#i wonder if other people have thoughts like this i think that it makes me sound like a crazy manipulator .

[heartandbow]

Midnight Blue

BUCKY BARNES X FEM!READER SMUT

summary: Bucky hated you in many different ways, and tonight was no exception. tw; smut, choking, dom!bucky.

Despite Bucky's reputation of being big, bad, and dangerous, there is yet to be a time he ever scared you. Even now, where he was in the very building somewhere to kill you, you knew his only weakness — he couldn't sneak around.

It's not surprising when you think about it. With his death stare and metallic arms, anybody would spot him coming from a mile away. You just have to make sure you're faster than him, which happened to be your specialty. Being a thief for the last few years taught you everything there is to know about blending in with the shadows.

Which was a shame, you thought, because I look nice today.

You did look nice. You were currently in a gala for some valiant cause or other, hosted by some rich businessman you hadn't bothered to catch the name of. You had on your midnight blue gown, embedded with pearls that reflected off the champagne glasses and Rolex watches.

"Excuse me," one of the attendees said, tapping your shoulder. "Are you Miss Malley?"

"No," you smiled broadly, knowing the guy was about to hit on you any second.

"Oh, my mistake." He had a sheepish grin. "I'm Shane. Can I buy you a drink?"

"The drinks are free," you said, grinning right back.

"I know."

"Aren't you busy trying to find Miss Malley?"

"Who?" The smile hadn't worn off.

This particularly uninteresting conversation was cut short by sudden silence at the gala. The foolish sack of a man had diverted your attention just enough that you saw a metallic death stare at the end of the gala — a stare that seemed just for your particular demise.

Don't panic, you thought, staring right back. He wouldn't dare hurt you with this many people present. Even then, he was making his way towards you. You moved away, silent as a ghost.

With each turn of crowd, you realized you might quite possibly be stuck. Bucky had brought in reinforcement ranging from Natasha Romanoff to Captain America, all of them in regal formal attire and in different corners. No one except Bucky had spotted you, possibly because he was the only person who actually had a personal vendetta against you.

Get out, your brain said clearly. Get out before they bring you to Stark. You had enough beef with that man to last for a lifetime.

You grimaced, then looked for the exit. Not the one that the attendees use, no, that would be too easy. You headed for the staff exit, the one behind the kitchen.

---------------

Half an hour later, you were walking through the dark alley, your heels clinking against the pavement. You were exhausted from all the walk, but you were used to this dance by now. Move until the target is off your back. That's how it's always been.

You wondered if you'd ever get tired of the steps.

Someone whistled. You turned to see a man around his late 40s, clearly drunk out of his mind.

"How much for the night, sweetie?"

You squinted. He looked harmless enough. You kept on walking, ignoring his continuous calls behind your back.

"Don't be like that! What, I'm not young enough for you? I thought your kind took money from anyone with a dick!"

You had half a mind to punch him in the face with the hidden knife.

No, walk on. Last thing you need is a corpse on the street.

A second passed, then two. The man's immediate silence ticked off your senses. You turned around to see him on the floor, unconscious. Somehow, it did not look like it was the alcohol that took him out.

You were almost impressed when a knife appeared at your throat from behind.

"You're getting better at sneaking around," you said proudly. "You didn't have to knock him out though. Chap was not laying a hand on me."

"Shut the fuck up." Bucky's raspy voice sent a jolt of adrenaline down your spine. His anger was controlled, but you still could hear it.

"Your wish." You stepped on his shoes. He let out a pang of hurt, not expecting your heels to feel that sharp.

One moment of distraction, that's what cost him. You whipped your gun and faced him, smile on your face.

"How did you find me?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"That hardly matters." He put his hand out, grabbing the gun, or trying to anyways. You stepped out of the way just in time and he grunted.

"You need to loosen up. Like the night we did the Catherbury mission, remember?"

That only seemed to rile him up more. You didn't think he even cared that much about the fact that you were in Avengers a good deal of time before you sneaked into Stark's office, got his card, stole a great deal of gadgets and sold them off the black market. You didn't think he even cared you were the biggest thief in the city, one that fooled even the avengers.

His vendatta against you was personal, because he considered you his friend. The cold, cruel Bucky was duped for the world to see.

"I really think we should sit down and talk," you said, the gun still held high. "Everything I did was business Bucky, stop taking it so personally."

Bucky's face showed just a tinge of hurt, but then he hurled — no weapons, no hesitation. Just full-on pounced on you, and your back hit the wall.

"If everything wasn't so fucking personal, shoot me," he practically spat out those words.

You realized you hadn't even thought of using the gun that lay hanging lifeless from your hands. You tried to grip it, but Bucky pushed his hand on top of it, bending the metal seamlessly in a way it was upside down. You let it go and tried to move.

Bucky clapped his hands on the wall on either side of your head. His eyes were smeared with charcoal and he smelt like musky cologne.

"Where's your disappearing act now?" he whispered, making you feel all sorts of things.

"Let me go," you said, gritting your teeth. God, he was standing too close.

He bent his head down and brought his lips near your ears.

"You've no clue how long I wanted to have you like this," he said, making your heart skip a beat. "Unescapable, vulnerable, scared."

"I'm not scared."

"You should be." He put his hand — the non-metallic one — over your throat. His touch was gentle, but the message was clear; he could kill you in a touch.

Though it didn't help that you liked it a little too much.

"How did you find me?" you asked again, calmly.

"Shane is my friend. He put a GPS tracker on you. I knew you'd run so all I had to do was wait."

You were impressed yet again.

"How did Shane find me? I was blending in the crowd well."

Bucky's eyes shone brighter. "You weren't going to blend in with a dress that beautiful," he stopped, removing his hand. It was as if he just realized how close he actually was to you. His eyes slid down to your lips just a second. His hands started lowering from the wall to your waist.

Then his lips were on yours, and you could have sworn he put all his anger into it. One kiss and he was prying your lips open, making out with you in that dark alley with a knocked out man five feet away.

"James," you whined between kisses, pulling him closer. The moans did things to his brain. He slid his hands through the slit of your dress, grabbing your thigh with a force that had you unnerved.

"Can I—"

"Yes."

He closed your mouth with his other hand. "No, listen to me first. I want you to mean it. Completely. Because I don't know the things I'll do to you when you say yes."

In response, you took his hand from your thighs and slid them higher, right into your panties. You pressed your body against his and you could feel him being hard.

"I hate you," he said curtly, then picked you up with effortless strength. Two minutes and you were in a secluded part of the alley, and he was setting you down on an old bench. He bent down, keeping eye contact with you all the while.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, placing a kiss on your neck. You moaned, but didn't move. He dragged your lips from your collarbones to the edge of your neckline, and pulled the dress down.

Without waiting a beat, he took off your bra and kissed your nipples.

"Bucky," you whined, and all he did was bite down harder. He let his hand drag down and pushed two fingers right into your pussy. The pain was immediate and pleasurable. His pace was slow and you started grinding on his fingers for more friction.

"Shush," he said, taking off his fingers and setting you up straight. "Do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?"

"Yes," you said, moving in for a kiss. He turned his head away.

"Beg."

"Fuck me Bucky, please." You moved your hand to his pants, and he looked like he might lose all control. A few seconds of unbuckling and he took you in his arms, pressing you down to the bench and spread your legs wide.

You were wet already, and the sight of his big, hard cock hadn't helped. You were dripping down your panties.

"Beg," he said again, taking off your panties and throwing them away.

"Please fuck me, James, fuck—" you gasped when he thrust his dick in you. A moment of holding onto his hand and he was fucking you like you were his. He leaned over and bit down on your neck. A kiss and a few sucking and you knew that was going to leave a mark.

You didn't care. You were being dicked out of your soul and you were taking every second of it.

Then it stopped. He pulled away from you, his dick still hard. You were confused to see that big smile on his face, even more so when he started zipping his pants.

"You left me three months ago," he said, straightening his hair. He leaned down to kiss your forehead. "Next time you think of me, I want you to think of me fucking you like you're my bitch. How having my hands on your throat was enough to make you wet."

Revenge. That's what it was?

"You wanted to fuck me to make me regret lying to you?" you asked breathlessly, feeling ashamed that it already worked.

Bucky smiled. "I wanted to fuck you for a whole lot reasons Y/N, but I also want you to knock on my door and apologize, preferably on your knees and begging. On all fours. I'd sacrifice the rest of the night to see that."

He pulled you up and put the dress on tidily. "Goodbye. And, you really do look beautiful."

Motherfucker, you thought to yourself as he left.

----------------------------------------

commissions info

kofi

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[classyrbf]

STILL IN LOVE! #12 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…only to realize it’s much more complicated than you led on

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce, mentions of jail, blood, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

series masterlist

As soon as you stepped back inside the house you immediately made your way over to the bedroom to grab your phone. Your head was still spinning from what just happened. Your heart was pounding so fast you could hear it in your ears. The thought of Toji going to jail made you anxious, scared. You two finally started off on the right foot, making little progress each day and you didn’t want to tell the kids that their father was in jail. Hell, you didn’t even know how long he’d be in jail for this kind of shit. You didn’t have the money to bail him out, whatever the cost may be. But you had an idea of who might.

Quickly, you called Gojo. The phone rang while you chewed on your bottom lip, leg bouncing up and down nervously while you waited. “Hello?” It was like a weight lifted off of your shoulders upon hearing his voice.

“Gojo, thank god you fucking answered,” you sighed.

“Y/n? Oh no…what’d he do this time? Better be worth you waking me up for,” he yawned.

You let out a soft chuckle before explaining, “he’s in jail, or is gonna end up in jail—”

“Hold up, what?” Gojo jumped up, brows furrowing at your words.

“To make a long story short, my ex boyfriend came over this morning while toji was here, he said some shit toji didn’t like and toji beat the shit outta him. Cops were called and they dragged both of them away and said toji will most likely go to jail,” you explained, biting the inside of your cheek.

“And I’m guessing you need me to bail him out? Yeah?”

“Yes…Gojo, please. Me and Toji…we were doing good and the kids and it’s just—”

“Listen, call Shoko to pick the kids up after school and I’ll be over in a little bit,” he said.

“Thank you.”

Toji sat in the chair, hands laying flat on the desk as he waited in the dingy questioning room. He felt like some big time criminal, considering what happened. He was annoyed, having to go through this whole process over a simple fight. “People are pussies,” he muttered to himself. Nanami should’ve kept his mouth shut, especially about the kids. He should’ve left when you asked him to and instead he kept on going.

All Toji could think about was you, wondering if you were disappointed in him, upset or even at your breaking point with him. He promised he wouldn’t mess up his chance, and yet here is sitting in a police station with the high probability of being put behind bars. He impatiently tapped his foot on the ground, the buzzing sound of the overhead fluorescent lights making his head pound. The slight cut on lip still stung everytime he licked his lips, a faint taste of blood on his tongue.

A knock at the door snapped him from his thoughts, a police officer walking in and flashing a quick, fake smile at Toji. “Alright, Mr…Fushiguro.” The man took a seat across from Toji and it couldn’t help but make his eye twitch.

“When can I leave?” Were the first words that came out of his mouth. “I need to see my wife and kids.”

The officer chuckled, shaking his head. “Not until we get your side of the story. We already questioned Mr. Nanami, and we got your wife’s—ex wife’s side as well, so you’re next. Mind telling me what happened from beginning to end?” The officer clicked the blue pen his had in his hand, flipping the next page in his notepad.

