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crosswise101 · 13 days

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"Minor possessive talk, mostly he's just a clingy loser" on the Cove drabble got me so good -- could you maybe do something similar for Derek and Baxter?!

Crazy about your writing, tysm for sharing!!!!

Synopsis: Baxter's life is perfectly, aesthetically crafted. Until it isn't. NSFW drabble.

: ̗̀➛ Featured Characters: Baxter Ward x Gn!Reader

̗̀➛ Content Warnings: NSFW, slight possessive language, very very brief angst (i mean, it is baxter)

̗̀➛ Additional notes: Continuing my loser men agenda with Baxter! I will write a separate post for Derek soon, but finishing two things in a row has me antsy to post this one separately. Theres bottom!Baxter if you squint, but i tried to write him as a switch so take it either direction as you will. Mostly he's just a loser who makes sex way too romantic. I love him.

Baxter wouldn't deign to call himself clingy. He was incredibly independent, really. Your relationship had taken a five year break and survived, he was perfectly content by himself.

But that didn't explain the sick thrill he gets having a clingy partner. There is something so delightfully addicting about being wanted. He loved it when he woke up to you wrapped around him, heart thundering when you burrowed closer at even the slightest twitch of movement, like you were scared he'd disappear.

That was where the thread of guilt came in. Of course you had clingy moments, he'd vanished from your life once, could you really trust him not to do it again? What did his word matter, ultimately?

It was hard not to think like that. He knew his own track record with relationships, and he wanted, more then anything, to not fuck up this one too.

It's never easy to chase those thoughts away. And yet you do it so effortlessly, with just the graze of your teeth, the scrape of your nails.

Baxter is putty in your hands when you mark him up during sex. He's obsessed with the way his pale skin looks after its been ravaged by you, admiring the scratch-marks down his back after he's fucked you, or the hickies and love-bites you've scattered across his chest. He'd let you ruin his neck with sweet bruises if it wasn't shockingly unprofessional.

I mean hickies on the wedding planner, on someone else's big day? He feels a shameful tingle of pleasure he can't deny at the thought. Baxter is so put together during the day that he absolutely falls apart at night, guided by your safe and sure hands. He cries, he begs, he sniffles as big, wet tears fill his red eyes. There was some alarm, the first time he cried during sex. The whole ordeal had been put on hold to make sure he was okay, until he'd shamefully and slowly explained to you that yes, he was perfectly fine. So, so good in fact, the tears had sprouted on an especially breathy moan.

And even though he begs so sweetly to leave your mark sometimes you handle him so tenderly and gently it sparks a whole different kind of need inside him. Love-making, he thinks, with his head nestled between you thighs, moaning with every tug of his hair, is a new world of pleasure. Miles beyond just sex.

But his favorite part of it all is the minutes just after. When he stumbles out of your arms to gleefully assess the damage, take in his tear-stained face, the pink hand prints on his hips and ass, his kissed swollen lips. The sight of it all has his spent cock twitching awake.

Just a little more, he thinks, stumbling back over to you. God his legs ache in just the best way. He's already hard again, cum beading at the tip without a care for his carefully crafted, elegant persona.

He pulls you into another kiss, sweet still, before nipping playfully at your ear.

"You've positively ruined me, dear." He purrs, a shiver of glee running through him as your hands find his hips again. "Want to do it again?"

#baxter ward #our life baxter #baxter x reader #I LOVE HIM SM #I CANT HES SO PRECIOUS ARGHHHHHHH #i just love seeing pretty men cry im sorry 😭#LIVE LAUGH LOVE BAXTER THO!!!!

