#and he sees that in sunday and wants to help him out of it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

novascharms · 1 day ago

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teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe

reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track.

word count — 4.3 chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. masterlist

a.n — AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH

eleven

sunday, february 9th

you'd read and re-read the stoichiometry chapter in your chemistry book so many times the words had started to blur together. no matter how hard you tried to concentrate, the first sentence refused to stick, so you read it again. and again. the mole-to-mole relationships in chemical equations couldn’t do what you so desperately wanted them to: distract you from your laptop sitting smugly on the corner of your desk, mocking you with its silence.

you glanced at the screen for the hundredth time.

still no response.

your chest tightened, frustration bubbling under your skin. you'd never wanted to scratch your own eyes out more than you did right now. your gaze shifted to the blue pen rafe had given you, lying idle next to your notebook. he’d handed it to you after you’d casually mentioned trying to stop chewing on pens. it was one of those novelty pens with a fluffy pom-pom at the end—a ridiculous detail, but it worked. you hadn’t bitten a pen in days.

you sighed, pressing your forehead to the cool surface of your desk. the frustration and restlessness were unbearable. "just get it together. focus. focus, y/n," you whispered, willing yourself to snap out of it.

"what are you doing?"

the sudden voice made your heart leap into your throat. you jolted upright, instinctively grabbing the first thing within reach—a pack of sticky notes—and hurling it toward the intruder.

your sister's stupidly athletic self ducked effortlessly, a bemused look on her face as the sticky notes fluttered harmlessly to the floor. "don't scare me like that," you scolded, your voice stern, though your pulse was still racing.

"relax," she said, rolling her eyes. "mom said you need to help her and rafe unload the groceries."

you froze. rafe? you blinked, sure you’d misheard. "wait, what did you just say?"

but she was already turning away, her athletic frame disappearing down the hall before you could get any clarification.

you shot out of your chair, heart thudding as you hurried after her. she darted down the stairs and into her room, slamming the door behind her, leaving you to descend the stairs alone. with each step, the sound of laughter drifted closer, unmistakably rafe’s—deep, warm, and contagious.

your stomach twisted. your nerves were already frayed, and now they were shot through with the sharp edge of memory. friday’s argument lingered, unresolved and heavy. you’d both walked out of that classroom unsatisfied—him with no answers about what happened at the bonfire, and you still clueless about the black eye he refused to explain. his silence afterward, ignoring your text all day, had only solidified your belief that he was done talking to you.

and yet… here he was.

you stopped in the hallway, your breath catching as you caught sight of him. standing in the kitchen with your mom, rafe moved around like he belonged there, putting dishes away with an ease that almost felt intentional.

your eyes locked on him as he reached for the cabinet, your favorite mug in his hand. something about seeing it there, his long fingers gripping the familiar ceramic, made your chest tighten in a way you couldn’t explain.

you lingered, frozen in place, unsure of whether to walk in or turn back. the kitchen was only a few steps away, but it suddenly felt like miles.

"ah, there you are, sweetie! look who i ran into at the farmer's market!" your mom's voice carried a cheerful lilt as she gestured toward rafe, her grin wide. he turned at the mention of you, his movements calm, but his eyes sharp as they settled on your face. "i came on foot, and he was kind enough to offer me a ride," she continued, her voice full of appreciation that almost made you laugh. for someone you'd barely been able to figure out, it seemed rafe had won your mom over in no time.

he closed the cabinet with a soft thud, his gaze falling on you again, drifting down your frame. you caught the flicker of amusement in his expression as his eyes lingered on your legs, bare except for the well-worn university hoodie your dad had given you and a pair of shorts. his scrutiny was quiet but obvious, and it made your skin prickle, though you couldn’t quite decide if it was irritation or something else entirely.

and there it was—the reason you couldn't get past the bonfire, the reason even standing in the same room as him sometimes felt unbearable. it wasn’t just the way he looked at you, though that was part of it, his blue eyes holding something electric, like you were the only girl in the world. it wasn’t just the way his attention made your heart stutter, like you were under a spell you couldn’t shake. it was the way your mind twisted it all, painting vivid, cruel images of him looking at someone else like this.

looking at any girl like this. every girl. seeing his gaze soften like it did for you, feeling that same magnetic pull that left you breathless, making her feel exactly the way he made you feel. it made you want to throw up.

"how friendly," you muttered under your breath, stepping into the kitchen to busy yourself. your eyes skimmed over the contents of your mom’s shopping bags, your attempt to distract yourself entirely unconvincing.

"are you okay? you’re a little sweaty," your mom asked, her hand brushing your forehead with gentle concern.

"just my period," you replied softly, leaning into the touch as she pulled you into a warm embrace.

her arms wrapped around you, and you rested your head against her shoulder, but your eyes found rafe’s again. he hadn’t looked away, his gaze steady, unreadable.

"i’ll make you a cup of tea, yeah?" your mom offered, her voice soft in your ear.

"mhm, thanks, mom," you murmured.

"do you need a heat pad?" she added.

"already got one," you replied with a faint smile, trying to shake the weight of the moment.

she pulled back, her hand brushing over your arm before glancing toward rafe. "be sure to send rafe down if it cools so i can reheat the water, okay? you’ll do that for her, right?"

rafe didn’t miss a beat, his voice low but certain. "and more."

you felt your pulse stutter, but you didn’t dare let yourself read into it. not now. not again.

it’s only when you’re right in front of the stairs that you stop and turn to him. “you didn’t get my message?”

“i did get your message.” he says it like it’s a minor detail that doesn’t change anything.

“and you’re here.” you state and move up one step because you don’t like that he’s taller than you right now.

he raises his brows, looking up at you, “you’ve never dictated my whereabouts before..”

you cross your arms, “i thought you were mad at me.”

“i think you might be my hill.”

his hill?

“my hill to die on.” he clarifies and you’re quiet for a moment and then another because why why why would he say something like that?

your heart sort of feels like it’s being squeezed.

you don’t say another word as you climb the stairs together, you don’t say a word when you sit at your desk, your chemistry notes waiting, unread and you don’t say a word when he sits on your bed, facing you.

"not gonna talk to me?" he asks, his voice low and even, but you keep your eyes on the notes in front of you, pretending with all the strength you can muster that he isn’t sitting there, watching your every move.

"why’d you even let me into your room if you weren’t going to talk to me?" he asks again, the hint of a smirk in his tone that grates on you.

you roll your eyes, the response instinctual. he was six feet tall—what were you supposed to do? block the door? he wouldn’t have listened even if you’d told him to leave, and you both knew it.

"okay," he says suddenly, standing and crossing the room toward you. he crouches down beside you, his movements deliberate, his presence impossible to ignore now. "you’re still mad i didn’t tell you what happened friday, and i’m mad you won’t tell me what happened at the bonfire. it cancels out. we should just not be mad anymore," he says, as if it’s the simplest solution in the world.

you finally turn to look at him, and he’s close—too close. your eyes drop to the bruise beneath his eye, still swollen and tender-looking, as raw as it had been on friday. your frown deepens, and before you realize it, your hand lifts, fingers reaching toward the edge of the discoloration. but you stop short, your fingertips hovering before dropping back into your lap. you turn away again, determined not to give in to the pull of him.

you try to focus on your notes, the words swimming on the page. then, without warning, he grabs your book and tosses it onto your bed.

you don’t react, not really. instead, you reach for your laptop and pull up the pdf version, scrolling without looking at him.

"are you fuck—" he starts, catching himself when your glare sharpens on him, "—freaking serious?"

you turn back to your screen, your silence louder than any retort.

he closes your laptop with a single motion, holding it down when you try to open it again. your frustration boils over, and you stand, but he pushes you back into the chair, his movements unrelenting.

"you know you’re being a brat, right?" he says, his tone somewhere between amusement and exasperation. you cross your arms, staring straight ahead, refusing to engage.

with a scoff, he turns your chair so you’re facing him. your head swivels away, determined not to meet his gaze.

"i can’t believe this," he mutters, the disbelief laced with dry humor.

he could scoff and huff and puff all he wanted. you weren’t going to say a single word until he told you what happened friday. it didn’t matter if he thought you were being a brat, or if it wasn’t fair to withhold your own truth about the bonfire while expecting him to spill his.

the bonfire was different—separate. telling rafe what you saw would mean telling him why you reacted the way you did, and what was the point of all that when you were determined to weed out these feelings anyway?

because they would pass. they had to pass.

you’d read countless articles that said as much—this infatuation, this pull, was temporary. fleeting. give it ten, maybe fifteen business days, and you’d be fine. you’d be back to normal. telling him would only ruin something that didn’t need to be ruined, would risk losing him prematurely for something that wasn’t permanent.

"jesus christ, fine," he sighed, the frustration thick in his voice as he leaned back and sank onto your bed. he patted the spot next to him, his hand heavy on the comforter. "come here," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

you hesitated for just a moment before obeying, standing and crossing the small space between you. settling onto the bed beside him, your leg brushed against his, the proximity setting your nerves on edge.

"i’ve been… i’ve been in a shit mood all week, you know?" he began, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. he exhaled heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "and i guess i’ve been kind of a buzzkill. just… i’ve had a lot on my mind. about sarah, about soccer, my dad… and about you."

your breath caught at his admission, your fingers curling into the fabric of your shorts.

"it’s not like i can’t talk about it with my friends," he continued, his words slower now, more deliberate. "it’s just… i don’t have my thoughts straight yet. haven’t even worked through it myself, you know? but topper…" rafe broke off with a frustrated sigh, his jaw tightening. you could practically see the scene playing out in his head. "topper doesn’t like it when i don’t talk about shit. he’s always on edge, scared i’ll slip into… old habits if i don’t deal with my crap. so, he pushes. and pushes. and i was already pissed off, already had too much to drink, and he kept getting in my face, asking me what my problem was."

rafe’s hands flexed, his fingers pressing into his thighs like he was trying to contain the memory. "so i tell him to fu—to piss off," he corrected himself, glancing at you briefly. "but he just kept going, and i was done. i was ready to walk away, ready to just leave. and then…" his voice faltered, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you.

you frowned, leaning closer without even realizing it. "and then what?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

he turned to look at you, and the guilt in his eyes made your stomach twist.

"rafe," you pressed, your heart pounding. "what did he say? was it about me?"

he looked away, his hand dragging across his face like he could erase the tension in his features. "the details don’t really matter," he said, his voice low and evasive.

"no," you said sharply, shaking your head. "no. i want to know. tell me."

"it’s stupid," he muttered, his tone filled with reluctant anger. "he’s stupid—"

"you got into a physical fight over it. it can’t be that stupid," you argued, your gaze fixed on his.

rafe hesitated, his lips pressing into a tight line, as if debating whether to tell you.

"rafe,"

he exhaled sharply, his shoulders tense. "he said…" rafe hesitated again, his voice quieter now, tinged with anger and something softer—regret, maybe. "he said i should cut off ‘that goody-goody, prissy bitch’ because i was in a way better mood before i met you."

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. your shoulders sagged, and your gaze dropped to the floor. you took a shallow breath, exhaling slowly as the weight of his admission settled over you.

"and then?" you asked quietly, your voice steady but barely audible.

"y/n—" he started, but you cut him off, your head snapping up to meet his eyes.

"and then?"

rafe sighed, running his hand through his hair again, the strands sticking up messily. "i told him to come again. i don’t even remember what he said next, honestly. all i caught was sarah’s name and something muffled before i… slammed him into a wall and kneed him in the face. he got one punch in, but i fractured his nose and he looks like shit, so… i’m pretty pleased with that part."

a dry, humorless laugh escaped him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to smile. his words lingered in your head, sharper than the bruise on his face, harder to ignore than the ache settling in your chest.

"i'm sorry..that this all happened." you said and he shook his head, "it's not your fault. don't apologise." it felt a little your fault. or maybe a lot. you can imagine that if you never tutored rafe in the first place, this wouldn't have happened.

your gaze stayed fixed on the floor, avoiding his entirely, but rafe wasn’t having it. he leaned forward, lowering his head until his eyes found yours. "topper’s an asshole," he said bluntly. "and honestly, i’m probably gonna kick his ass again the next time i see him."

a small, unwilling smile tugged at your lips. "don’t do that," you whispered, the diplomat in you rising instinctively.

"no?" he asked, grinning in a way that made your heart flutter and your stomach flip. "don’t think he deserves a matching one?" he gestured toward his own black eye, the faint shadow of a bruise still etched into his face.

the truth was, topper probably did deserve it. but you bit your lip, shaking your head anyway, even as you silently agreed.

"he’s not wrong, though," you admitted quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

rafe rolled his eyes with a sharp exhale. "fuck him and fuck whatever he has to say about you. he doesn’t know a thing about you."

you nodded slowly, your heart both heavy and a little lighter at the same time. "hmm… doesn’t change that i’m pretty prissy. and, you know, a serious goody-goody," you said with a wry smile. "maybe not the bitch part though."

rafe pulled a face, a mix of disbelief and irritation. "just because you’re not downing a beer crate every weekend or hooking up with half the town doesn’t make you prissy—or a goody-goody. topper’s just being a dickhead, and he knows it."

his words made you freeze. your breath hitched, your body tensing almost imperceptibly, but not enough to escape his notice.

rafe’s brows lifted, his tone shifting as a teasing grin spread across his face. "unless…" he started, leaning closer, his voice playful. "you are secretly an alcoholic?"

you let out a small, breathy laugh despite yourself, shaking your head and turning away. you didn’t want to have this conversation—not anymore.

"then…" he pressed, undeterred. "some boyfriend? or… boyfriends? that i should know about? or girlfriend?"

your pulse quickened, and you bolted upright, crossing the room in a hurry. you stopped at your bookshelf, your fingers brushing over the spines of the books as though you were searching for something specific. "um, no," you muttered, your voice clipped and quiet.

behind you, his voice came, laced with that maddening curiosity. "how long has it been?"

you froze, turning your head just enough to glance at him, wary. "how long has what been?"

his knowing smirk deepened, and the glint in his eye told you he already knew the answer—or thought he did. "how long has it been since you’ve gone fourth base, teach?"

your brow furrowed, and you blinked at him, the term pulling at a distant, foggy memory from freshman-year sex ed. "fourth base?" you repeated in a whisper, trying to piece it together.

he stopped moving, his gaze locking on yours with a mixture of disbelief and something softer—was it pity? "wait," he said, the realization dawning on him. "you’ve never…" his voice trailed off, leaving the implication hanging thick in the air.

your cheeks burned hotter, and you blinked rapidly, refusing to answer until you were absolutely sure of what he meant. "is that…hands stuff?" you asked, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

his jaw slackened, and his shock only deepened. "you’ve never had se—"

"shut up!" you snapped, spinning away from him so he couldn’t see your mortified expression. "i’ll have you know that it is completely normal!"