“I woke up, made breakfast for my wife and shortly after she woke up as well. We talked for a little, didn’t even get to sit down and eat before the doorbell rang. She answered it and I looked over to see it was her ex boyfriend at the door,” he mumbles, not once shifting his gaze.

“You say she’s your wife and you say Mr. Nanami is he ex boyfriend. But he says that you two are divorced,” the officer adds.

“We are but we plan on working things out, so she’s my wife.” The officer nods are Toji’s words, scribbling it down on the white paper. “I walk over to the door and stand behind her, and they’re having a conversation about their relationship. She told they broke up—he broke up with her because of me and our relationship. Fair enough. She respected it and realized that maybe me and her should work stuff out because of our kids—”

“So why exactly did he show up?” The officer cocks his head to the side.

“To apologize and get her back. Why else would he be there? She didn’t want to and that’s when shit hit the fan.” Toji shrugged.

“By ‘shit hit the fan’ you mean when started saying nasty comments? Your wife said he began belittling her, talking about your kids and your relationship? Am I correct?” His brows raise, the tip of the pen to his paper.

“She asked him to leave, and he wouldn’t. He was saying stuff about how are relationship wouldn’t last and how I only wanted to keep her around for…sex. Then he brought up my kids, and that’s when I knocked his ass to floor. Sound bout right?” Toji blinked, completely uninterested.

“You say she asked him to leave and he wouldn’t?” The officer glances up at him for a quick second.

“Yeah,” toji responds.

“Just one more question, you don’t live there right?” The officer folded his hands in front of him.

Toji hesitated to answer. He knew if he said no, they’d probably charge him, but he said yeah, he’d be lying but he probably won’t get charged due to fact Nanami was most likely trespassing. “I do. Been living there for about a month.”

“Alright, that’s all I needed to know. Be back in few.” The chair screeched against the floor as the officer stood and walked out the room.

With a roll of Toji’s eyes he let out a scoff. “Fucking pigs.”

You paced back and forth in the living room, nervously biting at your nails, anticipating the moment Gojo knocked on the door. You couldn’t believe this was happening. It was like the universe had placed some kind of curse on you. Was it so hard to have one good day? Apparently so. The sound of knocking pulled you from your thoughts, wasting no time to unlock the door where you were met with Gojo himself, in sweatpants, a hoodie, and his hair disheveled. It was weird not seeing him dress up for once.

“Gojo.” You quickly hugged him.

“Hey, hey.” He hugged back, stepping into your house. “So, what the fuck happened? Did he seriously get arrested?” He shook his head in confusion.

You let out a deep sigh, just the thought of talking about it made you feel tired, annoyed, upset. You weren’t sure what you were. “Yes? I mean, they dragged both of them away, but Toji hit first.” You plopped down on the couch, holding your head in your hands. “He’s most likely going to jail.”

“He is going to jail,” Gojo corrected. “If they find out he doesn’t live here, and that he swung first…jail time!” Gojo sat beside you. “Depends on how much your ex boyfriend is willing to tell.” He glanced at you.

You groaned in annoyance, falling back onto the plush cushions. “Okay, but he was talking about our kids and saying all shit to me and—”

“You think cops give a shit? All they care about is sending whoever to jail. Toji or whatever his name is. And knowing Toji’s record with the police, he’s not making it out of this one.” Gojo reached into his pocket pulling out a piece of candy. “Want some?”

You glared at him, blinking. Was he serious? “Did you seriously bring candy?” You asked, looking at the piece of taffy he held between his fingers.

“Yeah, I had a whole bag of ‘em. Anyway, you want it?” He held it out to you.

“Gojo, can we please focus right now? What if he gets let off without a warning? That’s good right?” Someway somehow you’re hoping that’s the best possible outcome in this situation.

“Well, then excellent. Wait, did he like bash his face in? Or how bad are we talking?” Gojo narrowed his eyes.

“Gojo, I don’t know! For fucks sake!” You rose to your feet, stress levels rising higher. “How do we even know he’s in jail? He’s probably locked up as we speak!” You were panicking and you weren’t exactly why. Gojo said he’d bail him out for you, so coming up with money wasn’t a problem. It’s the fact that you felt like this was entirely your fault. Your relationship with Kento and your relationship with Toji, everything came crashing down. As a grown woman with two kids, you’d think you’d know better and know how to confront your own feelings without getting others involved but apparently that was impossible for you.

Though, it’s not like you expect Kento to show up on your doorstep this morning wanting to take you back. You felt horrible. He was a good man, sweet and kind, and you, you were still stuck on your ex husband and clearly that hurt him. You were sorry for that, you take responsibility that. But that gave him no excuse to bring your kids into this. Everything about this was so fucked up. Even more than before.

“Listen, relax. They’ll allow him some phone calls if they do lock him up. He will most likely call you, and you’ll spill the great news to him! No problem!” Gojo shrugged it off, reaching into his pocket to pull out another piece of taffy.

“It’s been like three hours already.” You huff.

“Then he’s probably locked up,” he casually said, popping the candy into his mouth.

“Can you take this seriously for one second?” You you take a deep breath, finding the inner strength not to yell and cuss Gojo out just because you were extremely overwhelmed.

“I am! Listen, you know he’s been in jail before! He’s fine!” Gojo swatted his hand, brushing off the situation like it was so casual.

“Yeah, with you! When you two got into that stupid ass bar fight and Shoko and Geto called me at three in the fucking morning!” Your nostrils flared, rolling your eyes at the man in front of you.

“No need to dwell on the past—wait, is that—”

“What?” You looked at Gojo, eyes wide.

“Is that your phone?” He stands up.

You run towards your bedroom, nearly tripping over your own feet as the sound of your phone ringing grew louder. “Fuck where is it?” Your eyes scanned over your dresser and nightstand before you standing tearing your blankets off of the bed. Your phone flew to the floor and you quickly grabbed it, seeing it was an unsaved number. Fuck.

“Hello? Toji?” Your voice shook as you spoke. You could hear slight breathing on the other end.

“Baby…”

tag list (closed):

@sweetpo1son @lovebittenbyevans @ryumurin @he4rts444mi @cherrypieyourface @lemonintrovert01 @ladysi0 @avanly @chilichopsticks @tananaxx @akusrider @irlbungee @my-anime-garden @hnm-mika @antiholdinghandsclub @yharnam-prophet @crankyarchives @nnnancyr @kenqki @ebiharachan @dollcest @whoreforjjkmen @yoyio90 @jaegergirl @r0seandth0rns @blankwashed @ittomain1 @3rdmonday @5seos @weird0o0 @1-800-choke-that-ho @s-j320 @viisgrave @mayajadewrites @jhiyoon @fisherman-boat @mochimoee @cheridrwyy @olanii1019 @vi-ola666 @emmaperdoswife @sucrose-fqn @rhyies-pieces @tojislittleprincesss @sashadonat @ruixrei @zara-zara11 @paper--angel @khyok @ilyanadelarosa @zxnxy @esmedelacroix

[scarletttries]

Baldur's Gate 3 Companions With a Shy GN!Reader...(Baldur's Gate 3 Request)

Request: " Can I request for Baldur's Gate 3 companions with shy gender neutral s/o please?"

Pairings: Astarion x Reader, Wyll Ravengard x Reader, Gale Dekarios x Reader, Shadowheart x Reader, Karlach x Reader

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who sent in requests and has been reblogging my Baldur's Gate posts! Consider me open for any BG3 requests, let me know if you want to see more headcanons like this :)

Astarion:

- At first Astarion would find it hard to reconcile your shyness with his understanding of the way people behave. He would be suspicious of you initially, wondering why you insist on playing your cards so close to your chest. It wouldn't be until you finally warmed up to him and started to talk a bit more that he realised that this quiet tone to you is actually very endearing to him.

- When you two get together he would feel very proud to be the person you speak to the most. Astarion can be a little insecure sometimes so knowing that you choose to talk to him despite being selective with who you speak to would mean a lot to him. It would help him to trust you more too, knowing the the deep bond between you is almost a secret that you would never dare whisper to anyone else.

- Astarion loves being able to communicate with you with just a sly glance or a single whispered word, the two of you often having entire conversations without saying a word to those around you. When you need to talk your way into somewhere Astarion's always happy to do the talking, but he can't help but be impressed with the way you can navigate through a room quiet and unnoticed.

- As a partner Astarion needs more reassurance than he ever likes to show, so knowing that you'll go against your shy instincts to whisper a flirty thought or a sentimental memory to him when he starts to look worn out always boosts his spirits. He didn't know how much he needed someone just like you in his life until you became a core part of it.

Wyll:

- Wyll never shies away from the public or a spotlight, announcing himself as he enters almost any room, so when he meets someone who prefers to listen to those around them instead of interrupting, he'd become very interested in what you have to say. He'd make the effort to get to know you even if it didn't happen as naturally as sometimes other bonds have come to him, but as he worked to gain your trust and attention he'd never regret a moment of time spent getting you to warm up to him.

- When the two of you are together Wyll will never miss an opportunity to sing your praises, no matter how bashful it makes you! He needs you to know how amazing and appreciated you are, as he can never tell if you fully recognise your own brilliance.

- Wyll falls in love with the way you think before you speak, listening to every part of his story and really considering everything he tells you, never jumping to an assumption as so many people in his life have. He finds your accepting nature makes him a better man, and in return he only grows a deeper fondness for the way you carry yourself.

- As a partner Wyll always needs someone to be there for him, listening and reassuring, and he really finds that partner in you. He's never felt more loved and respected as he does when you give him the time and space to work through his feelings and history, the quiet stillness you bring to his life letting him find a peace he's never known before.

Gale:

- Gale has spent enough time studying magic at scholarly institutes to have met more than a few shy souls in his past, so when he notices you playing the shrinking violet he knows exactly how to give you all the time and space you need to finally share a bit of yourself with him.

- He knows that the most important things to hear usually come from those who don't speak unless they have something to say, and there's no exception to that in you. He really gives weight to everything you share with him, every opinion you pose, and every compliment you reward him with through flushed cheeks and nervous laughter. It only makes it that much sweeter that you don't dish out such comments absentmindedly.

- Gale also enjoys using a bit of your shyness against you, gaining a certain amount of satisfaction from being overtly flirty in public once the two of you are well into dating. He can't help but smile at the way you shy away from his loud declarations of love and the flirty comments whispered far too loudly across a tavern. His heart practically bursts when you try to hide your face in his hands when he's being far too vocal about how beautiful he finds you in front of the rest of your companions, and not a day goes by that he doesn't remind you of that fact.

- Thankfully he usually waits until you are alone to let his adoration pour out in his gentle words and touches, enjoying that while he can be a brash as he wants in public, he can feel your true appreciation in the quiet you spend alone. His life has held more than one dramatic chapter, so having someone who loves him so sweetly and mutters his name so softly when they praise him really means the world to Gale.

Shadowheart:

- More than anyone else, Shadowheart can appreciate the desire to keep parts of yourself hidden behind some firmly closed doors. She finds herself drawn to your quiet personality as the rest of the party are a bit boisterous for her taste, often favouring the seat beside you at any given campfire, knowing her boundaries will be respected, and any conversation made will be worthwhile.

- Once you two are together, she sees you as a respite from the endless questions of the outside world. The two of you can spend hours in comfortable silence together, only your interlocking fingers letting the other know you are still there. You give her the space to think through her decisions, but at the same time she knows that if you choose to speak up then she really should consider listening to what you have to say.