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crosswise101 · 13 days

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Daily meme Boothill✋

#YEEHAWWWWW #DONT MIND IF I DO 😍😍😍😍#boothill #hsr boothill #boothill beloved

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crosswise101 · 15 days

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❝GIDDY UP & GO!!... ❞

word count: 3.3k

warnings: subbot! male reader, domtop! boothill, genitals are not explicitly mentioned, grinding, no actual penetration, unnecessary descriptions how much there is of spit (sorry if ur not into that), predator/prey if u squint, nd gunplay if u squint really really hard (is implied), lots of pentnames, praise, save a horse ride a cowboy but I change a factor, cowboy hat rule because RRGHGHGRHRGHHGHGHG

prompt: boothill has made it his life mission to cash in the money he gets when he lands you behind bars. however, when it becomes apparent as to why you let him pursue you, he begins to chase you for an entirely different reason

notes: lost 50/50 to yanqing (he's still my kid nd I love him regardless YANQING HATERS LEAVE!!!!) when wishing for aventurine. now I'm pulling for boothill if I don't get my little gambler (if Sunday is playable and better than boothill then im sorry to my fav cowboy yeehaw) not beta read

fem aligned dni

“Oh, my.”

Boothill hates your guts. That’s a given.

He hates the way you carry yourself, the sly remarks you’ll make if you spot even one hint of insecurity, the slight draw on certain syllables to give a mocking tone- you, in general. Although he’s more on the bothering side than the bothered, you’re just so much more annoying than he thought even possible. Guess that’s why you’re known as a high-end bandit.

He’s been on your tail for weeks, chasing any leads (a lot of them, like you wanted the chase) he could get his hands on. He’s even seen you slinking around taverns, poker tables, run-down hotels- for fucks’ sake, even on horseback racing down a dirt path while attempting to rob a moving train. To feel the satisfaction of seeing the credits Boothill would obtain after putting you behind bars is all he wants to experience because this is just getting ridiculous.

So, why the hell now, is he bound up to the ceiling with chains thicker than his own ankle after finding your base?

The amused smile finds its way upon your lips and Boothill wants to do nothing more than to kick it right off. You were in a vulnerable position before he decided to sneak in, with your chair tipped as your feet were kicked up on a busted wooden table, a bandana resting over your eyes to block out the sunlight that dared to drift into the room. Boothill made the dumbest mistake by alerting you of his presence through triggering a well hidden trip-wire. Perking you up, you began to rise from your seat, swiftly removing the bandana from your eyes and fingers instinctively on the handle of your revolver that sat on the gun holster strapped to your thigh. The trap triggered so fast, Boothill’s sensors barely had time to react to it before the ‘snap!’s and ‘crack!’s echoed throughout the room and he was pressed against the ceiling within seconds.

Sharp glares were stabbing through your form as your hand rested on your hip as you whistled, looking up at the ranger in slight surprise and smugness. Aeons, he hated you.

“Wow, such a reckless move to jus’ prance yer way in here, no? Hey, aren't cha a Galaxy Ranger or somethin’?” You tease, swiveling your chair so that you could sit backwards on it, crossing your arms atop of the back rest so you could rest your chin on your forearms, “Surely, ya coulda suspected that I woulda set up a trap. But why waste all yer precious time on someone as measly as me? I ain’t nothin’ but a lil’ ol’ bandit.”

“You better seal yer pretty lil’ lips, doll.” Boothill hisses at you, his voicebank glitching to censor the words he so desperately wanted to say, “My bullets don’t take too kindly to sweet talkers n’ foxes.”

A laugh echoes throughout the falling apart structure then settles into a hum as you stand up and kick the chair against the wall, “Ya sure like to talk big. Kinda fits ya, though.” The chair slams right under Boothill and you slowly make your way towards it, the clinking of spurs on your boots highlighting every step you take.

Looking up at the suspended robot, your left foot raises and rests on the seat, leaning in to provoke the cyborg even further, “It’s kinda cute how ya keep pursuin’ me despite all these failed attempts. How ‘bout I give ya more of a reason to keep chasin’ me than only doin’ it for jus’ the credits?”

Boothill’s eyebrows creased in suspicion as your hand raises up to his face, contemplating just biting your fingers straight off until he hears the click of the safety and a metal barrel against the human skin of his jaw. His teeth clench in anger as you nearly laugh at his compliance, reaching above his head and snatching his hat right off.