"okay, yes, but…" his tone shifted, almost as if he were genuinely concerned now, which only made it worse. "you’ve done, like, third-base stuff, right?"

the way he threw these terms around so casually grated on your nerves, especially since you had no idea what half of them meant. you glared at him, crossing your arms defensively. "enough with the baseball analogies! speak english!"

he chuckled softly, and the sound only added to your irritation. "okay, fine. have you done… you know, under-the-clothes stuff?" he clarified, his voice gentler now, but it didn’t soften the blow.

your silence stretched too long, and you saw the understanding flicker in his eyes before he even whispered, "shit…"

he hesitated, then asked, almost cautiously, "have you even had your first kiss?"

you turned sharply, glaring daggers at him. "of course," you snapped, though your voice lacked conviction. "i’ve kissed… two guys." the last part came out so softly it barely registered, even to you.

"repeat that?" he asked, leaning forward like he didn’t quite believe what he’d just heard. his eyes were wide, filled with something you couldn’t name—disbelief? Amusement?

"two guys," you hissed, louder this time, but it still didn’t sound like much.

"oh my god," he said slowly, nodding as though he were processing groundbreaking information. "so… two boyfriends?"

you shook your head quickly. "one boyfriend. the other was…" you hesitated, cringing inwardly. "seven minutes in heaven."

that did it. rafe’s quiet laughter bubbled up, low and persistent as he shook his head. "seven minutes in heaven?" he echoed, his grin widening.

"stop!" you demanded, but he was already smiling too broadly to take you seriously.

"who were the guys?" he asked, and you stared at him, debating whether or not to answer. finally, with a shrug, you muttered, "danny watson."

that made him stand up, his eyes wide with exaggerated disbelief. "danny watson?" he repeated, his tone bordering on incredulous. "the one who’s always wearing a fanny pack?"

"he’s really nice!" you argued, crossing your arms tighter over your chest. "and smart! and—whatever, i don’t have to explain myself! i also dated jeremy dunn in freshman year. very, very briefly."

"so, basically…" he said, grinning like he’d cracked the case, "you’ve never been kissed."

"yes, i have!" you shot back, standing taller as though it might add weight to your words. "maybe they weren’t the perfect, romcom kisses, but they were real kisses."

he raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. your defensiveness only made it worse, but you couldn’t help yourself. the way he was looking at you, like you were some sort of anomaly, made you want to claw back every ounce of dignity you had left.

how many girls had he kissed? the thought burned in your chest. if cora was right and he got with a different girl every day, that had to be at least seven hundred girls in the past three years. you even gave him the benefit of the doubt and limited it to weekdays. still, the sheer number made you dizzy.

and here he was, standing in your room, acting like your two measly kisses were some kind of tragedy.

"they weren’t real kisses," he said, his voice low and certain. "you wouldn’t be talking about them like this if they made you feel even a sliver of what a real kiss should feel like." god, here comes the kissing connoisseur.

"okay, enlighten me," you said, exhaling a sigh and trying to sound disinterested, even though your pulse had quickened, and your curiosity was clawing at you.

he shifted, leaning casually against your desk, his arms crossed as he faced you. "unless your first is with someone you really like, it’s gonna be shit. and even if it is with someone you really like, if you’re both bumbling idiots—and let’s be honest, you probably are—it’ll still feel like shit."

your mind flickered back to those two kisses. they hadn’t been bad. they were just…kisses. no fireworks, no earth-shattering revelations. kind of like when your grandma kissed your cheek—sweet, familiar, forgettable. that wasn’t bad, right? you loved your grandma.

"but once you’re older, and you’ve got your eye on someone?" his voice softened, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. "imagine you’re at a party. you’ve been watching each other all night, and you just keep moving closer, little by little. it’s not even intentional—it’s like there’s this magnetic pull between you, like the universe is plotting to pull you together."

you were holding your breath now, your eyes fixed on him. on his lips. on the way his hands gestured subtly, like he was weaving a spell with his words. without realizing it, you leaned forward slightly, the space between you shrinking inch by inch.

"then, you’re face to face," he continued, his voice almost a whisper now. "there’s this quiet kind of flirting, just between the two of you. your breaths mingle, and then…hands start to move—into their hair, onto their waist, wherever. suddenly, you can’t tell where you end and they begin. it’s like you just…become one."

his eyes locked on yours, and you swore you forgot how to breathe. his legs shifted, spreading slightly, and it felt like an unspoken invitation to step closer. your teeth caught your bottom lip as you fought the overwhelming urge to close the distance. but it wasn’t working—you kept inching forward, drawn to him like gravity.

"it feels like electricity," he murmured, his voice thick with intensity. "your whole body is buzzing, like you might actually catch fire the second your lips touch."

his hand reached out, catching the hem of your sweater and tugging gently, pulling you into his space. your breath hitched audibly, and your nose brushed his as your bodies hovered just short of touching.

"and then you finally kiss," he whispered, his hands ghosting over your waist, so light they barely registered. "and it’s like the rest of the world disappears. you forget where you are because nothing else matters. it’s just…you and them. that’s it. it should make your head spin, your knees weak, and leave you completely and utterly incapable of pulling away."

his lips brushed yours then, a fleeting, teasing touch that sent a jolt through your entire body. you froze, caught in the electric moment, and realized with startling clarity that if he pulled away now, it might actually kill you.

"if it didn’t feel like that," he whispered, his voice feather-soft and tantalizing, "then it wasn’t a real kiss."

and then he kissed you.

your mind screamed, finally, finally, finally, like you’d been waiting for this moment your entire life. his lips were soft but firm, demanding but gentle, everything you’d imagined and somehow so much more. a wave of heat spread through you, leaving your skin tingling, your head reeling. your hand trembled as it came up to his face, the other fisting in his shirt, desperate to pull him closer.

just as you started to lose yourself completely, he pushed you back suddenly. the abruptness sent you stumbling into your bed with a startled shriek.

the door swung open. "what was that shriek?" your mom’s voice came, cup of tea in hand as she stepped inside.

"she’s in pain," rafe interjected smoothly, stepping forward to take the tea from her before you could so much as catch your breath. "it’s really…getting to her."

you blinked rapidly, trying to reorient yourself as your mom frowned, concern etched across her face. "oh no, sweetheart. do you need stronger pills? i might have something downstairs."

"y-yeah," you stammered, your voice shaky. "that…that’d be great. yes."

your mom leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before straightening. "all right, then." her gaze flicked to rafe, her smile warm but pointed. "rafe, not that i don’t love having you here, but she should rest. i’ll send you home with some dessert."

you watched helplessly as she ushered him toward the door. rafe shot you one last look, a flicker of amusement and something else in his eyes, before she closed the door behind her.

a.n — honestly yn kinda getting on my nerves now….

chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap.

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72 notes · View notes

lexirosewrites · 13 hours ago

Note

Hiii I don’t usually go here, but I have had a few Disjointed Thoughts(™) for like WEEKS and I finally decided to share on this, the most holy (hole-y, hah) of days, Slick Sunday.

SO. O!Steve, A!Eddie, shocking. Steve is excruciatingly aware that, physically? He’s not really the Ideal Omega, at least by societal standards. Or his parents’ standards. Or his own, if he lets himself think about it too much, but that’s why he simply Does Not Think About It. Emotionally, he’s pretty solid. He absolutely loves his forcibly-adopted, feral, teenage pups. He’s excited to have his own one day, and to have an Alpha who loves him and their pups. He is always taking care of somebody, particularly the people he cares about, and most of the time it’s not even a conscious choice.

Physically, though?

Physically, he’s taller than an omega usually is. He spent so much time doing sports before he presented, and then after to keep up the image. Plus, let's be honest, he's absolutely keeping himself in shape and strong enough to defend/protect his little chosen pack. No matter how he or other people might feel about it, nothing is as important as keeping everyone safe, even after the UD is taken care of.

He and Eddie have been getting close, though. Eddie made enough anti-secondary-gender-roles speeches in school that Steve's pretty sure he won't mind that Steve is more invested in keeping them all safe than playing the part of “good little omega.” He was certainly impressed when Steve had to bite a bat in the Upside Down, and that's not very Omegan. The problem is, Eddie is such a perfect Alpha. Robin always makes a face when he says it, but Steve can feel it in his soul. Eddie is loud, exuberant, fiercely loyal, and protective of anyone who might need it, particularly when he cares about them. He's good with his hands, between his guitars and tinkering with his van when it has a new issue every month. He bickers with Wayne constantly over bills, trying to get his uncle to let him help more, leaving stray bills in Wayne's pockets when he loses the argument.

If Eddie can be such a good Alpha, Steve can try and be a better Omega, just a little. He does tone his more Alpha-like tendencies down a little, just to be safe- doesn't bring up playing sports/working out as much when Eddie's around, asks Eddie to help move things instead of just doing it himself, lets other people grab stuff from high shelves rather than volunteering himself. It seems to be going well, all things considered. He and A!Robin (who knows about the Omega-image issues, but not that he's been playing a bit more of the helpless Omega for Eddie, because she absolutely wouldn't approve) are sure Eddie's going to ask him to start courting any day now, really!!

To hopefully kick-start the process, Steve eagerly volunteers to help Wayne with some manual labor. Something with the siding of the trailer; it won’t be difficult, but it'll be a lot easier with two people. He'd have helped anyway, of course, but he's very aware that Eddie is devoted to his uncle and wants him taken care of. Surely, if there's anything that would outweigh any distaste from the non-Omega-like behavior, it's helping Wayne. The day of, though, he's on a ladder (Wayne is holding the ladder steady; Steve threw a hissy fit when he tried to go up himself), hammering in the last couple nails when Eddie gets home.

Normally, Eddie seems ecstatic to see Steve in any scenario- at one of their houses, after Hellfire to take the kids home, the few times they've passed each other in the grocery store- but when Steve looks over to say hi, he doesn't look… pleased. He actually looks kind of. Angry? Maybe? His eyes are blank, not filled with the warmth he's used to. His mouth is pressed together in a thin line, jaw clenched.

Steve has gotten pretty good at reading Eddie, knows his facial expressions like the back of his hand, but this is new. New and not happy. It makes him self-conscious, make him want to jump off the ladder and go beg forgiveness from his Alpha for whatever he did, but Steve pushes it down. He's got a job to finish, and if that face is directed at him for too long there's a good chance he's going to start whining- or worse, crying. Eddie gets back in his van immediately, though, driving off who knows where. Steve tells himself he was probably just having a bad day, and didn't want company. That's just a thing that happens. Nothing immediately to do with Steve, surely, and Wayne doesn't seem bothered so it's fine. Definitely.

A few days pass, and the party are all at Steve's house. The pups (who are nearly grown, now, but that doesn't stop them from being Steve's Pups, okay?) are mostly in the pool. The technically-adults are enjoying the sun and calling out warnings when the play-fighting gets a little too rough. Steve and Lucas are practicing basketball a few feet away, trying to nail a particular, super impressive move that even Steve can only do with about 40% accuracy. (I don't know basketball, I'm sure something like this has to exist though, right??? Indulge me lol) The two of them have been at it all summer, to better Lucas’ chance of getting varsity next school year.

Then Lucas nails it. Absolutely picture-perfect form, better than even Steve has ever done it. And they go NUTS. Everyone is looking over, confused but generally amused at their antics. Steve is so proud that he doesn't even think about it, just lifts Lucas up so he's sitting on one of Steve's shoulders, so Steve can hold him up with one arm and gesture wildly with the other while parading Lucas around, explaining exactly why this is so impressive to the non-athletes.

Except. Then he happens to look over at Eddie. And it's the face from the other day. Closer now, he can see that Eddie's knuckles are white where they're clenched around his beer bottle. Steve still can't get a read on it, and Eddie hasn't been in the pool yet so the scent blocker is keeping Steve from being able to tell what's the matter. Again, Steve's first instinct is to figure out what he did, how he can be better. But this is Eddie. He's probably just bitter about a sports thing interrupting whatever nerd conversation he was probably having, and he'll get over it quickly. Besides, Lucas deserves his moment.

Eddie is fine the rest of the night, and it doesn't come up, so Steve manages to mostly forget about it. But a week or two later, Steve is dropping Max off at home after physical therapy, and she's clearly too tired and exhausted for the stairs but she'll never admit it. Steve moves slowly, telegraphing his intentions as obviously as he can to give her an out, but she doesn't take it. So he picks her up, gently as possible, and carries her up the steps, grabbing her crutches as well.

He doesn't push it, even if his Omega would be thrilled to bring her in and make sure she gets settled and drinks some water, because it'd make her uncomfortable and this is already a lot. They don't talk about it, they just say their goodbyes and Steve goes to drive home. He glances over at the Munson's trailer, purely out of habit, and in the window is Eddie. With the same facial expression as before. He turns away from the window before Steve can react, and the curtain is pulled.

Steve has the whole way home to question this, and the only similarity between the two events that could have caused that face is… Steve being too Alpha-like. The manual labor, carrying the pups around. He's too strong, too big. He's not a good Omega, and his Alph- Eddie, who isn't his Alpha yet and maybe now never will be- Eddie doesn't like it. He drops. Hard. He's not sure how he makes it back to his house, or inside. The next thing he knows, he's sitting next to the phone, Robin's voice coming distant but frantic from where it's dangling by the cord next to him.

Then she's there, in front of him. Worried, clearly, but Steve can't bring himself to do anything about it. He just stares. Time passes, clearly, because at some point he finds himself in his own bed, nest haphazarly built up around him where someone presumably tried to make it bigger without disturbing anything, staring blankly at the ceiling with Robin pressed against him.

His face is wet.

His eyes hurt.

Oh. He's been crying.

He remembers why.

