of, what, twenty minutes?” You laugh, “Billy, how often do you think I’m gonna be in your car?”

“Whenever you want,” He shrugs, “You think I’m gonna let you haul your ass around town without a car?”

“Billy,” You frown, swallowing roughly to stare suspiciously at him, “What are you talking about? You barely even know me, why are you acting like my chauffeur all of a sudden?”

“Barely even know you-” He scoffs, jamming a fry into the ketchup that’s pooled on your tray, “We’re friends, dumbass. That’s how friendship works, right? We do shit for each other?”

Your heart thuds to your stomach. Friends? An hour ago you wouldn’t have even called Billy Hargrove your acquaintance. Sure, you knew each other. Hell, you probably knew more about him than anyone else in school. But not because he told you, because you found out. It was an accident, a fluke, a mistake. He didn’t tell you on purpose, so it didn’t mean you were close. But maybe you were, maybe his borderline kidnapping of you was because he cared, because he liked you.

“Yeah,” You decide, “Yeah, we’re friends. And that’s what friends do. I just.. I can’t offer you much, can I? I mean, shit, you won’t even let me give you a $5 for lunch.”

His eyes narrow, and you’re nervous you said something wrong. He huffs out a sigh, jaw tightening, “Jesus, Y/N, are you gonna make me spell it out?”

“What?”

“You offered me a place to stay,” He mumbles, glaring daggers at his keys in the ignition, “That’s.. A lot, okay? And I appreciate it.” He says it almost angrily, and if you weren’t so taken aback, you might have laughed.

“So I don’t mind dumping you where you need to be. Or spotting you for lunch.”

“Thank you,” You echo his sentiment from last night, hoping that even though they’re about a burger and not a home, they’re just as sincere, “Thanks, Billy.”

“Don’t mention it,” He grumbles, stuffing the rest of his burger into his mouth so that he doesn’t have to speak.

Being friends with Billy Hargrove is interesting. He’s brash, abrasive, but he cares in his own way, you find out, when he stops hard at a red light and throws his arm out over your chest.

“Sorry,” He mumbles, gruff and stiff, “You okay?”

“Fine,” You nod, a little breathless from how the seat belt had rubbed against your skin, “You can pull over here, if you want. I can run around the back, it’s unlocked already.”

“I’m not dropping you off at the curb,” He scoffs, “I think I can manage your driveway.”

“Fine,” You tease, “I was just trying to make it easier for you.”

A small smile curves over his lips at your tone, and you know he’s not upset. You’re starting to realize that being friends with Billy is easy, as soon as you accept that he can be harsh. He’s not the type of friend to gush about feelings, you don’t think, preferring to quip back and forth, and you can handle that.

He pulls into your driveway, and spots a familiar red car parked three houses down.

“You’re neighbors with Harrington?” His eyes shade over with something that can’t be good, considering his well-known feelings towards the other boy.

“No,” You shake your head, “No, that’s his friend’s house. He just drives him around sometimes, I think. That’s what friends do, isn’t it?”

You shoot him a grin as your head rests against the headrest of your seat, and he can’t argue with that. He rolls his eyes despite the growing grin on his lips, and he reaches over to shove you.

“Get out of my car,” He groans, “And- here,” He tears a shred of napkin off of the leftover stash from lunch, digging for a pen to scrawl his number, “Call me whenever you need a ride. Or good music to listen to.”

“I’m gonna go study to Chopin,” You leer at him from your front steps, and he lunges, reaching out the driver’s side window to reach for you. You shriek, jumping out of the way before he can grab you, and it pulls a long, hearty laugh from his chest.

“Take it,” He reaches into his glove compartment to pull out a tape, red-and-black designs etched over the front, “I’m not driving away until I hear it blasting from your window,”

“My parents are home,” You gush, fingers curling around the plastic case, “I can’t!”

“Headphones, then,” He insists, eyes alight with amusement, “I’m expecting you to know the words the next time I see you.”

It’s a hefty promise to make, but you do so with a smile on your face.

You don’t get much studying done amongst Metallica. It’s hard to focus on finishing your biology project when you recognize a song you’d heard earlier in Billy’s car, and you hum the familiar tune, thinking of the way he’d tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the drums.

You think you’ve figured him out. He’s vibrant when he knows he’s alone, when he knows he’s safe. He’d panicked hearing that car door, those voices outside. He’d been rough, jagged, hurtful. But in his element, flying down the road with music blaring from his speakers, he’d been happy. All he needs is a safe place, and you’re glad he has one, even if it isn’t his home.

Biology is easy to finish, because you only have to cover half of the slack from being sent home early last night. Billy knows which of the last two drawings to complete, and you tuck your finished ones away in your folder, pulling out a sheet of math work to tackle next. Unfortunately, it’s less simple.

Dinner comes and goes, and you’re still working by the time the sky bleeds black. You’d been using the light from the window to aid you in your homework, so when it finally covers you in enough shadow to make you squint, you give up and make for your light switch.

It flicks on with a click, and when you whirl around to settle back on your bed, there’s a face in your window. You scream, backing yourself up against the door in the split second before you recognize the features.

Billy is staring at you from the window, hand up to the glass. You hear commotion from downstairs, a quick shout of ‘Are you okay up there?’ and thundering feet towards the hallway.

“I’m fine!” You shout at the gap in the door, praying no one comes to investigate, “I’m fine, I thought I saw a spider.”

You stand there, petrified, staring at him as you wait for your parents to go away. The commotion dies down in seconds, but they feel like hours as they tick away, leaving Billy pressed to your window. When you hear the soft wheeze of a couch cushion, then the creak of bedsprings, accounting for them both, you relax, breathe out a sigh and step forwards.

Even through the glass, you can tell something is wrong. Billy’s right eye is starting to shut, and you don’t think he’s doing it on purpose. It looks swollen, and there’s a purple hue blooming over it.

You work on unlatching the window, and in doing so you press your hand flat against the glass. It lays inches north of his own print, and he shifts his hand up to meet yours on the other side of the window. It’s touching, but you don't’ have time to evaluate it when your fingers snap the latch out of place.

“Billy,” You breathe, gripping his forearm to offer him leverage while he hauls himself up and over your windowsill, “Are you okay?”

He lands on the floor in a heap, and your heart sinks.

“No.” He groans, voice soft and wheezy. When he moves he rolls to clutch his stomach, and the only solace you find is that there’s no bloodstain on his t-shirt.

“I ran,” He groans, keeping his voice just quiet enough to be inaudible from another room, “I- I didn’t have time to get in my car, I just-”

“Okay,” You watch his chest heave with the effort of speaking, bracing a hand on it gently, to stop him, “Okay, save your energy. I’m going to go get you water, and an ice pack. Then I’ll fix your face.”

He manages a weak nod, then a raspy, ‘Okay.’

You slip into the kitchen with only a sheepish grin towards the couch at your spider cover-up. Luckily for you, you’re jumpy around bugs, so it doesn’t look out of the ordinary.

You tuck the ice-pack into your pocket, and you’re wearing such a baggy sweatshirt that it’s covered up. The glass of water isn’t suspicious on its own, and you make it back to your room without any problems.

Billy has hauled himself up to sit against your bed, head tipped against the mattress. There’s still no blood, but his face is tilted towards the light now, and you see copious amounts of bruising that definitely hadn’t been there before.

“Jesus,” You breathe, reaching for his cheek. He tenses as your hand approaches, and you pull back before you can reach him. You stand there, arm outstretched, waiting. Your fingers are only inches from his face, a blotchy purple mark over his eye that spreads down his cheek like poison. You wait, for a sign, a sound, anything to let you know that it’s okay to touch him, and what you get is almost more shocking than the sight of him.

He tilts his head to the side, nudging his cheek into your hand.

“You can touch,” He croaks, breath short and hot against your palm, “I don’t bite.”

If you’ve learned anything about Billy in the past 24 hours, it’s that he doesn’t like the mushy stuff. So instead of gushing, instead of promising him that he’s safe now, that his father can’t hurt him, you say it with your touch, and shift your tone to teasing.

“Oh yeah?” You kneel beside him, brushing your thumb against the underside of his lip and smearing away wet blood there, “Melissa MacDonald says you do.”

He laughs, a short, wheezing sound, and his cheek presses further into your palm as it apples with his smile, “Yeah? Well, she asked me to.”

”Freaky girl,” You hum, eyes glued to his lip. You use the towel that you’ve wrapped around the ice pack, bunching a corner of it up and wiping it over the split skin. It morphs into a grimace when you touch it and he hisses, hand reaching up to grip your side hard.

“Sorry,” You breathe, your exhale fanning over his face, “Sorry, just- give me a second.”

When you’ve managed to get the blood off of his lip you shift your focus to his abdomen, and suddenly realize what you’re about to ask is very suggestive.

“Okay, um.. What happened to your stomach?”

“He kicked me,” Billy groans, “Boots on and all.”

“Okay,” You see a dark purple bruise spreading over his stomach from where his shirt has ridden up, and you toy with the edge of the ice pack, “Can I-? I need to see it..”

“Strip me, baby,” He chuckles weakly, “You can take it off.”

It’s a button-up, once tucked in and now rumpled from the commotion. The top buttons are undone, so it’s not hard to slip the last two out, spreading each side apart to showcase a truly horrific amalgamation of cuts and bruises.

“Ok-ay,” You hum, eyes wide in terror, “Um, this is.. A lot. Should we go to the hospital?”

“No!” His eyes flash with fear, and he grabs your wrist, “No hospitals.”

“”But-”

“But I can’t tell anyone,” He reminds you, gaze now sad and defeated, “No hospitals.”

All you can manage is a nod, tears gathering in your eyes as you stare down at his bare torso.

“Like what you see?” He drawls, and you glance up to see his lip bleeding again from how he’d smirked and torn the cut open.

“Not at all,” You admit sheepishly, reaching a hand up to press and hold the towel there, “Billy, this looks like you escaped a warzone.”

“I did,” He mumbles around the towel, “He’s the enemy.”

“What did you even do?” You ask, prodding gently at a patch of skin and apologizing profusely when his stomach tenses because of it.

“Someone.. One of our stupid neighbors,” He recalls, “Saw you last night. Said my old man must be proud I've got girls sneaking out of my window at night.”

“And… he wasn’t proud.” You grimace, pressing the ice pack to the largest bruise. It spans over most of his lower stomach, and it looks more painful than you can imagine.

“No,” Billy groans, writhing against your bed, “He was not. Didn’t even wait to get inside,” He squeezes his eyes shut, which you’re sure hurts his right one, “Just grabbed my arm and smacked me right there on the driveway. No one cared. The neighbor, he- he laughed. Thought it was all some big joke, I guess. When we got inside he pushed me over in the doorway and pummeled me. He kicked my stomach, and he-” Billy cuts himself off with a hiss of pain when you start dabbing at a scrape on his chest, “Stomped on my face. He used a fucking fireplace poker, that’s the gashes.”

“You can’t go back,” You cry, barely withholding yourself from a long, loud sob, “Please, Billy, you can’t go back there. He’ll kill you!”

“No, he won’t.” Billy heaves, shaking his head, “He wants to, I’m sure. But he knows he can’t hurt me too bad, or people’ll notice. This was a mistake, he’s gonna be more careful from now on. He might be a monster, but he’s smart.”

“But- but what if this happens again, Billy? He gets angry, real angry, and he lashes out, and he uses a fireplace poker-!” Your chest heaves with sobs that you’re barely able to withhold, tears streaming down your cheeks and dripping onto his chest.

“Hey,” He shushes you, a hand over your mouth, then uses the other to wipe your tears away, “Hey! Don’t think about that,” he scolds, but you’re sure it’s meant to sound reassuring, “He’s probably freaked right now. He thinks I’m ratting him out to the cops, or something. So when I come back, he’ll be more careful. He won’t be sorry, but I don’t care about sorry anymore, I know he won’t ever be. He won’t kill me,” Billy promises you, finally dropping the hand that’s covering your mouth, “He can’t afford a body on his hands.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, blink away the tears in your eyes, and nod. He seems satisfied at your silence, watching with droopy eyes as you clean off his chest.

“I’m gonna get bandages,” You murmur, leaving the ice pack on his stomach and padding to the door, “Move it if you need to, okay?”

He manages a weak nod in return, and you make sure to shut the door behind you when you leave.

Gathering adequate medical supplies isn’t the problem, concealing them is. You have to fumble your way through tucking bandages and gauze under your shirt, and the bottle of antiseptic doesn’t fit anywhere but in your hands. You keep it tucked against your side when you rush to your room, though, and you hope no one notices.

Billy doesn’t even ask what you’re doing when you press a wet cotton ball to his injuries, and you shudder to think of all the times he’s had to patch himself up. Does he sit in his room against his own bed, drink in hand? Does he stand in the shower, soap cleaning out his wounds? Does he sneak to the freezer, pressing frozen peas to his eyes?

You sniffle, and BIlly’s thumb rubs under your nose.

You frown, ‘Gross,’ And he chuckles weakly.

“I’m covered in blood, sweat, and-” He glances down at the droplets on his chest, “Tears. You think snot crosses a line?”

“My snot does,” You grumble, laying a bandage over a scrape on his chest and biting the inside of your cheek in concentration.

“Fine,” He huffs, smearing his thumb over your cheek, “Have it back.”

“Billy-!” You gasp, hand flying off of his chest and rubbing furiously at your cheek, “Gross!”

You’d be more upset but he laughs, really, truly, genuinely, and you think that maybe you can live with it.

“Snotface,” He cracks, and if you think for a second too long about the heartfelt lilt to his voice, it sounds like a term of endearment.

It’s hard to maneuver him in order to wrap his more serious injuries in gauze, but with a little cooperation, he’s wrapped like a mummy. It’s probably a sloppy nurse job, but you’re all he’s got, and you won’t give up on him because things are hard.

It’s his face that you have the real trouble with. You squint as you scan his features, looking at bumps and bruises and scrapes and trying to assess how deep they are. Your fingers turn his face this way and that, prodding, prying, pushing, pulling, until you decide that the light from above isn’t enough to see his smaller injuries.

“I need to move you,” You speak softly, “Up onto the bed. Can you do that?”

“Help me,” He bargains, and you’re happy to lift him to his feet.

He slumps against you while upright, but it’s not long before you can push him back onto your bed. He practically melts against the mattress, letting out a guttural sigh that’s almost too loud.

With a flick of your bedside lamp he’s bathed in a soft yellow glow, face now illuminated for all its abrasions to be seen.

His split lip is the least of it, you recognize with a sinking feeling.

Leaning over his face is awkward,and it hurts him when you turn his head. You suppose his neck is sore too, and it leaves you at a standstill.

“I can’t see that side of your face,” You huff, “Could you- I mean, it hurts really bad to turn your head?”

“Sorry,” He grimaces, testing the movement out again, “Yeah. Just- sit on the bed.”

“There’s no room,” You protest weakly, his broad form filling out your twin bed, “I’ll have to turn you around, we’ll put your feet at the headboard and your head down below, but that’ll take a lot of energy, so we should just-”

“Stop talking,” He pleads, eyes heavy, “Just- get on the bed, Y/N.”

“There’s no room!” You insist once more, and he groans, sitting himself upright despite your protests.

His arm slings around your waist, surprisingly strong for the state of the rest of his body. You scramble to fight his embrace but he hauls you up and onto the mattress, your knees digging into his thigh.

“Sit on my stomach,” He instructs you, then remembers it’s bandaged, “Or- or my waist. Just- sit down.”

It feels wrong. A boy in your bed, your legs over his waist, your hand on his chest as you lean over his face. You’re careful not to press anywhere that hurts, and you dab carefully at a cut near his eye.

“I think this earns you the title of best friend,” He mumbles, his breath hitting your face and warming your nose.

“Oh, yeah? Who was my competition?” You bite your lip to stop from grinning, shifting your waist against his own so that you can reach higher on his face.

“I dunno.” He’d shrug if he wasn’t lying down, “My car, maybe? There’s a cat that hangs out behind our house.”

“I’m not as cute as a cat,” You hum absentmindedly, picturing poor Billy with a car for a best friend, “I think it’s got me beat.”

“I dunno,” Billy murmurs, reaching up to thumb at the space between your brows. It knocks your concentrated frown loose, and he chuckles at your dazed expression as you peer down at him, “I’ll call it a tie to keep the peace.”

You busy yourself putting a bandaid over the bridge of his nose so that you don’t have to look into his eyes. You’re worried about what you’ll find there, if it’ll be the scared little boy you’d seen in them last night, or a charming young man. You’re not sure how to handle either, but you smooth the sticky patches of the bandaid out over his cheeks to try and aid the former.

“Done,” You whisper, and brace your hands on his face.

“Thank you,” He hums, sincere and sweet, “Really, I appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” You promise, “But for your sake I hope you don’t have to come over here like this again.”

“Me too,” He laughs, a short, breathy sound, “So.. uh, you got a car?”

“No,” You shake your head, “That’s why I was walking earlier.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” He cringes, hoisting himself up onto his elbows, “I’ll have to walk back.”

“Not now!” You push a hand against his chest, gently landing him on his back again, “You- you can’t! You need rest,” You reason with him, “Please, Billy, just stay here tonight.”

“Usually the girls kick me out when their parents get home,” He jokes, his tongue poking out to run over his lips, which you’re sure are sore from the cut. You giggle breathlessly, only then realizing that you’re still straddling him.

“Uh-” You rush to slide off of his hips, landing with a thump on the floor, “Sorry. I’ll go… um, do you need a change of clothes?”

“If you’ve got something,” He tilts his head up to watch as you fumble through your closet, “If nothing fits it’s fine.”

Luckily, you find a pair of sweatpants that are cinched with a tie, as well as a particularly average sweatshirt he’ll fit into. You step out of the room so that he can change, and thankfully he doesn’t seem to need any help. You use the time to change your own clothes, and when you emerge from the bathroom, you push your bedroom door open to find him on your mattress again.

“Bed’s comfy,” He marvels, turned onto his side. He’s pressed against the wall, staring at you where you’re frozen in the doorway.

“It is,” You nod, “Enjoy it.”

“You, too.” He prompts, patting the sheets, “Get up here, Y/N.”

“No, I-”

“You just stuck your fingers in my bloody cuts,” He groans, scooting even further back against the wall with a strangled groan, “I’m not making you sleep on the fucking floor.”

Logically, you know you should argue. He’s proclaimed you as his best friend but you’ve really only known him for a day. But he’s made up his mind, closing his eyes so that he can’t even see you disagreeing. His arms are crossed, and his face is set in a stubborn frown, brows tugged together beneath a bandage on his forehead.

Though his eyes are screwed shut, he pops them open when he feels the mattress dip beside him. His frown morphs quick and easy into a grin, his arm slinging around your waist to tug you closer from where you’re practically sliding off of the bed.

“I told you,” He drawls, “I don’t bite.”

“I’m not worried about you biting, Billy.” You mumble, stiff where he’s holding you. He notices, grin dimming as he lifts his hand away.

He looks almost annoyed, “So? What is it? Are you an insomniac, or something?”

“No, Billy,” you frown, biting the inside of your cheek, “I’m not an insomniac, I’m worried. Are you okay? I’m not a nurse. And- and I’m not tired, either,” You spring out of bed, standing beside it instead of laying with him, “I’m not going to sleep.”

He lays there staring, eyes hardening over from where they’d cracked open to ooze happiness. You watch it happen, watch him change until he’s the boy you know from school, deep, cutting glares and harsh movements.

“Fine,” He huffs, fighting to keep his face straight as he presses himself up off of the mattress with his palms, “I’m gonna go. Clearly- just.. Bye.”