Oh, he was going to kill you for sure-

The hat plops onto your head and you wink at him while sticking your tongue out.

What.

There wasn’t-

There was no way.

“Catch me if ya can, cowboy.” You say dismissively, briskly turning around and walking out of the rundown hideout. However, before you could get out of his line of sight, your head turned to face him and you said, “I’ll be waitin’. As always.”

Dumbfounded and a half an hour later collapsed on the floor from the wooden boards snapping- which loosened the chains, he replays that minute over and over again. He didn’t want to believe that had actually happened but his memory told him otherwise.

There was no way that you...

Whatever. He’ll think about it later. He needs to get his damn hat back.

The first time Boothill finds you, it’s in a more forest-y area. You’re on your trusty steed, talking to some other criminals with little interest. The cowboy watches the interaction, paying special attention to your reactions to see if you’ve noticed his presence. From what he could tell, you didn’t seem to see that he was watching while using the shrubbery to cover him and the horse he was on. The people you were talking to he recognized from some wanted posters, only worth some credits. Not as much as your bounty, though.

...

...You’re still wearing his hat.

“Look, partner,” Your voice dips into an exhausted, low, sigh, “I need that shipment as soon as possible, ya hear? I ain’t got too much time left before she’s reached her time. Ion care how ya get it, I need it in at least a week! Otherwise she’ll get real snappy and I’m gonna hafta put some lead in some poor person's head.”

One of the bandits flashes a worried look to another, “Boss, ya don’t understand! The Xianshou Luofu’s been havin’ sum sorta delay! We ain’t gonna get those packages ‘til some long period of time!”

Boothill’s interest peaks as you begin to snap, “Did ya not hear me? I said, ‘Ion care how ya get them!’ Find a way! Talk to that Trailblazer everyone’s been praisin’ about or somethin’! Jus’ get me my stuff before ‘m gonna start blowin’ some brains out-”

A rustle causes you to pause your sentence as you draw your weapon immediately, the barrel facing his direction and bullets fly. Boothill’s horse had begun to munch on the bush, which gave away his position, but thankfully he moved quick enough to get out of the way.

You decided to book it when you caught sight of the familiar white and black hair, spurs hitting the sides of your horse as you begin to get out of the area to leave nothing but a trail of dust. Boothill doesn’t hesitate to race after you, whipping the reins of his horse to get her going.

Branches and twigs tug at Boothill’s hair as he chases you through the forest, lowering his torso so that he could lessen the wind resistance as his horse’s hooves slam against the ground. You’re quite the distance away, mostly because your horse is pretty speedy. It’s how you get away from crime scenes so fast. However, Nellie, the horse Boothill is riding currently, is also quite fast.

Although, not fast enough because in the end, he still loses you.

The curses he spits all get censored immediately as he slows into a stop, head turning in every direction to see if you left any trail behind. Only to see none. Didn’t expect as much from a skilled criminal.

The second time he spots you is in the tavern, playing a game of poker with people that had their pockets stuffed full of cash. ‘Rich folk,’ Boothill grimaces as he could see them tilt their chin up like the world owes them something. If you rob them, he won’t feel even a sliver of remorse.

He knows that you can see him as he leans against the wall to watch the match, some of the rich getting intensively frustrated as they begin to fold after betting so high. Judging by the scheming smile on your face, he could tell you have a winning hand. Then again, when are you never smiling like you have something up your sleeve?

Finally, in the showdown, you and the person you’re going up against reveal your cards and you win with a four of a kind. Lucky.

The people at the table groan and push their chips in your direction, getting up to leave as their attitudes have just been soured over that singular match. Boothill takes the opportunity to walk over to you and remove the gun from his holster and press it right up against your lower back, hand coming up to snatch his hat that rests atop your head.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

A window shatters behind him and he could hear flames begin to roar but he doesn’t dare tear his eyes away from you. Only when he feels cold metal press against the nape of his neck does his actions falter and his eyes turn to face whoever decided to draw their weapon.