His breath catches, and it's enough to get Robin's attention. She scrambles up, holding his face while she takes exaggerated breaths. He matches her breathing until he's sure they're past the risk of hyperventilating. He tells her everything- not just the times Eddie has seemed upset, but every time he's tried to be better, to be less, every time he's questioned if it would ever be enough. She clearly wants to comment, but she lets him get it all out first. When it's clear he's done, she bundles him in her arms. Calls him a dingus, so he'll crack a smile. They slowly transfer back down the stairs, curling up in a mass of limbs in front of the tv to watch whatever they can find without getting up.

Steve drives her home around midnight, knowing she has work tomorrow and he's got the day off. He swears he's fine, that he'll call if something changes. He waves her off, drives away, and heads in the opposite direction of home. He's okay for now, but if he goes home, he'll think about how empty it is, how he may never have an Alpha to help him fill the space and the quiet, and he won't be okay for long.

He ends up at the quarry. Still quiet, and he's still alone, but at least it's intentional here. He's not exactly watching the clock, but he's only idly thrown a handful of rocks down into the water when he hears a noise he could pick out anywhere. Eddie's van is pulling up, faster even than the ridiculous speeds he usually does. The gravel flies up as he slams on breaks, and the headlights are still fading out when Eddie throws himself out the door.

He hurries towards Steve, and when he's close enough, he drops to his knees. Steve tries to ask, tries to pull him up because that can't be good for Eddie's knees, especially when he's clearly in his pajamas and some untied shoes but Eddie grabs his hand and holds it in both of his own. Trips over his words as he tries to explain, rambles that Robin had called him after she got home, that Eddie had immediately run out the door, went to the house first and then drove around to find Steve.

Steve can feel the shame heating his cheeks, prickling in his gut. He's already mentally cursing Robin's overprotective nature. Of course she'd immediately tried to defend him. She'd probably told Eddie off, something embarrassing about leading him on or believing too much in gender roles despite his own nonconformity or whatever else. Steve tries to pull his hand away, but Eddie's got a firm grip and pleading eyes, and Steve's Omega is too desperate for some approval after his drop earlier to try too hard.

Eddie looks like he's tearing up, and Steve is too caught off guard by this whole thing to hold back the whine it pulls out of him. Even if he's hurt, seeing Eddie upset almost hurts his Omega more than anything else. Eddie's eyes go wide, and he surges to his feet, pressing Steve's hand to his chest and letting a reassuring rumble answer. Steve hates himself a little bit for how much it does calm him down.

Eddie rushes to explain. He's in love with Steve. He thinks Steve's easily the best Omega he's ever met, loves how much he cares for the people around him and protects their pups (Steve tries valiantly to ignore how his heart skips a beat at it being THEIR pups. He fails). The face Steve has been seeing has been Eddie straining to keep his Alpha from begging to bond with Steve on sight. Eddie wanted to court him, wanted to take it slow and romance him and do things properly because Steve deserves it, not ask Steve to have his babies in front of all their friends.

He's been waiting to ask, has been making Steve his own battle jacket since he'd liked Eddie's in the Upside Down as a first courting gift. Apparently, tracking down patches for artists Steve likes is a lot harder than finding patches for Eddie's favorites, and hand-sewing them all on has taken even longer. It's everything Steve could have ever hoped to want and so much more, and Eddie's not wearing any scent blockers, so underneath the heady smell of leather and comfort and Eddie, Steve can tell he's being honest.

The misunderstandings are forgiven. They start courting immediately, and Eddie gives him his own vest to wear as an IOU until Steve's is done. Robin is very mildly scolded for spilling Steve's business, which is cancelled out by the grin on Steve's face as he does it and the hug she tackles him in immediately after says she doesn't regret a thing. It's okay, though. Neither does Steve.

-irrelevantbutembarrassing

chomping on insecure omega Steve because he’s so biteable💕

#slick sunday #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steve x eddie #omegaverse #a/b/o #my asks #anon asks

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red-doll-face · 1 day ago

Note

Heeyyy! Soooo I have a fun request idea that I totally came up with on my own with no help from anybody else, from my own mind and not some super creative person that answered my question about Arthur proposing to reader 🤣 it goes something like this:

-takes three months to work up the nerve and like another one to pick out one ring.

-chickens out at least two times bc the moment isn't right

-asks Hosea for advice 19 times (Hosea is tired)

-he's the trope where reader starts crying and he's like ohh goddd i fucked up of course you don't wanna marry my ass

-the way he would ride around for a week looking for the perfect spot to do it

-marks it on his map with a heart

-the essays he would write in his journal about this situation

-he's so cute i love him pls marry me Arthur Morgan

-awww once you say yes??

Hehehehe no pressure though!!!!! I just looooovvvveeeee this idea so much!

Yes !!! Yes of course I’ll write this!!! ❤️❤️💕💕🥰🥰😵‍💫😵‍💫😩😩As always it ended up running really long even though I didn’t even really flesh out a back story. 🥲 I’m glad you enjoyed my response ☺️☺️ I definitely had high honor Arthur Morgan in mind for this when I read it, I hope it’s ok and that you like it!!! I was so happy to see you in my inbox !!! @zae-heeyyy 💓💓💓💓💓 writing this was so cathartic and I loved the rdr1 setting so much so that I made this pre black water heist or whatever 😭🫶 from Arthur’s pov hope you like the characterization 🥹

Tags: established relationship, marriage proposals?? Arthur being a major weenie. Like huge weenie. He is soooo sooo sweet it’s almost like too much and I love love love sweet Arthur so very fluffy!!!! Pre black water !! Dutch being a jerk 😒 but cute dad Hosea moments ☺️

Arthur wants things to be perfect for you.

(High honor) Arthur Morgan x fem. Reader

Arthur knows he’s made up his mind when he’s in the tailor’s shop in Blackwater, looking like a lowdown cattle rustler among all of the fancy fabrics on the wall. He and his spurs, his boots scuffed to hell and a leather satchel slung over his chest. He’s out of place and he knows it. But he’s here to buy a new shirt.

Yesterday, he had nearly driven himself insane looking for a shirt of his that wasn’t ruined, ripped and mended, dirty, stained irreparably. None of them were good enough for what he wanted, something nice to get down on one knee and ask his girl to marry him. And so he kissed you goodbye and rode into town in search of something better. He makes an effort at pretending to be interested in any of the fancy stuff, silk and linen suits that he sure will never be fitted for him. He clears his throat as the attendant drags his eyes away from the sunday paper.

A tight lipped smile consumes the man's face. Arthur already can sense the assumptions he’s getting but he pays little mind to it. He’s getting this shirt and that's that.

“How can I help you, sir?” Obnoxious and nasally, the thin and short man's voice already gives away his air of superiority. Arthur's eyes narrow but he isn’t too irritated yet.

“Here to get a shirt.” His words are simple. The attendant raises a brow.

“Just a shirt, not… pants or shoes?” the attendant lowers the paper to scan over the rest of Arthur’s clothes. Arthur can hardly ignore the burn of insecurity.

He gives a look that conveys how quickly he is losing his patience. “Excuse me?” He can only tell his posture changed when he observes the man's attitude change, clinging to the counter between them like it would make any difference.

“No, well sir, perhaps I’ve overstepped, I apologize. What kind of-of shirts were you thinking?”

“Listen, I ain’t here to cause no trouble, just show me what you’ve got,” The attendant hurries to show him some options, tries to sell him a vest but that isn’t happening with his budget.

In the end, he picks a blue french dress shirt. Costs a real pretty penny but he wants it to be special. Because you’re special. He stuffs it away in a saddlebag after thanking the attendant, who no doubt heaves a sigh of relief after he leaves.

He’s been collecting rings. In a special bag is a collection. A few plain gold bands, some with stones set in them. They’re pretty blue and red gems, some have filigree detailing. But he still can’t find the right one.

Worse then, is that they’re rings of all different sizes which he gets from his more sordid activities. Debt collecting or train robberies. It’s all stolen goods. It feels wrong to give you something like that but when he told Dutch his intentions, he clapped him on the back and told him to look in the collection box for more rings. He nodded then but it was half hearted. Somehow that was more souring. Did he really want to give you something he took from someone else? That someone else bought for their loved one with the express purpose of giving them something to symbolize how they loved each other? His own thoughts swirl circles in his head, why he had these scruples about it, he didn’t know.

It’s riding with Hosea that he asks for advice. They’ve been working on a job in Tumbleweed, trying to con some poor fool into giving money he shouldn’t by pretending to sell land deeds. They ride all the way from the yellow grasses of Hennigan’s Stead and it’s been mostly quiet over the stretch of passing though Armadillo. Arthur decides to speak up after they pass through town. The sun is beginning to dip a bit lower in the sky but they’ll be in Tumbleweed before then.

“I been-”

“This about you n’ the girl?” Hosea already has a knowing smile and Arthur rubs the back of his neck. “I think you should do it! You two would make quite the couple, she’s a sweetheart, that girl,”

“Yeah, she-she’s… I’ve been lookin’ at rings to give ‘er,” He grips the reins before going lax, riding easily along the path. Hosea murmurs, letting Arthur continue. He guides Boadicea down the dusty road. “I don’t think I wanna give her something I got robbin’, don’t seem right,”

“Then get her something new, I don’t think she’ll mind at all. But you do what you think you should. You could probably fence all the other rings you thought about and get her something quite nice with the cash,”

“Yeah, I could do that,” why hadn't he thought of that?

“That’s a wonderful thing, getting married. Don’t be afraid to, y’know, go through with it. If you’re thinkin’ about it. Maybe, once Dutch and I find the perfect spot for the gang to settle down, we’ll build you two your own little thing on the land,”

“You that confident she’ll say yes?” Arthur has an awkward and disbelieving laugh but Hosea keeps his earnest smile.

“Why wouldn’t she? Arthur, somehow, she has gone for a man like you, you should be over the moon, you should be whistling tunes everywhere you go,”

“Like me? What's that supposed to mean?” He knows what he means. A man like him had very little to offer you, a young woman who could easily charm some other well established man into giving you a home. Leagues away from his cot and the weathered canvas he put up to give you some small amount of privacy.

“You remember what happened with that Mary woman. This time, things oughta turn out better. This one’s got no old man to chase you around with a shotgun,” Hosea figures himself very funny and laughs, ending it with a shallow cough. Arthur furrows his brows.

Of course he reminded him of his disaster with Mary. He could never escape that woman, even when he severed ties with her. But how he had wanted to, especially with you. Yes, it was true, he had loved Mary. But now he loves you. He needs you. His idea of the rest of his life always includes you, laying in bed with him, gently stroking his chest, leaving him love notes in his satchel, telling him what happened in the camp while he was gone. He always listens, always wakes up smiling with you tucked under his arm.

“I remember just fine,” he grunts,

“Good, because you’ll forget about her soon enough. Month from now, I suppose. Where are you going to tell her?”

“Where? I didn’t think we was gonna go nowhere, just tell her when I was ready to…” he hadn’t even imagined a place when he first set out to do this.

“So you wanna propose; with Uncle standing behind her, drunk off his ass in just his soiled union suit?”

“I-”

“Take her somewhere special, somewhere to make her feel special! Women like to feel special, Arthur, you know that,”

“I do?” He says, with a sarcastic edge to his voice, though he tries on his attempt at sounding uninvested.

“You should. I didn’t do that enough. I should have before, well…” Arthur nods, bowing his head a little as if in remembrance. He hopes to always have you by his side. Otherwise he would be much like Hosea: carrying a torch for a woman who passed through his life too quickly.

He starts his journey looking for something special. Special like you are. Keeps his eye out, marking potential things in his map, and makes a list in his journal. Aurora Basin maybe, a pretty lake deep in the forest but getting attacked by bears doesn’t sound romantic in any way. There are some sweeping vistas overlooking the San Luis River in Rio Bravo. He isn’t quite sure about anything though, thinking it over deeply. He just wants things to be perfect.

He’s still thinking about it when he comes back to camp, close to Lake Don Julio, sighing. Thinking much too hard obviously, he doesn’t notice that you’re sitting on his bed, biting your nail nervously until you see him first. You look worried, happy to see him but worried. You stand, hugging your arms around yourself and then placing them on your hips to make you seem more upset but you just drop them when he’s close enough.

“Hey, darlin’,” He utters, opening his arms to give you a hug but you just look up at him. He drops them, mentally kicking himself before taking his hat off and sitting down on his bed.

“Arthur, you’ve been gone three days,”

“I know,” you’re disappointed in his answer. You take a breath and a pause, looking off to the right. He stares down at his scuffed and weather worn boots. He hates to disappoint you, hates when you’re upset. It takes a lot to get you there, too. You’re a forgiving soul when he knows he doesn’t deserve forgiveness. He looks away, like a dog who knew he shouldn’t have chewed those leather boots up to bits.

“You know. I asked everyone where you were and they didn’t know,”

“Honey, I ain’t gonna leave you, I’m not-”

“You leave other men out of this, Arthur,” you already predicted he’d bring another man’s failings to make up for his own. Maybe bringing up John’s shortcomings while you’re upset is a little below the belt but it worked better in his head. He puffs some air out in a laugh. God, he just can’t seem to find the right words to say.

“Is something funny? Is how much-how much I worry funny to you?” You look like you’re gonna cry, squeezing your arms tight around yourself. Your eyes flick around, thinking of all the people watching, never any goddamn privacy in this place. You start to back up, looking for a place to hide your tears.

“No, no, I- I’m sorry, don’t go walkin’ away,” You let him pull you back. Let him tug you into his lap. You sniff and tuck into his neck. “I’m sorry,” he says at least 5 more times. His hands pet down your hair, holding you. He hadn’t wanted to come back to such a harrowing fear in the pit of his stomach, the thought of you walking off without him. He thinks himself lucky that you haven’t had enough of him and decided to leave already.

Arthur pulls you in real tight, doesn’t let up til’ you start to calm down a little. “Shouldn’t cry for me, sweet girl, bastard like me ain’t worth them tears,” he wipes a few away. Seeing you like this could make him cry if he thought about it too much, how he had let you down. His nerves almost make him tremble, the slightest shake in his fingers when he brushes them under your eyes, shiny with tears. If anyone else made you cry, he’d knock their teeth out. But what is he supposed to do when it’s him? Sickness roils around his abdomen.