- Shadowheart finds herself more able to share pieces of herself with you, as you open up at the same gradual pace that she does. You don't rush to tell her everything or bombard her with questions like the others. Instead she'll often finding you waiting outside her tent at first light when she rises, offering her a hand for a quiet stroll through the forest as you softly tell her a tale from your childhood and she tries to imagine herself growing up alongside you, in a sweet version of her life she could almost convince herself is the truth.

- Shadowheart doesn't fully know her past, but with you as her partner, her future finally starts to come into focus, all because of you.

Karlach:

- Karlach has been loud and brash since the moment she could speak, so at first she thinks your shy demeanour is a sign of rejection of her friendship. It's disappointing that you don't want to talk to her, but she's not sensitive enough to worry about what every single person thinks of her. It would be endlessly frustrating to you that you have to really put yourself out there, making every effort to be by her side and forcing yourself to respond to her every remark to try and let her know you really do like her. In the end you'd just have to ask her to dance at a celebration with the rest of the group, and when she laughs and says she thought you didn't like her, please prepare yourself to tell her you like her so much that it makes it genuinely hard to talk sometimes.

- Once Karlach understands the concept of shyness and that it is not a personal affront to her, she will be very happy to do all the speaking for both of you. Every journey you take across the lands she will gladly fill the silence with every thought and tale, celebrating loudly every times she manages to make you gasp or laugh along with her.

- Karlach will take a lot of pride in the thought that you like her so much that you are almost rendered speechless, and get quite jealous when she realises you are being shy around other people too. Worried that everyone will be seduced by your strong-silent type behaviour she would definitely insist on holding your hand as much as possible, or loudly shouting across combat that you and her are an item just in case anyone was getting the wrong idea.

- While your personality might have started as a bit of a mystery to Karlach, once you two really know each other she'll come to highly value your way of carrying yourself, learning a few things about protecting herself from undue influences, while keeping herself open to the important people in her life, like you!

[456-is-the-way]

haiii so i was wondering if i could request a fic abt reader x frontman cs ive had this idea for s while now i just cant write it😓😓

so the idea is reader is a daughter of one of the vips and one day reader's father decideds to fund the game by marrying her to frontman if that make sense?? or reader's father made some sort of deal with ilnam (up to you) , and reader is just totally against it at first bcs she thinks the games are cruel but once she spends more time around inho she warms up more and grows to really him and he also warms up to her😣😣🙏🙏 (so its like an arranged marriage, enemies to lovers type shi🤞🤞)

A/n: I LOVE ALL BLOWING UP MY ASK BOX!!! FIRST OFF I LOVE THIS IDEA. So imma write it lmao as stated before I am taking requests in my ask box first! So here is another one. Please let me know if you want to ask for a character from season 1 or 2! NGL needs more Gi-hun requests yall lol!

Trigger warning: N/A

Squid Game Masterlist

In-ho x Reader

The Arrangement

It was no secret to (Y/n) (L/n) of her father's wicked deeds. Since birth, she knew they were in one of the most elite families who not only watched what they called the ‘Squid Game’ but actively held their version of the games. It was a horrid curse (Y/n) from which she could not escape. For many years her father hosted, sponsored, and even made active bets in several games held worldwide. But none of those topped the Korean games is what her father stated for several years. She even had the chance to meet the original creator of the games, an older man named Il-nam. After all the gambling, (Y/n)’s father made one of the most unbelievable bets with the old man. He decided to place the ultimate wager on player 456: his daughter could marry anyone of Il-mans choice.

(Y/n) sat in the room with the other VIPs and her father as the final battle commenced between players 456 and 218. She closed her eyes not able to watch this. (Y/n) understood the tense feelings between the players as she was forced to watch the entire game season unfold. She could not imagine what they both felt, best friends turned against each other. She took a deep breath as her father made her watch. Despite her fate, she honestly hoped 456 won. It almost disgusted (Y/n) how her inner thoughts had rooted for the players. She had favorites just like the VIPS. At the end of the battle the underdog, Gi-hun prevailed.

It was the same day Il-man and her father introduced her to the special man she would be wedded to. “Meet the most important man here. Someone I entrust everything to. You may remove your mask.” Il-man said. (Y/n) had met The Front Man several times before. He had been very attentive to the VIPs but it was obvious (Y/n) had his personal attention. She never thought anything of it because most people gave her special treatment. Once the mask is removed her eyes widen, who knew the man was at least somewhat attractive man.

“I am In-ho. It a pleasure to be marrying you, Ms (Y/n).” He bows.

_1 year later_

The wedding took place only a year after the deal. It was held privately and only the most important officials and elite families were invited. Everything was from the top chefs Korean had to offer, she was respectful of In-ho’s culture and insisted on having a traditional Korean wedding. After the ceremony, they were sent to the luxury oceanfront hotel. She leaned against, In-ho as they were sitting on the balcony. “In-ho, why do you run these horrible games?” Her question was answered with silence unsure of how to answer (Y/n)’s question In-ho turned away. He still was not very open to (Y/n) but he did find her gorgeous and knew it wasnt her choice to partake in the wagers her father deals.

“It was complicated but I know you are stuck with an old man like me so I guess I will tell you. I had been a player in the games before. Back when my wife had been in the hospital. I had been the last one standing. It didn’t matter I was too late. She and my unborn child died… So I took the old man's offer to take this over. He needed someone to inherit the games. Including for me to have… children. He planned I would pass this down. I plan to do that. He was like a father to me and I only wish to make him happy.”

(Y/n) put a hand on In-ho’s chest. She gently cupped his face. “I am sorry In-ho. I promise to be a good wife to you… I couldn’t imagine what you are going through. Come on let's go inside.” (Y/n) kissed him deeply. In-ho eagerly accepted the kiss picking her up. It was no lie he liked the woman and Il-man knew In-ho would need someone like (Y/n) to make him stable.

She honestly felt bad for the man who was forced to particapte in these games only to still lose everything he had. “I know you I think you are very attractive for an ‘old man’. None of this is your fault … I won’t leave you,” She promised combing back his dark brown hair. Perhaps this would be so bad after all.

[princess-luvvv]

A GOLD RING AND COLD FEET

Rafe Cameron x fem!exgirlfriend!reader

A/N: (This is lowk 4.3k words I’m sorry) Hey guys lol I literally do not know what I’m doing help. I did not proofread idek how to work this app so if this sucks just don’t tell me bc this thing is the biggest pain in the ass lol. Like I am so genuinely sorry I’m such a grandma. Also this is what I listened to while writing this so feel free to listen as well :)

WARNINGS: AUTHOR CANT FIGURE THIS APP OUT, there’s no smut (not going to traumatize you guys with my brain on the first post), girl reader, marriage (basically the whole theme), cheating (sort of from reader but like it’s fine), ermmm just bad writing im sorry lol. Just a man yearning (like good). Okay Im sorry byeee.

14 DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: THE BRIDAL SHOWER

Rafe Cameron was going to be the death of me. I knew it.

We had dated for 7 years. He asked me out when we were 14 after knowing each other since we were 6. He broke up with me when we were 21. He said he “couldn’t be tied down in his 20s”.

After that I thought I was completely broken. I had never even imagined loving anyone else - having to love someone else.

But here I was. 14 days away from my wedding to a man I didn’t love. A part of me felt like such an asshole. Marrying a man who I knew I’d never love. But Jackson had his faults. He raised his voice too much. He never opened my door…not since our third date at least. He worked all the time. He regularly forgot important events like anniversaries and birthdays.

We started dating 10 months, 1 week, and 4 days after Rafe broke up with me.

Even though most people said it was time to move on it still felt too soon to me. 3 years later and it still feels too soon sometimes.

But here I am. At my bridal shower. Wearing a silver ring when I haven’t touched a piece of silver jewelry since I was 9.

I was opening gifts when only one remained. A small black box with no tag attached.

“Who is this one from?” I ask the crowd of giddy women surrounding me. They all share confused looks. Shrugging and comments like “It’s not mine” falling from their lips. This only furthered my confusion as I opened the box.

I gasped.

Inside was a beautiful - gold - ring. It was my dream ring.

“Oh my gosh it’s just beautiful!” My best friend Grace said.

“Jackson must have picked it out for you since yours is missing.” Grace says causing me to furrow my brows.

I looked down to my left hand and noticed the absence of my ring.

Since when was that gone?

“Oh yeah…I guess he did.” I smile and tuck the box away. Making a mental note to ask Jackson later. Even though I knew he didn’t get it for me, a part of me hoped.

As my friends went on and on about how beautiful this wedding would be and how happy they were…I couldn’t help but wish their joy was infectious.

At least someone is excited right?

12 DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: BACHELORETTE

I was sitting in an expensive restaurant in downtown Charleston sipping a cocktail I’m pretty sure costs more than my salad. Jackson and I had decided to have our Bachelorette/Bachelor parties in the same city in case anything happened. He was out having a guys night while I was out with my girls. I hadn’t had this much fun doing anything wedding related well ever.

“It’s not a coincidence that you think that and Jackson isn’t here” a little voice inside my brain taunts me. But I push it down. Along with the bile rising in my throat. From the alcohol or the impending commitment of forever to a person who I know I don’t love - which, I’m not sure.

“How are you babe?” My friend Ava says as she turns her entire body to face me. I was tracing shapes on the condensation on the outside of my barely touched drink while I tuned out the rest of the chatter.

“I’m wonderful how about you Ava?” I smile and meet her eye. She gives an unconvinced smile and repeats her question: “Come on. How are you really? Cold feet? We can get on the next flight out of America just say the word.” She says with a laugh. And I know she’s joking but part of me is screaming “YES!” Inside of my head.

I laugh and shake my head.

“No cold feet. Just lukewarm maybe.”

Lukewarm. It’s funny cause that’s basically a word that sums up the entirety of Jackson and I’s relationship. I hadn’t felt fire, sparks, passion…any of it. Not since-

“Lukewarm is okay. Marriage is big. But…you’ll be okay.” Ava says cutting off my thoughts. And I can see her trying to hide her real feelings. She wants me to talk to him. Not him. Him.

The him who left me in a hotel room in Key West on what was supposed to be our 8 year anniversary trip. The him who wouldn’t stop sending letters to my house. The him who sent me 127 texts and 87 voicemails since last Tuesday. Which is apparently the day the Cameron’s wedding invitation arrived. I wasn’t going to invite them but I felt I needed to. Sarah and I were still friends and I adored Wheezie. The him who took up every inch of my heart. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself he didn’t.

LATER THAT NIGHT AT THE HOTEL…

I entered my private suite in the hotel. I had gotten my drunk pack of bridesmaids back to their rooms…well the ones that were sleeping in their own rooms tonight. I had my own room this trip. My bridesmaid Lila insisted on it in case Jackson wanted to sneak over from his hotel…that’s what she said. But I knew she secretly wanted to give me my space away from the wedding buzz and events. I was grateful for that.

Until I was not.

Because the second I opened my door and ripped off my crown that said “BRIDE” I looked up and saw a man sitting on the couch in the suites living room. His elbows resting on his large thighs as he hung his head.

He looks up when I walk in.

I should’ve been scared…but I knew exactly who it was.

I flicked on the light. “Rafe what- what are you doing here?” I say in half anger half disbelief. OBX was at least 7 hours from here.

What the hell was he thinking?

“I had to see you…” I shake my head as he stands up and walks towards me. I take a step back.