He blinks in shock to see a figure completely made of water, his gaze returning to you and seeing you sitting on the edge of the table with your gun pressed against his forehead. Shit. He’s lost again.

The tavern completely surrenders to the flames as people scream at the sight of fire, swallowing up the alcohol and wood. Boothill can hear his fans whirring to prevent himself from overheating but the attempt is futile as the room begins to get unbearably hot. He’s not sure if it’s just the fire that’s causing him to overheat or it’s because you look insanely good with all this red and orange light.

...

What is he even thinking right now?

“Y’know, it’s gettin’ real fun toyin’ with ya, cowboy.” You speak, completely unbothered by all the heat in the building. He can’t even see a single drop of sweat on your face. Even so, you continue, “But I think ya can do a little better than this.”

The ranger’s lips purse in offense, glaring at you as best as he could. The gun you had pointed lazily at his forehead falls to the floor and Boothill isn’t sure how long he can last in this heat. Before his system could finally shut down because of overheating, he could feel your lips press against the area where your gun was pressed up against. Then, he falls over as his system forcibly turns him off.

The third time Boothill sees you, he’s lying on a metal workbench with cold water floating above him and fans blowing in his direction. He’s confused, obviously, and on his toes as he realizes he’s not in an area he’s not familiar with. He attempts to sit up to find a way to escape only to realize that he can’t move his arm. Now, he’s terrified.

“Relax, cowboy.” Your voice coos from behind a computer, typing away at something as you're taking a tip from a glass. Presumably water. “I’m cooling ya off. You’re welcome... You should be able to move now.”

Boothill shoots up from his spot and rips off the cables that are attached to his left arm, head darting around to look for his gun. He hears a click and once again finds himself with a gun pressed up against his jaw.

“Lookin’ for this?”

The crosshair that replaces his once human pupils flit over to your direction, noticing that you were holding his revolver in your dominant hand. Boothill swears that you must like pointing a barrel in his direction for how many times this has been done. He also sees that you’re wearing his very cropped jacket over your usual attire. ... And you’re still wearing his hat.

“That’s mine, pretty boy.” The ranger gives you a half-assed growl as his censor kicks in once more, already getting annoyed at your sly behaviour, “Ya really got a knack for takin’ stuff that’s not yours, huh? No wonder yer a criminal.”

You giggle at his words, tossing his gun on the metal workbench, “It’s not loaded, neither is your little gun hand.” You tell him, like he was going to start unloading mags into your skin. Turning around, you walk back to your computer and open up a drawer on the desk it sits on, “Well?” You ask after a momentary silence, leaning on one of your legs as you crack open a bottle of whiskey and begin to pour it into your empty glass.

“‘Well’, what?” Boothill narrows his eyes at you, picking up his revolver and shoving it back into his thigh holster. He’ll just have to go to the nearest mechant and buy more bullets.

“Ain’t ya gonna, I don’t know, take yer hat back?” You ask him, taking a sip of the alcohol that gives a slight burn down your throat, “We’re in an enclosed space, barely any room t’move around, exit’s right behind ya ‘n all. Perfect chance t’arrest me, if I dare so say m’self.”

He blinks. There’s got to be some sort of trap if the setup is this perfect. He’s not going to make the same mistake he did before, not again. So, his sensors scan the room quickly, which leaves you unamused, and he sees that there are in fact no traps in this room. Boothill almost doesn’t want to believe it.

“Are ya playin’ some sort of game with me?” Boothill’s eyes begin to squint in suspicion, carefully trying to think of a situation you might pull that puts him on the losing end of the stick, “Yer jus’ gonna let yourself get arrested? Jus’ like that?”

“What? Ya don’t wanna do it? Too scared?” You taunt him again, causing the cowboy’s circuits to boil in animosity.