“Where were you, anyway?” You shake your head at his words. “Mac and Davey said…” he perks up at that. Those boys are a terror. His face screws up in an anticipated anger. He’d be angrier with them, they’re the ones who need to see it, not you.

“What’d they say?”

“No, they were just messing with me. I don’t think it’s true,” You look away. But he knows exactly how nasty those boys can be. He gives you a look and you give him a defeated one in return. An embarrassment leaks into your words. You can’t meet his eyes, twiddling your fingers.

“They said you were at the saloon in town. They said things that aren’t true and I know it but it isn’t nice to leave me here with nothing to say about it,”

“I know, darlin’, next time, you’ll be the first to know where I’m goin’,” You nod and wrap an arm around his shoulder while he pats your back, grabs your thigh so he can pull you to sit across his lap fully.

“Are you gonna answer my question or should I take their word?” you tease and he reassures you about those boys. They’ll be hearing from him soon enough.

“I’m gonna have a word with them, don’t worry about it,” he scratches his beard. How is he supposed to say that he went riding around looking for a place to take you so he can ask you to take his sorry hand in marriage? He had already disappointed you and saying it’s a secret is a laughable idea.

“Well, I was out, uhh- huntin’?” You frown and lean away.

“Arthur, you’re an awful hunter and an awful liar,” you look really hurt. You almost stand but he pulls you back. He needs something to tell you and fast.

“I was out lookin’ for somethin’ real special to give you. It’s supposed to be a surprise…but well, I can’t keep no secrets from you, sweetheart,” You fuss a little, a wariness in your posture. You study his expression. It isn’t a complete lie, makes it a bit easier to pull off. He really does have a surprise for you. He tries to keep his face neutral, but his lips twitch up when yours do to, a small smile shining through the clouds of your emotional turmoil.

“What surprise?”

“I didn’t find it, guess a surprise, it’s gonna have to stay,” You pout and wiggle, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest.

“Ok, but once you find it, you better take me to see it right away,” You kiss him, soft and sweet, holding his prickly jaw in one hand. He can feel how your pout gives way to a smile. The feeling of your soft lips on his is one of those things he’ll never get sick of, never get over.

“I will, promise,”

He’s found the perfect ring, really, by chance. It’s a little thing but it’s the right color, goes well with you. The rock on it isn’t very big but he saw it in a window while in town. Some big fancy jewelry store, showing off all the finer things that he never paid any mind to. Unless it was to steal it of course. But he had bought it. With money that may have been also robbed but it was from hitting a Del Lobo stash. A good deed, probably in a backwards sense.

The girls had ‘oohed’ at it, Mary-Beth had an excited tiny clap and Tilly rejoiced. Jenny nodded with a small smile.

“We’re happy for you Arthur! Oh my god, Arthur Morgan, gettin’ married…” Tilly giggles, putting her hands to her cheeks and clasping her hands in front of the skirt of her yellow dress.

Karen laughed. “Never thought I’d see the day,”

“Don’t listen to her, I mean we was hoping when we saw you two huddled up all the time,” Mary-Beth takes the ring from him, holding it closer, so that Jenny and Tilly can get a closer look.

“Hey, be careful with that,” he murmured, trying not to sound too desperate. He scratches his neck instead of snatching it back like his instinct wants him to. Evening is coming soon, purple dusk and soft coyote yipping and howling far in the distance marks the sun's descent. Meaning you’re probably finishing up whatever it is you’re doing. He hopes you don’t come around the corner at an inopportune time. Arthur turns his head this way and that.

“Where’d you get it? Looks new, ain’t scuffed to high heaven like everything else around here,” Jenny points out and the girls nod.

“Bought it in town,” playing it off doesn’t work so well.

They ‘ooh’ some more. “Fancy. Only the best for Arthur’s sweetheart,” Karen coos teasingly.

“Gimme that,” grumbling, he takes the ring back, bowing his head so they can’t see the embarrassment plain on his face. He meanders off after asking how things have been. Of course, they only give him updates about you, Karen jokes that that’s all he wants to hear about anyway. He scoffs and wishes them a good evening.

But the perfect spot is yet to be discovered. Evades him like just about nothing else. He almost gives up on the idea. He’s been taking you out, trying to get you in the almost perfect moments. Taking you out on the town in Blackwater was a good time, he bought you dinner and took you on a stroll down the cobbled streets, watching your face light up when you saw something pretty in a window, clutching his hand and pulling him in more. He almost proposed on the veranda at the Blackwater saloon. Only for a fight to break out at the poker table to interrupt.

Then he took you out to see the poppy fields in Great Plains. But he had let his anxiousness and his nerves overtake him. He had tucked the ring away. You had looked so beautiful standing among the flowers, it was perfect but he just…couldn’t. Instead, he wrote in his journal about his own cowardice. Wrote about if he should lock you to him for the rest of your life. If he’d end up leaving you a widow. Or if you were to be taken from him like Annabelle and Bessie. Leaving behind lonely men who longed for a woman gone from this world. Then he scribbled pictures of you, trying to draw the motion in your hair and in your dress and the beaming most enchanting smile he had ever seen.

Boadicea munched on the long wheat grass, waving in the wind while he kept a watchful eye on you, picking flowers in your pretty dress fluttering against the bright blue of the sky. You have a bunch of candy orange poppy flowers held together by your palms, a bright smile on your face. You walk to where he sits, leaning against the tree, next to a small broken down stone fence. Your smile falters when you see his pensive expression. You come close enough to touch. You dangle one flower above him before you tuck it into the frayed ropes banded around the crown of his hat. He lowers his head while you fuss. Smiling like a fool. You smile again too, sitting beside him. You both listen to the sound of the quiet plains, breeze in the branches above him. The shade is cool, light filters beautifully over your features, speckled like the back of a doe.

“Something has been going on with you, Arthur,” you state as pure fact, knowing him all too well. You had only really known each other a year and have only been together as a couple for six months but you knew him better than anyone else. You had let him be himself, let him just…be. He didn't need to say anything for you to understand him.

“I’ve just been… thinkin’ bout some things,”

“Really? I thought you said you weren’t very good at that,” you smile a little, nudging his shoulder. Hoping to lift his spirits with his similar brand of humor but when he hardly huffs a laugh, you frown. “Is it about you and me?”

“Yeah, in a way,” he says, unable to hide anything from you. Why should he bother? Saying no would make you more suspicious. Arthur closes his eyes and can feel the panic rising in you. He could have been better about saying it but he’s quick to deflect it away from his secret. “You happy with me?” low and grumbled, the severity makes his tone go way down.

“I don’t understand. Do I not seem happy? Arthur, I’ve never…I’ve never been happier than I am with you. You’re the kind of man any girl would be lucky to have,” You smile, leaning to face him. Softening up, your eyes track over his face.

He wanted to ask you right then and there. Tell you just how much you complete him. How lucky he was to have you, how there never was a happier time in his life. He doesn’t believe in that sentiment you have, he had failed the women in his life. But he had wanted to make a vow, to never leave you alone. It’s his own nerves that wrap tight around his hands, don’t let him reach in his satchel for the little treasure that will be your wedding ring.

“No, I just know I been gone, I don’t wanna ignore you. I just been busy,”

“You have things to do,” You sigh heavily. “I wish the other men would be as helpful as you. Sometimes, I watch Sean, Uncle, and Bill lay around all day while you’re out working. It doesn’t seem fair,” Your brows pinch in a small dissatisfaction with the idea. He smirks.

“I don’t know how much I trust Sean to get things done right. We’d probably eat nothin’ but leaded rabbit meat and whiskey if we left it up to that boy,” You giggle and nod. Happy to see him back in his joking mood.

“Arthur… You know I love you, don’t you?” God, those words make him shiver. Make his heart rattle in his chest. Could swear his insides turn about 3 times. So sweet, you look at him, hands on his thighs, leaning into his side. He opens his arm for you to tuck into, grabbing your waist to pull you close.

“Yeah, I do. Love you more,” he can feel heat flush up his neck and cheeks but he doesn’t care if he looks like a lovesick idiot. Your joy is worth it. The wind blows your hair over your shoulder, you let him sweep it back some more. Your pretty laugh when he bows over to lay you down on the grass makes him chuckle.

He’s finally found it. Montana Ford. A shallow spot in the river he discovered, looking for a short cut trying to cross from New Austin into West Elizabeth. He hated riding through the Del Lobo populated Thieves Landing, especially after they were catching on that it was Dutch and his boys robbed their stash two weeks ago. He sighed and then he veered off the road, looking for somewhere to cross. And the shaded river was perfect.

He stays there a moment, looking at the pretty grass growing alongside the water, the light glittering over the surface. The sound of the river rushing by fills his head pleasantly. You’d love it, you’d toss your boots aside and wade into the river, lifting your skirts high enough to hopefully not get wet. But you’d be wet anyway. He’d do it too, you made him feel like he was twenty despite his thirty some years on this earth.

He decides to sit and sketch it and write about you. Just how excited he was at how everything was coming together. He feels like a kid, sappy but too devoted to care very much at the small heart he puts on his map. He’s almost embarrassed of himself. Even with no one to see. He folds his map up and stuffs his journal away, whistling his horse over. With a soft word or two, he mounts up and continues on to his destination.

It's been three days since he found the spot he would take you to and he’s had a ring in his satchel that glares up at him every time he opens it to pull out a cigarette. Of course, just as everything comes together, Dutch insists he go scouting for some new venture, looking to follow a treasure hunter so they could rob him. It ends up being a whole lot of nothing from a bad tip but Dutch has a ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained’ speech to try and lick his own wounds at Arthur’s expense. Arthur rolls his eyes. Feels his hands knot into fists.

“Maybe next time, it’ll be you runnin’ all over New Austin on some wild goose chase! And I’ll give you this bullshit. Wouldn’t that be just fine, wasting your goddamn time-”

“Arthur, calm down! I don’t have time for your complaining. Where is that girl of yours? Why don’t you blow some of that steam off with her? It’s obvious to me-”

“Dutch…stop pushing the boy,” Hosea remarks from where he’s reading a book nearby. Arthur postures to continue arguing and Dutch shoots a glare before waving him off. He looks to Hosea and backs away, huffing. But before he can go for a smoke to hopefully calm himself down so he could be with you, Hosea calls him over.

“So… have you popped the question?”

“No, I ain’t got time most days,” He sighs in defeat, dropping his weight on the seat next to him, resting on his knees, leaned over. He takes his hat off to adjust his hair before putting it back on. He hadn’t seen you in another two days on account of this stupid ploy to rob a treasure hunter who didn’t know left from right and east from west. What an idiot. But not nearly as foolish as he.

“Tomorrow, I’ll tell Dutch to leave you out of these plots of his. I’ll even tell Miss Grimshaw that she’ll be gone. Take her and ride away for a couple of days. I hope to see a ring on her finger when you get back. In fact, I’ll be expecting it!” Hosea has a smile on his face, the excitement is genuine. Arthur nods.

“And what if she says no?”

“Well you keep at it. Perhaps a little persistence is all you need but why do you insist on imagining the worst?” It’s as if after asking, he considers why Arthur might not want to change things irreparably, might have already put his heart on the line and had it thrown away before.

“Arthur, the sting of rejection must be pretty…pretty lamentable. But you wouldn’t be trying this hard if you really thought you didn’t have a good chance,” Hosea sets his book down. “Go get some rest… leave first thing in the morning,” Hosea pats Arthur lightly on his shoulder. Arthur looks up as Hosea wanders in the direction of his tent.

His heart does yearn to see you at his side, wearing his ring on your finger. To hear you referred to as Mrs. Morgan. But all he can see is an incredulous look on your face. ‘Marry? Me? Arthur, you must be joking,’ you laugh and laugh. You’d never be so cruel but whatever part of him hates his own guts imagines the scenarios with great fervor. The anger from the rest of his day and the anger at himself grit against each other. He growls low before marching off to his tent.

You’re already inside, looking very lovely, one of his mended shirts serving as something of a robe to wear over your underthings. You look up and smile. He could forget the whole world just by looking at you. You hum, scooting over in bed.

“Arthur…” the way you call his name, you hardly need to give him any pet names, just Arthur will do.

“Come out with me tomorrow. First thing in the morning,” He states. More like a command, the residual anger drips off his words. You look at him strangely.

“Alright but I’d like to know what all of this is about first,” You set whatever you were working on, perhaps brushing your hair as you set a horsehair brush aside. You give him a concerned look.

“Found that surprise,” he grumbles, sitting down and tugging his boots off. “Hope you’ll like it but…” he stops to tug his gun belt off, his suspenders too. Arthur rests his hat gently on the side table. “Can’t be too sure til I show it to ya,” You smile softly.

“I think if you think I like it, I’ll love it,” God, he hopes so. Anticipation bounces around in his head and in his lungs. He’s practically short of breath. How he’s going to sleep, he has no idea.

“Yeah?” you hum in agreement. Looking sleepy, he’s endeared by how your eyes blink slowly, how you wiggle onto his chest the second he lays down. Your hands rub down his chest and belly. You’re asleep in a matter of minutes. He almost wishes he had you for company still but he’d never wake you for something so selfish. Instead, he pets down your hair and listens to your breathing, the natural hush that covers the camp once it’s too late for much of anything but small chatter.

Like clockwork, he wakes early. He can’t remember falling asleep but you're softly murmuring, you won’t wake unless he expressly wakes you. He gives himself time to put on that shirt he bought and rub his hand over his face at how nervous and silly he feels buttoning it up. He pulls a jacket over it to hopefully hide how ridiculous he looks. The morning is a pale blue when he steps out, thinking to bring you coffee to wake you.

You dress, half asleep, when he comes back to you, humming into the cup he brought you. You wear something nice but not overstated. You put kisses on him to wish him a good morning after you’ve decided you’re cleaned up enough.

He helps you up on his horse, Boadicea already very used to you. The ride isn’t too bad and you certainly make it better, he’s quiet with nerves, responding as much as he can without getting lost in his thoughts. The sun has climbed up and blazed down on you for a while by the time you get there. But your face when you see his surprise is too precious, eager to slip off the back of his horse.