“No, Billy..” You rush to stop him from reaching the window but he sticks out an arm, shoving you away with the side of it. He keeps his hands off of you, and you’re grateful, but it still sends you stumbling slightly.

He hears the sound of your feet thumping clumsily. He tenses up for a moment, shoulders drawn closer to his ears and legs locking. But he feels your hand against his back, soft and slow and smooth, and with each brush of your fingers there a muscle in his body relaxes.

“Please don’t go,” You finally beg, your voice a sweet whisper. It seems to have been the wrong thing to say, because his limbs lock up again, back stiffening against your palm.

“I shouldn’t be here,” He grumbles, gruff and weak.

“Yes you should,” You assure him, “Because you got hurt, and I told you you were safe here. We’re friends, remember, Billy? That’s what friends do.”

“We’re not friends.” He scoffs, and you can feel him slipping away. Every second that you stand there, hand on his back, soothingly brushing over his tense muscles, he seems to drift away, until you’re not even sure he’s with you anymore, just a foggy silhouette on the horizon.

“You said we were friends,” You remind him, lips nearly brushing his back, “What changed? Why aren’t we friends now?”

“Because..” He starts, and you wait patiently for him to continue, rubbing lines into his back over and over again.

“Because I want.. Because- Because friends-”

“You can tell me, Billy,” You promise, testing the waters as you creep forward. Inch by inch you snake your hand around his waist, carefully avoiding the injuries you know are lurking beneath his unbuttoned shirt. When your palms meet over his stomach you lean your cheek against his back, hoping that if you can squeeze enough love into him, he’ll come back.

“This,” He hovers a hand over your own, glancing down at your touch on his skin, “This is what… friends do, right?”

“Friends hug,” You confirm, “Is that what you want?”

“Yeah,” He chokes out, raising a hand to his face to smear away a tear that you’re sure has slid down his cheek, “Yeah I want that. But- but you got up, so I- I didn’t want to freak you out. You obviously didn’t want to, so-”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” You brush your thumb over his toned stomach, thinking about the way he’d stared at you from your bed, eyes sparkling and arms outstretched, “It’s just that… I want to do right by you, Billy. And I don’t think you get that a lot, do you?”

“No,” He rasps, and he starts to relax, back no longer tense as you practically whisper against it.

“Right, so..” You reason, biting your tongue before speaking out of nerves, “I think that you live like you drive, Billy. You blow past stop signs and you nearly run people over, you speed. You go so fast that you can’t slow down anymore, and you need someone to tell you to do that, or else you’ll crash.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I want to make sure you’re not rushing things,” You can feel his heated skin beneath your cheek, only the fabric of his shirt separating you, “You just got beat up by your dad, because of me, and I’m glad that you came here, but don’t you think that sleeping together is going pretty fast? I know we’re not like- sleeping together,” You mumble, cheeks aflame, “I just don’t want you to get ahead of yourself. You can.. You can have a hug anytime you want, and… we can sleep next to each other, too, but I need to know that you want that. That you’re doing it because you want to, and not because you think this is the only chance you’ll ever get. I’m telling you to slow down, Billy, you don’t have to rush if you don’t want to. I won’t kick you out if you don’t sleep in my bed, you don’t owe me anything for helping you, and I want to make sure that’s really what you want, and not just something you think you have to do. I… I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow with a clear head and regret it.”

By now your lips have reached his back, brushing softly against the material of his shirt as he stands by your window. It’s shut now, no one can see you from the outside, but his face is turned towards it like he’s examining the neighborhood. He’s not tense anymore, but he’s not moving either, and for a moment you’re nervous about having said the wrong thing.

“I’m not going to regret anything.” He murmurs, fingers ghosting over your own as he sets his hand over yours, “I.. I’m doing it because I want to, not because you’re the only person that’s nice to me. I’m doing it because… because I want to be-”

“You want to be…?”

“I want to be… held.” He whispers it like a curse, like he thinks the roof will cave and the floor will crack open to hell if he admits it. Your heart aches for the lonely boy, the battered son, the scared child, and you squeeze him gently in a hug.

“Okay,” You nod, and you know he feels it against his back, “I’ll hold you, Billy. Get back in bed, I’ll hold you.”

This time he’s less confident; not as suave. He turns towards you with a trepidatious expression, eyes tracking your every move like he thinks you’re going to give up the joke, turn, point, and laugh at him. But you don’t, of course, instead you hoist a leg up onto your bed and lay down clumsily beside him.

The mattress isn’t big enough for the both of you, so it’s a good thing you’ve agreed to hold him. You’re not really sure how to initiate it, you just simply leave yourself open, uncovered, waiting.

“Where can I touch you?” He glances up at your face, expression clouded with nerves.

“Anywhere,” You say without thinking, then stammer to fix your mistake, “I mean- I mean not like anywhere, just- anywhere.. PG.”

“Okay,” He chuckles, eyes once more heavy with sleep, “I won’t feel you up, I promise.”

When he braces a hand at your waist, cautious, unsure, you wonder if he’s ever not felt anyone up. Has he ever laid beside anyone before, just for love? Not for sex, not for lust, but for calm?

He looks nervous to continue, so you lean into it. You roll yourself onto your side, slinging his arm that’s on your hip to lay over your back. He scoots forward to meet you in the middle, and with a hand on the back of his head, you guide his face to press against your neck. His chin bumps your shoulder, and he nestles it there snugly. It means that his eyelashes brush your neck, that his lips part to release a shaky breath against your collarbones, and his curls tickle your chin.

“Is this good?” You ask, your voice a murmur into the crown of his head. He nods, and the action knocks his head into your cheek. He mumbles out a hasty, ‘Sorry’, and you laugh it off.

“It’s okay,” You drag your hands up his back, fingertips barely grazing his skin that his shirt has twisted up to expose, “It’s okay, Billy. This is okay. You’re allowed to want this, you know? You’re allowed to like this. You deserve this.”

Billy thinks he deserves a lot of things. A kick in the teeth, a tight pair of handcuffs and a drab cell, maybe even the fireplace poker. But he doesn’t think he deserves kindness, which is why he’s so confused why you’re gushing it like a fountain.

He’s the type of person to make himself unhappy so that no one else can do it for him. He shuts out love and light and life so that no one can steal it away, no one can send him reeling when they leave. But tonight - he’s not sure why, maybe it’s the stinging wounds on his torso or the tickle of your fingers against his back - he’ll love.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove blurb #billy hargrove drabble #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x reader fanfiction #billy hargrove x fem!reader

798 notes · View notes

ebonysplendor · 3 months

Text

My Darling Review 🧑‍❤️‍💋‍👩

TL;DR: Takuya may be our boyfriend, but that doesn't make him any less psycho. He's still cute or whateva.

Game Link: https://water-horse-games.itch.io/my-darling

Notable Features: Yandere LI, Gender Neutral MC, Self-Insert (up to 6 letters tho) Spiciness: 2/5 -- There's a scene where it gets a little suggestive and another scene where the LI straight up mentions sex and making love. Other than that, it's extremely tame (as far as 18+ content). Red Flags: 3/5 -- Gaslighter, locked us in a room, tied us up, drugged us

Wanna know more? Well, let's get into it!

How do I tell you guys about the unhingednessnessness that is this game without spoiling it?

Well, for one, I can tell you that it's pretty damn crazy. Like always, it starts off so cutesy and "Oh, this guy isn't toxic at all! What do they mean 'yandere'?" to "WHAT THE F--K. IS HAPPENIIIIING?!". Okay, maybe not that unhinged -- actually, it isn't as unhinged as I'm suggesting at all -- but it still gets pretty crazy pretty fast.

This review is going to be way shorter than the other ones that I've done because the game itself is pretty short. It's only like 15 - 20 minutes long, maybe a 5 minute difference if you get the same "What the hell?!" reaction that I had at a very specific part that I'm going to try to avoid telling you.

That being said, the intro is about as long as I can make it considering the game is so short, so let's cut the bullshit and start summarizing.

So, boom.

We get off of work, and we are greeted by our man~

His name is Takuya, and...meh, a little basic lookin' but he still cute or whateva. I'd let him hit it.

Anyways, so Takuya and us are making small talk. In the midst of this small talk, he goes on this weird mini rant about technology, and basically, how he feels that it shouldn't really be a thing because it ruins relationships. We just kind've brush him off, like "Yeah, I know", end the conversation there, and eat dinner.

During dinner, we're talking again, and here he comes with the heavy stuff again. He drops the whole "Do you love me?" question because he's like really, really, really insecure about this, but we reassure him, and he's good again; however, now we're like:

"Aha, time for dessert, knowwhatlmean~?" Oh lawd...

And he's just "Shiiit, okay! But let me do the dishes first". Wack...

So, we put our little flirt session on pause for a second for household chores because he's just got to be the perfect house boyfriend, but it's paused for more than a second because we start feeling real dizzy and pass out.

For the sake of not ruining it, we have this pretty gnarly dream and wake up in a cold sweat because of it, but we are pretty damned disoriented because the dream was super vivid which was super weird because it felt so real. Takuya sees/hears us kind've freaking out and was just like "Don't even trip. I got you. Just go back to bed." but it's like, nah, son, because why are you just brushing me off when I'm trying to confide in you?

You already know that this started a whoooole bunch of shit, and it starts to rapidly go downhill from here. No, I am not telling you what happened or even going to give a synopsis because I can't! Lol don't look like that! You already know that I wasn't going to tell you how it ended nor all the juicy details because I need you to play this for yourself! But I will leave you with this very concerning screenshot from the game.

Yeah...this man is a little psycho...

Like I said, 100/10 I would give you more details, and believe me, I really, really, REALLY want to but also like I said, the game was super short and pretty much to the point. It damn near went from 0 to 100 without much warning -- it lowkey did, to be real with you. You deadass just have to play the game yourself, and I promise you'll see what I mean when I say it truly is short and psycho.

For it being so short, this visual novel is pretty damned intense, and it is good!

The best part about this game to me is the visuals of Takuya's sprite. As per usual, you'll know what I'm talking about when you play it yourself. There has been quite a few times that, when I read a visual novel, the imagery around the sprite will startle me, especially if it was meant to be a jumpscare or something, but holy shit, seeing Takuya's sprite change was extremely unsettling this time around. And then--! What made it all the more effective was what he said when the personality flip happened.

Ugh! It's so frustrating because I want to tell you guys about that scene so bad, but it'll ruin a crucial part of the story, and it's burning me not to include it in this review. I'll leave you with this though, and for like the third time at this point, you'll know what I mean if you choose to play this:

• The way that you THINK his sentence is going to end is not the way it ends, and it ran a literal shiver down my spine the execution was so good • That scene alone made that entire game. It was pretty good, but then that scene carried it on its shoulders. It really solidified the tone and creepiness and suspense of the game

That's pretty much all I have to say! Like I said, definitely play the game yourself, because explaining it without the really intense part just does not cut it. You honestly have to play it because you are missing out on a short, intense little gem of a game. Just as a fair heads up, it's a touch bit predictable, but at the same time it's not. If you're like me, you'll have a very clear suspicion during a specific part, and while you're right, it's not exactly going to pan out the way that you think nor for that particular reason. There's still some surprise to it, so don't let that deter you!

As always, be sure to leave your comments on the dev's page if you feel like they've done a good job, and you want to give them that extra reassurance to keep making games. Of course, donations are always helpful to them as well! Like mentioned at the very top, here is a link to the game so that you can play it for yourself, and I really suggest that you do because when shit goes down, it goes down. Anyways!

That's all from me! Drink water, don't be dumb, and hope to see you around~!

My Darling

#my darling #my darling vn #my darling visual novel #my darling takuya #visual novel #visual novel review #yandere visual novel #yandere visual novel review #my darling vn review #my darling visual novel review #yandere boy #male yandere #yandere vn #vn review

13 notes · View notes

chronotsr · 10 days

Text

Pre-G1 Modules, part 4B - The Judge's Guild Roundup Completed

Oh. Oh we're still doing this? It won't end? Gods. At least we made it to 1978. Anyway, happy eclipse to every. Reminder: the people who run Judge's Guild now are full-on nazis, do not buy their books. Go hug your loved ones instead.

The Thieves of Fortress Badabaskor (1978)

Maybe I was too hard on the Prince Valiant-ass artstyle. It looks very proud for a bandit fortress, don't you think? The full color version that comes out later is even nicer -- it's the one you find on google images first. Anyway. Fort Badboybaskaur was founded by ''The Emperor of Glorious Doomfire''. It truly was the era of so-bad-its-good naming! The fort was built so that if raiding happened, the many small villages could congregate there for safety. Only, it turns out there was a red dragon underneath. And then that got resealed. And then an evil demigod took over. And then bandits took that over.

I read this section like five times and for the life of me I cannot find a prophesy here. They just kind of say it because it sounds cool. The prose in this hand out is, really really rough, it's a lot of proper nouns and moral history tropes -- empire becoming successful and spawning evil religion yada yada yada. The proper noun addiction is strong with this one, we get quite a few undefined proper nouns here. He's another classic: "Zanaaphic the All-King of the Spirit Universe". I have so many questions! None of which will be answered. "Angall of the Perpetual Void" Wow! Those are some neat nouns! The net effect, however, is there was a really skilled evil wizard who got confronted by a god, beat him, and by defeating him became a four-armed dragon-skinned bat-winged magical null. He does up to 16 pips of damage with his silly flails!

So the cover image is lying a little bit about the fortress. In both of the presented maps, there is no cool rampart that you have to slowly siege, there are mountains both in front and behind the fortress, and there are way more than three turrets. I am actually a little fond of this keep layout-wise, it's less cramped than the Keep on the Borderlands is. Naturally, it sits at the foot of Mount Deception.

It's a nice little fortress, no? I would recommend getting a modern copy of the map if it wasn't for the ownership sucking ass in an extreme way. Plus, having dungeons under your keep on the borderlands seems like a great idea, actually. Or, shit, having a rival keep on a rival borderlands sounds kinda rad. Anyway, the room by room is pretty rote. The exterior rooms are mostly just services you'd give to anyone walking in, but the real juicy stuff is all kept inside the mountain walls. We've got your usual suspects. Guard captain, bossman, bossman's terrible wife (and the wife is legally required to be evil because male writers), pawnbroker, human trafficker, tavernsssssss, gemcutter, blacksmith, et c. Some of the names are okay, "Hole in the Hill Inn" run by ogres was really funny to me, I would change them to hill giants to complete the joke.

The dungeon has an interesting conceit where there are some generic "alternate rooms" in the back of the book that come with a blank room number that you can swap if you dislike the default room contents. I'm really in favor of this mindset. I have thought for a while that it'd be kind of nice for adventure books to be shipped in some sort of editable capacity? Like if I wanna do open heart surgery on a floor of a dungeon, but I like the other 4 floors, it'd be nice to keep it in the original format instead of having the adventure book and then some loose-leaf with the changes penciled in. Tragically, the alt rooms are overwhelmingly just monsters in a room, with the outlier being a wererats with a little kidnapping scheme.

Underneath the fortress there are five levels, one is actually above ground level and in the cliff face behind the keep, and the third level leads to the surface via caves. Neat! I'm kind of imagining Gerudo Fortress here on a lot of levels. Here's a quick skim of the best contents:

There appears to be a little rat treasure hoard where the rats have to pay their dues to their little rat kings? What's going on here is kind of unclear to me, but I can't help but imagine one of the guards trained the rats to hide money in the walls for him and the ten rats with silver formation are a kind of animal-passcode.

A chest trapped with some sort of reverse truth serum -- it removes your ability to speak, see, or hear for a week if you open it without permission. Naturally, the chest is decorated with the three wise monkeys 🙈🙉🙊 (and a mysterious fourth monkey the text implies nothing about, maybe it's Sezaru? Curse of erectile dysfunction!)

The alarm system seems to be gong-based

Oh, I don't like this beholder at all. Ewwww! But also, why is this drawing here? There's no beholders in here? Is this some kind of silly trap for snooping players? In fact, most of the monster illustrations are…kind of just random monsters.

The treasury is booby-trapped to hell and back. We have a standard guillotine trap disarmed with a tile puzzle on the wall, a hell-hound guard dog, and the most prominent magical item is a necklace of strangulation. Rough break! Just go ahead and put all of the treasure on pressure plates with flame jets at that point.

A reverse gravity pit-trap -- you pull a book, you fall through a hole in the ceiling and then it traps you in the ceiling. It's just a pit trap at the end of the day, but way vivid!

A chair made of a dragon's arms and horn that will animate and attack you if you try to pry gems off it or attack anyone

Two wizards are having a battle over who gets to own a trained lizard that can sing and carry heavy loads. I understand guys. That lizard is worth it.

Under a sarcophagus is written "If you can read this, you're too close", as well as some explosive runes

The treasure hoard of a lost king, if you attempt to steal it, will turn into a treasure construct shaped like the king. Awesome!

"A similar cabinet on the north wall is labeled "For Future Imperialists". In the top drawer is a Gem of Brightness, the second is a pair of Bracers of Defenselessness, and in the bottom drawer is a pouch of Dust of Sneezing and Choking." I would fully lean in, make it a Cursed Gem of Brightness that you can't turn off, and put the Bracers in the top drawer if the goal is to prank an evil character into hurting themselves.

A reverse-vampire giant lizardfolk that consumes the unlife from undead. So, Tomb of the Lizard King got beat to the vampire-lizardfolk punch, I guess?

Large swaths of this dungeon genuinely feel randomly generated. The worst parts are about half of floor 2, 3, and about half of floors 4 and 5. It just feels like padding to me. And in true Judge's Guild fashion, there are treasure stores in the temple that are "instantly max your character" amounts of loot. Now I get that shares are a thing and you gotta pay your hirelings, but still, 1.5M gold represents like, even if you're a party of 10 you're still looking at instantly maxing a thief, shooting a fighter to level 8, and shooting a wizard to level 9. And there's no way you were at 0xp when you smuggled that statue out, that's going to be an instant max for just about anyone. The big reveal that I…guess you could conceivably puzzle out? Is that the dragons were nearby because they were minions of a dragon-king entombed under this fortress before it was built. A cool idea, that desperately needs more foreshadowing. The love clearly went into making those tombs cool, so if I was going to rip anything off from this module that'd probably be my second port of call.

Gen Con IX Dungeons (1978)

What a name, right? How come Tsojconth got a name and these dungeons didn't? Blatant favoritism. Well actually one of the two dungeons may as well be called the Halls of Grsk. And, wow, everything about the design notes are ominous. "Simplicity would be the prime requisite". So….does that mean this adventure is boring on purpose, Bob?

The adventure is split into two bits, the player-side info and the gm-side info, which…okay. Sure. The titular dungeon is set in the "Celtic mythos", whatever the fuck that means (Bob, the Celtic cultures covered almost all of Europe and parts of Asia. That phrase is meaningless!). TL;DR the old king's wizard went evil and killed the king, left no one to rule, and then went nuts and much later summoned a bunch of demons to protect his loot now that he's old and dying. The local wizard, Framschamsnaggle (seriously?) bullies you into raiding his tomb to get a staff back. There's a dragon in there and you were handed a teleportation amulet that will zip you out as soon as you get your hands on the staff.

Oh. Oh that's not good. That's a very not good dungeon layout. That's a very bad dungeon layout. And the contents are, as bad. I wonder if it was considered bad at the con itself? I couldn't find a single remarkable thing in this whole dungeon. It is neither weird, nor funny, nor clever, nor interesting. It's 30 random dungeon rooms in a row, with a rare trap that is practically randomized also.

The sole joy I can find in this module is this illustration, which looks like a shitpost.