“Ya know what?” Boothill smiles a tense one, taking long, menacing steps in your direction, “I’ve ‘bout had it with your attitude, pretty boy. Seems like ya didn’t have anybody ta teach ya proper manners.” All of a sudden, you felt yourself being slammed up against the wall behind you with a grunt, Boothill’s right hand keeping your wrists together and his left hand tilting your chin up to look at him, his eyes glowing a dangerous red, “I mean, after that stunt ya pulled in yer lil’ base, it seems like ya wanna be caught by me.”

“Hah.. guilty as charged.” You laugh, attempting to keep your smooth facade up, only for it to crack once you could feel his metal knee nudge between your thighs. A whine rips through your throat as he keeps his knee still, not bothering to give you the pleasure you oh so wanted from the day you saw him.

“How ‘bout it, doll?” Boothill sneers at your pathetic expression, lips getting dangerously close to yours, “I can give ya a better punishment than jail could.”

One thing’s for sure: Boothill’s mechanical body does not have any built in... pleasure devices, he’s nearly as smooth as a doll. However, there is a slightly large bump on his pelvis in the shape of an oval that if you were to grind just right up against, you’ll-

“O-oh!”

Boothill’s lips curve up into a smirk as he sees you push down hard against his metallic form, trying to settle your trembles by wrapping your arms tightly around his neck to stabilize yourself. It’s cute, he thinks, seeing you all desperate for sexual relief. The way you hopelessly cling to him like he’s the last thing keeping you alive. He can’t believe he actually thought about putting you behind bars if getting you wrapped around his finger was this satisfying.

“How’s it feel, pretty boy?” Boothill whispers in your ear, causing a shiver to rack your spine as his grip adjusts to settle on your lower waist, pushing you even further against him, “Feel like yer gonna explode yet?”

Whimpering in response, your shaky fingertips grip onto his shoulders as your forehead now presses against his. Soft pants fill the room and Boothill can practically see the hearts in your eyes as your hips continue to move against his. You both still have your clothes on but this all still feels so intimate, probably better than actual penetration.

The ranger’s hand reaches up to tug his hat that still rests on your head, fixing it back from its tilted state, “Ya look like ya wanna kiss, doll.” He teases, bringing your chin closer to the point where your noses brushed up against one another.

“Pl-please..” You say breathily, gently tugging at his hair.

“Attaboy.” Boothill snickers in response, “Looks like yer finally learning.” His freakishly long tongue slithers past his lips as soon as they press against yours, slipping into your mouth as saliva begins to spill down your chin. Aeons, you’re just so cute.

Soft moans are swallowed up by Boothill’s greedy mouth, his thumb coming up to pull against your bottom lip before he pulls away and the only thing that connects your mouths is the thin trail of spit. His robotic thumb pushes into your mouth, pressing against your tongue as drool continues to spill down your pretty lips. He could get used to this.

He notices how much faster your hips move, calculating that you were close as whines and whimpers flood the room. The smile on Boothill’s face only widens even further, bumping his hips up to catch you off guard. He knows he succeeds when he hears a shaky squeak come from your mouth.

“What’s wrong, pretty boy? Ya gonna bust?” The ranger sneers, the thumb in your mouth shifting so he widens your lips by pushing at the sides, “Y’know, I could easily deny ya of that relief. Ya kinda deserve it for teasin’ me this whole time.”

You shake your head violently, already too close to be pulled away now. Boothill snickers in response, “No? What makes ya think you can tell me what to do?” A pleading look flashes across your features and Boothill has half the decency to make you beg for release. He decides to have mercy on you, though, “Mmmn, I mean, I guess ya have been pretty obedient. Go on and blow yer load f’me, pretty.”

With a shudder and a slight bite on Boothill’s metal thumb, your pants get soaked in your fluids, staining the fabric. Your hips jerk a couple of times to ride out your orgasm then you started slumping onto his chest in exhaustion. Boothill’s other hand rubs at your hip to soothe you, letting you rest in place to calm the trembles that still cause your body to twitch in overstimulation.