“Arthur, it’s so beautiful!” The summer sun is high in the sky, perfect for your plans as you tug your boots off. He ambles after you, hitching his horse to a tree. You’re already sighing and knee deep in the center of the river. Your stockings lay haphazardly tossed over your boots. You’re some fabled creature, come from somewhere else. He could see it. No woman shined like you did, at least not how he saw things.

Just like he imagined, he rolls his pants up and tosses his boots aside, the spurs jingle when they hit the ground. The light catches the river’s surface, shades of yellow and green, the earth's gentle brown. You’re excited to see him join you, taking his hand that he holds out to you, pressed to his belly and chest, just where you belong.

“You like it, sweetheart?” He mumbles, really fishing for compliments. He knows you do but he’d love to hear you say it.

“I love it, Arthur, how could you say I wouldn’t? Sometimes, you’re a silly man,” you laugh, sway with him in the river. Birds sing, the water is cool, it’s perfect. He pulls you up to a shallower part of the ford, the sun forms a halo around you, reminds him you’re pure heaven and he couldn’t let you go.

“I have something else for you,” his voice is shaky instead of the easy confidence he likes to portray himself as. You look up excitedly but the dazzling smile slips off your face, you're shocked as he pulls a ring from his satchel and kneels down in the river.

“I-uhhh…I-“ he had really planned all of this and didn’t think of a single word to say. He can't bear to look up, he’s sure he’ll lose his nerve. “I haven’t loved…anyone like I love you,” the ring looks tiny and pathetic in his fingers. They’re also calloused to hell but he continues anyway. “There ain’t anyone else for me in this world but you. I just wish I was a better man, you deserve more than I can give but… if you would have me,” he looks up and your hands cover your mouth and tears leak over your fingers.

He really had ruined everything, hadn’t he? How was he supposed to go on living with you? What would he tell Hosea? His face falls and his heart cracks but he’d be glad to take you back home and disappear for a few days.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, don’t know what I thought,”

“Arthur, just please…” you hold out your left hand. You wipe your tears, trying to compose yourself and when he sees your smile, your hand over your right cheek, he lets himself ease. “Nothing would make me happier than to be- to be your wife, Arthur, you are…you’re the best man I know,” you wiggle your fingers excitedly and he slips the ring over your ring finger. He stays stunned, kneeled in the water, his pants soaking it all up but he couldn’t care less.

The ring looks so perfect on you. He holds your hand, kissing it like a knight of old, looking at him down on his knee, still crying but that brightness in your eyes is all he needs. Your giggle makes him smile at you too. And you drop to embrace him, tucking into his chest, arms around his neck. You murmur his name, rub his back. Tangle your fingers in his hair. He settles with you, surrounded by your unmistakable presence, basking in it. Holds you tighter, trying to not squeeze the air out of you. He breathes you in, holding you through your overwhelmed clinging, wiping your tears on his shoulder.

You pull back a little, enough to kiss him, his relief is groaned into your mouth. He loses track of himself and slips, sitting in a river with you in his arms, giggling more into his kiss.

You sit with him on the banks, trying to dry out after he tipped over. So much for his fancy shirt. He thinks the both of you will look half drowned by the time he brings you back to camp but he isn’t sure he wants to go back. Just you and him for a few days sounds rather enticing. You keep looking at your ring, leaned into his shoulder. A pleased little smile blooms over your face. How can he not smile at how beautiful you look, hair wet at the ends, warm light casting its glow over you.

You look up at him, with a look that says you’re gonna cry again but you just give him a teary smile.

“I’m a lucky bastard, get to call you mine,” You wrap one tiny hand over his neck when you kiss him slow and deep, letting him consume the very air in your lungs, grip over your body to feel it. You moan just softly enough to pull on his need for you. But you part ways for you to continue.

“Did you really think I’d say no?” you give him a sad frown. As if upset that he would think such a thing of you. You brush your fingers against his skin. He looks away.

“You wouldn’t have been the first,” you sigh.

“Who could say no to Arthur Morgan?” You ask no one in particular but he huffs a small laugh.

“Many people,” a joking tone tinges his words. But then he dips towards the sentimental. “Don’t even remember, really, all I think about is you, darlin’…” You laugh before coming closer, unable and unwilling to part from him. He knows he’s a hundred and one percent sap but he lets himself melt in your presence.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t me,” you wiggle your left hand in his face. He chuckles a little at your cute little fingers. “I’m glad…it means I get you all to myself,” The joy is boundless in his chest, he could light the night like a lightning bug with the flame in his heart.

“Arthur, I… I… sometimes I don’t have the words to tell you how much I love you,” you lean onto him. He shakes his head with what he’s sure looks like a stupid grin on his face. He wasn’t sure this would be in the cards for him but here he is, with you.

“Every part of me loves you, honey,” is all he has to say, paling in comparison to the pure power of your own words over him. They tumble clumsily from his mouth but you pull him down for kisses anyway. Your teasing ‘do you?’ has him nodding between your giggles and wet kisses.

Thank you so much for leaving me this request, I loved writing it!! It was so much fun and I really had fun including some parts of rdr1 map that were really special to me and brought me back to when I was a kid playing that game 🥹🥹🥹🥲🥲🥲❤️❤️❤️ any feedback is appreciated and thanks for reading 🥰🫶

#red writes #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan x you #red dead redemption 2 x reader #high honor arthur morgan #high honor arthur morgan x reader #x reader #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x fem reader

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flawssy-227 · 2 days ago

Text

Fogwell’s pt.1 Matt murdock x f!reader

pairing: College!matt murdock x fem!reader

a/n: this is a repost from almost THREE years ago on my old blog! since the new daredevil is coming out soon... maybe I'll revisit my favorite hell's kitchen baby boy.

I will always do my best to leave the reader description as vague as possible (albeit female, but I am a woc, so will also always have woc in mind in my writing)

WC: 1.3k

Warnings: mention of beer, language

You remembered the first time you met him.

It was a Sunday at Fogwell’s, the gym was closed except for a private training session you had held earlier, some women from a hair salon in Hell’s Kitchen wanting to learn self defense.

You heard the little bell chime above the front door that signaled someone was coming in.

“We’re closed,” you called out without turning around. You were preoccupied with taking off your hand wraps as you heard him tentatively tap his way into the gym.

“Oh, sorry,” he started. “I was hoping I could speak with the owner.”

“You’re lookin’ at her,” you stated definitively. You took in his appearance, tall, somewhat built, a slight blush crossing his cheeks, and stubble you almost wanted to reach out and run your fingers across. He was cute you thought, as you tried searching his eyes before realizing they were pointed downward, a walking stick clutched tightly in his hands. “What can I help you with?”

“You don’t sound like the owner of a boxing gym in the middle of Hell’s Kitchen,” the man cocked his head to the side with a small smirk.

You scoffed a bit. “It’s my uncle’s gym, but he is on an extended vacation in Florida. Till he comes back, if he comes back, I’m the owner-operator,” you stated matter of factly. “You gonna question me or tell me what you want?” you said as you finished unwinding your hand wraps.

His small smirk extended into a full grin as he took a step closer to you and extended his hand for you to shake. “I’m Matt. I uh, I wanted to see if I could train here?”

You shook his hand, large and warm in yours. “Yeah, sure. We have open gym from 11-4, Monday through Saturday, kickboxing classes during the week at 5, boxing after that…” you trailed off. “What are you looking for?”

“Something more… private, actually.”

Now it was your turn to cock your head questioningly. As if he could feel it, he started speaking again.

“Even though I’m blind, I can feel people watching me. I know they’re wondering what someone like me is doing at a boxing gym, but I don’t need the judgement or little comments they make that they think I can’t hear. Plus my dad used to box here, way back in the day. I just want to be able to train in peace, privately. After hours?” he explained.

“After hours?”

“Just a couple of days a week. I’ll stay out of your way. I promise.”

There was sincerity in his voice as you weighed your options. He seemed perfectly nice, innocent even. You usually stayed late in the gym most nights anyway, either looking over Fogwell’s books or training by yourself. Matt training after hours wouldn’t really impact you either way, plus, if you were being honest, you could use all the extra help financially.

“I’ll tell you what, you can stay today. I’ll be in the office, working on some things. Use the gym, do whatever you want, and I’ll make a decision after. Does that sound fair?”

Matt nodded his head, still clutching his walking stick. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“No worries, Matt.” You began walking your way back to your office before turning around again. “You’re a Murdock, right?”

Matt was in the middle of unzipping his jacket when he turned to look back at you quizzically.

“You said your dad trained here. It was Jack, right? Jack Murdock?”

He slowly nodded back at you.

You walked backward to your office, taking in the man in front of you. “Nice to meet you, Murdock.”

That was about 5 weeks ago, and Matt had been making regular appearances in your gym ever since. He would show up after hours a few times during the week and on weekends, sometimes giving you a call and begging, pleading you to come back and unlock the gym for him. You always would, knowing he would slip you a few extra dollars or bring you a 6-pack of beer to show his gratitude. You knew it wasn’t the only reason you would go out of your way to let Matt into Fogwell’s, but he didn’t have to know that.

You had a quickly developing crush on him. He was sweet, kind, and smart. Not hard to look at, either. He would flirt with you sometimes too, you were sure of it. Complimenting your perfume, praising your generosity. Sometimes you felt like he could read your mind, calling out your name or coming into the office every time you would daydream about him. You would always ask him to stay later when he brought you beer, too. Sometimes he would, and you two would spend an extra hour sitting around and talking about life. You really began to look forward to his calls, feeling a little lonely if you didn’t hear from him for a couple of days.

There were other reasons you wanted to see him, too. He would do things, when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Things that made you question how much his disability really affected him. So, when he gave you a call at 9 PM on a Saturday, begging, no, pleading you to open up the gym for him, you immediately said yes.

He was waiting for you at the front door, body perking up as he heard you approaching.

“You got here fast,” he said.

“Murdock, you know I live upstairs.”

“I know, I know. I’m just surprised you didn’t have plans. It is Saturday, after all.”

You scoffed as you held the door open for him. “Here to make me feel bad or to train?”

He laughed as he made himself comfortable in the gym. He took off his hoodie and you made a sharp inhale at his toned stomach. Was it just you, or was he getting ripped?

“Can I ask you a question?” you asked, walking toward the ring in the center of the gym.

“Sure,” he said, rolling his neck and shaking out his muscles.

“You ever think about getting in the ring?” You hopped up onto the platform and lowered the middle rope to climb in.

Matt looked at you, a smile tugging on his lips. “Can’t say that I have. Might not be easy for me to see who I’m fighting, on account of the no seeing thing.”

“Humor me,” you said, trying to take a slow deep breath as the shirtless man made his way toward you.

Matt walked to the ring, reaching his hand out to feel for the platform before climbing into it himself.

You slowly walked around the ring while Matt stayed close to the ropes, trying to decide the best way to approach your theory.

“I’ve been watching you these past few weeks,” you started, centering yourself directly across from him.

His eyebrows quirked up at your confession. “Oh?”

You nodded your head. “You’d probably be a tough opponent. Natural ability, a lot of fight in you.”

Matt’s smile grew bigger, his chest puffing out slightly at your compliment. He was clearly about to make some clever, flirty remark back at you, as he always did, but you took advantage of his distracted state and slid your keys out of your pocket, throwing them straight at his head.

You watched as his brows furrowed, only slightly, his head popping straight up. You don’t know it, but Matt feels the breeze shift in the gym when your arm quickly moves to throw the keys, he smells your deodorant, the fragrance being released because of the little bits of friction caused by your movement, and he tastes the metallic of the keys as they fly through the air.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting. You had a feeling, but you were still surprised to see Matt clutching your keys directly in front of his eyes. He looks at you, eyes pointed slightly downward, a devilish smirk plastered on his face, knowing you caught him.

“I fucking knew it!”

would you guys like more Matt? I have a very very old angsty wip that I'm tempted to finish if anybody is interested!

#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #daredevil x reader #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil born again

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rekino2114 · 8 hours ago

Note

How about Accidentally switching jerseys with the Manshine City girls?

Accidentally switching jerseys with the manshine city girls

A/n:Technically, I should have done the same prompt but with the bastard münchen girls first, but since there are a lot more characters there, I'll just do that next Sunday and do this first. Also I did male reader for this since that's how I did it in the pxg post but sorry if that's not what you wanted (also if the anon who requested the same thing with the bastard münchen girls reads this I'd like it if you let me know if you want male or gn reader)

Fem!seishiro nagi

"Hey nagi"

"............."

"Nagi!"

"............."

"NAGI!!!"

"..........."

Fed up with her friend ignoring her rei sighed and took the phone out of Nagi's hands

"Wha- hey I was playing, give it back"

"You can't use the phone we're literally about to go on the field"

Nagi sighed heavily and reassumed her permanent bored expression

"Do I really have to play? I don't feel like it"

"Why?"

"I wanna play games. I almost have enough points to go up a rank....if you give me my phone"

"I already said no, take it up with Prince if you don't wanna play"

"No.....talking with him would be such a hassle.....can you do it?"

"No"

The white haired girl sighed once against as she put her hands behind her head and started laying down on the floor of the changing room

"The team we're fighting is so weak though, I don't care about them. Going up against weak people is such a hassle"

She closed her eyes as rei looked at her annoyed before coming up with an idea

"But if you play you can impress y/n"

At the mention of your name, nagi opened one eye with as much interest as her expression could show

"Imagine how impressed he'd be if he saw you doing your best even against weaker teams, I'm sure he'll love you even more"

Nagi's mind drifted to all the cuddles and gaming sessions you would give her if she impressed you, so she decided to stand up and face rei

"OK I'll do it"

".........wait really?"

"Yeah, for y/n"

"Oh.....ok.......it was that easy?"

"What?"

"Nothing"

"OK.......do you think y/n would be more impressed if I did a bicycle kick or if I trap the ball really cool like usual?"

"I....don't know, just see during the game"

"Hm, I'll probably do both"

"OK, so put on the jersey and let's go"

"Oh........can you help me find it?"

".....isn't it in your bag?"

"Yeah......can you help me find it?"

"You.....you don't know where it is?"

"To be honest, I just took my phone out of it and threw it somewhere, I forgot where"

".............."

After a while of searching for nagi's bag (while the girl in question did absolutely nothing to help) rei found it thrown under one of the benches with most of the content spilled out of it so she just took the jersey that was nearby and gave it to her friend

"Oh thanks"

"It's.....nothing just put it on"

"......can you help me?"