The second round of the tournament (1st round eliminates) is set in a completely different place, which is more properly called the Halls of Grsk. Almost all of this area is also just, save or suck traps and monsters. There is one trap that's kind of classic and okay -- picking up the giant ruby locks all exits, many red herrings, room starts heating up like an oven. The solution is to smash the ruby, which instantly kills the heating element. It's not amazing (how are you supposed to guess it's a ruby? It behaves like a pressure plate trap but the ruby itself is contact-activated) but it's the least bad thing in here. The portal-that-eats-you prank in particular grinds my gears, the game communicates every possible thing to say it kills you, and by blind faith you go through and is the best solution. Picking up the fake secret item instantly kills you, because fuck you. The fakeout trap's sole hint is "why are there two normal doors on the north wall?" which, it's a points-based dungeon, they're going to assume it's for extra points. Also, the whole dungeon is a massive straight line in disguise. It's a wreck.

Actually, the whole scenario feels like a worse "Tomb of the Lizard King" in a lot of ways, down to the silly rhyme on the last page that gives you a critical clue about how to kill the undead baddie. In a sense it's also like Tomb of Horrors in that way, I guess, but the vibes are a lot more like Tomb of the Lizard King.

Damn it Bob, you made it boring on purpose.

Citadel of Fire (1978)

This is truly one of the dungeon covers of all time.

Is… is that The Golem? I hope Rabbi Loew is available. Or, maybe it's good that he's not in the module, because obviously this construct's creator is going to be evil in this module.

This is the least least imaginative of the Judge's Guild modules in this series. It is, simply a wizard's tower. If you have ever in your life read a wizard's tower module, you've read this one. The JG staples of constant slavery mentions continues with slave girls being in every single damn room of the towers. There's, not really much plot to go on either. There are wizards, the hill is good for magic, they are aligned with the goblins, go chop 'em up.

Sigh. Here's the memorable bits.

Nearly out the gate, we get one of those paragraphs that you would hope would be so obviously bad to the writers that they would second guess the decision. Why the actual hell did you stat out some 200 nearly identical goblins manually?

What is that and when do I get a bestiary entry for them? That's not a joke, the module never mentions what this is and now I want this Weresalazzle in my adventures.

The vague allusion to "Shabast", which are apparently a species of people who are intelligent clouds? But only sometimes.

A variety of pens for animals the wizards are working on, which include an Irish deer, a jackalwere, a baby lammasu, a giant slug named Skippy, some orcs, man-eating apes, an elephant, and a hydra

For…some reason there's a tavern on the 2nd floor of a dungeon. In the lightest defense of the module, at least the 2F has a surface access and no pre-programmed encounters between here and the tavern (random monsters thoooo). The owner sleeps with a new person every night, highly critical detail.

?????????????????????

OK so many rooms later there's a pyrohydra with a toothache. Mystery solved, that's why there's a magical dentist!

I hesitate to complain, but after multiple dungeons with 100k+ gold rewards, this dungeon's treasury having roughly 11,000 gold in it feels like an anticlimax. The fact that it's protected by that pyrohydra and electrified locks adds insult to injury.

This is a joke, right? That's your final floor? Anyway, this is just The Demon Floor. There is more treasure here than upstairs, which is a little strange given that the demon serves the wizard and not the other way around.

So on the whole, deeply shit. In conclusion, Early Judge's Guild leaves a lot to be desired. Next time we will -- wait, am I free? There's no more pre-G1 modules? I get to finally do TSR shit and leave this mire?

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS (edit: I was half-right -- there was one more pre-G1 module, but it was TSR!)

#0e #chronotsr #dnd #dungeons and dragons #tsr #ttrpg

6 notes · View notes

drawing-way-outside-the-lines · 10 months

Text

➖ Mature content, 18+ ➖ check the trigger tags each time ➖

Chapter 45 - A softness settled in it.

Episode 5. Another hour later

Dalton: I going home Andy hiccup

Andy: Right there with you! They stumbled out the bar door and down the street I left Krisss sleeping in my bed anyway….

Dalton: He chuckled cheekily how can you keep track of all those men?

Andy: Are you calling me a slut?! he grinned cheekily

Dalton: I wouldn't dream of it he smirked

Andy: Oh yeah? He walked real close to Dalton, their nose tips almost touching as he looked deep into his eyes why not?

Dalton: Cause you deserve better

Andy: mmh… what do I deserve then? he answered, in a now more steamy voice

Dalton: You…. dessserve….. this! he quickly threw some snow at Andy's face he had grabbed from an electricity box as soon as they had entered the street, and ran laughing down the street

Andy: You're gonna get so fucking wet man!!! He laughed loudly and stormed after Dalton, nearly falling over his own legs several times

Dalton: Oh shit! He laughed so hard he could barely run as he saw Andy come storming after him and quickly ran through an open gate in the fence surrounding the local fire station, quickly slamming the gate behind him

Andy: He stopped as he reached the gate and chuckled You really think you can keep me out? I mean, the fucking bars are so far apart I can fit my head through it!

Dalton: He grinned wide Prove it!

Andy: He chuckled cheekily and shook his head

Dalton: Prove eeeet!!!

Andy: Fine! he chuckled hoarsely and stuck his head between two of the ice cold bars, barely able to squeeze his face in See?!!

Dalton: He laughed loudly Your face is all scrunchy!

Andy: Ssshut up! he chuckled hoarsely the fucking metal is frozen!

Dalton: He couldn't help but chuckle, then took a step forwards, leaned in and planted a juicy drunken kiss on Andy's lips Stop complaining he mumbled as he few seconds later pulled away from the kiss and get your face out so I can get out of here before I get in trouble with the fire marssshall! he chuckled cheekily

Andy: Momentarily melting into the bars

Dalton: He chuckled again and grabbed the handle, slowly pushing the gate open

Andy: He cleared his throat and quickly pulled his head out from the bars and nodded in the direction of Dalton's house Walk you home?

Dalton: Well you're heading in that direction anyway, aren't you?! And it's just over there… literally! he grinned cheekily and pointed at his house about 20 meters away across the street, then suddenly felt the alcohol rise to his head from the cold, suddenly feeling…. frisky

Andy: He chuckled goofily and quickly crossed the street, jumping up on a bench, balancing a bit uneven on it

Dalton: He chuckled amused and ran over the street, quickly jumping up on a low brick wall flower bed, balancing equally uneven as he walked to Andy Heee-eeey he chuckled cheekily and smirked at Andy what are yeh thinking off?

Andy: He bit his bottom lip and gazed at Dalton with hungry drowsy eyes, feeling an intense longing to kiss him, feel his warm lips again

Dalton: He chuckled cheekily and stuck his hands in his pockets, gazing deep and playful into Andy's eyes wannaaaaaa- he suddenly got interrupted as a couple came around a corner, laughing loudly Oh shit! He nearly slipped and grabbed onto Andy's shoulder, before face-planting into the flower bed, then jumped down on the sidewalk, stumbling a few steps before finally gaining balance as he grabbed onto a tree, observing the couple

Andy: He chuckled amused and jumped down from the bench What's going on?

Dalton: He pointed at the couple That's my fucking ex!

Andy: What? Where? He turned and spotted the couple Oh?

Dalton: They are fucking coming over here! *He looked around desperately for somewhere to hide! FUCK!!!

Andy: He laughed loudly at the sight of Dalton's drunk panic

Dalton: SssshutthefuckupAndy!!!

Andy: even more laughing

Dalton: They are coming! Do something!

Andy: He looked at the couple, looked at Dalton Well alright! he quickly leaned in, grabbed Dalton firmly and kissed him so passionate that even the moon could taste it!

Dalton: Surprised moan

Andy: As Dalton didn't protest, he kept kissing him, even after the couple had passed

Dalton: He was the one to slowly break the kiss with a soft chuckle Thank you! You saved my ass man!

Andy: Your ass? barely able to come back down on earth

Dalton: Yeah, thank you for saving me from my ex.

Andy: Your ex?….. oh yeah, your ex he was barely able to hide his disappointment yeah, that's uh… that's what that was, yeah. You're uh, welco-

ex: Dalton? Is that you?!

Dalton: He frowned annoyed and sighed

ex: It IS you! she quickly walked up to them, then realisation seemed to kick in were you two just?

Dalton: Yeah?

ex: Weren't you with that girl?… Ma-ma… Marie?

Dalton: Malou! … yeah, so?

ex: Well nothing she scoffed I'm sure she will love to hear that you cheated on her too, like you did with me!

Dalton: I didn't fucking cheat on you! We were done long before Malou was even a part of my life! How many times did you break it off?!

Andy: Woah woah woah!

ex: Well who took me back every time?!

Dalton: You fucking played me and made me believe you still loved me or even cared for me at least, and that things would be different! But they never fucking were!! You just kept playing with me and shitting on my heart!

Andy: Hey! Dalton! It's not worth it! He grabbed onto Dalton's arm, gently yanking him in the direction of the house Let's go home!

ex: Oh so you live together? Do you also fuck?!

Andy: mumbling to himself I wish!

Dalton: We've been through this before, it's none of your business!!

ex: Oh yes! You're right! You're also dating that other guy, the mechanic, right? Is the dick good? I heard that mechanic dick should be some of the best, perhaps that's why you and I never worked out? Maybe I should have fucked you… literally!

Dalton: You did. You fucked my feelings all over the place!

Andy: He frowned soft Dalton… Dalton! yanking on his arm Dalton please!

ex: Better head home you dick sucker!

Dalton: Are you afraid I'm better than you at sucking?! he suddenly grinned wide

Andy: Burst out in a loud laughter

ex: She made some sort of angry protest noise,but couldn't seem to come up with a suitable comeback, so she turned on her heels and marched off in the direction she had come from

Andy: Holy fuck that was epic!!! still laughing his ass off

Dalton: Pissed

Andy: Laughing

Dalton: Rage

Andy: Noticing

Dalton: About to explode

Andy: Hey man, fuck her! Let's get inside it's freezing out here!

Dalton: He looked in the direction of his house, then the opposite direction, feeling his whole body boil, so much anger and frustration needing to be let out, and in that moment there were only one person he could think of Nah I'm heading out get home safe! He quickly stuck a hand up in the air as he spotted a cab

Andy: Wait what?!

Dalton: I'm gonna grab that cab!

Andy: Woah! Can we talk about it?

Dalton: No, sorry he frowned I'll see you! He quickly ran to the cab and jumped in Just get out of here!

Andy: What the fuck!??! He observed as the cab drove away, feeling a sting in his stomach, his eyes watering You don't fucking cry now you big baby!!! He kept standing and looking in the direction the taxi had left Fucking walk you loser!!! He wiped his hand over his face angrily as a few tears fell and started walking, fast, angry, hands in his pockets, no particular direction, he just walked faster and faster the more angry he got, till suddenly he spotted a large dude pissing in an alley Hey…

Dude: Glaring at Andy

Andy: Wanna ram that thing down my throat, tiger?

Dude: Looking at his dick, looking at Andy, looking at his dick Get in here!

Andy: Big wide grin

Dalton: He paid the cab as it stopped at the destination Keep the change! He quickly got out of the door, just about to slam it

Cab driver: That's a lot of money man!

Dalton: Yeah well, Happy New Year! He quickly slammed the door and rushed up the small path leading towards the house. He pushed extra to get the large gate open, because of the snow, and finally managed to slip through it. He slow ran up to the house, and pounded the door

Adrian: He opened the door with a beer in his hand, looking surprised at Dalton Dal-

Dalton: He threw himself at Adrian, kissing him forcefully

Adrian: Stumbling a couple steps backwards, he lost the grip on the beer, which a split second later shattered on the ground

Dalton: Shit!

Adrian: Yeah, well he frowned soft and escaped the kiss, observing Dalton a couple seconds before he walked to the kitchen to get a broom Hello to you too!

Dalton: He frowned soft sorry about that

Adrian: He sighed soft and walked to the shattered puddle and started sweeping it up it's just a beer he looked up at Dalton, he looked frustrated… angry even? what's up with you?

Dalton: I ran into my ex!

Adrian: He nodded soft and kept sweeping I see.

Dalton: She talked a lot of shit like usual and yeah I just thought… I don't know what I thought actually?

Adrian: He finished sweeping and threw it in the trash, then quickly washed the leftover stain with a towel. He walked to the fridge and grabbed another beer, popping it open and put it to his lips

Dalton: Are you going to fuck me or what?!?

Adrian: He splurted the beer down into his sink what?! He looked at Dalton with a questioning frown

Dalton: Yeah, are you going to fuck me, like are you ever going to fuck me?!

Adrian: His eyes got wide

Dalton: Fair enough… I'll make it easy for you he mumbled as he started drunkenly undressing himself

Adrian: He slowly put the beer down, not quite able to catch up with what was happening as he watched Dalton almost fall several times while trying to get out of his pants

Dalton: He finally gave up, standing defeated in front of Adrian, butt naked, apart from the pants and boxers still halfway stuck Around his ankles

Adrian: He sighed soft and walked over to Dalton, wrapping his arms around him tight

Dalton: He sighed relieved as what he actually needed was given to him, and squeezed Adrian tightly as he wrapped his arms around his waist

Adrian: I'm not going to… fuck you… you aren't ready…. and even if you were, I'd prefer our first time doing THAT to be much more soft and intimate. I want it to be a beautiful and deep moment, rather than a quick fuck because you're angry at your ex.

Dalton: He nodded soft and agreeing, sniffling his nose lightly as tears gathered in his eyes

Adrian: Stroking Dalton's back soothingly How about I help you out of those pants, and I help you get rid of that anger and frustration in a less aggressive way instead?

Dalton: He let a soft chuckle escape Like how?

Adrian: He slowly let go of Dalton and kneeled down, gently pulling off Dalton's shoes, then his pants and boxers, one leg after another. Then he looked up at Dalton with hungry eyes, and leaned in, letting his tongue run up the shaft of Dalton's half boner How about we start from here?

Dalton: He nodded slow and moaned soft Oh yeahhh…

#unicorntales #Dalton Red #Andycorn #Andy Shaw-Thompson #Adrian Blackwood #Trigger warning:#foul language

2 notes · View notes

thetruestudent · 2 years

Text

The Student - Her True Story

In Her Own Words

It's been a decade since The Student drama exploded in the royal fandom so here is my write-up of what lead up to the drama, how it unfolded and the aftermath.

Thanks @duchessanon for encouraging me to do this!

This is much longer than anticipated so I've included a cut. I know it's a lot to read but there's a juicy reveal that I've never shared before within!

Before I was even aware of this fandom, I was a casual royal watcher. My granny has loved Diana since I can remember and I would borrow her books about her in my teens. I also grew up watching satirical Canadian shows that would often poke fun at the royals although I didn't really understand a lot of it as a child. And then there was the general education on the royal family in school - you know, where we learned about Canada being a constitutional monarchy. Ahem.

In my teens and early 20s, I got into pop culture in general and would follow a lot of the drama that went on with the younger royals. Guy Pelly, Chinawhite, Club H, William e-mailing Britney, etc. I knew it all despite not being someone who watched the weddings, followed the tours here in Canada or kept up with thing like events like Trooping the Colour. My main source for this info was a Livejournal blog called ONTD - which is still running somehow!

One 2012 day, I happened to click into a royal post and saw a comment thread referencing TrueRoyals (now @heavyarethecrowns) and decided to check her out. I specifically noticed the one comment about being this blog being harsh on Kate's body which I didn't like and soon found out that the Kate content was way more vile and misogynistic than described. I left a few anons defending her and was written off as a "mini-midd". I wouldn't say I was a full blown Kate stan but I did think she was beautiful, loved her style and related to her as a fellow Tall Girl ™. Perhaps the attacks did feel a bit personal to me because of that but I hate seeing any woman spoken about in the way and always speak up when I see it (which I can back up, I'm on Real Housewives Reddit these days and get exhausted from defending morally objectionable women from misogynistic attacks).

I then decided it was time to shit stir. I was bored and had an idea that I knew would create drama. I have never admitted this to anyone (aside from duchessanon and one other blogger in private) but I created a secrets account called "royalfandomsecrets". I started out with a bunch of fake "secrets" with the goal of making Rachel and her ilk paranoid. I never crossed the line into anything mean-spirited, just calling out some of the hateful messages being spread. I'd also pick names to include at random, blogs I had never looked at before (including Kate stan accounts) but would find through reblogs, and say something innocuous enough that it would've made me laugh had it been said about me. Then the real secrets started pouring in and this is where it got interesting.

From what I remember, the secrets being sent in weren't that bad. I wouldn't post anything that could be considering bullying and nothing stands out in my mind as particularly harsh, aside from some of the posts coming in about Rachel. Now I wasn't stupid, I had installed an IP logger from the start because I had a feeling something was going to happen with these secrets and my instincts were proven correct when I noticed the most hateful secrets towards Rachel were coming from one IP. Her own.

Rachel was very open about where she lived. I don't know if she still is open about it but I'm not going to share where (and I don't even remember anyway). I was surprised by this. I remember on one occassion she even posted about a very old church in her town. I knew with certainty that these posts had to be coming from her because she sent in a message chastising me off anon that matched the same IP. With this documented, I attempted my first TrueRoyals takedown. I posted a screenshot from the IP tracker with the IP blocked out and, if I remember correctly, I believe I blocked out everything but her county. Rachel was furious about this and reported me to tumblr admin, getting me shutdown. I believed this to be unfair but, at the time, there was nothing I could do about it.

So I moved on and started sending her anons. Sometimes just dumb questions, sometimes spreading silly rumours like claiming one aesthetic tumblr belonged to Beatrice or describing my ~dream royal wedding dress~ (which sounded horrific btw, I was surprised she even shared it). That's when I realized she was responding to any and every anon I was sending in and then it clicked; I could have fun with this!

As you can see from the above ONTD link, it was rumoured that Harry was dating Mollie King. At the time, The Saturdays had a new single (30 Days) from their next album coming out so I sent in an anon saying that Harry and Mollie were friends who were not actually dating but were pretending to for mutually beneficial reasons - Mollie had a song/album to promote and Harry was trying to deflect from a real relationship with an unknown university student. To be honest, I didn't think this was my best work. I thought Rachel would shut it down like she did with the Beatrice tumblr (the girl's hairstyle pictured was the wrong shade of red apparently). At most, I thought she'd ask where I had heard this. I didn't except her to respond with, "I've heard this too."

I let her go on to her anons about this for a bit and watched the Harry stans lose their shit. One of the best moments, soon after this, happened when paparazzi tweeted or put out somewhere (I don't know how the Harry stans knew about this so quickly) that Harry had been spotted on Oxford's campus. The fandom collectively lost their minds for a few hours until the photos came out and it was just some poor ginger who probably didn't understand what was happening to him. I will always wonder if paps/journos were following some of these blogs for tips and went because of The Student rumour...

My biggest mistake here was not taking screenshots or documenting my plans with this in any way but, as I said, I didn't expect her to bite. When I decided to expose the truth behind this rumour, I knew she'd lie her way out of it because of this. Her loyal followers and K8 H8erz stuck with her but it had blown up within the general fandom with the mini-midds particularly enjoying the drama. I realized shortly after that I did have a comment exchange on ONTD about how I had been trolling Rachel with this rumour with one of the people from the original thread I linked, dated from before I revealed myself to tumblr, but enough time had passed and those who didn't want to believe me ignored it. I no longer have that screenshot either and deleted my LJ account, sadly, so I can't even attempt to find it.

A few more fakers were taken down after this, some with my involvement and some from my comrades who had the same sense of humour and (justified) mischief as I did. One who particularly stands out to me was one who claimed to be an incredibly young mother of one who was also pregnant with her second. She said she was married to a Lord and claimed that he, his family and all of the aristos hated Kate and used it to justify misogynstic comments about her. She made a mistake by mentioning that this husband was Jewish though. Fandom members searched for Jewish aristos and couldn't find any Lord that fit his age or description.