“No. No. You can’t do this to me.” He walks closer. I put out my hands. Placing them on his chest to keep distance between us.

“Please just hear me out….” He gently grips my wrists that are placed on his chest. He paused for a second. Looking into my eyes to see if I would stop him again. I let him continue.

“I know…I know I have no right to be here. No right to do this. But please just listen to what I have to say…” He sighed before continuing. “You can’t marry him. Baby you can’t….I’m begging you. He doesn’t treat you right. You know that. I have so many regrets in my life…but I’d live them all over a million times if it meant I never let you go. I regret that every breath I take.”

My eyes gloss over. His touch was so gentle unlike Jackson’s. He didn’t raise his voice at me. He didn’t do anything but love me exactly the way I wanted while also being everything I needed.

He sighs seeing my eyes tear up. “Baby don’t- don’t cry….it’s just-….I can tell you’re not happy.” He says as he wipes a tear that escaped my eyes.

“I-I’m happy…” I say weakly.

But I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince. Me or him?

He sighs. Bringing a hand up to my cheek to wipe away another tear. His hand not moving. “You’re not. I can see it. I know you…I see it in your face when you look at him. Those beautiful eyes have never told me a lie.”

“You don’t know me anymore…” another lie. He knew me. He knew me. He knew my coffee order at every coffee shop on the island. He knew my favorite songs and the lyrics to all of them. He knew my favorite movie. He knew my favorite animal.

He laughs softly in disbelief.

“I don’t know you? I know you. I know your order at every Mexican restaurant on the island. I can recite your coffee orders in my sleep. I know every word to your favorite Taylor Swift songs. Your favorite movie is Beauty and the Beast and you love the soundtrack. You love penguins and you’re a dog person. I know you baby.”

I cry harder as he recites everything about me. On surface it’s not much. Small talk topics he could’ve figured out from social media. But it goes so much deeper. He knows what makes me tick. What I need when I’m sad. How to cheer me up even through tears.

If only he could do that now…

“Does that asshole even know your favorite Jane Austen book? Huh? Does he? Cause I do. And it’s Emm-“

“Stop! Just stop Rafe! Just- just go! Why-why are you doing this me? This isn’t fair.” I say wiping my tears. I was full on crying now.

“I can’t just sit back and watch you marry someone who’s not going to make you happy. You deserve so much better. You don’t deserve someone who’s never there for you, or doesn’t treat you well. You deserve someone who treats you exactly how you deserve to be treated - like the woman I love. I know I was stupid to let you go. I was young - and I thought I wanted freedom, but I was wrong. I haven’t known a minute of freedom since you left. I miss you, I miss us. And I need you more than I need air to breathe…”

“Please. Don’t marry him. Please baby…” He’s begging now. I’ve never seen Rafe Cameron beg for anything.

“Rafe I’m-I’m getting married in 12 days I can’t-“ I cut myself off with a sob.

He pulls me against his chest. I don’t protest as I cry harder. Pretty much sobbing now.

I clutch onto the end of his shirt. “I have to marry him Rafe…”

“Why? Why do you have to marry him? You know this isn’t what you want.” He says pleading with me. Running a soothing hand up and down my back. Providing me more comfort than I’ve known all of my relationship with Jackson.

“I know.” I say softly. My voice hoarse.

“Then don’t do it. Don’t marry him. I made the wrong choice a few years ago, but I’m here now. I want you not some false pretense of freedom. I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted. I can give you a ring that you actually like, and a house that we build together. I’ll give you anything you want, just don’t marry him. Be with me.” I pause when he mentions the ring. I look down to the gold ring on my left hand. Silently piecing things together.

“Did you send me a new ring?” I look back up him. Brows furrowed. My face puffy from crying. When I meet his eyes I see how utterly heartbroken he looks. It breaks me a little bit.

“I-uh…yeah I did.” He says. And as he confirms my theory I step away from him. Letting out sobs as I turn my back towards him. One hand cradling my stomach as the other covers my mouth.

“Hey - hey what’s wrong. Talk to me.” He says as he walks up behind me placing a soothing hand on my shoulder letting his hands rub me gently.

“Y-you remembered the ring.” I had shown him the type of ring I wanted back when I thought we were going to get married.

I was so stupid at 20. Or maybe I was just naive.

“Of course I remembered the ring. You showed it to me a million times. I know it was your dream ring and I couldn’t bear the idea of him giving you something you didn’t actually want…” He explains with a confused expression. Not quite sure why it was hurting me so bad.

The thought that he had gotten me a ring I wanted even though he didn’t want me marrying Jackson made me want to cry…and vomit.

“I-I can’t-“ My legs give out and I drop to my knees. Rafe immediately goes down with me. Pulling me into his chest. I was now cradled in his lap as he rocked me gently while I cried.

“Please don’t cry baby….it hurts me so bad.”

That night I fell asleep in Rafes arms.

THIRD PERSON POV:

As Rafe brought her to her hotel bed and tucked her in he couldn’t help but feel the urge to get in bed and hold her as she slept. But he knew how awful she’d feel if she woke up next to him knowing she betrayed Jackson. So he left a note next to her bedside and pressed a kiss to her forehead before leaving. The words “I love you” mumbled softly as she slept.

ELEVEN DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: THE NEXT MORNING.

THIRD PERSON POV:

As Jackson walks into the hotel room of his future wife he can’t help the guilt eating at him. He brings in the takeout bags and starts to place it onto a tray.

He takes out the water and Advil he got from the pharmacy and brings it over to her bedside.

As he’s placing the hangover cure on her nightstand a paper written on hotel stationery catches his eye.

He reads through the paper.

“All my love, R.C.”

He folds up the note and places it back in his pocket before going back to the takeout bags. Ready to act as if nothing happened.

FIRST PERSON POV

I wake up with an empty feeling in my stomach. The same one I’ve had for 3 years, 7 months, 2 weeks, and 6 days.

I hear someone walking around the suite and as much as I know it’s probably Jackson…a part of me hopes…

Seconds later Jackson comes into my room with a smile. Holding a tray of food.

Odd. He’s never done sweet gestures for me like this.

“Good morning my love…I thought this would help cure the hangover. I ordered breakfast from that place you like downtown. You always talk about how much you wish we had one back at home so…” As he explains his reasoning for being here the sick feeling grows in my stomach. And I wish it was hangover sickness. I felt like such crap. Here he was being so sweet to me and I cried in the arms of another man last night.

I look around the room for any evidence Rafe was here. Feeling slightly disappointed but relieved that I didn’t find anything.

“Have fun last night?” Jackson says as he picks a blueberry off my plate.

“Uh yeah….it was really fun.” I smile and lie. But he can’t tell the difference so he nods his head before getting up and kissing my forehead.

“Well I have to go into work early tomorrow so the guys and I are heading back home but…I love you.” He says. He rarely says those three words. And that itself wouldn’t be weird. We’re getting married of course we tell each other we love each other. But paired with the weird domestic wake-up I had this morning it left an icky feeling in my stomach. But I smiled and nodded. Swallowing my food before replying.

“Okay…love you too.”

TWO DAYS BEFORE THE WEDDING DAY: THE REHEARSAL DINNER

“Have you seen my gold earrings?” I ask Jackson. Walking around our shared bathroom while he was shaving. We were getting ready for our rehearsal dinner before we left for the wedding venue in the morning.

“Which earrings?” He asks. Not pausing his movements of shaving his face.

“The ones I always-“ I huff in defeat knowing it’s no use. I’ve worn those earrings everyday for the past 9 years. They were Rafe’s 2 year anniversary gift to me.

I walk around the bedroom looking under a few things before my phone pings distracting me for a second. I walk over to it and turn the screen over to see an Instagram DM message request.

“Hey…I want to say I am so sorry to do this to you. I know you’re getting married in 2 days but there’s something you should know…”

THREE HOURS UNTIL WEDDING DAY: THE NIGHT BEFORE THE WEDDING

I was pacing around the cabin of my private room on the property of our venue.

The venue was a family owned property on the mainland. It was gorgeous. Jackson was in the cabin across the venue in the Groom’s cabin. I was staying in the Bridal lodge.

I felt nauseous. My throat felt like it was closing and the white matching way too expensive PJ set I was gifted especially for tonight felt like it was constricting my air. The cabin suddenly felt stuffy and like the walls were about to close in at any minute. I was all alone.

I pull out my phone quickly going to the only number I had on speed dial.

He picks up on the first ring - he always does.

RAFES POV

The whole day I had been sulking at home watching football and drinking whiskey. My lab Daisy sitting by my side as she watched me drown my sorrows.

Was she really going to marry him?

I had dozed off for a few hours before a phone ringing woke me up.

I look at the screen and immediately picked up.

“I need you.” I was standing up running to my shoes before the sentence was even over.

“I’m coming baby…I’m on my way just stay put okay?” Her shaky voice was breaking my heart. I grabbed my keys and made an hour long drive less than 40 minutes.

FIRST PERSON POV

I was sitting with my knees tucked to my chest. My eyes puffy and crying, sitting at the edge of the bed when Rafe barged in. He immediately dropped to his knees next to me. Pulling me into his lap. Cradling me as he rocked me back and forth.

“I’m here baby…I’m here.” He repeats the words like a mantra to ease my mind. And it does. But it doesn’t fill the pit in my stomach that seems to have taken a permanent residence.

“Talk to me baby…please you’re scaring me…” I could hear the fear in his voice. And I felt like such a dick. I called my ex boyfriend to help me the night before my wedding to another man.

I’m the worst.

“I-I’m so sorry….I didn’t know who else to call.” I get out between sobs. He shakes his head. Grabbing my face with both of his hands.

“Shhh….I just need you to tell me what you need. I’m right here. Just tell me how to help. Okay?”

How does he always know what to say? It’s ridiculous.

“I need out of this…” And at that sentence Rafe was pretty sure he could’ve cried a happy tear. But he needed to be sure.

“Out of what baby?” He knew. But he needed to know.

“You know what.” I pause before continuing. Sniffling and wiping my tears. “Jackson cheated on me. His bachelor party…she texted me the night our rehearsal dinner. She was their bartender in Charleston. But that’s not even the worst part…” I shake my head in disbelief at myself. “The worst part is I don’t even care. My fiancée cheated on me less than two weeks before our wedding. And I can’t find it in me to care.”

I knew I never loved Jackson. And that’s part of why I was marrying him. Because I knew that if I never loved him he’d never be able to hurt me…not like Rafe did at least.

I continue:

“I’m literally incapable of loving him because every inch of my heart belongs to you. And it kills me. I should be devastated right now. But- but all I can think is that I need you. And it’s so cold and you hate driving at night but this is the second time you’ve driven over an hour for me in two weeks.”

In reality it didn’t take Rafe an hour to get here. But he let me continue anyways.

“I’m terrible-“ He cuts me off.

“No. You’re perfect. I know you think you have to settle for this but you don’t. I’m not leaving you. I’ll always be here. Whether or not you get married in 12 hours I’m always going to be there when you need me. I don’t care what it is or where you are. You call and I’m there. You need me…and I’m right here baby. I’ll always be right here. I won’t let anybody hurt you.”

I look at him as he says that. And suddenly nothing about this makes sense. Why am I getting married to Jackson?

He sucks.

I stand up. Grabbing Rafes hands pulling him up with me.

“We need to leave.” I look around the room at my things. Rafe immediately nods and starts packing my things into my suitcase with me.