“Good boy.” He says softly, pulling his thumb out of your mouth, watching as it dripped since it was slick with your spit. Letting you catch your breath for a moment, he waits before he decides to ask, “So, what package were ya waitin’ for?”

“Baby stuff.” You sigh, face burying into Boothill’s neck, “My sister’s expecting ‘nd her wife’s been tellin’ me to get that stuff as soon as possible. The Luofu has been delaying their packages for a bit, somethin’ about shippin’ difficulties. Can’t believe ya’d remember something like that, though.”

The cowboy huffs in response, “Bein’ a cyborg’s got some perks. The only bad part is that ion got a dick to fuck ya with. Woulda been nice to see ya unable to walk for a few days.”

You sit up and give him a weird look, hands resting on his shoulders, “Ya do know strap-ons exist, right?” The way you said that made him feel much stupider, like you were pointing out the obvious to him.

“...Oh.” Boothill’s face flushes embarrassingly hot as his fans kick in once more.

Aeons, he hated you.

#YUMMY #boothill x male reader #IWANTHIMPLSSS #IM SO DESPERATE #ARGGGHHHH NO WORDS COULD DESCRIBE HOW MUCH I WANT THIS CYBORG #ARCHING MY BACK FOR HIM FR

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crosswise101 · 6 months

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A book crystallized in the ocean

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crosswise101 · 6 months

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Demon bull family with loyal angry cleaner

(sorry if this is shorter than you expected)

You have worked with the bull family for years and they find you well suited for your job and a little entertaining.

Princess IronFan has quite the laugh whenever you snap at the other servants or even bull clones whenever they track mud inside especially when you've just cleaned.

At some point you've become close to the family they consider you somewhat family perhaps that's why you haven't gotten set on fire by Redson whenever you lecture him about the ash and soot he tracks around.

Demon bull king says he isn't scared of your lectures but he once broke a vase you carefully polished and immediately put the blame on a completely innocent bull clone knowing it couldn't say anything to defend itself.

Unfortunately for DBK he still gets a few lectures funny enough one of them wasn't his fault when princess IronFan teleported to one of the halls her wind knocked down a painting that caused a chain reaction and knocked down multiple she walked away and DBK ended up checking out what happened and you saw him surrounded by fallen over paintings unfortunately he was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.

When Mk, Mei and Sandy showed up at the house Redson absolutely enjoyed you chewing them out on the messes they made he was encouraging you to make them clean instead.

You are well taken care of though and the family pay you quite a lot for your work.

Sometimes you aid Redson in the kitchen since if he gets impatient he would use his fire to cook the meal which does get the job done he does have a very impressive amount of control to his flames he just burns the surroundings so to save yourself a cleanup you help him out.

#lmk x reader #monkie kid x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #love this silly shit #y/n is so me tho #🙏🙏🙏🙏

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crosswise101 · 7 months

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Pankcakes and cuddles

A short Red Son x GN!Reader fic :3 (also note that I'm not used to writing fanfiction so this one might suck)

════════▣◎▣════════

It was a new break of dawn when you decided to lock him in your arms possessively as you snuggled into his chest, he was supposed to make breakfast for both of you but it ended up in a never ending cuddling session in the comforts of your own bed.

"Let go of me you insolent gremlin... I have to cook breakfast so you won't starve to death..." Red Son muttered irritably as he tried to push you away, but you just won't budge.

"Nooooo I want my daily dose of cuddles though," You whined as you push yourself unto Red Son futher, looking up to his gaze with puppy dog eyes hoping that he would fall for it.

"We've been cuddling for half and hour now." He deadpanned, completely ignoring your effort to make him stay with you in bed.

"...Doesn't matter I want you." You said, stubborn against the idea of Red Son leaving for something that is totally not important.

"W-why you little- ugh!" He groaned, you could tell that you left him flustered because of your words by him just stumbling upon his words.

"I'll just be in the kitchen if you need me..." Red son muttered off before gently pushing you off of him completely this time. Though it was surprisingly easy, this made you wonder why he didn't just push you away earlier.