It seemed that being questioned on this was a bit too much for her because her "husband" logged in to her tumblr to announce they were moving to Canada because she was getting her Master's at McGill and she got a job as a cultural attaché in Ottawa and would be working with Charles and Camilla on their upcoming Canada tour. When I pointed out that McGill was a two-hour drive from Ottawa and that it seemed like an extreme choice to move with a newborn and a toddler, work full-time, commute four hours a day for McGill and squeeze in a royal tour somehow, she disappeared.

I ended up sticking around for a year or two more here and became friendly with some great girls along the way. One of my favourites told me that I killed the fantasy that exisited within the fandom... that there was this fun in believing maybe someone with connections to the royals may actually be posting here. The thing is, I think it's very possible someone with an actual connection was/is posting in this fandom (I mean, if Arthur Landon could find us...) but anyone in that position would never give personal info and reveal secrets as those blogs did. If anything, I think that keeps the fantasy even more ubiquitous. Royals! Aristos! Daily Mail contributors! They could be anywhere! They could be sending you an anon as you read this!

13 notes · View notes

fikfapdownload · 10 days

Text

tiktok18+ Plus APK v1.0.1 For Android | tiktok18+ For People Over 18 +

We welcome you to tiktok18+. It is an entertainment app for all kinds of smartphones. With this app, you can watch spicy, juicy, short videos and watch live for free. It is the most grabbing app around the world. It is the fastest-growing app in the market. The app allows you to watch all the short videos. Since the app gives you free access to short videos that you can watch live on your Android smartphone for free.

Nowadays many apps developed to watch live videos. Hence, the tiktok18+ is one of these apps that provides free short videos to watch. It is the 2nd largest app that delivers free video content to watch. It is similar to the Fik fap. The app comes with many new short clips. On it, you can grab the entertainment short clips. With this app, you can entertain your life and pass your boring time.

It is a short video platform that you can download on your Android smartphone to watch short clips. The app is really super with its given features to gain the different short clips. There are many apps available to watch the short clips like Facebook reels and YouTube shorts. So why do we review this app here? Because the app has some extra features that increase and interesting this app more enjoyable.

What is tiktok18+?

Basically, tiktok18+ is an Android short videos platform, in which you can watch all the short clips and videos for free. It is a social media app that lets you watch different video clips totally free of cost. It delivered all the shorts to watch on your Android. The app contains the world’s range of video clips to watch on your smartphone. This app has the most downloads and it gains traffic from Facebook and YouTube. Watching entertaining short clips is the hobby of the majority of people.

It is a good way to entertain their life. Anyway, the app provides all the funny short videos and other comedy videos to you to entertain your life. It includes worldwide videos. The app is most popular in the United States. Hence, the app has also a collection of reels and shorts for you. Just tap on reels or shorts to watch them for free of cost. Moreover, you can earn real money from this app.

What are the features?

The features of the tiktok18+ App are the most powerful to the users. Because the features of this app make this app more interesting and useful. The app has a great collection of short clips to watch and much more content for the users.

The video clips will be shared on social media and duets.

There are no subscription is required to this app for use.

This application doesn’t require any registration to use it.

The application is not available on the Google Play Store to get.

With this app, you can earn real money by just posting reels & shorts.

The app doesn’t allow third-party ads on its server.

Simple to use and easy to download.

User-friendly interface for Android Users.

How to make some money with tiktok18+ App?

Making money through this app is very easy. But then some apps make it very difficult to earn the real. But this app allows you to earn real money by just likes that are given reviews.

If you gain 1k to 20k likes on your videos then you earn 20$.

Gain the 200k likes on your share reels and short to earn 60$.

The app provides you 180$ once you have 200k plus likes on this app posting videos.

How to download tiktok18+?

The download process of this app is very simple. You just need to follow the below guidelines to download this app on your Android Smartphone. There are three steps to complete the downloading of this app, so let’s check and download the app right now.

First, grab the given download link.

Now it will appear on your screen on the download page.

Press the download link to download the app on your smartphone.

Now you are able to install this app on your Android Smartphone to watch the video clips and shorts.

Conclusion:

tiktok18+ is a popular app with 2 million downloads. Yet, the app comes with allowing the refer link to earn money. The app is developed for entertainment lovers. The users of this app can get free access to watch the different short video clips. However, the app provides you with all the silent videos that are hidden or deleted from tiktok18+. Make this review the best for you. If this review is helpful to you then let this app to your friends and send the direct download link to our website.

#fikfap

1 note · View note

bunny-rambles · 2 years

Note

i will try to sum up your replies to both asks of mine in one, and i just know i'll forget half the stuff i want to say, but anyways

miscellaneous thoughts: ye getting xiao and shenhe was super lucky, but again i was only going for chongyun cons so that was also hilariously funny lmao

thanks for the well wishes! unfortunately decent artis never come home to me xd (the only one that has mid decent ones is kazu but only bc the primordial jade cutter balances his otherwise tragic lack of crit rate sigh)

do spoil albedo with good artis, he's a baby and he deserves all the best

for the second part omg please i love your brainrots they just brighten my day so much. scara being all clingy, trying to deny it, only to be even clingier? exquisite

childe reluctantly being forced to try and be scara's flirting coach only for it to backfire because scara is as smooth as a dull knife? perfect

seriously tho if i could i'd just cradle him into my arms and smooch his head. frankly speaking we'd both be physical touch givers who hate speaking about feelings, so at least we'd agree on how to communicate lmao

aaand actually while i was scrolling down your scara posts i realised you'd wrote quite a few works i had already read and loved!! the mistletoe one was so good omg. the way you portrayed cocky scara? childe being the worst best wingman? having your brains kissed out by scara which really messed up my simp brain?

that was all real juicy content my dear buns. strawberry here heavily appreciated the food.

and last but definitely not least, i'm glad to hear you're feeling physically better!! that's all great! <3

(if you're still feeling kinda under the weather tho, my friends and i like to scroll around fanfiction websites and find the worst story we can just to read it out loud in a dramatic way. works wonders with our humours every single time)

- lots of love from a 🍓 who's now very happy because she got to enjoy good scara content

A little fun fact,

I was actually going for Sucrose cons when Raidens banner was out. I had a 10 pull spare from my 180 goal for Xiao, so I used it because it was my birthday-

So technically, Raiden was a birthday present,,, I wasn’t even aiming for her but she’s a really good character so I’m not complaining

Even though I spoil Albedo, he very rarely crits T^T I’m still proud of him for that off field damage but still- he has such a high crit rate and he just,,, never does,,, :,)

Hehe I can’t lie, I smiled really big hearing my brainrots make you smile. I’m kinda shy with them? I tend to just not shut up if I’m passionate about something but I’m scared of sounding stupid so I don’t post my tangents of scrambled thoughts. I’ve only ever done it a few times. The Xiao one when I was half asleep, and then some Ruby ramblings-

I’ll try to share them more if they make you happy !!

Ahh the mistletoe fic,,, I think my writings improved quite a bit since then but I really did like how I wrote Scara in that one hehehehe

Thank you, maybe I’ll try that method. It’s more just my mood now instead of physical pain, but I’m getting through it <3

#bun speaks #🍓 anon

0 notes

butterbabyflapjack · 2 years

Text

. Belljar Heart .

( Tengen Uzui x fem!reader )

Tags:: explicit sexual content, Tengen isn't shy, rough and passionate sex, loss of virginity, oral, vaginal fingering, size difference, M/F/F/F/F, aftercare, SLOW BURN, teasing, coaxing, dirty talk, fluff, angst, romance, canon-typical blood & violence, porn with that thick juicy PLOT, crossdressing, swordplay, teacher/student relationship, parental abuse, all sex is consensual but there's a brief instance of attempted rape, reader is very inexperienced, Tengen is a very good teacher, if you know what I mean😏😏😏, wall sex, squirting, flamboyance, lies/deceit/revelations, I want my third degree slow burns to kill me

💗 Tengen Uzui x reader - porn with that thick juicy PLOT 💗

You’re the only daughter of a prestigious, high-rank government official; a cold, abusive man who wants you to be ladylike within the comfort of your gilded cage, when you’d rather be anything but.

It will take deceit and cunning to slip by his tight leash. Disguising yourself as a man, you begin sword lessons in secret in the hopes of one day becoming what you’ve come to learn are ‘demon slayers’. And when an actual, real-life Hashira - a beast of a man with hair like moonlight - passes through the short reach of your cage, you’re determined for him to accept you under his tutelage, even if his answer is a stern and resounding ‘no’.

You won’t give up that easily. And you’ll do whatever it takes to make Uzui Tengen take you under his wing, even if it means deceiving him, disguising yourself as a man, and running away from the life of luxury you know.

It goes without saying that things get messy within this tangled web.

💗 Tengen simps get your sexy asses in here~ 💗

Read it here on ao3

Chapter Directory: one • two • three

. Chapter 1 .

Authors note:: If you know my writing style, you’ll know my smut is explicit. But I’ve been craving something plot heavy to sink my teeth into for a while now in a world filled with mostly Tengen oneshots, so you can expect both from this story :)

Thanks for reading, enjoy ~ 💗

You were always weak. That’s what your father told you, anyway.

“Fragile. Delicate. A flower to be protected at any cost.”

From anything and anyone but you, you’d thought with a bitten-back scowl, though didn’t dare to speak it.

Perhaps you were weak, at least in a physical sense. But what your father didn’t know was that you’d stripped off your petals about one year ago today. Around the time you’d asked him, for the first and last time, to allow you lessons with a sword (“Even if you were born a man like you ought to’ve, swordplay is a lost art. Useless. Antiquated. Don’t waste my time with such a senseless request again,” he’d said. “If you must busy your hands, take up a woman’s task, like stitching. Or cooking. If you must busy your mind, contemplate how to best perform those wifely duties that will one day soon be asked of you.” ).

Instead, you’d taken the lesson of swords into your own hands.

Still, your father hadn’t been entirely wrong. Even the guards within his massive estate didn’t carry swords, when firearms were so much simpler. But you - his sequestered, bright-eyed daughter, so unversed in the ways of the world - had your heart set on sharpened steel.

The reason, like the request your father so spat upon, took root in your heart one year ago today. On a night you’d never forget, no matter how you wished to, for the things you saw then still haunted your dreams.

The sun had not long since set, that day a year ago, and unbeknownst to your father you’d snuck out of the manor again. Making your way through the grass to those stables just outside the property, where a young stable girl of twelve had taken a liking to you, and you to her. Most people were too afraid to be seen speaking to you, such was your father’s station. As such, you didn’t have many friends. And though the girl was half your age, she had a friendly spirit, and never shied away from laughing with you. She and you enjoyed singing to the horses, serenading them with stories and silly things, and tonight would be no different.

“Luna,” you’d called, in a sing-song voice already. Stepping through the opened stable doors.

You’d heard her before you’d seen her, though at the time you had no idea what could cause such a sound.

A sort of guttural grunting, chorused with the snapping of sinew, the crunching of bone, the wetness of gnashing teeth. The sounds of someone, something, eating. Stuffing their face as if starved.

The barn was dark, but through it your eyes slowly adjusted, and eventually you saw Luna’s small form, crouched like an animal before a kill. Her farmhand father’s broken body tossed like a rag-doll beneath her, long since dead, his throat ribboned as if taken by claws.

The sounds of eating had stopped upon her hearing your terrified gasp, and slowly Luna had turned, still crouched before her meal. A shimmer like melted rubies dripping down her chin, her pupils slit, aglow with hell itself.

“Luna…” you’d wavered, stumbling back in fear. But she was not the girl you knew. She was hardly a girl at all. And swiftly she’d sprung to her feet before lunging at you.

You couldn’t move at all, such was your fright. And stricken, you’d simply stared with wide and terrified eyes as she barreled toward you, ever closer to sinking fangs through flesh.

You would have died that night had a flash like lightning not whipped out before you. A metallic sheen, the fwwpt of quick steel carving through air, followed by Luna’s bestial head, her expression startled, cut clean from her shoulders. Sliding to the straw-covered ground with the rest of her, fallen heavy with a shlump.

It was only then you remembered how to move, and you’d stumbled back into the wall of the horse stall behind you, struggling just to breathe - choking on your teeth as a delicate woman suddenly stepped out of from within the shadows before you, wiping clean the katana she’d used to save your life. Her dark hair was dipped in violet, with her eyes a vibrant shade to match.

You’d watched, owlish, as Luna’s body crumbled into ash before your very eyes, lost to whatever breeze snuck through the stable’s opened door.

You’d like to tell yourself you were as strong as whoever that woman was. That you handled what fiendish violence you’d seen and the loss of your young friend as bravely as one should. But tears had budded on your lashes, and before your savior could say a word you’d fallen to your knees, sobbing and sniveling into your hands. Only stopping when the woman’s touch came to take your trembling shoulder.

She was smiling sadly down at you, as if to give you comfort, though such a thing was far from found. And she’d stayed with you. Crouched down to your height, like you were just as young and fragile as Luna had been. Waiting for you to wipe away your tears while distracting you with questions, about yourself, about your friend.

“You look hungry,” she’d told you, helping you to your feet as you tried to stave your sniffling. She took you into town, bought you a bowl of banshu, chiding you like a mother might until you ate it despite your ages being the same, eyes creased with a pretty smile as she watched you slurp down the warm, salty brew.

She never told you her name. Maybe you forgot to ask. What you do recall, was asking her what had happened to Luna… what had become of her. What had changed her. And how she, this violet woman beside you now, had been the one to save you.

She’d smiled, before tipping your bowl back to your lips with a single finger so that you’d finish sipping it down, with you far too frazzled to eat like a lady should.

“I’ll always protect people like you, and put to rest those poor souls like Luna,” she’d said. “Because I’m a demon slayer.”

She’d left the village not long after that. Not even waiting for dawn to break. “The demon who did this can’t be far,” she’d said, peering about the dark skyline. “And I’ll make sure it meets the same fate.”

And then she was gone. Walking down the road that led southward out of town, a crow fluttering from the midnight sky to perch upon her shoulder.

She didn’t turn back, and you watched her go until she was lost to the night, like a mere memory. And though she’d suggested you move on and forget the things you’d seen, you could not. Would not.

A demon had killed your friend. Had compelled her to eat her own father. Had transformed her into a fiend who then tried to kill you. You couldn’t forget that. Couldn't allow the injustice of what happened to Luna to go unpunished.

You wouldn’t.

You wanted to be like that woman who saved your life. Dexterous, skilled, powerful. A slayer of beasts, an arbiter of her own fate. So unlike the helpless creature you were, and always had been. You wanted to hunt down demons, if any others should exist, so that they couldn’t hurt anyone else.

You’d never told a soul about what it was you saw that night, knowing no one would believe you anyway. The body in the barn was attributed to the hunger of wolves, along with Luna's disappearance. And you’d approached your father the very next day, tentatively broaching the subject of swords - for if the demon slayer had used one, then so would you.

A foolish endeavor, in hindsight, but you were determined; and even with his vicious temper and mercurial beatings there’d remained a shred of hope that he’d allow this to you.

“Father, please, I–”

He’d smacked the notion of it down before smacking you, likewise; backhanded, straight and sharp across the cheek, your head tossed roughly aside with the violence of it.

“You dare presume ask me for anything? After all I’ve given you?” he’d muttered in distaste, eyeing your bloodied lip as if he resented you forcing him to gift it to you. He didn't often like to hit your face. It raised too many questions. “Spoiled little brat.” He’d turned, then; his back to you. “Never ask a thing so foolish of me again. Get out of my sight. ”

Eyes stinging with unshed tears, you’d turned - you’d ran - before he could catch sight of their wetness spilling.

He’d never agree to you wielding a blade, no matter the reason. That much became abundantly clear. But you were resolved in it, to become a demon slayer. Moreso than with any other dream you’d ever had in your life, despite hardly knowing a thing about swords or slaying anything.

Still. He’d never agree to you learning a blade. But he couldn’t possibly object to, or even know about, some random young man in the village - just an unknown commoner - taking up a sword. Learning its weight. Slowly becoming its master.

And thus began your ventures in crossdressing.

The idea had seemed absurd at first; disguising yourself so you could learn a sword. Impossible to get away with. Utterly foolish. But you were already adept at slinking through the manor’s halls at night, undetected by your father’s guards and others at his employ. So perhaps you could swing this, too - though, unfortunately for you, there weren’t any swordsmen who trained their students in the dead of night, so sneaking away once blowing out your candles wasn’t a viable option in finding time to train, especially if you ever wanted time to sleep. Swordsmen themselves were a rarity, even in a mountain village as large as the one your father lorded over, so finding anyone to train you would be no simple task.

The most important thing was that you didn’t get caught. You flinched to think what would happen if you did, as surely your father’s outrage would leave you a tapestry of blacks and blues painted with a bamboo rod, their evidence concealed by the silk kimonos his wealth so generously provided. The bruises spanning your back, shoulders, and thighs attested to that. As such, it would take craft and cunning to devise such a plan.

You needed to train - daily - in order to be proficient enough to slay a demon, and even then you suspected no amount of training would ever be enough. You’d need an excuse that would allow your absence as often as this required. However, your father wasn’t likely to grant you any favors, even if you made up a reason for going into town every day.

What you needed was a partner in crime. Someone to make excuses for you, so that your father would actually listen. Someone to be your mouthpiece. But this solution brought with it more problems, because no one was stupid enough to double-cross the fearsome Governor Ōshiro. Even if you paid them, it would never be worth more than their heads, and your father would surely come to collect; by legal means or otherwise.

No, what you really needed was to blackmail someone - to make them help you against their wishes. The thought of which riddled you with guilt. But as desperate determination took you, you found you were not above it. Not should you find the right victim.

And find one you did.

Your personal seamstress, Hatsumomo. A plump, haughty girl about your age who treated you like her own personal pincushion, her fingers always slipping when taking in your garish garb, needles pricking in their path far too often than any expert seamstresses’ rightly should. It was clear that she detested you. Always scowling down her nose in your presence, straying far and clear from any attempts at pleasantries. Truth be told, you weren’t sure you could blame her for it. You’d been born with a silver spoon in your mouth, after all - wanting for nothing save your freedom, and though she was better off than many thanks to your father’s purse, she was far from the luxuries you afforded. But even if you couldn’t blame her for hating you, it didn’t mean you wouldn’t extort her, especially as you came to notice those many sweet touches and secret glances she shared with a man who wasn't her husband.

All it took was catching her red handed, straying from her lover’s bed. Confronting her with the possibility of telling her husband the truth, thus ending her nighttime dalliances with his best friend. She’d folded quite easily after that; suggesting to your father that you take up embroidery, and that you do so almost daily, as it would better mold you as a wife and woman. She’d teach you - she’d take you into town to select your own silks, and into nature to weave your own tapestries of this great big world you saw around you.

Your father had not protested. He also never asked to see a single thing you’d sewn. As long as you were wielding a blunt-tipped needle instead of a weapon, he was happy. And, trading that needle for a sword, so were you.

You don’t often pat your own back, but you had to hand it to yourself on this one - it seemed a well conceived deception. And with your father’s shadow off your back, the rest was simple. Selling several of your best kimonos in exchange for a fat pouch of gold, which you used to buy men’s clothing to better hide your identity, your very own katana, and the guidance of a wizened old swordsman you tracked down at the far reaches of the village, who agreed to take you under his wing without asking too many questions about why you wore a black, cloth mask tugged up over your chin, nose, and cheeks ( “I was badly burned as a child,” you’d told him), nor about your slapdash, irregular training schedule ( “A man must make a living outside of training with a sword. I’ll come and train as I can.” ). He knew you as your half-masked alter ego, a young man named Ichiro. And though he was older, less vibrant than those of youth, he was still a deft enough teacher.