“Where do you need to go? I’ll take you anywhere baby. Car? Train? Plane? Boat? Fuck I’ll swim across the Atlantic for you baby.”

I pause and glance up at him from across my suitcase that we’re both knelt over. I meet his gaze. His eyes show me nothing but seriousness. Standing 10 toes behind his words. I wrap an arm around his neck and place an arm on his shoulder to steady myself as I lean in and kiss him.

He’s so taken aback but he kisses back after realizing this isn’t another one of his dreams that have felt like nightmares these past 3 years.

I pull away and he slightly sighs at the disconnect.

“Anywhere that’s not here. Just need to be with you. Please.”

2 HOURS UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: AN HOUR LATER ON THE WAY TO THE AIRPORT

I look around the room once more to make sure I have everything.

“You got everything you need baby?” He asks me and I nod.

“I’m gonna take this to the car.” I was carrying my pillow and blanket I had brought. Rafe insisted on carrying my bags. He nods but stays in his place before speaking up.

“Okay I’ll be there in a second I’m gonna take one last look around.” I nod before walking to his truck and getting inside.

THIRD PERSON POV:

Rafe pulls the object out of his pocket. Placing it on the dresser.

He grabs her bags taking one last look at the wedding dress hanging on the closet door before shutting the door behind him.

The silver ring shimmering in the moonlight sitting on the dresser where he left it.

FIRST PERSON POV

Rafe gets back in the car and looks over at me.

“If you change your mind I don’t mind-“ I cut him off.

“I’m not changing my mind. Now drive.” He smiles before putting the truck in reverse.

As we drive for a few minutes a question plagues my mind: Why didn’t he say anything the morning after the bachelorette party?

“Can I ask you something?” He glances over at me. He had a comforting hand on my thigh as he drove.

“Anything.” I smile at his answer while look at my lap before continuing.

“Why didn’t you say anything the morning after that night in Charleston? Not a text or a note or anything? I know you didn’t have to I just…hated waking up with no evidence that you had even been there.” Rafe’s brows furrow.

I did leave a note. He thought to himself.

“Baby I left a note on your dresser…didn’t you see it?” He says confused.

“No…the next morning I woke up and Jackson was…” I trailed off. Suddenly piecing everything together. Rafe seemed to as well. His grip on the wheel tightened and his jaw clenched.

“I left a note. I promise. But it’s not anything I won’t tell you to your face everyday for the rest of our lives. So don’t worry about it, pretty. Okay? I love you, baby.”

“I love you, Rafe.” And I truly meant it.

On the way to the airport we sang along to Taylor Swift songs we both knew. And suddenly the pit in my stomach was slowly being filled with laughter and the way he didn’t even ask me what I wanted when we stopped at McDonald’s.

To be loved it to be seen. And I had to have been invisible to Jackson.

23 MINUTES UNTIL THE WEDDING DAY: AT THE AIRPORT 11:37 PM

“Flight 237 is now boarding. This is the final call for passengers to LaGuardia Airport.”

Rafe looks at me as we get ready to board the plane.

“You ready?” He sticks out his hand. I smile at him.

“Yeah…I’m ready.” I take his hand and lean up and kiss him as we walk onto the plane.

I glance down at the gold ring on my finger. And I realize no one will ever see me as clearly and perfectly as Rafe sees me. And that’s all I could ask for.

“Hey” he looks back at me. Glancing up from his sports magazine. His brows raised waiting for me to answer.

“I love you.” I continue and smile. His gaze softens and he pulls me into another quick kiss. I hated PDA but I didn’t care. Not with him.

“I love you more than I can even describe.” He pauses before continuing. “If I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more.”

I don’t know a lot…but I know I’ve found my person. And everything’s okay. And for the first time in 3 years, 7 months, 4 weeks, and 2 days…I felt like I could breathe.

[gguk-n]

What? How? (Max Verstappen x Reader)

Based off this request. I had put up a poll to decide the driver with a part 1 and thought this would be part 2 but I think that's like the preview/introduction and this is the main part!

Everyone grew up hearing about soulmate; from their family or friends or relatives. Most people looked forward to meeting their soulmate, some people wanted to defy fate and some people never got to meet their soulmate.

Max grew up believing that he wasn't deserving of love and thought he'd never meet his soulmate. But a small part of him hoped that, someone would come along and fall for him and be his person. He found himself dreaming of her. The mark on his wrist was a reminder of the soulmate he was yet to find. His sister had found her's and spoke in detail about what it was like to meet your soulmate. He would always end up talking to Victoria about the time she met her's and what it was like, something Max was embarrassed to admit.

In the time that Max had been at RedBull, he had never had issues with anyone. He did his best and gave the team the result he could. Him and his race engineer meshed well, bringing a lot of synergy to their collaboration until he got a new team mate, which some how also meant a new race engineer for said team mate. He saw Y/N for the first time at the start of his fourth year in Formula One. She was cheerful and bubbly and always wore a smile on her face. She spoke kindly to everyone and a part of Max would always gravitate towards her. He had silently hoped they would be friends since they were both perfectionist but it never happened. Y/N always kept to her work; she was assigned his team mate's garage.

It was in 2021, when Y/N got the bump up and became a race engineer for Sergio Perez, his new teammate. Max never knew he could argue with someone as much as he argued with Y/N. They were always at odds because somehow whatever she did was against him, it felt. The team could see daggers flying from across the hospitality at each race but let it go since they never did anything. Until those fights started escalating, from bickering to arguing to full on screaming matches in the hospitality, audible to anyone who could hear. Horner and Marko had tried to get them to resolve their issues but to no avail, it only made things worse.

Y/N thought she was a part of the soulmate less crew, "I'll register you with soulmatch" her mother told her. Soulmatch was an agency, a app or a website, which ever one you chose to help two soulmate less individuals get together and find companionship in each other. Her mother wanted her to start looking, Y/N couldn't careless since her job kept her busy and she was barely at home anyways. Y/N was a race engineer in Formula One; a job she worked tirelessly to achieve. It barely gave her any time to wonder where her soulmate was. She got to work with some of the most talented and smart people to make machinery that made the car go really fast. But now she was working with her driver, Sergio Perez to make sure the race went as smoothly as possible with the best result as possible; sometimes at the cost of the other driver. "Are you listening to me?" her mother's voice broke through her thoughts. "Yeah" she replied. "I'll let you know once you match with people" her mother stated before cutting the call.

Her parents were late bloomers themselves; having met each other in their late 20's and early 30's so she didn't understand the fuss her mother was making. She was in her prime and a soulmate would come along when he wanted to. Y/N travelled the world; if a soulmate existed, she would run into him eventually.

There were a lot of times you would wish someone was your soulmate and there were a lot of times you wished someone wasn't. For Y/N, it was Max Verstappen. She hated his guts; ever since she had become a race engineer, he had been a pain in the ass for as long as she could remember. He would start fights with her if she prioritised her driver, and honestly, who else would she prioritise. She had good strategies that would work in her driver's favour sometimes and he couldn't tolerate it. Starting fights and unnecessary arguments. The team was done with them, the paddock was done with them and the DTS crew always had so much fun.

At the start of 2022 season, the whole paddock and the world knew about Y/N and Max. The fans would laugh and joke about them being soulmates and the other drivers took the piss out of Max for having an engineer as an enemy. But, everyone knew about them. Everyone knew how much the pair hated each other and wouldn't even look at each other, if not to fight.

It was the Monaco weekend, the two of them had been at odds since FP1. Y/N tried to be calm and mature about it; she didn't want to cause issues for the team. Hence, she ignored any thing and everything he said. It was getting on his nerve; she was ignoring him and behaving extremely rudely to him. It all came to a head when the team finished P1 and P3 with Y/N's driver winning the race, street circuits were his thing and Y/N played to his advantage. You can already see the resentment and anger brewing as Max got out of the car. "Who does she think she is?" Max almost screamed at GP. "Calm down Max" GP tried to reason. But Max wasn't hearing anything.

During the post race interview, there were jabs being thrown but it was during On The Sofa; when Max said something, which he later realised he shouldn't have. But it was too late; Y/N was already there and a fight broke out. A lot of commotion, the media having a field day, Sergio and Carlos driver trying to get them to stop, their team trying to stop them and PR having a crisis. The crowd went silent as Y/N pulled her sleeve up to reveal her soulmate mark which matched Max's soulmate mark exactly; now visible due to the scuffle. A loud whisper broke out in the crowd, Y/N looking at him and then his mark as the pair tried to process what was happening. Over whelmed with emotions, Y/N stormed off, leaving the crowd but most of all her soulmate stunned.

Max walked out off the stage, shocked from the revelation. He found him self in his driver's room with no recollection of what had happened. He kept playing back to the moment when he saw Y/N's mark and wondered if things would be different. He wondered if she hated him because he was her soulmate. He wondered what it would be like to liked by his soulmate since the one he got hated his guts.

Y/N was reeling from the revelation; the man who was supposed to be her soulmate was also the man she hated the most, or did she dislike him? All of these thoughts and emotions swirled inside her as she wondered what just happened and how she had gone this long before finding out. Did he know? Did he hate her because he knew? What was going on and what was she supposed to do? She felt her world crash and her phone wouldn't stop ringing. She looked at the caller and it was her mum. "Congratulations darling" she bellowed. Y/N was confused, "I saw you found your soulmate" her mum said when she got no reply. "How did you find out?" she asked. "It's on the news, sweetheart" her mother stated. While Y/N was still reeling from the revelation, F1's social media accounts had already posted about the two sworn enemies actually being soulmates and how it was straight out of a fairytale. Y/N wanted to disappear. Why was this happening now? she wondered, exhausted from the events of the day.

Max was informed by his father that F1 had posted about the moment when Max and Y/N realised they were soulmates. Max was exasperated. He ran a hand through his hair, ready to rip a new one into the admin. As soon as he opened the door he found Y/N standing there. "Did you see?" she asked. Max just nodded shocked to see her. Y/N made her way into the room, trying to find a place to sit when Max gestured towards the sofa. Y/N sat down, "It's an invasion of privacy" she stated. Before Max could say anything, Horner burst into the room. "So happy to find the lovely pair" he bellowed and hugged Max. "You two will make the best couple" he smiled, clapping his hands. Y/N tried to get up to protest, "I've already asked the PR team to start on the media day and social media stuff. You two have to post and we'll start making new content" he stated. "No" Y/N objected. "I'm the one who pays your bills" Horner said before he turned around. "The PR team will email you two the schedule soon" he said exiting the room. Y/N's shoulder's slumped as she walked towards the door. "See you around" Max's voice came out, weakly.

The PR team had decided to make the two appear in pictures and tiktok challenges together, to show them being lovey dovey. The two of them treated it like a task, they would show up, film it and leave. Max could feel his heart ache, hoping Y/N would look at him with anything but disdain.

Y/N found herself questioning herself, if she even hated Max. She found herself staring at him during debriefs and interviews. She found herself learning his driving style. Max was going to win his second championship too and RedBull had planned for a huge spectacle. When Max won Suzuka; he got out of the car, happy even elated and ran to his team and GP. Y/N was stood there by RedBull's plan. Max hugged her first, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his head in her neck. Max felt tears prickle his eyes, he hadn't hugged her ever; her arms wrapped around him. When he pulled away, he saw tears in her eyes. "I like you Max. I'm so proud of you" she said. Max was shocked, this wasn't in the plan. "What?" he asked. "I like you Max Emilian Verstappen" she stated with tears streaming down her cheeks. "I...I like you too" he stated. "Let's talk after" he said pecking her cheek before being whisked away by their team.