He climb off the bed and went out of your room, now it's just you alone.

"Noooo It's too cold, come back my personal heaterrr" You whined some more as you flail the covers of your bed, you were never a morning person to begin with. You caught yourself staring at the ceiling of your room afterwards, still not planning on abandoning your comfortable bed.

Though that beg to differ when you smelled freshly made pancakes from your kitchen, fuck. You groggily stood up from your bed as you set off to consume those remarkable scrumptious pancakes.

You peaked from the side of the door that leads to the kitchen, the first thing you notice that Red Son was in an apron, the pink one that you bought for the giggles that is.

"So the little gremlin decided to leave their territory." Red Son said with a small smirk, despite facing back from you and being preoccupied with the pancakes he still could feel the chaotic energy radiating from you.

You chuckled at that his remark before walking towards the stack of pancakes that Red Son had taken away from the hot frying pan, your eyes dazzling as you were practically drooling because how perfect the pancakes looked.

"Don't think about touching those, I'm still not done with this batch." Red Son bluntly said which made you pout.

"Awee, maybe just a little nibble?" You practically begged as you eyed him and the pancakes that as placed in front of you at the same time.

"No."

"Someone has to eventually do the taste check so-"

"Don't you dare think about it."

"Oh but I am."

"Don't-"

Before Red Son could ever stop you, you took a small piece from one of the pancakes with a fork and quickly consumed it. His expression dropped completely as he watches you happily chew his pancakes.

"These are really good!" You complimented with a big goofy smile on your face.

"For the love of- Augh fine go gobble them up for all I care." He said with a huff went back to flip the pancakes that was still on the pan, though he couldn't help but feel the warm tingling sensation in his heart when you complimented about his cooking.

You look at him for a moment before an idea popped into your mind, you took another piece of one of the pancakes you had just now and placed it in your mouth, you tapped on Red son's shoulders to grab his attention.

"What is it now? If you're looking for the maple syrup it's in the fridge- Hmmp-!" He froze in place as you suddenly went in for a kiss, he could taste the sweetness of the pancakes from your lips. His face was set ablaze and his fiery tied up hair flickered though he did nothing to push you away.

The kiss was short as you pulled away, smiling at him innocently as if you didn't do anything to possibly cause him a heart attack.

"The pancakes were sweet no? though would've gone great with maple syrup..."

"I-I- Wha- W-Whydidyou-"

"Oh, Firecrack your pancakes are burning."

"H-HUH?!"

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crosswise101 · 1 year

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THIS IS SO WHOLESOME WAHHHHHHHHHHH 😭😭😭😭💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

What about Red Son reacting to the reader being LBD's host and the aftermath?

Redson x LBD host!gn!reader + aftermath Headcanons (romantic??)

Okay so this boy will be stressed out of their mind. First his father has to play host(which was scary enough) and now one of the VERY few people he cares about has to do it too??? WHY CAN'T THEY HAVE ANYTHING THESE DAYS

You're at stake. That's plenty of motivation to want to team up with the Monkie Gang a little faster.

I Headcanon that those under LBD's control are aware of what they're doing--since when Wukong got possessed he moved as if it was a struggle. So you're forced to do all these terrible things because LBD needs a vessel and you're a good fit.

You see Redson fighting, fighting for you, fighting for their parents. And you feel helpless because it's not your fault she's so powerful, you don't want to hurt anyone, especially not Redson

The main battle happens, and you're yeeted away from her control. You're super weak from what little fighting against her you were able to do, but the last thing you see before passing out is Redson.

When you wake up, you're on Flower Fruit with all the others, post-battle. You're laying on the ground with something draped over you....it's Redson's jacket :D

He sees you're awake and immediately starts asking you how you are, do you need anything, are you in pain, etc

You're kinda amazed he's being this nice, especially in front of the others.

"Red." "I--yes?" "Relax." "yup you got it."