".......what?"

"Can you help me put it on?"

".......if you tell me y/n helps you put your clothes on I swear i'll-"

"Why are you making it sound like such a big deal? He already saw all of my body"

"Yeah ok but.......why?"

"Putting clothes on is-"

"Such a hassle?......nevermind it's my fault for asking"

".....so are you gonna-"

"No"

The lazy genius sighed and finally started to put the jersey on. When she was finished, she looked at rei and gave her a thumbs up

"Finally. Let's go-......."

"Is something wrong?"

"......that's not your jersey is it?"

".....what?"

"Look it's so tight, the number on the shorts is not even yours"

Nagi looked down at her body and noticed what her friend was talking about

"Oh yeah......this is y/n's"

"......what?"

"The number, it's y/n's"

"....and why was y/n's jersey in your bag?"

"Probably cause it's actually his"

"I.......I won't ask anymore questions, just go switch jerseys"

"......can I not? It would be such a ha-"

"Please nagi just go"

"........fine"

Nagi went outside of her locker room and into yours, where she found you talking with some other teammates and approached you

"Oh hey nagi what are you-"

"Give me your jersey"

".......what?"

"We switched, this is yours"

"Oh did we? Sorry"

"It's not your fault, can you help me take this off though......please?"

"Oh ok"

You looked at your other friends for a bit and awkwardly told them to look away which they did, so you helped nagi put her clothes on, which she rewarded you for with a cheek kiss, and put yours on too

"OK we're done now"

"Cool"

"Let's go"

"Yeah......thanks, I don't know what I'd do without you"

"It's nothing sei, I would do any for you"

"....me too....as long as it's not too much of a hassle"

You laughed a bit and kissed her forehead as she held your hand while walking through the door

Fem!reo mikage

"Can you believe it? She continued hitting on him even after he told her he was taken"

".............."

"I swear every time y/n and I hang out there's some girl wanting to get with him, I get he's hot but he's mine!"

"............"

"Hey nagi, are you listening?"

".......not really"

Rei sighed and looked back at nagi, who was completely focused on her phone as always

"Whatever"

She grabbed a hair tie and looked at herself in the mirror before starting to style her hair in a bun

"By the way, do you know any restaurants nearby? I wanted to bring y/n somewhere nice tonight"

"Oh, can I come too?"

".....it's a date, like for me and y/n.....only"

"Oh.....I can bring my boyfriend too, then we can have a double date"

".......You're doing this just because I'm going to pay and you want free food right?"

"....yeah, you always say yes when I ask you for money to spend on dates anyway, this shouldn't be different"

"I guess.....fine you can come just don't disturb me and y/n too much"

Nagi hummed in approval and cheered a bit because she got another kill in the game.

"Yay! Kill streak! I think I got a new record of kills"

"Hehe, that's nice"

When she finished styling her hair rei looked one last time in the mirror and turned back towards nagi

"OK I'm ready, we can go now"

Her friend nodded, and the two of them started walking towards the field, stopping once they saw chigiri stretching on the sideline

"hi chigiri"

"Oh, hi nagi, rei, what's up?"

"Nothing much.....y/n isn't here yet?"

"No, he said he couldn't find.....his jersey, hey rei do you mind turning around?"

"Eh? Why?"

"I wanna check something"

The chameleons girl did as chigiri said and she was met with a sigh coming from behind her

"So that's where it is"

"What?"

"Y/n's jersey, you're wearing it?"

"...............I AM?"

"Yep, I genuinely have no idea how you didn't figure it out before"

"Nagi! You were behind me this whole time, why didn't you say anything?"

Nagi, who had in the meantime sat on one of the benches and started playing again, looked up from her phone slightly to see her friend's angry expression, only to look back down immediately after

"Ah.....it was an accident? I thought it was something you decided together or something like that"

"....and you still didn't say anything?"

The lazy genius simply shrugged as the mikage heir's anger quickly subsided as she was very familiar with nagi's attitude having known her for this long

"I'll just go give this to him"

"Yeah, good idea"

Rei went to the men's locker room, where she found you still looking around for your jersey

".....heyyyy darling....can I tell you something"

"Oh hi rei, sure"

".......I might have actually taken your jersey"

"........I see"

"It was an accident, I'm sorry I don't even know how it happened"

"It's fine, I don't mind"

You took out her own jersey that you found in your bag, and she did the same as you started changing

"How much do you want for the inconvenience?"

"What do you mean?"

"That was probably pretty frustrating. I can pay you back if you want....literally"

"Oh no it's fine"

"If you're worried about me or something don't be, you know I'd spend all my money on you"

"No no you really don't need to"

You pressed a kiss to rei's cheek, which caused the purple haired girl to blush

"All I need is you"

"......fine but tomorrow I'm taking you shopping and you can't say no"

You giggled as you two held hands and started walking forward

"I guess I can't complain about that"

Fem!hyoma chigiri

Everything was relatively chill in the manshine city's women changing room, nagi was on her phone as usual, and rei was watching her play

"Oh look a rare item"

"Ohhhh so lucky"

The two high fived as they focused more on the game......however their focus was broken by an angry chigiri storming out of the bathroom

"OK which one of you took my hair conditioner?"

"......what?"

"It's not in my bag, so one of you must have taken it"

"No I mean, why are you styling your hair before a match, like right before, you already put your jersey on"

"Cause I need to, I can't go there with trashy hair, especially if y/n's there"

"Does he really care that much?"

"Well I do, and I care about the thousands of spectators who will see us, how can we look like the power couple we are if we don't look absolutely stunning?"

".....ok....anyway it wasn't us, my hair is already naturally beautiful-"

"That's debatable at best"

Rei narrowed her gaze at chigiri but continued talking

"And nagi doesn't really....do body care without her boyfriend"

A sigh escaped chigiri's lips as she turned around and went in the bathroom

"Fine I guess I should look more closely"

"Wait chigiri, did you ask prince to change numbers or something?"

"No why?"

"........can you move your hair out of the way?"

"What?"

"I wanna see the name on the jersey you're wearing"

The red panther moved her hair to the right, allowing rei to see the name on the jersey clearly now

"......why.....are you wearing y/n's jersey?"

".....what?"

"Yeah that's his last name"

The red-haired woman quickly took off the jersey to confirm what rei said, and she was disappointed to see it was indeed your jersey

"What? How did-......wait then that probably means that the reason I didn't find my conditioner-"

"Was because you took his bag"

"......I'm gonna go give this back to him.....you two don't you dare say anything about this"

The two girls nodded, and chigiri quickly made her way to the other dressing room (very, very quickly with her speed)

"Hi hyoma, what's wrong?"

"my jersey"

"What do you mean?"

"We switched bags. I'm actually wearing your jersey"

"......oh..sorry for not noticing......I just thought you left your hair products in my bag"

"It's fine, here's yours"

She started to take off her jersey as you did the same

"And here's yours"

You two put everything back on and double checked just to make sure it was the right ones

"Seems like everything's OK now"

"Yeah, sorry again"

"I told you it's ok......but can you give me my conditioner now I need it"

"Why? Your hair always look perfect"

"It's because I always look perfect to you"

"Yeah because you are"

"Then let me show you how perfect these legs are"

"..........."

"I-I mean how fast they are. I mean speed and you knew it"

"Yeah, yeah don't worry"

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visionsofyouandme · 16 hours ago

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Alleviate

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: Joel comes home from work, stressed after a long day. You offer some relief.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2.6k

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: No Outbreak!AU. Joel Miller x afab!reader. Domesticity. Joel is stressed and therefore a little needy. Swearing. Age gap or not (you decide!). Reader has hair that can be pulled. SMUT (18+ MNDI). Dry humping. Sub!Joel. Oral (m!receiving). Unprotected p in v. Creampie. Not proofread (oops).

𝙰/𝙽: Here's a little something for this Sunday. Delays for Heartlines and cowboy!Joel are imminent- got some personal stuff going on. But, I'm going to do my best to get them up and running here soon! Hope you enjoy this lil one shot of helpin' our man Joel out... Enjoy!

Joel slammed the car door and sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face as he walked up the steps to home.

Well, your home.

He had gone to his own, yes, to shower and clean up. But, he felt a longing that had been in him since yesterday, and it had finally materialized once the day had faded to night.

Joel had been seeing you for quite some time now. Tommy had told Joel that he was inviting a “pretty young woman” to the Super Bowl party last year. Ever since, he’s had a hard time driving you from his mind.

It had started off innocent enough- he would help with things that constantly seemed to break- the air conditioner, the washer and dryer, other appliances. He had come around enough that he stayed for a drink or two afterwards. And then he would stay the night.

Then one night after far too many drinks for either of your preferences, you kissed him.

Ever since, it’s never been the same.

So, he found himself dragging himself to your house despite a long day. Not everyday, of course, as you weren’t his wife or anything- but enough that you stopped being surprised when he showed up. And eventually gave him a key to let himself in.

He took said key and did just that- opening your door and pushing inside, hand splayed against the door. He took a few careful steps in, seeing as it was late at night and he didn’t want to wake you. He would probably crawl into bed with you after raiding your kitchen, and call it a night.

When he rounded to the kitchen, he stopped. You stood by the stove, wearing nothing but underwear and one of his buttoned flannels, holding a spatula. You turned to him, and he saw a surprised expression flash across your face that quickly changed to happiness.

“Evening.” You said, and he nodded, his eyes still lingering on your bare legs. He walked to the kitchen table not too far away, and pulled a chair out, sitting down. You took off the food from the burner, having finished cooking the eggs at just the right time.

“Rough day?” You questioned when he said nothing, and looked back at him. His eyes finally flicked back to your own, and he shrugged. Smirking, you walk over to him. Pushing your hands through his graying hair, you tilt his head up to meet your gaze.

“You know, if you can’t tell me what's wrong, I can’t help.” You chided him, and he breathed softly, leaning his head down and into your midsection. Your eyebrows knitted, but you pressed a hand to his hair, the other hand on his shoulder.

“‘M just tired. Fuckin’ customers and their shit. Y’know?” He said, his voice a mumble, but you caught it anyway. You nodded, looking down and pressed a kiss to his hair.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. He lifted his head, his brown eyes normally hard were now soft, the line between his eyebrows gone.

“Tell me about your day.” He said, his hand moving to touch your thigh, wrapping around the back of it gently. If Joel was anything, he was a gentle lover. He liked being in control, but respected your boundaries, and only went as hard as you instructed. You were the deciding factor on how hard or soft it would be, and you liked it that way.

So, you took the moment and slid into his lap, straddling his hips. Your toes brushed the ground, and you raised your eyebrows.

“Well, it’s Saturday. Woke up, watered the plants, took a shower…” you recounted, and began to run your hands through his hair, and he closed his eyes, leaning his head back slightly. You grin as you could see the hard exterior melt away even more, and you massaged his scalp gently. His hands found their way to your waist, where he held you with increasing pressure as you touched him.

“… made lunch, read some of my book. Caught up on a few episodes of…” you continued, your voice soft and even. You tested something as you ran your hands through his hair, and tugged on his locks.

He didn’t speak, but he did stiffen, and his head moved straight as he looked down at you. You regarded him with an even expression, but secretly wondered if he wasn’t in the mood tonight.

His grip on your waist loosened, and he leaned back in his seat. You feigned a resigned look, but he then pulled you close to his chest rather abruptly. He pressed his hand to the small of your back, and you could feel his cock press through the fabric of his jeans. You let out a soft sigh, and began to move your hips just slightly against his.

Your panties offered little barrier between your core and the seam of his jeans. And that thrilled you.

“Jesus,” he muttered, your name coming shortly after. You couldn’t help but smirk, your hands finding his hair again and you continued to move your hips into his. His breath came out in a hiss, and he held fast to your waist, bringing you down more onto his clothed member.

“You alright?” You questioned, though it comes out like a taunt. He looked down at you, and you saw a darkness within them that you had seen on a handful of occasions. You tilted your head to the side as if to ask the question again, and he took your chin in his hand with a bit of force.

“More than alright.” He said, his voice low. He then pulled you towards him and kissed you with fervor. So much so that you began to lean back from the pressure, but he caught you by wrapping his arm around your waist. He began to lift his hips against yours, and you let out a soft whine.

“God-“ you began, but he kept his lips locked with yours, and it quite literally took your breath away. He licked at your bottom lip, asking for entrance. When you didn’t respond to his liking, he slid his tongue between your lips anyway.

Your hands rested on the nape of his neck, hands threading through whatever hair you could find there. You felt a hand wander from your waist, down to your ass, and he gave it a firm squeeze, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

He continued to buck his hips up to yours, and you swore you could feel a wetness pooling between your legs. You weren’t sure if it was from you or Joel’s precum.

“Sweetheart,” he panted against your lips, pulling away to look at you with lust blown eyes. “I’m gonna need you. Now.”

You were floored. He never really was this… forward. Normally he gave some subtle hints, or let you take the lead on things. But this time? It was very, very apparent that he was not playing patient tonight.

“But, the food-”

His face told you, “fuck the food.”

So, you could only nod, trying to hide the light smile as he picked you up by your waist. You wrapped your legs around him securely, beginning to pepper kisses on his neck.. Joel’s hand tightened around your waist, the other hand moving to your thigh.

He walked into your bedroom and pretty much threw you onto the bed. You bounced lightly, and looked up at him as he began to undo the buttons of the flannel you wore. You watched him in amusement for second, until his face turned pained, desperate. You put your hands over his, and his eyes moved up to yours. You raised your eyebrows,

“Let me take care of you,” you said quietly, and he shook his head minutely, and your grip tightened. You raised your eyebrows, daring him to try to turn you away again. His hands eventually fell from the buttons and you stood up, putting your hands on his waist and turning him around, pushing him to sit on the bed. He watched you with half-lidded eyes, and you could see his shoulders drop just a bit. You ran your hands down his chest gently, and then slowly sunk to his knees. His hands immediately flew to the edges of the bed, gripping it tightly. You made slow work of opening his belt buckle, then sliding the zipper down. You could feel how hard he already was under your hands, and when you pulled him from the confines of his jeans, it stood at attention eagerly.