After all the celebration, Max and Y/N were finally able to sit down and talk about the other day. "When?" Max asked. "I guess watching you" she muttered. "You?" she asked. "I don't think I ever didn't like you" Max stated. "I thought you hated me?" Y/N asked. "I didn't. I just thought you hated me" he replied, sheepishly. Y/N broke into a laugh. "We're so dumb" she continued laughing.

As time went on, the two of them grew closer with time. Max was able to stop RedBull from capitalising on their relationship. Y/N was still his team mate's Engineer and they still fought but Max would always kiss her to make everything better.

After the dominance in 2023, 2024 was tough on Max and Y/N too. They found them selves at an odd with the team, never themselves. Y/N would always reassure Max that he could do it, a fourth title was in his cards. "Schat, you are too optimistic" Max mumbled while cuddling her. "I'm realistic. I know Max Verstappen" she said. "Do you?" he smirked. She hummed tracing her fingers across his bare torso up to his chest, cupping his cheeks. "I'll marry you the day you win your fourth title" she said pressing their lips together. "No take backs" Max proposed pulling her on top of him. "Aren't you supposed to propose?" she giggled. "You wear the pants in this relationship" he said kissing her again.

As if Max got all the motivation he needed, he won his fourth title in Vegas. After the emotional team radio, "Y/N I hope you bought your dress because I'm marrying you in the next 2 hours" Y/N found herself smiling; there was chaos in the garage, their families were staring at her. "I told him I'd marry him the day he won his fourth title" she shrugged. Horner and Marko were trying to process the situation. But as soon as Max was done with all the formalities, Max staggered towards Y/N. "Never thought I'd marry you drunk" she laughed. "I'd marry you any way" he giggled.

They said their vows at a chapel in Las Vegas in front of their families and the other drivers. Y/N's parents were crying watching their daughter. Some how Max had planned it all, he had their family present, he flew her friends out; it was madness but in the best way possible.

At the end of the night, the two of them lay next to each other in their honeymoon suite. "I can't believe we got married in Vegas" Y/N said looking at Max. "I can't believe I married my enemy" he laughed. Y/N hit his chest playfully. "I love you Y/N" Max said now facing her. "I love you too Maxie" she replied. "You're stuck with me" he stated. "I've been stuck with you since I joined the team" she laughed.

Maybe the fact that your soulmate used to be your enemy doesn't seem so bad. Maybe enemies to lovers wasn't just reserved for YA novels. Maybe Y/N was happy, Max was her soulmate.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Hello my beautiful friend! I am SO ready to dive back into this series!

Right off the bat, the sexual tension with the gambling 👌🏻. I don't know what it is, but I always love in movies or shows or books when they have a poker game/card game between two people who are obviously into each other. I don't think it's a trope, but- the sexy smiles over the cards, the bluffing, the flirting, the teasing, just OH GOODNESS 😮‍💨

Hey, I know we just met like two minutes ago, but I think we’re supposed to be together. Do you feel it too? You nearly roll your eyes at yourself. Yeah, that’ll go over well.

I'm not going to lie, I would have thought this to myself if I was in her situation. At the same time I feel bad for her because she has all this bottled inside and it's probably even worse that she's in close counters with him, just second guessing everything. BUT I also love that you've given us these wonderful domestic moments between the two of them. ❤️

“All right, I’ll be out back,” he says. Out back, code for out in the shed. You nod, and in a flash, he’s shutting the door behind him.

DANG IT DEAN STOP HIDING FROM YOUR FEELINGS! Man really out there chopping wood trying to forget all his problems and relieve some tension 👀, while the reader is inside trying to educate herself🤣

The way you integrated John's journal into this chapter was so good! It adds on to the lore of the story. I'd never read through the official "John's Journal" merch so it was nice to see those little details and honestly made me feel more connected to the reader, because it was the first time that I was reading the entries too!

You don’t realize you’re crying until a droplet lands on the page. You quickly wipe it away before it becomes a stain, and you dry it all the way with your breath before you move on to the next page, sniffling. Your heart hurts, even as your guilt grows. You know now that you’re really, truly invading Dean’s privacy by reading his father’s words. You just can’t stop yourself from turning the next page.

Girl it's okay we can cry together- DEAN WAS IN THE CRIB WITH SAM. Nothing is okay. I am made of tears. INCONSOLABLE 😭

“Dean, please, just talk to me,” you implore, gesturing at the journal tucked under his arm. “The things I read—” “Are none of your goddamn business!” he growls, making the omega inside you cringe. The alpha’s voice is deep and sharp, and even though he isn’t crowding you, his height and broadness are still intimidating. “The sooner you heal up, the sooner I can ship you back to where you belong,” he says. “Back to your life, so you can stop sticking your nose into mine.” 

No, NO, No. Dean NO.

Bad Dean!

Dean watches you go out the door without a word in irritation, even though it triggers an alarm deep in his gut every time you leave the safety of the cabin. 

AND he knows that she is supposed to be HIS. For the love of rice krispy treats! SHE HAS A BROKEN ANKLE DEAN. Don't let her leave!!!

You thought you were starting to connect with him, but clearly, Dean wants nothing to do with you. He wants you out of his life.  Does he not feel the same pull you feel to him? Does he really not realize…that he’s meant to be your mate? You take in a shaky breath through your nose. If he does, apparently he doesn’t care.

Sweetie he's a grumpy old onion, you gotta peel him back one gorgeous layer at a time. 🤣

This bit is also so heartbreaking, because it's literally her meeting her mate and her believing that he doesn't want her, when it's probably all he does. There's something so raw about that. The idea of finding someone who was literally made for you and believing that they want no part of you. Oh goodness my fragile heart😭

You lean over and cast your gaze down the slope, but all you see is snow and trees down below. With a shaky breath, you lean back and look out to the north again. Plodding along the trail, heading towards you, is a bear.

I'm not going to lie, I wasn't expecting it to be a Bear. I literally thought this was going to turn into Dean saving her from a Wendigo- because of the allusions to her dad being killed by one, but this was such a (un)pleasant surprise LOL

In this moment, these are the things you don’t know about Dean Winchester: For one, the scent of an omega in distress always calls to an alpha’s protective instincts. But the scent of your abject fear feels like someone tried to rip his lungs out through his stomach. Second, when he sees you there, your wide, shiny eyes filled with the remnants of panic, yet relief at the sight of him, it takes everything within him not to drop to his knees, grab you by the hair, sink his teeth into your neck and claim you, right there in the snow. Maybe then you’d start listening to him and stop taking your life into your hands.

I LOVE this insight into his head, just a little piece but enough for the readers to see that Dean does in fact care and that he does feel something for her! Not to mention again... HE PICKS HER UP. I've read Dean in so many fics doing that but each time it just makes me *swoon*.

And oh my word, him finally sitting down with her on the couch and allowing himself to let down some of his walls and let the reader in is just so good!! Not to mention now the reader is going to tell him the truth over how she lost her dad! I'm very excited to read the next chapter, but this one was amazing Alex! 🤗

Against the Wind - Part 2

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Thank you guys so much for all the amazing feedback on Part 1! Now, most of your theories and questions will be answered...

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, and peril, the other kind of "hunting."

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 2: Seems Like Yesterday

“I’ll raise you 25,” you say, tossing five chocolate covered pretzels into the middle pile. It’s a risky bet, considering how much you lost in the last hand. Dean regards you with an amused, if critical eye while he holds his cards.

“Ooh, you’re bluffing,” he says. You pop your brows at him, a subtle smile tugging at your lips.

“You want to test that theory? Put your money where your mouth is,” you challenge.

He tilts his head at you with a raise of his own brows.

“Cheeky omega,” he mutters. His attention returns to his cards as he deliberates on his next move.

You attempt to be nonchalant as you glance down at your cards again. It’s a shitty hand, but he doesn’t need to know that. The alpha’s won the last two hands of Texas Hold ‘Em, but you did win the first one. Though you suspect he let you win.

You want to at least even the score before he resumes his work out in the shed. He spends most of his time there during the day, or making sure the firewood is stocked. It seems like he takes any excuse not to spend too much time in your presence.

More than anything, you want to ask him if he feels what you feel—the same tug in the pit of your stomach every time he’s nearby. You just haven’t found a way to broach that with him.

Hey, I know we just met like two minutes ago, but I think we’re supposed to be together. Do you feel it too?

You nearly roll your eyes at yourself. Yeah, that’ll go over well.

So you have to be content with mornings like this and in the evenings, where he lets you put on one of his records, and you two share dinner together, maybe another round of cards. Or you’ll read a book while lounging on the chaise, and he lays out on the couch, listening to his music with his eyes closed. You like watching him like that, with a relaxed, damn near peaceful set to his face.

Too often he holds that harder, stoic expression, or that divot between his brows that makes you want to soothe two of your fingers there; or better yet, lean in and press your lips—

“It’s your move,” Dean reminds you. He’s finally played his hand, but you were too distracted to hear what he said.

“What’d you do?” you ask, surveying the piles of cards.

“Call,” he repeats, popping a few pretzels into his mouth. He washes it down with beer and more barbeque chips. Those are worth $10 in this little fantasy betting. He points a finger towards you with the same hand that holds his beer, teasing, “You got all the lights on in there? Or am I boring you?”

You glance up at him, fighting a smile. “All right, keep your pants on. Let me see…”

As the dealer, he’s already turned over the River: the last card in the hand. It’s a 10 of Clubs, which means your One Pair is actually a Two Pair. It’s still not a great hand, but it’s decent enough to maybe let you get the best of your opponent.

After you go “all in,” Dean’s lips twitch at a smile, and he humors you, going all in as well. You’re on tenterhooks when he finally reveals his hand.

“Ooh, it ain’t a cheesy ‘90s sitcom, but it’s still…a Full House,” he brags as he lays out each card in a smooth line of overlapping cards, the mix of glossy red diamonds and black spades showing the truth. He won again.

You huff in defeat, your shoulders sinking in your seat at the kitchen table. You turn over your measly hand. Sweeping the winnings toward himself (a mound of chocolate covered pretzels, a stack of barbecue chips, and a handful of Oreos), Dean chuckles and tosses you a wink.

“Ah, don’t beat yourself up, sweetheart. I’ve been hustlin’ poker for a long time. Hell, I’ve been playing this game before I even knew my times tables,” he says as he collects the cards.

“That young?” you reply. “Who taught you?”

“My dad,” he says. “Oh, believe me, I used to get my ass kicked many a’ time, but by the time I turned sixteen, I was hustlin’ grown ass men in skeevy bars out of their daily paycheck.”

“You were hanging out in bars at sixteen?” you ask incredulously. There, Dean seems to realize he’s said too much. He becomes more guarded as he puts away the deck and cleans the crumbs off the table.

“My dad was always working. You could say I didn’t really have a curfew,” he says.

“A latchkey kid, huh?” you reply, hiding the way you’re trying so hard to glean any more hints of truth between his words.

“Heh, yeah.” He gets up from the table and tosses the breakfast dishes in the sink, then travels to the front door to don his jacket and boots.

“All right, I’ll be out back,” he says.

Out back, code for out in the shed. You nod, and in a flash, he’s shutting the door behind him.