You learned, improved, became better with a sword - slowly, but surely - under his oft distracted instruction. Before you knew it one year had passed, with your father none the wiser to your trespasses. And despite being unable to commit yourself as fully to your craft as you wanted to, and despite your sensei’s instruction being long past its prime, you were still surprisingly capable with a sword. What you lacked in skill you made up for in unfettered determination. What you lacked in swift instruction you made up for in creativity and cunning.

Today, on a late afternoon with the sun still brilliantly shining, you were more capable than you’d ever been before. And that sunlight still trickling through the windows as you passed called out to you, yearning to glisten along your blade in what few hours of daylight you had left in which to train.

Your footsteps echoed down each long hallway of your father’s estate as you made your way swiftly forward, a small parcel of sewing goods held loosely in one hand (though if anyone were to actually take a peek, they’d find a suspicious lack of anything sewing related, and instead a very suspicious assortment of a mask and men’s clothing).

“Y/N-”

Just like that, the sun outside seemed to shrink; your heart with it.

You stopped, chest seizing at that authoritative edge to the voice that was unmistakably your father’s. And, steadying yourself with a quick breath, you slipped back a step, toward the opened doorway his voice had spilled from as you’d passed.

He was standing, tall and imposing, at the head of a large table, with members of his counsel strewn about before him. Colleagues who all glanced at you, and you at them, though they quickly averted their gazes.

“We’ll resume this in the morning,” your father told them. Dismissal enough for them all to gather their things - shuffling out of the room and past you as if you were some apparition they couldn’t see.

“Y/N,” your father bid again as their herd of footsteps faded. And, gripping tightly to your small bag, you wandered inside the room.

His eyes followed you like a hawk’s might. His lips a stiff line, until at last you stood before him, fingers kneading in the fabric of your pouch.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Not until he spoke again, his voice a precarious calm.

“Did you think me fool enough not to find out?”

It tore your apprehension to him, your eyes popping wide despite yourself. You gripped your parcel tighter still, as if he might suddenly try to wrest it from you. Throat locked up and unable to utter a thing.

He eyed you as he often did. Stern, tightfisted, and with a sour note of aversion. “I’ve had your room guarded from a distance this past week,” he said, watching for any betrayal in your reaction, though you fought not to give him anything but a blankness in your stare. “And imagine my surprise upon learning that my one and only daughter, a high-born woman, has been sneaking out at night to roam about the city streets like a filthy commoner.”

The color ran from your face, replaced with a buzzing fear.

He’s had me followed..?!

…What else has he seen?

His pause stretched long enough to seek confession, though you refused to say a thing.

I never take up a sword after nightfall, your panic tried to reason over the rising hammer of your heart. There’s no way he knows of it. He must only know of my nighttime wanderings in the village.

Stupid, stupid, why have I been so careless?!

“Have you nothing to say for yourself?” his austerity broke into your thoughts, a dangerous edge to it.

You balked, unsure of how to placate him. “I… I’m sorry -”

“You’re sorry,” he repeated, in a tone of near mocking. Eying you like one does a disobedient dog. “You’d be even more sorry if I hadn’t put a stop to such foolishness before you could be taken by whomever is taking women like yourself from our streets.”

The statement caught you off guard, and you stared without speaking before finally finding your voice again.

“Women are disappearing..?”

“In alarming number,” his severity informed. “Perhaps in your stupidity you’d like to join them?”

You held his gaze, which you often couldn’t. Blinking hard and fast. And what stammered out of your mouth next stammered without your thinking. “Could… could a demon be taking them..?”

Your father’s usual air of coolness faltered. His eyes widened a fraction, before growing hard as stone. And before you could hope to react he’d snapped up your wrist so harshly you yelped. “Why would you ever ask such a ludicrous thing?!”

“I - I don’t know!” you were quick to backtrack in supplication, wanting desperately to snatch back your words.

“Have you heard rumors of my saying so?” he questioned, grip tightening. “That I’m a fool to consider it?”

“Father,” you pleaded, trying to tear your wrist away from his outrage, “please - you’re hurting me-!”

For a moment it was like he couldn’t see you at all - that all he could see was the color of his own righteous rage. But, gradually, his shoulders unclenched themselves, and he threw your wrist from his grasp. Eyes narrowed as he watched you gingerly cradle your abused forearm against your chest. “Never enough for you to learn your lesson, I fear,” he muttered, his voice reclaiming its usual calm. Though his jaw remained fraught with a certain agitation, like that of a butcher hearing kitchen mice within his walls, scratching at places one couldn’t reach.

“Your chambers will be guarded from now on,” he informed, with no room left for you to argue - not that you would have dared. “Since I can’t trust you to behave as you ought. Now go. ”

You didn’t hesitate, rushing out from his encompassing fume as quickly as you could.

It wasn’t until you were several corridors safely away from him that your heart rate finally settled, and you paused mid-step to clear your head, to think, blinking an irritating sting from your eyes.

It seemed to you that your father’s anger was not solely ascribed to your disobedience. His volatile reaction to your mention of demons suggested as much, though you hardly understood it. Still… it was nearly confirmation enough to the question which had sparked it to begin with.

“Could… could a demon be taking them..?”

All the fear you felt for your father was slowly stripped away, as more and more a rising, apprehensive thrill buzzed electric through your veins.

For the past year you’d wondered when a demon might cross paths with you again. Wondered if one ever even would.

And now, it seemed possible that one finally had.

You couldn’t be certain. But if there was indeed a demon taking refuge in the shadows of your mountain town, it had finally come time for you to find it. For you to slay it.

Your hands balled unthinking at your sides, your forearms riddled with tension. All of your efforts, all your sweat, your bruises, the utter exhaustion and never-ending grind of your training might at last be about to pay off. And in that anxious elation that took you, you diverted course from how you’d originally planned on heading to your swordmaster’s house for the remainder of the day - instead making straightaway for your friend and confidant, the only of your father’s guardsmen you could stand. A man with sharp features, strong jaw, and a scruff of beard about him that matched the dark, warm pitch of his eyes and shoulder-length hair; a man by the name of Goro.

You found him right where you knew you would, out in the courtyard, manning the gated entrance of this grandiose estate you called both prison and home.

He caught sight of your rather boisterous approach, raising a brow at it.

“Is it true?” you hissed beneath your breath upon reaching him, eyes alight with excitement as you tugged him a few steps further from his fellows, which he only allowed seeing as how you’d completely caught him off guard. “That people are disappearing in town? That there’s a demon in our midst?!”

He was nonplussed by your brashness already, but upon hearing that he held your gaze as if he hadn’t heard you right.

“A demon...?” he repeated, like you were completely insane for speaking it. Though, like your father, a certain unspoken tension gripped him at the word, and he studied you tersely for a moment more before tugging you a few steps further in the direction you’d been lugging him, dark eyes tossed left and right in assurance you were both well beyond anyone’s earshot.

At length, he stopped you in his shadow, still eyeing you as if you were deranged. But eventually the inquisitive, pointed look you shot up at him had whatever resolve he had not to fuel rumors cracking. It was part of what you loved about your friend - he was so easy to manipulate, at least where you were concerned, and he was also honest to a fault.

“Okay,” he breathed at last, carding back his hair, strangling the roots. “Okay, fine - not that I believe in such nonsense, but… well, it’s rumored your father called for the aid of a ‘demon slayer’ or something just as idiotic, to help track down whoever’s been plucking young women off the streets and from their beds at night.” He rolled his eyes, huffing a boyish little chuff that you couldn’t help but smile at the sound of. “Damn conmen if you ask me - but I’m hardly in charge, and people are becoming antsy. Afraid. Angry that nothing’s being done, over no one being caught. So if the rumors are true…” His lips pursed thoughtfully down at you. “I suppose your father’s just desperate to do something about it.”

He eyed you, arms folded across his broad chest, waiting as if you might fill him in on whether or not these rumors about your father and demon slayers were indeed true. But your mind was spinning, so much so that you simply stared up at him while repeating in a hush of reverence, “A demon slayer… ”

That look of his saying you were off your rocker doubled, and he sighed. “If your father wants to call in the crazies, no skin off my teeth, I suppose, though if this demon slayer’s smoke-and-mirrors get in the way of actual law enforcement finding whoever the culprit is, I’ll–”

In an instant you’d craned up on tipped toes, taking both his elbows to drag him down enough to quickly peck his cheek - both in thanks and to get him to shut up - and instantly his entire face flushed tomato red, the rest of his ramblings catching on his teeth.

“Thank you, Goro-san!” you chirped, trying not to laugh at his expression as you spun away, dashing for your room at once.

He watched you go, the calloused fingers of one hand lightly tracing where your lips had touched him, eyes wide and a bit dazed.

You had little time to properly thank him for this information, though you’d surely find a proper way to later. For the sun was already growing heavy, painting the sky in molten hues, and you had to be ready.

Tonight, you were going to hunt a demon.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #tengen uzui #uzui x reader #uzui x you #kny uzui #uzui's wives #uzui tengen #tengen x reader #tengen x you #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #ao3 #reader #reader insert #y/n

766 notes · View notes

noctumbra · 3 years

Text

𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥

summary ─ you took a deep breath and opened your mouth to answer him when the idea struck you. his offer.

pairing ─ bestfriend!bucky barnes x reader

warnings ─ smut, +18, bucky is also the reader’s roommate, kissing, oral sex, making out, beard burn, dirty talk, sexy pictures, lingerie shopping with bucky, cam sex, OF accounts lol, friends-to-lovers, mutual pining, i don’t know shit about creating sexy content jsyk lmao, very light choking

a/n ─ inspired by this ask! spider nonnie had blessed us with this great idea. edits and yellings happened and here i am lmao thank you @nix-akimbo for the edits, i drooled and screamed and had to change my panties:) hope you like it! please leave a comment if you do! thank youu!! (pictures i used for bucky are edits from, again, @nix-akimbo <3

p.s.: so sorry for the delay! enjoy 5.2k words of filth! pls let me know what you think

It was sort of an off day for both you and Bucky. After having to deal with all the exams and applying to colleges, today was a calm and relaxing day for you. Bucky offered to go somewhere where you could both just be outside and have a change of scenery after holing up in your rooms or dragging yourselves from one class to another. You agreed easily.

His choice was Central Park; he was claiming that some green and soil under your palms might do you good, and you couldn’t see why not. With a small picnic bag kind of thing, you went to Central Park and sat down on the thing sheet you brought from home. It was very nice out; the sun was smiling down at you people and there was a soft breeze. You could hear birds chirping, kids playing and dogs barking. It was peaceful.

“God,” you heard Bucky groan. “I could say ‘fuck it’ to going to college thing and live out here forever.” You chuckled.

“I don’t think you’d like out here very much in winter,” you said as you grabbed a strawberry and handed it to him. With a soft hum, Bucky took it. “Though I wouldn’t say no to the ‘fuck it’ part.”

Bucky frowned. “What? Why?” You sighed. It had been troubling you for some time now, and even though your parents said that they would be supporting you, you still didn’t like the idea of making them pay for your schooling.

“College is expensive as fuck, James,” you grunted quietly. “It’s expensive which means that I have to get a loan, and it’s gonna be a huge problem when I graduate.” Sighing again, you bit into the strawberry in your hand aggressively. Bucky didn’t say anything, opting to stay silent, you continued after swallowing the juicy fruit you just bit.

“I mean,” you started. “I’ll probably apply to some of the scholarships, but I doubt that I’ll get one. M’parents said they’ll help me, but I don’t wanna be a burden.” You watched Bucky changing his position. Your mind was racing to find some brilliant idea that was going to help you get through this money issue. Scholarships were very hard to get, you could work ─ it was more likely to be happen anyway ─ or you could just let your parents crush under your college bill. You snorted when a thought struck you, causing Bucky to give you a confused look. “I might start an OnlyFans account. Seems like it’s the only way to earn some real money to get through college properly.” Bucky grimaced for a second, and then his face got thoughtful. When he looked back at you, he started snickering.

“Okay,” he agreed, grinning. “But promise me that if you ever want to create content with someone, it’s gonna be me, alright?” You chuckled. You knew that Bucky had a crush on you during your first year in high school, but he was over it now was what he said a year ago.

“You just want to have an excuse to kiss and feel me up, Barnes,” you said playfully. Bucky shot you a cocky smirk, causing you to laugh.

“Joke aside, I mean it,” he said after your laughter died down. “Those kinds of things are dangerous if you don’t know your partner. So, I’m offering myself. You know me.” You nodded slowly. Deep down, you knew he was right.

“Yeah, well,” you murmured. “I’ll let you know if I ever decide to do such thing.” Bucky shrugged.

“You have my number, honey,” he said, giving you a soft smile. He had a dreamy expression on his face. You ignored the butterflies in your stomach that the pet name provided and pushed him back from his shoulder. He went down with a yelp.

“Stop thinking about me naked,” you grumbled. Bucky laughed.

It was a nice day.

Looking back, you probably should have taken him up on his offer. This year was your last in college, graduation was crawling close with every breath you took, and the closer you get to your graduation day, the more stressful your days were becoming. You were drowning in your loans, your rent and your share of bills were waiting for you to pay, your job at the library was on a shaky boat…

It was totally pure luck that you and Bucky were in the same college and decided to be roommates because dorms were too crowded and loud. He was understandable about your money issues, he didn’t have any problems with it since his family was actually rich. It was very nice of him not to force you to pay your part although it didn’t stop you feeling guilty about it.

“Earth to Y/N,” you heard a deep voice and jumped on your seat. Bucky was looking at you with a small smile, worry was waiting to take over his face around the edges. “You alright, honey?” You hummed approvingly, nodding at the same time.

“Just thinking,” you said, closing the book you’ve been trying to read for an hour now. “Got lost in my head.” Bucky didn’t say anything but continued to watch you. The worry was slowly taking over his face. “I’m fine, Bucky, really.”

“Look,” he started, “I’ve known you nearly for nine years now, so I know when something isn’t alright. What is it?” You sighed. You hated bothering him with your money issues because you knew that he was just going to offer to pay everything himself, and just let you be his roommate without having to pay anything ever again. You couldn’t have that. You also knew that he wasn’t going to let you go if you didn’t tell him what had been going around in your head.

You took a deep breath and opened your mouth to answer him when the idea struck you.

His offer.

You looked at him. The corners of your lips were curling upwards slowly as the expression on his face got more confused and worried.

“Why are you looking at me like you are about to kill me?” He asked, tentatively taking a few steps back. You grinned. You probably looked like a psychopath right now, but if he was still up to it, this thing was going to help you a lot.

“Do you remember the conversation we had in Central Park while we were still in high school? It was a week after the applications,” you explained. He frowned for a second.

“We had a lot of conversations that day, honey, be more specific,” he said, and you nodded. He was right. You’ve stayed there for hours and talked about thousands of things.

“We were talking about how expensive the college is and I said I might start an OnlyFans account? You made me promise that I’ll come to you if I ever wanted to create content with someone. Remember now?” You watched his eyes grow wide with a smirk.

“Um,” he stammered. “Look, I’m definitely on board with that, but I want you to know that I can cover you if you want, alright? Like, y-you don’t have to post pictures or videos of your body just to pay rent, I can handle it, okay?” Your smirk turned into a soft, fond smile.

“I know, James,” you murmured softly, “Thank you.” Then, you stood up from your seat and walked up to him. Your fingers trailed over the sharp cut of his jawline, nails scratching his scruff. “Even though the main reason of why I wanna do this is paying my share of rent and bills, but I won’t say no to get laid. God knows I need it,” you scoffed at yourself. “So, are you going to help me, James?” You looked at him through your lashes. You could see that his eyes darkening and feel his jaw twitching.

“You really want it to be me?” He asked. You nodded. Other than casual hook-ups, both of you were single, and you lived in the same apartment so, it was supposed to work perfectly. Bucky’s eyes darkened more like it was possible and stepped forward to press his body against yours. “We gotta set some rules,” he said as he brushed your hair back gently. You shivered. You’ve been this close before, he shouldn’t have been affecting you this much, but fuck him, he was.

“Okay,” you whispered. He smiled and leaned in just a little bit so that your lips would brush against each other. You gasped softly.

“Yeah, I know what you need, honey,” he whispered, and then smiled. Pulling back, he gave you a smirk. “Gotta go, but we’ll talk about the rules tonight,” he said and in ten seconds, he was out.

“Fuck,” you whispered as you let your body fall back onto the plush couch. Suddenly, you weren’t so sure about the whole thing because you knew he was going to ruin you for all the other men. “I’m fucked,” you whined.

Royally, you added in your mind and whined a bit more.

──

It was a week later when you decided to start.

Like he said, you talked about all the rules and things about what to do and avoid, and then you set up an account. Bucky went and bought a camera just for this purpose, and when you complained about it, he promised to use it for other purposes, too. After everything was ready, he took you out for a lingerie shopping.

“You’re already sexy as hell, honey,” he had said, “but we gotta make you look even sexier. I have an eye, y’know it, so I’m gonna help.”

Now, you were in a red colored lacy number with garter belt and fishnet stockings adorning your legs. You had shiny leather gloves that went up to your mid-upper arms. You decided to forego the shoes, and Bucky agreed. When you were done with putting on everything Bucky bought for you, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You looked fucking sexy.

“You ready?” You heard Bucky ask and took a deep breath. You couldn’t help but feel nervous because Bucky was about to see you in a fucking sexy lingerie. He was about to your ass in its all glory since you were wearing a thong. “Y/N?”

You got out of the bathroom before you could convince yourself to give up the whole OnlyFans idea, and honestly? The look on Bucky’s face made it damn worth it that you didn’t back out.

He straightened up from where he was sitting on the edge of your bed. His eyes went dark quickly. His face darkened, and you saw his lips parting before his tongue peeked out to lick his lips very invitingly. His now-almost-black eyes moved down and up and down again on your body, and he took a deep breath.

“Motherfuck, Y/N, you look so fucking sexy,” he grunted, it was actually very close to a groan, your brain noted. Bucky took another deep breath and held his hand out to you. “C’mere, baby,” he whispered. Shivering lightly, you walked up to him, taking his hand. His fingers wound into yours immediately, squeezing just a little, and he pulled you forward.

With a gasp, you fell onto his lap, arms wound up around his neck and his arms around your waist. His body was so warm, so solid and big under you, you felt like you were very close to fainting.

“Damn,” he whispered, “You were already beautiful, and now in this thing? Fuck me, you have no idea how gorgeous you look, love.” You whimpered just a little, scooting a bit forward on his lap, plastering your own chest to his. His white, wifebeater was only providing you a nice view of his bulging biceps and giving you a little peek of his pecs. His sweatpants, however, they were doing very little to hide… things.

“James…” You breathed. Bucky cursed under his breath and pulled back just for a second to reach behind you. You knew he started the recording, you knew that there would be a little red light blinking at you; you shivered. This was so unlike you, but you wanted to it. Wanted to do it with Bucky.

“Ready, love?” He whispered, and you nodded. “You know what to do if you wanna stop or take a breather, right?” You nodded again. “Tell me your safeword, sweetheart.”

God, you thought, he’s laying it thick on pet names. “Winter,” you whispered. He placed a kiss on the tip of your nose, making you chuckle lightly.

“Good girl, honey,” he whispered and it was fucking on.

He leaped forward to catch your lips with his, moaning loudly in relief when the soft skin of his lips touched yours, you arched into it. His hands were roaming all over your body, nails dragging lines and making you shiver, while his hands were occasionally grabbing your ass and slapping it lightly. You moaned into the kiss when you felt his tongue licking on your bottom lip, and you felt it slip inside when you gasped.

Bucky already had you putty in his hands, you realized, and you wondered what you were going to be in when he was done with you.