You glanced up at him, and took him in hand, giving him a few pumps of preparation. He sucked in a breath, and you wiggled an eyebrow up at him.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing. Lay back.” you said, and he shook his head,

“No. Wanna see you-” he said, but it contorted into a groan as you swiped your tongue over his tip, then up and down the shaft. He shuddered, and you gave another experimental lick over his head, lapping up the precum.

“Suit yourself.” you said with a teasing grin before taking him into your mouth. You took him bit by bit, hearing him breathe above you, going from pained to pleasured. You took him down to the base, his coarse hairs almost rubbing your nose. You began to move your head up and down, allowing the saliva to coat his cock, making it easier to suck.

“Jesus. Fuck-” he began, and you groped for his hand and placed it overtop of your head, urging him to hold you. He took the command, and threaded his fingers through your hair gently, but it tightened at a particular harsh suck, your cheeks hollowing out.

There we go.

You could hear him trying to hold back the groans, the soft pants that began to come from his lips. But, you alternated between sucking and licking, enjoying your time with him, drawing it out. You could feel him tensing beneath you, cock pulsing, and how he was struggling to hold back. His hand on your hair gripped tighter, and he then pulled you off of him with a force you never expected of him. You looked up at him, gasping for breath out of shock and exertion, and he pulled you to your feet.

“Please- Please, let me-” he began, and you bent down to kiss him hotly, and he lapped up the salty taste of his precum from your lips and mouth. You did your best to rid yourself of your underwear, breaking away to slide them down your legs as Joel lifted his hips to rid himself of his jeans and boxers.

You looked at him, and could see the most pitiful expression on his face. Submissive, begging, pleading. He had been like this before, but never this extreme. You somewhat liked it, having this much control over his pleasure.

But, you couldn’t deny him. Not when he looked at you like that.

He was about to move you to the bed when you took his shoulders and climbed into his lap for the second time that evening. You took his cock in hand, and positioned it underneath your weeping pussy. You could hear him sputter, give some kind of protest, but when you sunk onto his cock with ease, that shut him up pretty quick.

“I’m supposed to take care of you, remember?” you whispered, taking his face in your hands, only to see his eyes screwed shut tightly. He gave the slightest nod, and you let him adjust to the newfound sensation of the warmth and silkiness of your insides gripping him.

He said your name softly, barely a full breath, and you began to move your hips. His hand flew to your lower back, and brought you closer to him. He leaned his forehead on your shoulder, bucking his hips into yours as you took over most of the work. You swayed your hips back and forth, up and down, the wet squelching sounds filling the room. But, Joel’s groans and soft curses seemed to drown it out.

“So… fucking… good…” he groaned, and you kissed at his temple gently, a hand on his shoulder for more leverage as the other held onto his hair. He nosed his way down the flannel to the open portion of it, pushing it out of the way to begin to lap at your breast. When he took a nipple in his mouth, you gasped, your grip tightening in his hair. He groaned in response to the subtle movement of praise.

You began to move with a little more force, feeling your own peak come on. You weren’t hellbent on coming, wanting to take care of Joel first. But, his hand pressed at your lower back, then grabbed your ass roughly, his hips meeting yours with deeper thrusts.

“Come on, sweetheart, let me feel you,” he panted, and lifted his head to look at you. Eyes blown, lips swollen, hair disheveled, he looked like an image of lust.

And he was all yours.

The hairs of his base touched your clit just so, and you came down with a particularly hard movement, then another, then a third. He kissed at your neck, and you gave your first whimper of the evening as he began to suck lightly, knowing that it drove you insane.

You clenched around him, seeing stars, and exhaled a breath so deeply that you didn’t know you were holding. You felt him shudder underneath you, and he began to lift you off of him, knowing he was aching to come, but you held fast.

“In-Inside, inside, Joel,” you panted, sounding exactly like the desperate command you intended. You heard him curse a string of “fucks” softly, and then a groan that shook his chest as he came, his spend pumping into you in quick, long bursts. You continued your best to keep up the movement to prolong it, but your thighs were burning, and you were still reeling from your own orgasm.

He eventually still, his head pressed to your chest, his breathing trying to even out. You knew your heart was beating fast, and sweat collected on your brow. But, you just wanted to stay like this, wrapped up in his embrace, knowing you helped him in the best way you could.

When he lifted his head, you tilted his head up to you, and you smiled gently.

“Feel better?” you said, and he smiled just the slightest. He was still reeling from his high, so you gave him the benefit of the doubt and pressed a kiss to his lips. He gathered his bearings and kissed you back, and you slid off of his softening cock, both of you hissing at the loss of contact. You rose on shaky legs, his spend dripping down your inner thighs. You began to turn to the bathroom, and he pulled you towards him again. He took your cheek in his palm and brought you down to kiss you deeply, your breath swept away in his mouth.

You pulled away, looking down at him and ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it gently with a teasing smile.

“Yeah, I think you’ll make it through another day, Mr. Miller.” you giggled, and he stood up, pulling his shirt over his head before undoing the last couple of buttons on the flannel, backing you up to the bathroom.

“All thanks to you,” he said, and you shrugged with a prideful smile.

“I try my best,” you said, pausing at the threshold and leaned up to kiss his lips. You pulled away just a bit, and tilted your head up to meet his eyes, wrapping your arms around his middle. “Do you wanna join me-?”

“Way ahead of you, sweetheart.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miler fanfiction #joel miller x ofc #visionsfics #joel miller one shot #joel miller smut

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zoieru · 17 hours ago

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Mind-dump analysis of Sunday and Welt

Non-romantic, though you can see it that way if you want. Basically musings on their dialogue, body language, trauma responses and their views of the world. Based on my noggin, my experiences, and my knowledge on psych and philosophy. Mentions of trauma, and Aventurine. Spoilers for 3.0. Come chat with me about it in the ask box pls oml. (html broke read more link sorry)

So I was writing an Astral Express Sunday headcanon thing, and realised the part with welt I had more thoughts on than I could handle !!! So I decided to make a bigger breakdown of it from my perspective weeee. 1.7k more thoughts...hehe. Includes pics.

So, Sunday is essentially coming into this new world (the astral express lifestyle, the knowledge and involvement of other planets issues, everything not just Penacony) for the first time, and in a vulnerable state at that. He was trained and groomed to be who he was basically his whole life, and not just the positions of power and control, but his position he gave himself also of protector of his sister. That's been taken from him, all of it, his role, his direction, drive, everything. To say the man must feel lost is understatement of the century.

So when he is confronted with Welt Yang, a mysterious and stoic man who displays his intelligence by deciphering there's something up with his disguise, questions him on his motives, etc, but then seemingly confidently starts to trust him, he is...confused?

First, Welt says multiple times that he knows how he feels, he's had to leave a home quickly too, but doesn't elaborate. So his reasons are already determined at least somewhat by his empathy for Sunday. That is a lot for Sunday to work through. He mustn't have really related to anyone in his life, even his sister due to their vastly different experiences despite being in the same spot. To have someone, and quite quickly, especially after what he just did, sympathise, empathise, and relate to him...thats intriguing, and confusing, and probably a bit suspicious.

Further, when going to meet Robin, Sunday outwardly questions why Welt is giving him the privacy to speak to her, refusing to be a bystander for his benefit. Welt answers:

'i believe you're the kind of person that has the ability and desire to use everything to your advantage... but that everything does not involve Miss Robin'

Sunday pauses, and thanks him. It's confusing, unexpected, and yet another puzzle into Welt's character. I think this moment means an incredible amount to Sunday. Ultimately, his sister is everything to him, where everything started, and Welt has given him the space and freedom to do the thing he is so nervous for, he is dreading but must do, one of the hardest things he's probably ever done, say goodbye for an indeterminate amount of time. Who else has probably shown him this sort of seemingly genuine act of kindness, goodness, before? Probably no one. Plus, despite not really outwardly discussing his relationship with his sister with Welt before this, Welt shows an understanding of Sunday's care for her, to the point his usual nature and methods don't apply to Robin.

So that's why Sunday asks another question, after saying goodbye to Robin

He's starting to see himself in Welt, I believe, in some way, when he says 'I had a feeling that you would never give up on someone who needed help' which is reinforced by his 'help' of Sunday just now. But I think what Sunday is maybe confused about here is why him, why here. He is confused why they 'help' him, a 'nortorious fugitive' and a 'friend they never knew', rather than people in new worlds, people he deems perhaps deserve it more, people who he thinks Welt should care about. I believe, here, he is still viewing things zoomed out, from a grand perspective. He sees 'people' as an entity, much like how he did with his plan, saving them from misery by keeping them in the dream. But Welt goes on to explain that it's the people he meets that are his trailblaze, but on an individual and connection scale, not 'helping peopleTM' like he tried to.

And that means Sunday, it means Tingyun. Sunday even asks directly, then, 'why me?', and Welt repeats his previous answer. 'i know how you feel.' despite what he's done, he offers him empathy, help, and connection. It's alien to Sunday. He has heard the worst of people's deeds, was tormented by them, wanted to save them from themselves, yet Welt is just accepting him.

Then another thing, Welt sits in the audience watching Sunday become himself, say goodbye to his old self and everything he once knew, literally becoming whole again, and slightly unsure of how he exactly he will be once both halves combine. This moment is so so intimate, so deeply personal, perhaps the most personal I mean he's literally talking to himself, becoming himself, shedding everything he's ever known, starting a new life. And Welt isn't just watching. He says:

'Regardless of the outcome, you will have a witness. I'll be waiting for you in the audience.'

Here, he does multiple things. One, he is promising Sunday he will be here for him and almost continue to accept him in whatever shape or form after he's done, giving him the respect and time to do his thing, and the support he wasnt planning to get. Its like...almost a threat, saying he wont let him run away after, but not quite. its also a signal of protection. He is staying with Sunday through this obviously terrifying and massive moment, at a safe and respectful but supportive distance, something Sunday was planning to go through alone. Also, he says he'll wait for him. That's so...personal. ugh, it's too much. And the thing is, Sunday lets him, thanks him, wants him to be there. Trusts him enough to see him at almost a most vulnerable point in his life. Crazy stuff.

Plus, during this line, the camera zooms in on Welt's face for just a few seconds, emphasising how big this is.

Now I'm not sure if we should assume Welt can hear everything Sunday says to himself. The theatre is empty, afterall, but I dont know. Sunday says he's scared, says why he's scared, tells himself he doesn't like himself, parts of him. It's so goddamn personal, heart wrenching, truly. And there's a line here I want to discuss quick.

'to save more lives, you must first understand what they live for and what they die for. The best way to achieve this is through personal experience.''

This is a reflection of Welt's words, his reason for trailblazing. It shows he's taken them to heart, ponders them, realises that to truly help people like Welt does, he needs to know them, not see them as an entity from above.

Also, when done, Welt makes a gentle joke that covers the supportive gesture of his acceptance of 'either' of Sunday's selves. He almost dismissed the whole act as if it was casual, while subtly acknowledging it's significance, and gently showing his support, so it all doesn't make Sunday feel uncomfy.

'Well, how should I address you now? Mr Sunday or Mr Wonweek?'

I love it.

Then Sunday has the confidence to request staying with the Astral Express Crew. Knowing the others might hate the idea, but having enough confidence in the fact that Welt at least seems to want him there.

'You are one of my trailblazing goals.'

Sunday looks visibly touched by this statement. the feels.

So let's now skip to the Astral Express, where he's been on a while let's say.

After all this, Sunday and Welt almost have this unspoken deep connection somehow. They have shared a deeply personal moment for Sunday, and Welt has shared more with Sunday about himself than he ever has with anyone on screen that we've seen before.begins to respect Welt Yang quite tremendously really. Sunday now has time to sit, think, reflect, and probably torment himself with thoughts.

I think he has built this ridiculous level of respect for Welt, perhaps more than for most in his life. And also intrigue, confusion. He perhaps observes him. It is obvious Welt has a troubled and mysterious past, the extent of which is unknown but suggested, yet the man has a poise about him that seems stable, secure, confident. It intrigues him, maybe makes him a little envious even that despite this man having no set 'home', travelling the trailblaze with seemingly little control over things Sunday feels he would lose his mind over, he still seems confident in himself.

You ever feel like you're pretty self sufficient and able when alone or most of the time, but theres that one person where you're in their company and it's suddenly like all your brain function has dimmed and been transferred to them and they're now the 'thinker' and 'doer' and you're just there mostly looking pretty?? That's Sunday and Welt sometimes. Sunday was so used to being everything, controlling everything, seeing everything, that now he can relax that, or rather forced to let go of all that, as hard as that is, he finds himself inadvertently letting Welt take over a bit, observing and involving himself but Welt taking the lead. It's perhaps part of a trauma response to having to grow up too fast, to not being able to have had the points in life where you can trust and let someone have control for a while without risk. So as a result of this trust and acceptance he has built with Welt, his brain just sort of...relaxes a little. Welp.

That's displayed well in the infamous 'mom speak to the doctor for me pls' scene, I think. Cute.

Okay it's the end now, I could probably yap more but my thumbs hurt. One more musing though:

I wonder what it would be like for Sunday and Aventurine to meet, after all of that. They, ultimately, had a similar journey in terms of them making a big decision, a big 'attempt' at something bigger than themselves intricately linked to their identities and core beliefs, having to face parts of themselves along the way.

Now that Sunday has shed his 'grandiose' demeanour and plans, I wonder what it would look like for them to meet on equal terms. (Obviously not really knowing how this whole thing will have affected Aven coming out of it).

These two men, as literally mentioned in the 'combining selves' scene for Sunday in the theatre, are fundamentally opposed. One has been made to and has had to build his life and principles on control. One has had no choice to and built his life on luck, lack of control. It's such an interesting dichotomy to me.

There's also this interaction with Welt and Sunday before meeting Robin:

'I had a hunch and decided to try my luck. Seems I can be lucky sometimes'

'its not like you to leave things to luck'

'I'm trying to change too'

It's twice, in this long section, that Aventurine/luck is mentioned, at least. I wonder how he would view him should he know more, and now that he seems to have a certain begrudging acceptance and respect for luck/chance.

OKAY IM DONE FR NOW HAHAHA come discuss with me if u want :3 hope you enjoyed.