You’ve learned another small tidbit about him, one that feels more important than it seems on the surface. And yet, it only elicits more questions you doubt he’ll be willing to answer so easily. He’s more than tight-lipped about his past, only giving vague outlines and general pictures.

Even his stories—like being raised up in a family of traveling mechanics, putting Nair in Sam’s shampoo when he was a kid, or the guy’s serious fear of clowns—feel like they’re missing some key details.

You decide to take up your crutches and head for your room. There you unearth the journal from its hiding place under your pillow. This time, you turn to the very beginning. Before all the jargon about mythology (and an odd footnote about a “Turducken Slammer”), there are actual journal entries. The first one dates back to November 6, 1983. The first line already captures your attention.

I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family…eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed… When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head…I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.

This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.

Dean’s mom…

He writes about their house burning with all their memories inside, along with Mary. Somehow, he saw her pinned bloody to the ceiling.

Along with these pages is a clipping from a news story:

House Fire Kills Mother of Two

Lawrence, Kansas.

You’re spellbound by it all. You keep reading.

November 13, 1983

…Most of our clothes and photos are ruined, even our safe—the safe with Mary’s old diaries, the boys’ savings bonds, what little jewelry we had…all gone. How could my house, my whole life, go up like that, so fast, so hot? How could my wife just burn up and disappear?

The police don’t believe his story, about how she died before the fire, about what he saw. So he tries to convince himself that what he saw wasn’t real. Still, he can’t find rest, and he worries about his sons’ safety.

December 4, 1983

I haven’t let them out of my sight since the fire. Dean still hardly talks. I try to make small talk, or ask him if he wants to throw the baseball around. Anything to make him feel like a normal kid again. He never budges from my side—or from his brother.

Every morning when I wake up, Dean is inside the crib, arms wrapped around baby Sam. Like he’s trying to protect him from whatever is out there in the night.

Sammy cries a lot, wanting his mom. I don’t know how to stop it, and part of me doesn’t want to. It breaks my heart to think that soon he won’t remember her at all.

You don’t realize you’re crying until a droplet lands on the page. You quickly wipe it away before it becomes a stain, and you dry it all the way with your breath before you move on to the next page, sniffling. Your heart hurts, even as your guilt grows. You know now that you’re really, truly invading Dean’s privacy by reading his father’s words. You just can’t stop yourself from turning the next page.

John becomes convinced that someone, or something, started the fire that destroyed his life and took his wife away from him and his sons. He leaves his job and the remnants of that world behind, to venture deeper into the darker one. But in that darkness, he finds truth.

He visits a psychic, Missouri, who leads him back to his house and senses the echoes of an evil presence—something that shakes her to the core, and John too: the creature that killed his wife.

December 20

…She told me that it was the most powerful, awful thing she’s ever come across.

On January 1, 1984, John makes a New Year’s resolution. He determines to find the answers himself.

A shiver runs down your spine. In John’s words, your heart breaks for Dean, but you also see yourself. You try not to think about why.

You keep flipping through the rest of the journal past January. There are translations of a Latin exorcism, and like you read before, strange drawing of evil looking creatures—as well as what they are, scraps of their history, and how to kill them.

Silver bullet to the heart, can’t withstand iron, salt and burn.

You pause on a certain page, more filled with lore than the rest, and a primitive drawing in the center.

WENDIGO

Cree: Evil that devours.

Wood spirit. Eats live flesh. Lives in forests.

Perfect hunter.

Your breath stills in your lungs as a cold sweat forms across your skin. The more you read, the faster your heart beats.

The crunch of dead leaves. Your father shouting at you to run, and keep running.

The coarse shout of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short. You turn around with your rifle in hand, poised to shoot blindly.

Your stomach churns as bile rises into your throat. You feel sick, and wrong, and you suddenly have the urge to throw the journal against the wall.

“Omega?” calls Dean’s sharp voice. “You okay?”

You jolt badly at the sudden noise. You didn’t hear him reenter the house. He likely caught the scent of your distress. He pushes the door of your room open to find you, but he stops short in the doorway. His surprise quickly morphs into a frown when he notices what you’re holding in your lap.

You gasp, freezing where you sit, but there’s no point in trying to cover up what you’ve done. With an angry purse of his lips, he reaches over and takes the journal from your hands.

“What the hell are you doing with this?” he demands.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I just—” You swallow past the lump in your throat. “I was just curious. I wanted to know more about you. I thought it was…a normal journal.”

“So this is how you go about it, huh? Got everything you wanted, Columbo?” he says, his sarcasm cutting into you. He flips through the journal to make sure all the pages are intact before he tucks the journal under his arm. “Seriously, going into somebody’s stuff? Who the hell raised you?”

At that, you begin to bristle.

“My dad,” you snap back. Though remembering the passages you’ve lived with for the past few hours, you soften with a painful twinge of sympathy in your heart. 

“And it looks like yours raised you to be some kind of…well, what are you, a ghostbuster or something?” you ask.

His jaw locks. “Or something.” 

With an exasperated sigh at his hedging, you swing your legs around the edge of the bed and haul yourself up with your crutches so you can at least match his stance (more or less).

“Dean, please, just talk to me,” you implore, gesturing at the journal tucked under his arm. “The things I read—”

“Are none of your goddamn business!” he growls, making the omega inside you cringe. The alpha’s voice is deep and sharp, and even though he isn’t crowding you, his height and broadness are still intimidating.

“The sooner you heal up, the sooner I can ship you back to where you belong,” he says. “Back to your life, so you can stop sticking your nose into mine.” 

Your mouth actually falls open in shock. His vehement words feel almost as powerful as a physical blow, if to your soul. They make your arms tremble while holding yourself upright on your crutches. Hot tears well up in your eyes, though you try to blink them away. After a moment, you’re able to collect yourself enough to speak.

“I’m sorry for going through your stuff,” you say, in a quiet voice.

You hobble awkwardly past him out of the room. You don’t stop until you reach the front door, where your snow boots are. You manage to get them on by yourself so you can go outside and get some fresh air, not to mention some much needed distance from the alpha’s burning presence. You can still feel him trailing behind you. You hear his heavy boots.

“Where the hell are you going?” he grits out.

You hobble faster.

Dean watches you go out the door without a word in irritation, even though it triggers an alarm deep in his gut every time you leave the safety of the cabin. 

The snow depth has lightened somewhat since the storm, but it’s still not easy to navigate on your crutches. You get some distance from the cabin, mindful not to go too far. You know you’re limited, and you didn’t even take a gun with you.

Finding a solid tree to lean on, you rest there and try in vain to stifle your tears. You know you were wrong for snooping, and he had a right to be mad, but did he really have to be such a freakin’ bear? 

Fucking alphas. I swear.

You thought you were starting to connect with him, but clearly, Dean wants nothing to do with you. He wants you out of his life. 

Does he not feel the same pull you feel to him? Does he really not realize…that he’s meant to be your mate?

You take in a shaky breath through your nose. If he does, apparently he doesn’t care.

Just then, you hear the crunch of snow nearby. Twigs snapping.

Your body stiffens with a terrible memory—of that day in the woods. Your breath comes out in short puffs on the cold air, your eyes wide as you listen closely.

Hearing nothing, you allow yourself to breathe a little easier. You venture a few paces forward and to the right, but you stop shy of how it slopes downward. Some unnamed feeling tells you to look over the edge.

You lean over and cast your gaze down the slope, but all you see is snow and trees down below. With a shaky breath, you lean back and look out to the north again. Plodding along the trail, heading towards you, is a bear.

Oh shit…

You remember Dean mentioning something about a bear passing by his cabin a couple of days before the storm. Looks like he’s back to make his rounds.

His fur is dark; from this distance, you can’t tell if it’s a black bear or a grizzly. It doesn’t make much difference when all you have on your person is a can of bear spray. His gait is massive, unhurried, but he lets out a braying sound when your gaze meets his, as if acknowledging you. He stops there for a moment, assessing. Your body locks up with fear.

The bear groans again, this time sharper. You finally snap out of your reverie and force your body to move slowly backward with your crutches spearing into the snow. The cabin isn’t that far, maybe thirty or forty yards at most. Still, the bear can probably beat you.

Instead of trying to run, you stand your ground and shout at the bear, hoping he’ll back off. Your voice dies in your throat when he rears up on his hind legs, with a loud roar. Trembling, you miss a step and get knocked back into the snow on your ass, your crunches falling out at your sides. You scramble inside your jacket for anything that might help you. 

Bear spray!

You hurry to get the cap off with shaking hands, but before you can even aim, the creature’s heave paws thudding into the ground in front of you—a gunshot rings out and hits the animal in the chest. 

The bear falters, then roars in pain and anger.

Two more shots finally bring it down to an even heavier thud, not far from your feet.

In this moment, these are the things you don’t know about Dean Winchester:

For one, the scent of an omega in distress always calls to an alpha’s protective instincts. But the scent of your abject fear feels like someone tried to rip his lungs out through his stomach.

Second, when he sees you there, your wide, shiny eyes filled with the remnants of panic, yet relief at the sight of him, it takes everything within him not to drop to his knees, grab you by the hair, sink his teeth into your neck and claim you, right there in the snow. Maybe then you’d start listening to him and stop taking your life into your hands.

Instead, his lips purse as he wracks his rifle and slings the strap of it over his shoulder. He stalks toward you and scoops you up, crutches and all. He brings you back to the cabin without a word.

His jaw is once again locked with silence and strain; he doesn’t trust himself to speak until he’s brought you inside and carried you over to the chaise. He sits beside you there and takes an inventory of you with his eyes.

“You okay?” he asks at last.

You manage to meet his gaze and give a little nod.

“Okay. Don’t move,” he says shortly. He gets up and goes to the kitchen, where he grabs a foldable set of knives and a cooler from under the sink.

You watch him in silence, and you realize he’s going back to gut the bear. You didn’t know that he actually hunted out here…well, hunted to eat. He continues to gather items in silence. It gets to a point where you can’t stand it, or his curtness, any longer.

“Thank you,” you say, halting his steps. Dean glances at you over his shoulder, then continues strapping up his supplies. He huffs in response.

“We’re gonna be eatin’ good for a while,” he says without looking at you. 

His attitude both hurts you and aggravates you, so much that you refuse to take it anymore. 

“Look, Dean. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have butted into your life,” you say. Frustrated tears well up in your eyes. Expelling a sharp sigh, you amend yourself. “I’m sorry for invading your privacy. I’m sorry about what you went through, and I’m…I’m sorry about your mom. I’m sorry for today. I’ll just…stay out of your way, and I’ll leave as soon as I can.”

Dean finally turns your way, but your lips tremble as you turn your face away from him and shut your eyes tightly against the salty burn of tears. Deep inside, his heart withers in his chest. He sighs and drops his supplies on the couch. He walks over with those heavy boots, and he sits on the edge of the chaise beside you. He hesitates for a moment, but eventually, he rests a warm, calloused hand on your arm and earns your tearful gaze. 

“I’m sorry. I, uh…shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he says. 

You sniff, quickly wiping away your embarrassing tears as they come. Your cheeks are hot with it.

“What is it you wanna know? About me,” he asks, surprising you that much more.

 Your mouth parts, but nothing comes out. It takes you some time to think, but the first thing that comes to your mind is…

“Everything in that journal,” you say, licking your dry lips. “Is it real?”

Dean holds your gaze steadily. You know the truth without him having to say it, but he does.

“I was a hunter,” he says. “Those things you read about, I found ‘em. Killed ‘em. It was my job.”