“Alright,” he said with a low voice. He gathered you up in his arms and stood, turning around, he placed you in the middle of your bed. “I’m gonna take some pictures, that okay baby?” You nodded, teeth already digging into your bottom lip. Bucky watched your face a couple seconds; his thumb saving your bottom lip from the abuse of your teeth and he stroked it slowly. You poked your tongue out to lick his thumb, and then closed your lips around the digit. “Shit,” he cursed. “Pictures,” he grunted as he pulled his finger out of your mouth. You giggled.

He grabbed his phone that was sitting on your bedside drawer. He did a quick work on opening his camera app and looked at you. “Turn around. Lemme see that peach, hm?” You felt heat licking all over your body as you gasped. Slowly turning around, you pulled your knees under you as you stretched your arms forward to grab the headboard. This position gave your back a beautiful arch, you knew it.

“Goddamn,” he whispered as he moved himself around to get a good light for the picture, and you heard the soft ‘click’ sound a few seconds later. You looked at him over your shoulder, lifting your head just a little. You heard another ‘click’. Smirking, also feeling that you were gaining some sort of self-confidence, you placed your knees apart from each other on the bed, spreading them widely.

“God-fucking-damn, sweetheart,” Bucky groaned. He shuffled and pressed ‘click’ a couple times. You buried your head in the bed and deepened arch of your back, wiggling your ass playfully. Bucky hummed. He reached out to grab one of your cheeks, to dig his fingers into the soft flesh, and you gasped with the sudden touch. Click. Bucky hummed again and slapped your ass lightly. You moaned, pressing against the touch of his large and warm hand, you lay down on your chest.

Bucky trailed one finger down from your crack to your pussy. “Soaking it already?” He asked, voice low and hoarse. Lust, your brain realized, making you moan. Bucky rubbed you there with his thumb, over the soft fabric, and his other fingers dug themselves into the meat of your ass. “On your front,” he said, slapping your ass again. Swallowing a whimper, you did as he said.

“You look so fucking beautiful,” he whispered. You hummed and arched your back again, giving him a nice view of your chest. Click, click, click. Smiling, you lifted yourself up on your elbows. You could see that your effects for the pictures did not go waste: Bucky was hard and tenting his sweatpants. You lifted one of your legs in the air and pressed the sole of your feet to his stomach, right over his abs. You saw his cock twitching under the fabric, and your smile turned into a smirk.

“Drop the phone,” you whispered as you maneuvered yourself onto your knees, still facing him but also facing to the bulge in his sweatpants. Bucky did as you said and put the phone on the ground. “Lemme see you?” You asked next while pulling your gloves off. Bucky nodded and pulled his wifebeater off in a second.

He was a fucking god.

His beautifully tanned and smooth skin and taut muscles were blinking at you cheekily. You could see a faint happy trail leading to his cock. His arms were a bulging muscles and veins mess, and you wanted to trace those veins with your tongue.

Instead, you leaned forward and nosed his happy trail. His low groan and cursing were deaf to your ears because all you were focused on was the bulge that was touching your chin. You shuffled a bit forward and pulled his sweatpants down to his mid-thighs, making his cock slap against his stomach.

Thank fuck for Bucky Barnes and his love for going commando.

You’ve watched his dick swinging so many times when both of you were home. You’ve seen his dick both erect and flaccid through the thin fabric of his sweatpants. Finally, you were seeing it naked and all in display for you to play.

“Love,” Bucky whispered as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. He sounded turned on. Good, you thought and grabbed his cock. Nosing right under his cock head, you inhaled the natural musk smell coming off of him. You were so goddamn wet just by smelling him, you knew deep into your fucking bones that you were ruined for all the other men already.

Tongue poking out, you licked him clean with slow, kitten licks. Bucky cursed. He couldn’t tear his eyes off you; he watched you as you wrapped your beautiful lips around his cock, watched your tongue licking him from root to top.

Bucky was going fucking crazy.

“Y/N, holy shit,” he moaned when you took him in your mouth. His eyes closed briefly as he tossed his head back with the pleasure. You hummed and bobbed your head up and down. He felt so nice, so thick and full in your mouth; you never wanted to let him go. Bucky grunted when you swallowed around him. He was already so damn close, it was embarrassing.

“Baby,” he said. “I’ll come if you continue to do that again.” You made a soft sound. You wanted him to come in your mouth, but there was this whole video thing to go through, so you pulled off. Bucky, always good at reading you, stroked your cheek. “Some other time I’ll let you have it in your mouth, alright?” You nodded. He smiled. “Move up,” he commanded, inclining his head towards the bed. You scrambled to follow his order. You spread your legs as soon as you were in a comfy position.

“I could eat you up…” He whispered. He crawled towards you on his knees, sweatpants ditched already and he was naked. He looked up at you, his dark eyes boring into yours intimately. Bucky nosed your clothed core. “Maybe I should…”

Whimpering, you wiggled slightly. He chuckled. It was a dark sound that sent chills down your spine. He grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulder. Laying down on his stomach, he licked a fat line over the fabric.

“James!” You cried out. He rubbed his scruff covered jaw all over your inner thighs. His fingers grabbed the hem of your panties and he pulled them down, ripping them under the fishnet stockings and he threw them somewhere in the room. You gasped at the strength show. You could feel yourself getting even wetter. “Fuck,” you whispered. Bucky smirked. His tongue poked out to lick you clean.

It took you a second to realize that he was mimicking your ministrations on you. You let out a laugh which turned into a moan as the tip of his tongue nudged your clit. Arching your back, you grabbed his long hair. You knew he was good with his mouth; no mouth like his could be bad, anyhow.

“God, James,” you whispered harshly. He licked, licked, sucked and licked again, and you were going crazy. His beard was rubbing all over the slick and soft flesh, irritating the skin there. You were loving the fact that you were going to have some nice beard burn tomorrow.

Bucky slurped, licked you clean and flicked his tongue against your clit one last time before he pulled back. As much as he wanted you to come on his face, he wanted your first orgasm to happen on his dick.

You whined as he pulled back but purred in satisfaction when he laid on you, caging you under his big and muscle-y body. He was making you feel small and precious and honestly, you loved that feeling. It felt even better when it was Bucky.

“Lemme see them, yeah?” He whispered as he slowly peeled your bra off. Throwing it somewhere when it came off, Bucky didn’t waste any time to latch on to one of your nipples.

“Fuck!” You yelped at the sudden warmth around the delicate flesh, back bowing and chest pushing against his face even more with the new position. He flicked his tongue around, sucked and you felt his teeth nipping the flesh lightly. One of his hands was grabbing your other breast, fingers rolling the nipple. “Jaaames!” You whined, your fingers were still wound up tight in his hair. He hummed and pulled back with a pop.

“Fine,” he grumbled, turning your world upside down in a blink.

With a gasp, you were flipped around and were put on your stomach with your hips tilted up. Bucky’s knees were right outside of your thighs while your legs were as spread wide as they could. You could feel his hard cock right against your wet pussy, and you couldn’t help but moan and wiggle your ass a bit. Bucky groaned. His hips moved against yours, cock dragging up and down on your pussy as he reached for a condom. Both of you were clean and you were on pill, but he still wanted to make sure that you were not to get pregnant.

Bucky placed his hands on your waist and slowly moved them up and wound on of them in your hair. He made a fist, pulling them tightly to the side to expose your neck. You gasped and whimpered.

“Ready, baby?” He asked. You nodded. “You sure? Y’alright?”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Yeah, ‘m fine, please.” Wiggling your ass against his cock, you moaned lightly. Bucky cooed at you softly, his free hand roaming all over your back in a soothing move. His fingers dipped into the holes of the stockings, ripping them just a little to make some room, and then he dipped his fingers inside of you. You cried out. Immediately clenching around the long and thick digits, you moaned.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Bucky cursed. “Tight as a fucking virgin, shit.” You hummed and canted your hips against him, practically riding his fingers. He made a sound of approval, removed his fingers and lined his cock up.

“Yes,” you moaned. “Yes, gimme!”

“Alright, love, don’t worry. I’mma give you what you need.” Swearing once again, Bucky slid inside of you with one slow thrust.

You screamed. Your back arched, hips tilted even higher and you clenched around his hard cock. Bucky cursed. His fingers were grabbing your hair tighter, almost making your scalp hurt, but you were loving the sting. You moaned and hummed as he started to thrust in and out. His pace was careful and slow, and remained like that until he deemed that you adjusted his length and width.

“God, shit, James,” you moaned. “You feel so good in me, so big…” Eyes closed, you threw your head back. Bucky responded your moan with his own. Just like you said, you felt so damn good around him. It felt like his cock was being wrapped tightly with hot silk. “Faster?” You asked, looking at him over your shoulder with wide eyes.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he let go of your hair and placed both hands on your hips for support. His hips fastened their pace. His balls, full to the brim, were swinging back and forth, occasionally slapping against your slicked covered skin. You were so wet that every movement of Bucky’s cock in you was making an obscene squelching sound. You could feel your thighs getting wetter with Bucky’s each thrust.

“James,” you whispered. “Fuck, James, ‘m close.” Your harsh whisper reached to his ear between the loud thrusts of his hips, and he grabbed you by the waist and throat to pull you up. You made a sobbing sound as the changed position made his cock drove in you even deeper. You loved the feeling of having him deep.

Bucky hugged you close to his chest; one of his arms was around your waist while the other was winding under your right arm, his right hand was loosely wrapped around your throat. You found the loose hand on your throat surprisingly grounding, and you sighed. Your hips flushed against his, you looked like you were sitting on his thighs in this position.

“Come whenever you wanna, love,” he whispered in your ear and placed a kiss on your cheek. The arm around your waist shifted on your hip, and he resumed his thrusts.

Having him way deeper was going to push you off the edge quicker than before, you could feel it. The tension in your belly was coiling with every single thrusts of his, your clit throbbing and your walls clenching around him; you were right there.

You sobbed. Your hands scrambled to grab any part of him; one of them wound up in his hair while the other grabbed the back of his thigh. “Yes,” you whimpered. “There!” You moaned when a little shift in his thrust lightened something up in you. “Fuck, ‘m─” Gasping, you swallowed the sob down. Your legs were trembling, pussy and stomach visibly clenching, you felt your nipples tighten up almost painfully.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky moaned loudly. His long hair was obscuring his face just a little bit, the ends of it tickling your shoulders. His scruff was rubbing against your neck, you could feel his happy trail against your ass, and with all these heightened senses you couldn’t hold onto your orgasm any longer.

You came on Bucky’s cock with a scream got trapped in your throat suddenly. Mouth wide open with a silent scream, your body convulsed and trembled against Bucky’s. If it weren’t his arms holding you upright against his chest, you would have collapsed face-first down on the bed, you knew it.

The spectacular fog of orgasm had covered your mind, making you vaguely aware of Bucky’s jack-rabbit thrusts. He was panting in your ear, hands tightened on your flesh and throat, you could feel his cock twitching in you. You turned your head to him lazily, still drowsy from your orgasm. Your hand on his thigh moved to his cheek to turn his face to yours.

“Come for me,” you whined lightly against his lips. You gave him a chaste kiss on the lips and whispered again. “C’mon, James, come for me.” Kissing him again, this time you bit down on his bottom lip and clenched your pussy around him tighter.

He gasped, his thrusts going mad as he moved his hips one, two, three more times before he stilled. Cock twitching, balls tightening up, he came inside the condom as his body crumpled forward. As he went down on the bed, he took you with him. Never letting you go, he cuddled you against his chest.

Five minutes later, breathing turned back normal, Bucky chuckled. “Goddamn,” he said and you grunted in approval. “You alright? Was I too rough?” You shook your head as you gave him thumbs up. He chuckled again. He rubbed your hips gently as he pulled out of you slowly. You grimaced as he did and watched him disposing the condom. He got off the bed, stopping the recording. “I don’t think this video will ever need an editing, but we’ll see I guess,” he murmured. He walked into the bathroom to grab a cloth to clean you up and himself, and then joined you back in the bed with camera in his hands.

“Shall we watch it before we upload it online?” He asked, brow cocked. You looked at him; his hair was a mess and his lips were red, his body had sweat glistening all over. He looked thoroughly fucked out, and you wanted to see him fucking you while looking like this for… who knows how many minutes. So, you nodded. “Alright,” he murmured and poked around the camera. You settled against his arm, head resting on his meaty shoulder. “Here we go…”

──

It was no surprise that watching fifty-six minutes of heavenly sex tape had led you to another round of sex. This time you riding Bucky into oblivion as he dirty talked the shit out of you.

At the very end, you decided to post the pictures first because Bucky was a bit hesitant about posting your very first sex tape online since it was ‘probably amateur’ and ‘you needed to get better a little’. You didn’t buy it, of course.

So, you cornered him only to learn that he didn’t want the video of you having sex with him the first time to be all over the internet, he wanted to keep it private. It was a very touching thought.

It only took Bucky to a little bit more cornering to admit that his crush on you back high school had never passed.

“Y-you… What?” You asked, feeling dumb. He chuckled nervously. “You have a crush on me ever since high school?” Feeling absolutely dumb, you kissed him on the lips. Bucky let out a confused noise but returned your kiss anyway. “You idiot!” You shrieked.

“What?” Bucky shrieked at you back. You kissed him again.

“I was depressed all those times thinking that you moved on from me!” You said, causing Bucky to freeze for a second. “I thought you moved on and I lost my chance…” You continued but more softly this time.

“Wait,” Bucky pulled back. “You like me back?” You nodded. He looked at you without blinking for a little while. “We are idiots. You’re in this shit with me.” You snorted as he rolled his eyes. But then, he leaned in to give you the softest kiss ever. You sighed happily. “So, are you up for a ‘congrats-you’re-an-idiot-couple’ sex?” He asked, face scrunching adorably.

Laughing, you climbed on his lap again and kissed him passionately as his answer. Bucky just moaned and indulged in it happily.

#bucky barnes x reader #bestfriend!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x you #bestfriend!bucky #bucky barnes au #shameless

3K notes · View notes

misora-msby · 3 years

Text

embarrassing moments with inarizaki

inarizaki always looks so cool but you know they’re actually dorks and i am here to provide you the content to show theyre clowns. enjoy the headcanons :)

Kita Shinsuke

firstly. kita shinsuke being embarrased? making a mistake? unheard of.

he’s a perfect man and we all know it.

anyways

you two were having a nice dinner out together.

it was a pretty fancy place so you decided to dress in a different style today

but you were beginning to wonder if kita liked it or not because he seemed to keep looking past your shoulder instead of at you

he was an observant guy so you were wondering if something had happened behind you

but you couldn’t hear anything weird so you assumed not

you decided to just stay quiet about it at first but now it was beginning to become annoying!

why wasn’t he looking you in the eye to speak?

midway through your dinner, kita finally spoke up tho

“y/n, your shirt is slipping... yer bra’s showing.”

oh.

right. you were wearing your off-shoulder top.

“o-oh. shin, it’s that kind of shirt, you know?” you had to explain your outfit to ur bf with a pink face.

“oh... that so... well it’s cold these days so if yer feelin’ cold lemme know. i’ll give ya my jacket.”

GOD HES SO PERFECT KITA SHINSUKE I HOPE U MARRY HIM???????

Ojiro Aran

another man with next to no flaws.

but nature says everyone has to make some mistake.

so it was a regular school day, our aran has just come to class from morning practice and there’s still some time left until class starts.

all the girls in class are gathered around a table

he’s not sure why, it’s probably watching an idol video

but ur man wants to be a little romantic!!

plus he just showered so he smells Great uwu

he goes over and hugs you from behind, placing his chin on ur head.

“hey, bb whatcha ya doin”

all the girls gasp.

he doesn’t get whats wrong, it’s not like it’s a secret y’all are dating

pda to this level aint bad either

especially compared to his teammate miya atsumu

“ojiro aran.”

why is your voice behind him

he looks down and nearly faints when he sees he hugged the wrong girl.

to be fair she looked a lot like you from behind, just maybe 1cm shorter.

“i’m so sorry!” he keeps apologising to literally everyone and all the class is giggling bc they never seen their school’s ace so red before.

“didn’t think i’d come back from the toilet and see my bf cheatin”

“IT WAS A MISTAKE! I’M SERIOUS! Y/N U KNOW I LOVE YA!”

hes so funny i swear

the volleyball team hears of it and it gets even better

Miya Atsumu

it’s not a secret that miya atsumu, setter of the inarizaki volleyball team and invited to national youth training camp, had a gf

he was very much in love with u

the whole class knew it because he’d show it off whenever he could too

so here comes valentines day

last year he received like... 50 different gifts from girls and guys aiming to win his love.

you didnt even give him one lmAOOOOO

but this year, he had been not so subtly trying to hint that “i better not receive any chocolates this year when i’ve got a gf!”

he reaches school and plops into his seat.

there’s an anonymous box of chocolates with “please accept my love, miya-kun! <3″ on it

“the hell’s this?!”

“oh? chocolates?” - osamu who just popped his head into the class to shove into his twin’s face how much chocolate he got.

especially since the blond was off limits, the grey-haired twin had a bigger following now.

“do they not know i have a girlfriend...”

“well, ya might as well eat it. ya dont know who to return it to.”

“that’s like receivin’ their love!”

“no it ain’t. it’s just food.”

atsumu couldn’t argue with that and popped a piece in.

it was very delicious. the chocolate practically melted on his tongue and was the perfect sweetness and was filled with a delicious ganache too.

it was perfect

but he couldn’t accept this!

“it ain’t even good. too sweet and the filling’s sticky.”

“ah. really? is that what you think, tsumu?” you ask from the door where you had been watching the exchange take place.

“y/n! look at this! some weirdo gave me some choco and like... samu said to test it but i’ll toss it out, promise.”

“tsumu, i made that... i wrote it anonymously because i thought you’d know it was me and i wanted to tease you a little.”

“huh.”

osamu: “yeah actually i went over to her place to teach her how to make it.”

atsumu: “you said you went to suna’s place?!”

osamu: “i went there later but i first went to help her.”

you: “anyways if it’s not good i don’t mind if you toss it out...”

tsumu: “NO NO BABE I PROMISE IT’S GOOD”

you: “you just said-”

“BABE I SWEAR IT’S GOOD I JUST DIDN’T WANT TO ACCEPT A STRANGER’S STUFF”

“you’re always so honest though... are you sure?” you were having your fun teasing him now.

“BB PLSSSSSS”

he still cringes at the memory 4 years into ur marriage

Miya Osamu

osamu would DEFINITELY make home made dinner dates a regular thing.

this alone shows he’s the better twin - miya atsumu stan

he loves cooking and eating with you so sometimes when he’s got a day off you guys’ll set aside the afternoon to make a real nice dinner

imagine candlelit dinner with miya dorito body osamu in a suit

of course some fun stuff happens after too ;)))

and today’s your third anniversary!!

so osamu adds lots of ‘natural aphrodisiacs’ to the meal

i’m talkin

garlic bread and soup for an appetiser, a nice juicy steak with garlic and red wine sauce for the main, and chocolate coated strawberries for dessert

mm yummy

you two cleaned your plates completely (it was very delicious) and as you were washing the dishes, osamu comes up behind and wraps his arms around your waist

“yes, ‘samu?”

“i’ve already prepared us a nice bath with yer favourite scents.” he’s got his head resting on ur chin

“really? thank you~ i’ll be there in a bit”

but he doesn’t let go of you while you’re still scrubbing at the baking sheets.

“osamu, you can let go for now.”

“don’t feel like it.”

“i gotta wash the dishes since you did most of the cooking.”