Here, take this, its not safe out there

(づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡

#hsr headcanons #hsr #sunday hsr #sunday #hsr sunday #penacony #hsr aventurine #welt yang #welt x sunday #astral express #hsr 3.0 #honkai star rail

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bitterfishiesstuff · 2 days ago

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Let's see if tumblr takes this down lol

Angel/demon au that was inspired by @letshareapapou (let me know if you don't want me tagging your every time I give credit. It's the easiest way I now of to link people to you).

Ficlet and greyscale ver under the cut

Tech frowned as he felt one of the souls tied to his church falter.

Sometimes it felt hopeless, the very human cycle of seeking redemption and falling back into temptation. A cycle as old as they existed.

What right did a demon have to preach of faith and love, when he'd fallen from grace for questioning and a supposed lack of emotion? Was he leading his small flock of wayward souls even further from finding their own paths? Did his very presence make them more likely to sin?

It was a possibility. Most angels insisted coruption was in demons very nature.

The rustle of feathers and the smell of gun oil, an odd scent for an angel Tech mused not for the first time, tugged at his senses just enough to pull him from the downward spiral he found himself in more and more often. Wracked with guilt, he didn't react when the angel touched his shoulder to straighten his robes.

"Humans fail. It's what they do." Crosshairs rasp did little to sooth, his words even less.

"... He was progressing. I assumed-" Tech froze as a chill arm wrapped around him. For as brightly as Crosshair could shine with grace, he was always far too cold.

"You'll get him back on track."

"I need to go to him."

"When you've calmed down." Crosshair countered firmly. His hand adjusted heavy robes, lovingly patched and added onto over the years. "Which I can help with.'

Pale wings dematerialized. Humans would only see two normal men if they had walked in on them, which couldn't happen. His home was filled with to many wards, angelic and demonic for a human to ever stumble in unwelcome. Tech could still see the golden wings framing Crosshairs halo though.

"My flock-"

"Will be here Sunday. Including your wayward lamb." The angel declared with such confidence Tech knew he was going to make sure of it personally. "Your tail is showing, and you're leaving scorch marks on your floor. If you go out to him now, he'll think he's damned and never come back."

Tech looked down to see cloven hoofs burned where his shoes had touched wood with a defeated sigh. "I have not earned your grace."

Crosshair smirked, his hands pushing off the robe he'd fussed over just a few minutes ago. "Silly preacher. Remember your sermons. Grace is given, all you have to do is ask."

Tech grabbed the hands undressing him, and held them tightly. He took his worries, inspected them, and then handed them to the high power that had cast him out. They still listened to him. They always had, even when he stepped too far from the light.

"Please."

#cloneshipping #clone shipping #clone/clone #clone ship #cloneship #fishiesdraws #star wars the bad batch #sw tbb #crosstech #clone force 99 #angel!crosshair #demon!tech #i love drawing them so much #spicy

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brainrot-jikan · 3 days ago

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no one needs this im sure but just u know, citing my work (for my upcoming sunday/welt brainrot)

sunday, upon being caught by welt (still so polite?? boy ur killing me)

welt, upon confirming his suspicions (the most blunt/rude ive EVER seen welt be, and for very good reason but hot damb if the heel turn didn't do something to me)

welt, self assigning himself sunday's personal escort/guard/warden

welt, sTICKING UP FOR SUNDAY IN FRONT OF HIS COMPANIONS

i am so normal. i am super, super normal about this.

#hsr #hsr sunday #hsr welt #welt x sunday #sunday x welt #there's more later but these were the parts that Spoke To Me #giving sunday a second chance based on NOTHING #oh but. that bit at the end #after sunday fights himself #and says that bit about how they could have been on the same side if they weren't on different paths #and welt says what do you mean? we can still be on the same side #DEAD. DECEASED.#there's. something here. about welt having previously been in a place mentally where he had completely given up #and he sees that in sunday and wants to help him out of it #and sunday still being stuck in that place and unable to see ahead unable to see anyone as anything more than an adversary #and welt reaching out to him directly and telling him it doesn't have to be that way #if only he'd just reach back #and then sunday against all odds #against his entire history and upbringing #letting himself be vulnerable and reaching back #sunwelt #weltday #those are both not great are we sure about those ship names guys

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feroluce · 5 months ago

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For reasons to be expanded upon at a later date (because I love the little bits about Boothill and possible paranoia/betrayal canon gives us so very dearly HNGH) I think Boothill like... He won't let himself fall into disrepair or anything of course, but he reeeeeeeeeeally does not like letting other people poke around at his body. It's a necessary evil to him. He does whatever maintenance and repairs he can himself. He started out with a massive knowledge deficit, simply because he didn't really have any exposure to that kind of technology until he left Aeragan-Epharshal, but he's taught himself a lot since then, he worked really hard at it!

Anyway, the point being, Boothill generally isn't super trusting of people.

But I think he would come to make an exception for Himeko, since he trusts Dan Heng a lot, and Himeko is one of Dan Heng's once-in-a-lifetime dearly beloved companions.

Himeko is so unflappable, I don't think she would even bat an eye about anything he throws at her, either. Like she enters the Parlor Car one morning (she's always the first one up) and Boothill is already there, waiting for her.

"Mornin', Madam Navigator."

"Good morning, Mr. Boothill."

And despite the fact that he blatantly broke into the Express (Pom-Pom is NOT happy about this JDKSAJDSKL), Boothill tips his hat, greets her politely, and is nothing but respectful when he says he has a favor to ask of her. Except it won't stay a favor long, of course- he has every intention of paying it back.

Himeko never agrees to things blindly, but she does bring up that all the knowledge Boothill contributed during the Charmony Festival was essential to preventing the universe from being pulled into Ena's Dream. And they were able to hold onto the Jade Abacus because Boothill used Tiernan's burial relic to summon the Galaxy Rangers instead. The Astral Express owes him a debt of gratitude, and besides, he's a friend of Dan Heng's. Of course she'll try to help him.

Boothill fidgets a bit, quickly brushes off the thanks, and tells Himeko he's having a problem with error codes. He keeps getting the same one, seemingly at random times, but the darn thing has no obvious cause. Dan Heng mentioned Himeko had been the one to rebuild the Astral Express. He knows it ain't the same, but it's not like he's askin' for any major repairs or nothin'. He was wonderin' if she could just take a look, maybe offer him some insight, since she seems to be somethin' of a mechanical wonder.

So Himeko walks him back to a another car, where she goes to tinker with machines without them crowding her bedroom. It's all neatly laid out and organized, and it only takes a second for Himeko to locate some specific device with a long cord. Instead of plugging it in herself, she holds the end of it out to him, like an offer rather than a demand, and Boothill visibly relaxes a bit. He still eyes it just a little warily for a second, but he accepts and plugs it into the port on his side.

Himeko pulls up the list of all recent errors, and they really are all the same. Boothill has had multiple temperature alarms over the past couple of weeks since the Charmony Festival, and they know it's not the environment, because Penacony is mostly dreamscape and kept mild year-round. The long-forgotten natural deserts are too far away.

Boothill is staring from the corner of his one good eye, so Himeko turns the hologram to let him see what she's doing easier. They don't appear to be false alarms. His internal temperature spikes and then slowly lowers again, high enough that if it lasted it would eventually cause damage.

One option is for her to start rooting through personal data, figuring out what he was doing at the time of each code, and tracing cause and correlation.

Instead, Himeko reads out the timestamps, and asks Boothill if he minds sharing what was happening around him when it occured.

Two weeks ago: He and Dan Heng went to explore Dreamflux Reef and found a bar- nice place, good atmosphere. Woman runnin’ it was a doll. Boothill left fer not even two minutes to get them drinks (Dan Heng knows like nothin’ about liquor, Madam Navigator, can you believe this guy) and when he came back, someone had already stolen his seat and was hittin’ on Dan Heng! Dan Heng didn't even care, just shooed ‘em off. Boothill laughed and said not to let him get in his way if he wanted to meet someone. Dan Heng looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Why would he want to leave with someone else, when he came here to be with Boothill?

Twelve days ago: While laying low- er, just rustlin’ up some grub- in the Moment of Blue, Boothill passed Dan Heng with March and Caelus playin’ on the beach, buildin’ sandcastles and the like. When he passed by again almost two hours later, they were still out there, with Dan Heng pullin’ March through the water on her inner tube and Caelus hangin’ off the back of it. He swam so fast! You'd think he was part water snake or somethin’. He looked happier ‘n a cat in a sunbeam… He has a nice smile, doesn't he?

Eleven days ago: Boothill was killin’ time in Dreamflux Reef when he turned the corner down a shady alley and saw Dan Heng, surrounded by three men demandin’ “protection money.” None of ‘em stood a chance, they were all on the ground before Boothill even blinked! So cool! Boothill wants to see that spear of his closeup- Anyway, Dan Heng stepped on one of ‘em on his way out, hahaha! Boothill stepped on the same guy a second time as he hurried to catch up.

Eight days ago: Here on the Express, actually. Boothill had mentioned bein’ curious about the archives, and Dan Heng personally invited him.

(“I remember that day, I saw you in the hall.” “Was there any problem with the heating that day?” “No, none. I don't think the temperature has anything to do with these error codes. I have a different theory, keep going.” “If ya say so.”)

Boothill was fascinated by an entry on aeons, and from a single question he asked about Lan, the two of ‘em ended up talkin’ fer hours. About aeons and Paths and Emanators, Acheron and Self-Annihilators, the Sea of Nihility, Tiernan, the Nameless and the Galaxy Rangers, their burial relics and their customs. Dan Heng finally just started writin’ and editin’ the entries in real time, with Boothill pointin’ things out and tellin’ him what to add in. They were at it so late that Boothill ended up sleepin' on a couch in one of the cars.

He'd figured there had to be something to make Dan Heng chatty- he'd caught just a glimpse of it that first night they met, sittin’ at the bar in the Reverie together. He'll have to ask about the archives more often, if it gets him all revved up like that.

One week ago: After that night of energetic discussion, Dan Heng was apparently hyped up, because after he'd downed some of Himeko's coffee (“You had some too, right? What did you think of it?” “It was great, even better'n chewin’ bullets!” "Thank you! That was my newest brew, I can't wait for everyone else to try it.") he actually asked Boothill to go hunting with him. Boothill asked who their target was, and was surprised when Dan Heng pulled out photos that looked like they were from March's camera, of all things, instead of a bounty or wanted poster.

And as he sat there, studying these pictures, Dan Heng explained that he wanted to hunt down these specific memory zone memes to record them into the archives. Planets with so much memoria are a rarity, especially with the Stellaron's activity thrown into the mix, which has surely affected the local “wildlife.” He might not get another opportunity like this for a long time. And Boothill had talked last night about his extensive expertise in tracking and hunting, so he should have plenty to offer here, Dan Heng would like to learn from his experience and see how he does things!

And oh, Madam Navigator, by the time Dan Heng was done speakin', his eyes were practically sparklin'! Just lit up like the sun! Boothill could scarcely believe it! The two of them couldn't even wait another day, they set out that very morning. It had been a long, long while since Boothill had tracked someone- er, somethin’- without the intent to capture or kill. It was…actually really nice. Nostalgic, but in a good way. It might even have been his favorite day on Penacony…so…far…

Boothill trails off as a couple of realizations crash into him. All the temperature alarms he's spoken about thus far- they've all happened in the company of Dan Heng. And now that he's thinking about it, he's pretty sure even the ones he hasn't yet talked about were with him, too. Dan Heng has been responsible for all of his error codes, every. single. one.

The screen in front of Himeko suddenly refreshes to the top of the list, displaying a new notification for the current time. Alert! Core temperature above normal range.

Himeko's knowing smile is sly as a snake.

Wwwwwelp, would ya look at the time, Boothill has some errands to meet, people to run, y’know how it is, he should really get goin'-

“Oh, Mr. Boothill? About that favor.” And Boothill jolts to a stop in the doorway because fudge, he can't just leave without hearing her out. He'd given his word. He has no problem running out on someone he thinks deserves it, but Himeko really had been kind to him to try and help him out. Her voice is just as knowing as her smile, Boothill can't turn around to look at her, or else he knows he won't be able to disguise the sound of his cooling fans kicking on.

“Don't make Dan Heng wait too long, ok~?”

“Y-Yes, ma'am.”

#honkai star rail #henghill #bootheng #Himeko KNOWS abort mission abort!!!#I really love Himeko sorta looking after Boothill the same way she does her crew even if he's not one of them haha. She's so sweet with-#-Dan Heng. She really seems to adore him and wants him to be safe and happy. I think she would be so happy he's found a new friend!#She wants to help this happen!! So get to it Boothill!!!#Was yapping about this fic to Ray and she nearly fucking oneshotted me: 'It's especially funny because we've got a Vidyadhara and a cyborg-#'-they literally have all the time in the world. SHE's the one who wants to be around to see it happen akfbbsbd''#AND JUST. GOD. Himeko knowing that she won't outlive Dan Heng. She's only human. She can't compare to a Vidyadhara lifespan. So she wants-#-to make sure Dan Heng has as many people as possible. She wants to know he'll be taken care of and not be lonely even after she's gone.#Himeko wants to see this important moment in his life happen she wants to be around for it *sobbing*#I'd been wanting to write this for a long time though because for me henghill is all about the little moments. like. they talked so much-#-back and forth in 2.2. they spent so much time together. they get along shockingly well. Dan Heng could have gone almost anywhere to wait-#-for the trailblazer to wake up after defeating Sunday. And instead of anywhere else Dan Heng returned right to Boothill's side. Was still-#-hanging out with him at the Reverie's bar. Still just chattering away. The point is that these two have a strong friendship to build a-#-romance on! They enjoy each other's company! They like spending time together! And I love that! I want to see their mundane nights!!#They'd have such fun dates uweh... They go on a coffee date and miss Himeko's coffee haha #(fun story Boothill's dialogue about Himeko's coffee was originally going to be 'it was uh...an experience. ain't nothin' else like it in-#-the world.' 'thank you!' But then I read Boothill's parlor car dialogue and? it turns out he LOVES Himeko's coffee? go figure ajfldjas)#(afaik he and Dan Heng are literally the only ones. how cute is that haha)#hsr #boothill #himeko #dan heng #hsr boothill #hsr himeko #hsr dan heng #my fics

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