He's extra mindful of you for a bit. They let you sleep at their place, they send you with runes for protection whenever you're on your own, and perhaps the best privilege is getting his soft side.

Yeah, 10/10 :]]

#lego monkie kid #redson monkie kid #headcanons #this is so wholesome #wtf #crying screaming shitting throwing up

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crosswise101 · 1 year

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forgot to post this here oops

#lmk red son #red son x reader #lego monkie kid #AAAAAAAAAAAAAA #HES SO ADORABLE WHAT #HES VERY BI INDEED

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crosswise101 · 1 year

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𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 ♡ 𝘙𝘦𝘥 𝘚𝘰𝘯

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❥ SUMMARY:

Even after getting together, Red Son still acts like he isn't with you and is still in fact crushing on you.

❥ WARNINGS: Short, and might be OOC? Idk this is my first time ever writing them please spare me.

[I literally love this show and her so much it makes my heart explode god damn. I'm also in desperate need of more Red Son content so I did the job myself]

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It was silly really.

Silly how even after you’ve both become official, Red Son would still act as if he was still crushing on you like before you both started dating.

You could easily tell as you could remember every single thing he would do back then and still continues to.

You'd be talking and you'd shortly notice the way that whenever you’d catch him staring at you dreamily from the corner of your shimmering eyes he’d immediately snap out of his daydreams and look away with a flushed face. This same thing would happen when he'd admire you from a distance.

How whenever you gave him physical affection such as hugging him he’d stiffen up like a wooden plank and ignore the way his stomach twisted into multiple knots. How he’d avert his eyes to look at anywhere but your warm, teethy and endearing smile;

Oh that ever so dear smile he adored so much. Red Son felt like putty in your hands just by seeing it.

Just by speaking to you it still made him as if his mouth was sewn shut with a needle and thread. He would fumbled over his words and fake some coughs to think of how to respond to what you might’ve said or asked as he feels his throat dry and form a pit. He felt so embarrassed that he couldn't even form a proper sentence around you!

He strongly believed that if he stared into your eyes for longer than 5 seconds he’d surely burn from your gaze…and he was a fire demon for heaven’s sake! How did that make any sense?! It made him feel so dumb! Dumbly in love because of you!

Red Son would still try to hide his giddy smile whenever you’d compliment him on the slightest thing whether it be about him or his achievements. Denying the fact that there were small sparks of fire that ignited in the tips of his bright red hair.

Talking to himself and planning out what he’d say before you arrived, making sure that the conversations went smoothly and that he wouldn’t end up saying some cheesy, rom-com worthy sentence.

He’d still spend the time fixing his hair, straightening his posture so he stood there confidently then brushing the specks of dust off his clothes with his hands, and checking to see if his breath didn’t reek of an unpleasant odor before popping a mint or two into his mouth as he waited for you to arrive to meet up with him for hang outs, or well..now dates.

How whenever you approach him, gleaming brighter than the sun he’d still get shy and awkwardly wave back at you as you greeted him.

Even sending him the simplest text while you were away and asking about his well being or a simple ‘I love you,’ would send him into a giggling fit, making him twirl his hair and kick his feet. Of course only where no one could see him, he'd actually never hear the end of it if someone had caught him acting such a way only a middle school girl would.

So now here you were at his workshop, listening to him as he spoke so happily and proudly about his newest invention. You would ask him questions about stuff he created that he'd happily answer without a second of hesitation as you praised him with such sweet and honey laced words.

And just like that without even trying, your magical abilities on him happened as sparks of his hair would ignite in a flaming glow and his cheeks would be dusted with a brilliant pink.

At this reaction you only smiled at him just like you always did, that same tooth rotting sweet smile.

All of this was so silly that it was adorable.

He was adorable.

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#reblog #writing #redson lmk #DIJSJKL THIS IS SO FUCKING ADORABLE??????#I LOVE HIM SM #CRYING #KICKING MY LEGS #TWIRLING MY HAIR RN #HES SUCH A SILLY DEMON WAHHHH

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