“mmm, i’ll do it if ya gimme a kiss.”

you roll ur eyes bc what a cutie

u turn ur head to give him a kiss but suddenly he

he burps

that garlicy wine smell is just kinda there

“ew! ‘samu!!”

his face is real red but he’s also trying not to laugh because he’s still a dude and this is absolutely hilarious to him

“want another?” he starts teasing

“i’m not getting in the bath with you.”

“wait wait wait i’m sorry, i’ll go brush my teeth and give you a proper kiss”

Suna Rintarou

you two were taking the train home today

it was quite late due to practice going a little longer than usual, so he insisted he walked you back home today.

sunarin can be a good boyf sometimes ok

it was getting a little crowded on the train tho, since people were heading home or going out for dinner

luckily you had already grabbed seats so you were quite comfortable sitting side by side.

you and suna have the type of relationship were you dont have to talk all the time

silence is v comfy.

he’s just scrolling through twitter on his phone while you’re looking around the car, lost in ur thoughts

suddenly you notice an old lady standing a little bit away from you and you stand up

“baa-san, please take my seat.” you whisper in the crowded carriage

“oh how kind of you. thank you, dearie.” she smiles and takes your seat while you stand in front of her and suna instead.

suna doesn’t realise this exchange has happened tho

(he’s on his phone as usual)

probably starting some fights on twitter

he decides to try to be a little romantic and pretends to stretch his arm around (who he thought was) you.

“rin.”

why is your voice right in front of him?

“young man, i appreciate it but i’m married.”

suna jumps as he sees someone he did not recognise next to him.

he looks up and notices you had moved.

you’re giggling

the granny’s giggling

atsumu and osamu sitting opposite on the carriage look like they’re going to cry because they’re trying not to laugh

“i was just stretching. really.” he mumbles and crosses his arms, face red as a tomato

he’s so embarrassed.

Ginjima Hitoshi

sometimes the inarizaki vbc would go for an after practice snack at the nearby family mart

they were really hungry after an intense preparation for nationals which was in two weeks so kita insisted they all get something to fill them up on the way home

but lucky lucky ginjima hhehe

you (his classmate who he had a crush on) were working at the cash register today.

“welcome!” you greet everyone as they enter

he cant help but stiffen up a bit

why are u so cute and cheery today

the 2nd years already know what to do.

“heyy, i think last week i bought ya that ramen right? ya owe me my konbini snacks today!” - atsumu

“yeah. you lost a bet to me last week so u gotta pay up. a pack of jelly fruit sticks please.” - suna

“forgot my money today, mind payin’ for my snacks too?” - osamu

“like hell i’m paying for all of you. especially you, osamu. you eat too much all the time.”

aran’s noticed what’s going on,

“hey, if it’s just for today you can do it right? if ‘samu don’t pay ya back tomorrow i’ll nag him ‘til he does.”

“fine...” his basket is full when he goes to the counter.

he’s trying his best not to have a red face while watching u scan the items, ur hair swaying slightly as u look back and forth between the objects and the screen.

“alright. 4,890 yen please!” GOD he hated how expensive it was, that’s almost all his weekly allowance but bc it’s u and ur voice saying it it’s kinda ok

“mm, ok.” he still has his eyes on you while he takes out his wallet and puts it on the counter.

yes

his wallet, not the money

“...” “...”

“excuse me, sir. this is...”

he almost slaps his face wtf he’s so embarrassed.

“s-sorry. just a little absent minded after practice.” he starts pulling out his cash.

“it’s fine! i know how hard you guys practice!” you smile while performing the rest of the transaction and pass him his big bag of goods. “good luck for nationals, ginjima-kun!”

he almost runs out of the store and is about to fight the rest of the 2nd years for watching and (suna) recording

2K notes · View notes

astaroth1357 · 3 years

Text

Demigod MC Series: Demeter

Have I been using this series to vicariously punish Belphie for the events of Season 1? I cannot confirm nor deny that statement.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter

Lucifer

Didn't think too much of the "human" when they popped out of the portal. Sure they had a straw hat and a huge basket full of produce but it wasn’t like they were… Wait… No… Were they…?

Oh no. Oh nonononono, this is not good…!!

Demeter is notoriously doting and protective of her children (see her freakout and breakdown after Hades abducted of Persephone as proof) and they've pretty much done the EXACT. SAME. THING. here!!

It was a mad scramble by him and Diavolo to contact and appease their godly Mother Bear before she came roaring down to Devildom herself to turn them all into barley. Thankfully, Zeus must have intervened at some point because though she was indeed PISSED, she didn't threaten to barge in… yet.

She made one thing very clear. Bend so much as a single hair on her precious child's head and there would be WAR…

The MC received a 24 hour security detail after that. Just Mammon wasn't going to cut it, he needed NO chances. It was a full rotation of Mammon, him and Beel for the entirety of their stay (Asmo and Levi both threw hissy fits at the prospect of babysitting, Satan couldn’t be trusted not to kill them just to irritate him, and Belphie was out for… obvious reasons).

In some ways, it wasn’t so bad. The MC was a very mild sort of person, rather even tempered. He’d dare say they were pleasant, mostly content to just tend to their gardens and be out in the moonlight…

But the problem was, he just could not convince them to stay OUT of nature. Including the forests, which were full of hellish beasts fully intent on gnawing their flesh from their bones… and their specialty was plants, not animals, sooo…

Their habit of sneaking out to wander the woods got so bad that he very nearly considered pulling a Belphie 2 and locking them in the basement for their own good. But Devil knows what damage their mother would do if she found out…

At least they make for pleasant company… And Diavolo seems to like them quite a bit himself so the mortal gets a pass from him. Now if they’d only consider their own safety for a change…

Mammon

They make him a KILLING.

Like, no seriously. Their produce is insane!! He’s never tasted food so good, especially stuff that’s come fresh from the ground! It only took a few berries for Mammon to throw on a straw hat himself and start harvesting! He’s a farmer now, baby!!

Weeellll not quite. He’s still absolutely only in it for the money, but anything he brings to a farmer’s market goes so fast that he can hardly care about the labor! He’s never made this much Grimm in his life!! And it’s totally legit for a change!

He bought himself another car, paid off half of his debt, and even got Levi back that 2 or 3 grand he leant him centuries ago. Really, Mammon’s living his best life and it’s all thanks to MC!

It’s a good thing his blatant grifting doesn’t hurt his relationship with them at all, in fact they seem to enjoy having his help regardless. They bring him drinks on hot days or invite him on picnics and stuff, it’s… it’s really sweet. They’re very nice to him and he appreciates it…

But… COULD YA JUST STAY PUT ALREADY???

It drives him INSANE that they won’t stay out of dangerous places!! After he started caring about them for more than just a meal ticket it only got even worse!!

He’s not usually one for monitoring someone’s every move (that kind of control freak behavior is more a Lucifer thing) but he eventually had to set up familiars around the House just to keep them from sneaking out at night...

What was so interesting out there anyway?? There wasn’t any kind of plant that he could bring them himself! They didn’t have any need to be out there!!

They’d keep telling him they’d be fine but it’s not like he’s going to actually buy that. They were too… nice to be dangerous or anything so why would he believe them?

No more running off, MC! Please, he’s beggin’ ya!!

Leviathan

Wait, gardening? Like, being outdoors and stuff? Ew. No thanks, he’ll pass.

That was more or less his first reaction when they showed up and it never really got much better than that…

He admits that they’re friendly and it’s not like he dislikes them or anything, but their thing so far from his thing that they just don’t have a lot in common… you know?

For starters, they get So. Antsy. when they’re inside for too long! He tried to invite them to a marathon once, but they could hardly keep still and kept looking around like they were searching for a window… He said, “to jump out of.” They insisted just for some fresh air, but he didn’t buy it...

They’re nice enough to listen to his rants, but they’re barely ever inside for him to do so and like HELL is he going to leave his room and stand around out there for that long. Ranting is at least a one to two hour engagement! What if he gets hot out there? And have you SEEN Devildom bees?? Hell no!!

He has, however, asked them on multiple occasions to reproduce flowers he’s seen in different anime, especially ones that have a very unique look and they’ve done some real wonders with that!

He can now claim to be the only person to ever own a Ruby-Jade Vine plant, straight from the pages of TSL when it was used to brew tea for the Lord of Lechery during his brief illness and-is anyone even still listening anymore?

The point is, it’s a flower so rare it was imaginary but now HE has it!... or had it for about a week until his utter incompetence of all things plant killed it…

He begged the MC for another but they were out of the plants they needed to make it and would have to go back to the human world to find more… He’s still mourning his loss… Poor Henry 4.0…

Satan

Well… He’s called this MC “salt of the Earth” and he does truly mean it. Take of that what you will.

He doesn’t get much in the way of intellectual conversation out of this mortal UNLESS he’s talking about plants, farming, or botany… Interesting topics and complex in their own right to be sure, but that’s pretty much their wheelhouse and they like it there.

That being said, the feats that they can perform are genuinely mind-blowing! They are the ONLY person he has ever met who can cultivate the Devildom’s own ultra-rare Phantom Orchid, a plant only blooms when it reaches a perfect state of undeath (i.e. both taken care of and neglected just enough so that it's only barely alive. The balance is so tricky to master that one hasn’t bloomed down there for centuries!)

There’s also something just genuinely relaxing about watching them work or helping them in the gardens… More so than he’d ever expected from such a simple activity.

He admits that he’s taken quite a few strolls through the flower-filled courtyard of the Demon Lord’s Castle just to admire its beauty... But anything that they can grow just blows all of that out of the water!

They even taught him several magic botanical techniques so now he can grow some pretty mad plants himself. Lucifer never expected to find that giant Venus Flytrap in his closet, but one was there regardless. 😏

Just… out of curiosity one day, he asked the MC if they could make him a new kind of catnip. Not for any nefarious reason! You know… just for research purposes…

The nip they made was so effective that the House grounds were FILLED with nipped-up cats for a whole month! He was in Heaven!! (and Lucifer practically wiped those plants from existence so he couldn’t get any more… asshole...)

That must have inspired them because they apparently made a demons-only version that they told him about WELL after the fact. Had he known, he probably would have burned the stuff on principle... Do you know how dangerous demon-nip could be to them? Experiment responsibly, MC!

Asmodeus

Ehhhh, gardening SOUNDS like one of those things that should be super Devilgram-able, but then you realize how sweaty and dirty you get in the process and it’s a huge turn off… Sorry MC.

When they first came down to the Devildom, he thought two things: 1) Such a sweet little flower child, as adorable as they were, would never survive; and 2) even if they could, he would never ever see eye-to-eye with them on the “wonders” of getting all up in the dirt.

Well, he was right about 2, but certainly not 1. Personally, he thinks his brothers worry about them too much, they ARE still a demigod.

At one point he saw a pack of hellhounds almost trample one of their vegetable gardens and they lost it. Word to the wise, never try to take on a child of Demeter in their own garden. Those hounds were wrapped up in rose vines before they could even yelp...

Yeah, the MC would be fine.

That being said, while everybody else clamors over their produce, he thinks that their flowers are really where it’s at!

Taking just five minutes in one of their gardens is something else... He’s never seen blossoms as healthy and immaculate in all the Devildom before! Their beauty could (almost) rivals his own! What they do isn’t just a hobby, it’s an art.

He’s taken multiple pictures with their blossoms and they go viral every time. It’s so rare to actually see gorgeous, petal-filled flowers in the Devildom, most of the native plants are of the man-eating variety.

His only complaint about this MC is that they seem to feel much more at home in work clothes and dirt than they do in any sort of party-look he tries to give them… Cute as they are, they can afford to gussy up sometimes can’t they? Mud and grass stains don’t make for a good look, sorry.

Beelzebub

Beel gardens and the MC gardens as well. Add on that they seem to be able to grow all manner of fruits and veggies and he likes this one. A lot.

They had just finished apple-picking when the portal nabbed them so they had a massive basket of apples at the time. Naturally, Beel more or less stole the thing on sight, but the apples inside were so juicy and good that he almost shook them down for more on the spot!

Imagine his surprise when they, half pleadingly, explained to him that if he got them some seeds they could just grow more… and it wouldn’t even take that long.

To be clear, the formula he saw was this: Get seeds > bring seeds to mortal > mortal grows seeds > mortal makes endless supply of food….

Congratulations MC, you’ve now earned the sixthborn’s eternal loyalty after a grand total of… two minutes. He didn’t even know their name, but he was willing to take a bullet for them (provided he got more of those apples).

The next several months were spent with Beel attached to them to the hip in some way, but honestly? It was just so wholesome anyway…

If he’s helping in the garden, he never complains. He does most of the heavy lifting and actually likes being out there with them (unlike others...)

Many afternoons were spent sitting under fruit trees and talking. Sometimes, they go to the trouble of preparing a picnic or something but it would always inevitably end with Beel plucking the whole tree clean of whatever ripe (or unripe) fruit he can get his hands on with a smile.

The MC never minded though. That’s just another excuse to grow more, right?

His only problem was when the MC would sneak out to the forest… especially when they get too antsy and just go alone.

He HATES it when they do that! How is he supposed to keep them safe if they just wander off?? He knows that they have a special connection to nature and all, but it isn’t safe…

He’s flown in and scooped them back up to the House on numerous occasions and his “talking tos” get sterner after every rescue... Please stay put, MC! He’d have so many reasons to be sad if you were eaten… 😔

Belphegor

Okay, he was looking for a capable, if not gullible, human. Not a shoeless flower hippy!

He honestly wasn't expecting much out of this one... Damn their little heart because they did genuinely believed his lies, it’s just that they weren't… well… They were really good at gardening.

… And it grew kind of hard to keep hating them whenever they'd show up just to give him fresh berries or a bouquet to see him smile… He may claim that his heart is made of nightmares and orphan tears, but who doesn’t enjoy being given a batch of flowers?

Damn their sweetness too… Right to here.

When it came time to kill them he had a heavier heart than he thought he would, but kind of saw it like putting down the sacrificial lamb. Gotta be done to reach better goals... Stiff upper lip and all that.

Unfortunately for him, they had taken to carrying packets of demon-nip with them as a self-defense measure…

He wasn’t exactly sure what he expected when they shouted “Get nipped!” at him mid-attack, but it wasn’t a face full of some smelly herb! Like, really smelly…! Actually, that smelt kind of good… Hold on.

Turns out murderous rage really doesn’t last long after you get what is effectively ultra-strong catnip thrown in your face. They ended up having to go and tell Lucifer what happened themselves because Belphie was way too blissed out on the floor to do anything... They were legitimately worried they might have fried his brain...

He’s told the effects of the demon-nip lasted three days. He doesn’t know, because he hardly remembers any of it... They described him as like he was high on “weed” and “ecstasy” at the same time but he doesn’t know what either of those are either so it wasn’t helpful…

Truthfully, they were so nice to him while he was recovering that he couldn’t even be mad afterwards so all's well that ends well? Either way, he’s sleeping under their orchard trees from now on. It’s peaceful out there...

They burnt all that nip though. It’s some strong stuff...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me demigods #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

1K notes · View notes

stetervault · 3 years

Note

Hiii! Been delving into Steter now, in the year of our lord 2021, even though I never really did when I was active in the fandom years ago and I was wondering if you'd have some longfic recs for the ship? Like, fics that are Classics(TM)? But happy endings! And I'm not super into those in which Stiles is still underage 😬 do u have any recs? Thanks!

Welcome to the Steter fandom! I definitely have some long fics to rec, some of them are super old lol, and I'll stick to ones around 20k or over, and most of them are finished. And hmm, considering the ship, and a lot of fics like to start off in season 1 where Stiles is still technically a teenager, I'll try to limit these to ones with Stiles being at least 16/17 before anything starts happening, and only 18+ if there's explicit content. I hope that's okay.

drowning in the sea of you by Corpium

Beacon Hills was perfect for Stiles growing up, but now, with werewolves, hunters, and an anxious best friend running around, it's turning into a place too chaotic for an empath like Stiles to handle alone. And pain killers can only go so far.

Wake Me Up by ToAStranger

Stiles has been in a coma for six years. Now he's awake.

Tremors by Corpium

(Stiles has a taste for him now. All Peter needs to do is wait.)

Surviving Peter and the Zombie Apocalypse by Nopennamesleft

Its the end of the world and Stiles has run out of luck. He saves a werewolf from certain death. Will they begin to rely on each other to survive or will the wolf just eat Stiles for a midnight snack?

Bite Down by EclipseWing

In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.

as you are by veterization

Stiles runs straight into a tree and suddenly, things are... different. Namely, he's in a world where Peter Hale is his boyfriend.

Call My Name by KouriArashi

After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.

Devil of Mercy by KouriArashi

Peter's heard people talk about what it felt like when they saw their mate for the first time, from those who actually believe in the mystical bullshit. Like a magnet, like gravity. Peter just feels... sharply curious.

Whiskey is My Kind of Lullaby by taylorpotato

Peter is a simple saloon owner on one of the outer planets between the Aaru Belt and the Olympus Galaxy. He’s done with trouble. Done with adventure. So fucking done with rustlers. That is, until a cute young outlaw named Stiles wanders into his bar. Peter has this problem where he can’t seem to resist charming narcissists (perhaps because they remind him of himself). And when said narcissists turn his life upside-down, the worst part is he’s not even that upset about it.

Proposing To Strangers by moonstalker24

At the end of a strained relationship, crime novelist Stiles chooses to hide from the world inside a bar with far too many motorcycles outside it for comfort. Here he'll meet the man of his dreams, eat food and propose marriage, all within the first five minutes.

Peter doesn't know who this kid is, but he's cute and looks like he could use a break. So he feeds him. He's not expecting a marriage proposal, but with what comes after, he doesn't really mind.

Stiles Stilinski, Disaster Chef by Guede

The zombie apocalypse forces Stiles to learn how to cook.

The Will by Guede

We are gathered here today for the reading of Gerard Argent’s will.

On the Importance of Lunar Influences in Gardening by Guede

“Oh, it’s you again,” Stiles sighs. He puts down his basket and drops the bunch of onions into it, and then dusts off his hands. “Can’t you get your own strawberries? I mean, I have it on good authority that wild strawberries? They’re a thing. They exist. They’re out there.”

“But Stiles,” says the werewolf dangling by one foot from the tree, sticky red smears around his mouth and all over his fingers. “Your berries are so juicy, so ripe. Those ones in the woods are mere passing indulgences compared to the royal feast you have in your garden.”

Genii loci Stiles and his father run a community garden, and it’s all good, except for the werewolf who keeps sneaking over the fence to raid Stiles’ strawberry patch (and the hunter who’s constantly hanging around his father).

Runes and all kinds of things by FeelingsDusk (WIP)

Enough is enough. Stiles is tired of being always a last choice when he always tries to do his best for his precious people, so they better get their act together or face being left behind.

The things in the Argent's basement get nearly fatal, the Sheriff finds about the supernatural, Allison can have a wicked, wicked mind and Peter Hale appears to be everywhere.

Oh, and Stiles can't seem to stop breaking the laws of physics with his magic.

Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

Out Of The East, Never See The Sun Rise by neglectedtuesday

In the beginning, there are three absolutes.

One. Stiles is a god, forged of starlight and collapsing galaxies and he is eternal.

Two. Peter is human, fragile bone and viscous blood and he is temporary.

Three. Stiles and Peter are in love; love that claws its way inside one’s heart like fish hooks; all encompassing love that is beautiful but dangerous.

Stiles is a god. Peter is human. They love each other.

Three absolutes.

You Had Me at Canapes by LadyArinn

Stiles doesn't mean to sneak into the Hale wedding, and he certainly doesn't mean to have cliche coat-room sex with the bride's uncle, but what had happened, happened, and it wasn't like he could just leave. At least, not until he got to have some of that cake.

Infinite Space by DiscontentedWinter

Stiles needs Peter's expertise to help stop the latest threat to Beacon Hills. And, as the pack falls apart around him, he might even need Peter for more than that.

Hook, Yarn, Sinker by pprfaith

Stiles is happy with his store, his hobbies, his friends. Peter's just trying to figure out how to raise his nieces and nephew without fucking them up too badly.

Paths cross.

Open Wounds by Guede

Talia got out of the fire with Peter, but everyone else died. Years later, they’re still struggling with injuries, but they’ve at least settled in with oddball werewolf Stiles. And then other werewolves start showing up. Familiar ones.

Bittersweet Creek by Guede

When Stiles finally steps off the westward trail to California, he’s the last of his pack. He starts building a den, but then he finds a dying man next to a burnt-down house and it turns out he’s not really much of a settler, after all.

For Great Justice! by Green

Stiles is a vengeance demon, drawn to Peter just as he's waking from his catatonia.

"Whoever did this? We will make those fuckers suffer. I promise you."

Bone Deep by ShippersList

A body in the woods, a mate, and a long-awaited revenge.

Peter had no idea how his life would change when he followed the strange pull in his chest.

Love What is Behind You by KouriArashi

Basically what it says on the label. Hunger Games type fusion. Stiles doing way better than anyone anticipates. Peter finds him intriguing. Ruthless, devious assholes working together to ruin bad guys, as the Steter ship is meant to be.

Soothing the Burn by Therapeutic_Steter (WIP)

Peter is burnt out and breaking down. Stiles notices and offers him solace, along with the one thing he wants most: Pack.

Til Death by Bunnywest

“How long do we have to find him someone?” Stiles asks. “Two weeks,” says Derek, eyebrows pulling down even further. The fierceness of his expression tells Stiles just how concerned he is. “He marries, or he goes to the camps. And you know what your father told us,” Scott reminds her. The camps……aren’t camps. Peter either finds a wife, or he dies.

Ink Blossoms by Triangulum

"So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.

"Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.

"Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."

"To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."

Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.

"It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.

"Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.

After You by FlyAwayMeow (rjaejoo)

It’s true that sometimes what you want the most, you can’t have and that you’ll miss what you once had all along when it’s finally gone.

After breaking his engagement to Chris, Peter heads to New York to start over. He meets Stiles, a young author at his publishing house who helps him piece his confidence back together. When tragedy strikes, he discovers how to finally let go of his past and have the family and future he's always wanted with the pieces already in his life.

love me lights out by veterization

Stiles and Peter get snowed in together. (Or: what happens when you accept phone calls from people you haven't spoken to in over five years.)

Uncle Peter Doesn't Date by Mellow (SweetCandy) (WIP)

“Oh don’t lie, you love it.” Peter purred and winked at his newest arm candy, who spluttered for a few seconds, before blushing like a 16 year old virgin. Considering how young he looked Laura wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually 16. “Shut up Peter!” Bambi squeaked, still flushing and averting Laura’s eyes. “Well, anyways, I’m,” ‘Bambi’. “Stiles. Stiles Stilinski, pleasure to meet you- again.” Stiles smiled sheepishly, obviously nervous. Stiles Stilinski. Definitely a stripper then.

Or: Laura was prepared for whatever piece of armcandy her uncle had decided to show up with, what she hadn't been prepared for was Stiles Stilinski...her uncle's boyfriend.

Under the Songbird’s Wing by mia6363

Captivity easily destroys the will of escape. It can break the fiercest of animal. It can strip the most regal man and woman down to nothing but animal needs.

Captivity can, if met with unwavering determination, shape a person into something unimaginable.

Stiles is sixteen when he's captured. Stiles's first thought is, "I won't die here."

Baby Whisperer by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)

“What. Is that.”

Scott looked up at him, apprehensive.

“Her name’s Lily.”

Stiles stared at the fuzzy head peeking out of the papoose.

“Her. Her name. That is a real live human baby. Oh my God-”

“Actually I don’t know if she’s human?” Scott said with a confused frown. “Becca didn’t say.”

“Who the fuck is Becca?!”

Sacrificial Lamb by Bunnywest

The Alpha has a scruffy beard, unkempt hair and dazzling blue eyes. The scar on his face is raised, running down his cheek like a twisting, gnarled rope. Stiles knows that it came from the blade of Kate Argent herself, and that the Alpha got it fighting in the battle where Kate killed his lover, cutting his head clean from his neck, if the stories are to be believed.

The Alpha lets Stiles look his fill, before indicating that Stiles should take the other couch, and Stiles does so, his father’s words echoing in his ears. He can do this, can be pleasant and amenable. The lives of his people may depend on it. The Alpha spends long moments surveying him, before saying, “I like you, Stiles.”

You don’t know me, Stiles wants to blurt out, but he bites his tongue.

The Various Triumphs of Mischief Bilinski by Whispering_Sumire (WIP)

"Hello, Chris," sings a honeyed voice from behind.

Chris' attention snaps toward the intruder, his gun already out of its' holster and aimed at whoever it is — a boy, apparently, with braided russet hair, a red jacket, and wise eyes. He's wearing a gas mask, but Chris can tell by the way his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way sun-burnt sand swirls in his irises, that he's smiling.

Chris cocks his gun.

"You killed my father," he says.

"No offence, but he totally deserved it," the stranger agrees with cheerful solemnity.

"What the hell are you doing in my home?" Chris demands. The kid is perched on a windowsill in Chris' office, as nonchalantly as if this were something he did every day, as if they were familiar.

"I was just wondering," the kid speaks softly, fond amusement sewn through with a peculiar resignation, "how you'd feel about putting down some nazis?"

[Or: The one where Stiles goes back in time and subsequently fucks with everything.]

A Curious Magic by Triangulum

Overall, Stiles is very well-known in the supernatural community. It’d be hard not to be, not with how his reputation has grown like wildfire. He knows and is on good terms with nearly all the fae that reside in the preserve, the asrai that live deep in the lake, the Ito pack, the vampire couple that lives over in Beacon Valley (they buy an ethically-sourced food supply from Stiles), as well as almost every other supernatural entity in the area. But Talia Hale doesn’t like him, and a werewolf pack tends to do what their alpha tells them to.

So it’s a definite surprise when the wards at the edge of his property trip, the tingling down his spine telling him it’s a werewolf, the lack of burning sensation letting him know there’s no hostile intent. Stiles, in his office in the second floor turret, sets down the amulet he’s packing up for Marin and moves to the large window overlooking the front of his property. He’s expecting to see an Ito packmember, even though they nearly always call in advance, and is surprised to see a man that he recognizes as Talia’s brother, Peter.

Light in the Dark by cywscross

It still surprises Stiles sometimes, how easily he’s adapted. Seven months in a world filled with train tracks and soul-sucking fae, and it feels like he’s never known anything else.

Or, the one where diverting the Ghost Riders from Beacon Hills to prey on a different town only succeeded in setting them free.

Vengeance Looks Good On You, Sweetheart by cywscross

Just because Scott refuses to see the Argents for what they truly are - prejudiced serial killers sitting proudly on a mountain of innocent corpses - doesn't mean Stiles will. It's about time someone did something about the Argent Empire anyway, and what a coincidence - summer vacation is just around the corner.

Or, the one where Gerard Argent kidnapped the wrong fucking person to torture. Stiles has never subscribed to the policy of forgiving and forgetting anyway, not when razing the problem to the ground and salting the earth for good measure has always been a far better solution in the long run.

He doesn't expect to have company.

#rec list #teen wolf #steter #stiles stilinski #peter hale #fanfic rec #akielosrises #ask

129 notes · View notes

waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter four rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peter’s greatest love and Spiderman’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

After eating dessert and saying goodbye to May, Peter walked you to your room like a proper gentleman.

“You really don’t have to walk me home. I live right across that hall.” You teased him as you leaned against your door. You were glad he did, though. You wanted to spend every minute you could with him.

“I know, but I wanted to make sure you got in okay.” Peter said shyly. “You never know what dangers can be lurking in a hallway. Henry could’ve been around here and you and your feet would’ve been defenseless. You think I could live with myself if something happened to you?”

You laughed loudly and took your time unlocking your door, partially to extend your time together and partially to hide your massive blush.

“Thanks for dinner, Parker. I had a good time.” You said slowly as you fixed his collar.

“I had a moderately alright time.” He said nonchalantly. You laughed at his joke and shoved him a little.

“Fine. I had an amazing time.” He answered honestly. “We should do this again.”

The hope in his eyes knocked you out.

“Definitely.” You agreed. “But at my place next time.”

“Deal.” He stood there for a moment, just staring at you. You stared back, seeing the pale freckles on his nose and around his eyes. The longer you look at Peter, the better he got.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Peter said finally. You sighed softly and looked him over.

Parting really is such sweet sorrow.

“Goodnight Peter.” You answered. You gave each other one more giggly smile before you closed the door, completely missing the victory dance Peter did in the hallway.

“Alright. You ate. Now it’s our turn. Let’s go eat some assholes.” Venom cheered once you were alone.

“You couldn’t have phrased that in a worse way.” You grimaced as you set your keys down.

“I mean, let’s go eat some men who are assholes.” Venom corrected herself.

“Alright alright. Let’s go.” You walked to the window. “But, they have to be a total asshole. We can’t just eat a dick.”

“And you think what we said was bad? Listen to yourself.” Venom retorted.

“I heard it. I meant we have to eat someone who is really, really bad. Not just some random jerk.” You defended.

“Whatever. Let’s go. Your liver is starting to look really, really juicy.” Venom warned. With that, you climbed out the window and prowled the streets of New York.

It wasn’t long before you found a man harassing a woman near a local bar. They were both tipsy, but she seemed drunker than he was. He kept putting his hands on her, despite her protests. Every time she tried to push him away, he’d only try harder.

“Come on baby.” He purred.

“Leave me alone. I don’t want you.” The woman slurred as she pushed him away.

“Yes you do. You wouldn’t have worn that tight dress if you didn’t.” The man said.

Ah yes, logic.

When she ignored his comment, he angrily pushed her against a wall and covered her mouth.

“Asshole?” Venom asked you.

“Asshole.” You confirmed. You and Venom did your usual tactic. You’d start off as you and kindly ask the gentleman to leave the lady alone. When all else fails, you became Venom and ate the bad guy.

You and Venom weren’t cold blooded killers. If a problem could be solved with words, you would do it that way. But there are a lot of bad men on the streets who don’t take no for an answer.

And you catch bad men.

You tore the man away from the lady and she ran away screaming when she saw you as Venom. Most people do. At least she was safe. The man on the other hand suddenly lost his tough guy stamina and resulted to begging for his life.

“Should we eat them?” Venom asked you, loud enough for the man to hear. You did that little thing when half your face was Venom and half your face was you.

People get a real kick out of it.

“No.” You cooed. “They probably taste terrible.”

The man cowered away, begging you to leave.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again.” He pleaded.

“I never much liked the taste of perverts.” Venom snarled.

“Me either. Plus, he’s so puny. He’s probably disgusting.” You agreed.

You were dragging the man along. He was definitely getting eaten, no doubt about it. At least, there was no doubt, up until you heard the sound of feet landing on the pavement behind you.

“Hey, big guy, didn’t anyone ever tell you that people are friends, not food?” A young, muffled voice sounded. Spider-Mans eyes grew comically wide when Venom turned around.

“What are you?” He gasped. You could hear the terror in his voice. Under his mask, he was probably trembling. He sounded so young and terrified.

“We…are venom.” You answered as you snarled at him.

Never gets old.

“Hi Venom.” Spider-Man took a step back in fear, legs shaking slightly. “I’m Spiderman.”

The man took this as an opportunity to get up and run. You quickly ran after him, but you were suddenly covered in a sticky white substance. It wrapped around your legs and you fell to the ground. From the floor, you could see the man getting away.

“I can’t take credit for that. I got that from this really old movie, The Empire Strikes back. It works every time.” Spider-Man panted as he ran over to you.

You decided you had enough of this and easily broke out of the sticky stuff. You grabbed the unsuspecting Spider-Man by the throat and lifted him up by his neck. You could hear the sounds of him choking through his mask, and looses your grip. You weren’t a monster, but you weren’t a superhero either. Spiderman had let a bad guy get away and you could only hope you scared him enough not to do it again.

“You let him go.” You growled as you got in his face. Spider-Man hit the hand around his throat in an attempt to break free, making Venom smile. His feet were dangling off the ground. He was defenseless.

“You can’t eat people.” He choked out, gasping for air.

“We can and we will.” Venom growled. “Since you let our dinner get away, looks like you’ll have to take his place. We hope you taste better than you look, Spiderman.”

“Please don’t eat me. I’m just a kid.” Spider-Man begged. Venom tried to keep going, but you pulled back.

“Venom, put him down. We can find someone else. We can’t eat this guy. He’s too young.” You said calmly and prayed Venom would listen. Spider-Man was right. He was just a kid. He had pissed you off, but that didn’t mean he had to die.

“We don’t want anyone else. We want him”. Venom answered. Spider-Man looked confused, seeing as he could only hear Venoms part of the conversation.

“Put him down. His suit probably tastes terrible anyway. Let’s go find someone else. How about we go find a smoker to eat? You know how much you love to eat smokers.” You argued as you felt her grip loosen.

“They taste like barbecue.” Venom replied, feeling her mouth watering.

“Let’s go.” You insisted. “He’s not worth it.”

“Fine.” Venom grouched and threw Spider-Man against a wall. Spider-Man began to cough and clutch his throat. Venom stormed over to him and grabbed his head, making him look at you.

“If you ever bother us again, we are going to eat both of your arms, then both of your legs, and then we are going to eat your face. Do you understand?”

“We?” was all Spider-Man could get out.

“We.” Venom repeated. “Me and my girl. She saved your life tonight. Don’t except it to happen again. Next time, you’re dead.” Venom warned. With that, you ran away into the night, leaving Spider-Man behind.

After eating a man you saw steal money out of multiple homeless peoples cups, you climbed up the apartment building and sat on the ledge of the roof. You transformed back into yourself and watched as the sun made its way up the horizon.

“What are you doing up here?” You heard a familiar Queens accent from behind you. You smiled immediately and turned around.

“Are you stalking me Parker?” You teased as a bashful smile broke across his face. He looked ethereal in the early morning sunshine so you bit your tongue to keep from giggling.

He was too damn cute.

“You’ve got it the wrong way around. I lived here first. This had been my spot for years now. You’re the one stalking me.” Peter remarked. His voice sounded horse, like he had strained it. He moved slowly, almost as if he was in pain, as he swung his legs over the ledge and took a seat next to you. Your thighs just barely touched, but enough to send sparks though your body.

“Is this really your spot? I’ll leave if you want.” You offered, but Peter put his hand on your shoulder to keep you from getting up.

“It’s our spot now.” He said matter of factly. The sun light up his profile and you could see how tired his eyes were. You wondered what late night adventures kept Peter Parker awake. Peter stared out into the New York City skyline and sighed with content. A gentle breeze blew his brown locks and ruffled your clothing.

Everything was quiet. Everything was good.

“Are you an orphan?” You blurted before smacking your hand over your mouth.

You almost jumped off the roof right there. And you probably should’ve. No, actually, Peter should’ve pushed you off. It’s what you deserved. Who the HELL asks someone you just met that question? Who asks that question at all? Does anyone even use the term “orphan” anymore? Is this Annie? All these questions swarmed through your head as your cheeks managed to burn the brightest shade of red they ever had. Peter snapped his head to you and tried to say something but you cut him off.

“I only ask because…well, I am.” You admitted. “An orphan, I mean. And I saw the pictures in your apartment with the candle and you kinda have that…orphan look to you. No offense! It’s not a bad thing either. I probably have the same look. Plus, you live with your aunt and I didn’t see anyone else come home. Of course, maybe they just weren’t home the one night I was over. Not that it’s any of my business anyway. I’m sorry I asked. It was a dumb, dumb question and I’m a dumb, dumb person and I-“

Your excessive rambling was cut off by a soft chuckles on Peters part. You looked at him confused as it wasn’t the response you expected.

“You’re not dumb. You took down Carlton Drake at 19 years old with no help. I wouldn’t call that person dumb. I’d call her brave, smart, even heroic.” Peter complimented you. “And all the best heroes are orphans. So to answer your question…there was a question in there somewhere right? I think so. Yes, I am an orphan. I live with my Aunt May. I used to live with my Uncle Ben too but he passed away.”

“Your uncle was Ben Parker.” You realized. “I should’ve known. May mentioned his name at dinner. I remember hearing about the shooting. All my friends and I created a club in school to protest the lack of gun regulation in America after that. I’m so sorry, Peter.”

“I really appreciate you doing that. I’m really upset over the lack of gun regulation too.” He was quiet for a moment. “My Uncle Ben used to write too. He was always trying to get me to write for the school newspaper. It wasn’t my thing though. I prefer taking pictures and videos. You’re a really good writer, Y/N. My Uncle Ben would’ve loved you.” Peter said earnestly. You smiled at Peter and scooted closer to him.

“Thank you for saying that. I bet I would’ve loved him too.” You told him. Peter looked down at his hands which were dangerously close to yours. You weren’t bold enough to hold his hand, though you desperately wanted to. Instead, you put your head on his shoulder and looked out at the sunrise. It was a simple, innocent gesture. You were both awkward and knew it. It was the safest thing you could do without something going terribly wrong. Peter rested his head on top of yours and sighed.

“I didn’t know you were an orphan.” He said softly, not wanting to disturb the peace. You nodded, still nestled in his neck.

“My mom died a few minutes after giving birth to me.” You opened up to him, something you hadn’t done with anyone before. “I’m not sure what went wrong but they had to do an emergency C-section. I survived, but she didn’t.”

You got quiet for a moment.

“She never even got to hold me.”

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Peter whispered. He gingerly laced his fingers with yours. You watched as he did it and didn’t try to stop him.

“It’s weird.” You shrugged. “I never knew her, but I miss her everyday. I wish we could’ve had a conversation. Just one would be enough.” Your mom wasn’t something you often talked about. It was too painful to relive the past so you hadn’t even told Andy the full story.

But you felt safe with Peter.

“You don’t have to have known her to miss her.” Peter insisted. “I bet she misses you too and she never met you either.”

“What were your parents names?” You changed the topic as you rubbed his hand softly with your thumb.

“Richard And Mary. Richard and Mary Parker.” He answered proudly. “I write them letters all the time. I put them in an envelope and everything. Then I put them in a box in my closet. I like to think the read them.”

“I bet they do.” You told him while squeezing his hand gently. In that moment, you could’ve sworn he was yours. Like you were an actual couple that had been through hell and back together. Like you’d know him all my life. Peter looked you in the eyes and for the first time, someone really saw you.

The real you, and he didn’t turn away. His brown eyes stared right down into your soul. You felt insecure suddenly, your soul wasn’t a pretty place to see. Certainly not pretty enough for Peter Parker. But Peter didn’t seem to mind.

You got this feeling all the sudden, this feeling that told you you and Peter were meant to meet. That you were always meant to be in each other’s lives. To protect and love each other, like real people do. Peter didn’t feel like a stranger. He wasn’t someone you met on accident. You were destined to be. Just be. No matter what you were. This rooftop didn’t feel like a place you’d never been before. This rooftop felt like home. And Peter made it feel that way. Or maybe it wasn’t the rooftop that felt like home, it was just Peter. Your cheeks burned up when you realized what was happening. Your heart fluttered and your lungs felt like they were in fire.

You knew it. Every fiber of your being knew it. All your senses came alive at once and in that moment, on that rooftop, your heart looked into Peters and said those two words,

“Welcome home”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x venom!reader #venom!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #iron man #tom holland fanfiction

554 notes · View notes