“And now?” you ask, once that large bit of information has time to set into your brain.

His lips tug at a half smile. “Consider me…mostly retired.”

You exhale softly, and you nod. It earns a furrowed look from Dean.

“You don’t seem all that freaked out by this,” he says, with a more scrutinizing gaze on you.

“Should I be?” you say, with an unsteady laugh.

He raises his brows. “In my experience, yeah.”

You chew on the inside of your lip. You don’t know if you should even put into words what you’ve been holding onto for months. Like John, no one believed you. Even your own mother had started to look at you like you needed a shrink.

“Omega?” Dean presses. His green eyes are perceptive as they take in the conflicted look on your face. “There something you wanna tell me?”

You deliberate for a moment longer. Then, you release a sigh and glance down at your hands clenching in your lap.

“A few months ago, I lost my dad,” you begin.

Dean nods. “Yeah, you said—”

“I lost him in these woods,” you say.

That quiets the alpha.

You shake your head, and you find your words as the memories that have been haunting your nights return to you.

“Like I said, we used to go hiking here every year…”

AN: Just so you know, all of the journal entries appear in the official "John's Journal" SPN merch. 😉

Next Time:

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name louder, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 3

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[randomness-is-my-order]

i think one of the most wonderful traits of wei wuxian is how socially competent he is, which is why it always annoys me if he is mischaracterized as someone who is unaware about how those around him feel, just because of the way his relationship with lan wangji pans out in the books. the dynamic between them was extremely multifaceted and what seemed obvious to us was very rightfully NOT obvious to wei wuxian and he hardly had time to sort those feelings out, given the kind of harrowing ordeals he was going through. but that aside–the way wei wuxian’s “social competence” manifests isn’t just social courage–in that, the risk of embarassment or self-consciousness doesn’t stop his self expression–or just his general forwardness and social butterfly tendencies but also–and imo, most importantly–his perceptiveness and astute reading of people around him which comes from a deep understanding of the human social element, at the individual and the societal level.

he has full awareness of how his station is looked down upon in the cultivation world and so while others in his situation may bend or break–wei wuxian cleverly toes the line between the two until taking a stance becomes necessary. he deeply understands the ugly dynamics running within the jiang family and clan and acts accordingly–be it his prompt efforts to placate jiang cheng or his conscious silence when madame yu is in a mood or even his acceptance of the whipping in lieu of restoring stability for the clan. despite his personal biases against jin zixuan, he can recognise his bravery. even his scandalous move to begin undressing in the cave shows that he knows exactly what would make lan wangji tick.

hell, i’d say even his initial thought about how the resentment of the dead can be redirected towards a target shows his striking comprehension of how emotions work in general. what’s more, he’s able to recognise the machinations nie huaisang had employed and he was also aware of the bigger picture associated with how fickle and easily swayed mob mentality was when everyone took part in bashing jin guangyao when certain truths came to light. when he was first brought back to life, he quickly and correctly deduced what kind of life mo xuanyu must have led and how he could act in order to easily humiliate the mo family. he empathised with jin ling and yet realised how he was brought up left something to be desired and so, tried to inculcate some of his own highly regarded values to him.

the deft manner in which he handled the juniors speaks for itself–a good teacher will always have good communication skills and wei wuxian went above and beyond just “good”. his people skills on nighthunts are extremely helpful–his ability to make tongues loose simply by charming people is highlighted more than once. just off the top of my head–him politely appealing to jin guangshan about the wen remnants and apologising for “intruding”, him readily handing in his sword at the indoctrination camps, him suggesting to jiang cheng that he should leave the clan once he was at the burial mounds–all of this (and much much more) demonstrates wei wuxian’s competence at guaging complex social dynamics, which is why, when he goes against the current and stands firm, it is a deliberate, well thought out decision, one made after considering the risks and repercussions, and that makes wei wuxian’s stance at the end that much more powerful. he is not stumbling his way through life, is not unheeding of his social status, is not a “mad genius with poor social skills”. hell, i would say wei wuxian’s ability to see straight through people is more impressive than even his insane intellect and to reduce that aspect of him feels like a disservice to his character. because when it comes down to it, the fact of the matter is that the murky social world through wei wuxian’s lens is actually astonishingly clear.

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

I Want You Back

This was originally requested by Anon who asked: "Could you make headcanons where you have an established relationship with the Tokyo Debunker characters but your ex suddenly tries to win you back?" The links to the other houses are below.

Fandom: Tokyo Debunker

Characters: Alan Mido, Leo Kurosagi, Sho Haizono x gn! Reader (separate)

Frostheim | Vagastrom | Jabberwock | Sinostra | Hotarubi | Obscuary | Mortkranken

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're happily in a relationship with the Tokyo Debunker characters. So how will they react when your ex suddenly tries to win you back?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’d think Alan would be super protective of you but he’s initially going to be very reserved. His self-doubt is coming back at full blast and he’s going to give you as much room as possible to make the decision you want.

He thinks you’re going to get back together with your ex so you’re with someone who isn’t constantly worrying over hurting you.

But the second he finds out you want to be with him and just want your ex to leave you alone, he’s going full protective boyfriend mode.

There’s no way your ex is going to be hanging around now that Alan’s stepped up to protect you. You’ve already got a wonderful boyfriend that has everything you could ever want.

Oh, Leo’s going to be so toxic with this one. But surprisingly not towards you. If he’s in a genuine relationship with you, he’s going to be really careful he doesn’t push you away.

No, no, no, he’s going to be super toxic towards your ex. I’m talking “befriending” them, then leaving them on read, doxing them, spreading rumours, and just generally making this person’s life a misery.

He’s also not afraid to bring his followers into things. He’ll post a video talking about how more people need to learn to accept no’s. And the second he lets slip “accidentally” that your ex has been hanging around, his followers are on the case.

There’s only a moment where Leo considers the possibility that maybe you want to be with your ex. But he’s going to push that thought down with all the other negative thoughts he has. He’ll deal with them one day…

Sho is the ultimate balance of Alan’s reservedness and Leo’s immediate defensiveness. And the main difference is that he’s going to sit down with you and have a conversation about what you want to do.

As soon as he knows where you stand, he’s got permission to act on all the protective feelings bubbling inside him.

Sure, Sho’s a nice guy, especially when it comes to you, but he’s in Vagastrom for a reason. He’s going to try and talk to your ex first and if that doesn’t work, he’s challenging your ex to a round in the pit.

 He knows damn well he’ll be able to beat you ex in the ring, especially if he has you cheering him on loudly from the side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[indanmei]

Hi, and welcome to the New Year! Here’s a cute little Wangxian sketch for you—I hope you enjoy it!

Now, a few words from me, as it seems I’ve somehow become a center of controversy. Some people have voiced concerns about me using AI in my workflow, and while I understand their perspective, I don’t think it’s as big of an issue as it’s made out to be.

This particular sketch was drawn entirely in Procreate—no AI involved, for anyone wondering. But yes, I do use AI sometimes. I have a busy life and severe ADHD, which makes it hard to finish long projects. To help, I trained an AI model on my own art. I use it for things like corrections or coloring, allowing me to create more efficiently and, frankly, enjoy the process more.

Is it “cheating”? Maybe some think so, but I remember hearing the same arguments about Photoshop years ago. To me, AI is just another tool. It’s fun, it’s helpful, and it lets me finish work I might otherwise abandon.

Of course, I understand concerns about AI models trained on others’ art without consent—that’s a valid issue. But using a custom model trained on my own work? That feels perfectly fine to me.

What about you? Do you think AI in art is problematic or helpful? I’d love to hear your thoughts—even if you think I’m in the wrong here. Let’s have a discussion about it!

Wishing you all a creative and joyful New Year.

[yuesya]

Aventurine drums his fingers restlessly upon the table.

It’s not the thrill or rush of getting ready to make another gamble, to take on another of the IPC’s deals. No, this is a very different sort of restlessness that he’s feeling right now –one that’s mixed with a distinct unease, almost. Aventurine wouldn’t say that he’s nervous, because he isn’t, but…

… But Aventurine is a realist who’s always acutely self-aware of his own worth. A worth that can only be measured in terms of what value he is able to provide to those around him.

Any relationships are weighed and calculated, always. Everyone makes use of others in some manner, but at the same time that you’re using others, you have to be prepared for being used in return. Because that’s the way things work in this world, isn’t it?

Assess one’s value, establish your own worth, then extend a hand in friendship. That’s the way to cultivate a healthy, cordial relationship.

Look at me. I can be useful to you.

“Aventurine?”

A smile curls over his lips at the sound of her voice, before her figure has even crossed into view. “Hello, Lyra. How have you been doing these days?”

“I was in your apartment last week,” the obtuse Halovian girl responds, once again failing to recognize and partake in the common ritual of social niceties that most people observe.

A faint hint of something more genuine enters Aventurine’s smile, even though he can’t help but be exasperated by her response. “… Do you realize how misleading that sounds?”

Lyra blinks, blue eyes wide and clueless. “But it’s the truth?”

Someone save this oblivious girl. And Aventurine too, preferably.

He lets out a light cough, “Well. At any rate –I’m here with a gift!”

With Lyra, it’s always better to be direct.

Aventurine reaches to his side and brings out the newly-acquired gift he’d brought for his friend. It’s something that had taken quite a bit of effort to get his hands on –a finely-crafted blade, rumored to have been forged using ores mined from Izumo, prior to the world being subsumed in IX’s shadow. Izumo had once been known for the quality of the blades born from their forges. It was impossible to get your hands on an authentic Izumo blade nowadays, though, so Aventurine had to compromise–

The restless sensation in his chest finally eases, when Lyra curiously draws the sword, and her eyes widen. Only slightly, but Aventurine is familiar enough with the girl to clearly see the hint of wonder and delight that she makes no effort to hide in front of him.

“This is an excellent blade.”

It had better be, considering the minor fortune that Aventurine spent on it. “I’m glad you’re happy with it! I thought it might be something that you’d like when I came across it.”

Lyra’s gaze flickers towards him, arching an eyebrow. “You ‘came across it?’”

Aventurine shrugs, doing his best to seem casual about things. So maybe he’d specifically searched for a weapon that would be worthy of her and spent no small amount of effort on the endeavor… but for some reason, with Lyra looking at him like this, he–

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” the words blurt out from his mouth automatically, and Aventurine pauses at the strange feeling that her simple ‘thank you’ elicits in him.

… It’s normal to offer valuable presents to friends. Because that’s how you maintain friendships, right? Reaffirm and prove to them your own value?

So why does he–

“Thank you for the sword,” Lyra says, “And thank you for thinking of me. When you ‘came across it.’”

“Of course,” Aventurine murmurs. “We’re… friends, aren’t we?”

He glances up towards her. There’s no particular reason for it –it’s just a casual look in her direction– but in this moment, Aventurine suddenly sees it. The way her wings flutter slightly, the way the light overhead catches her eyes like jewels beneath the firelight–

The way that her lips curve faintly and he gets the impression that she smiles, just a little bit.

[dollya-robinprotector]

I’d still like to know what you consider copying if you’re willing to answer! ^_^

I just look back and realize you asked about "artstyle", which I don't really have an answer for. I believe artstyles are meant to be "adapted" and "improved" and there's nothing too definite to be called "copy artstyle" for those who genuinely want to learn. Ah, but there are still some shitty examples, so follow me down on this...

For example: Rei17, is known for being an absolutely massive A-hole and treating people like shit, but also a legend for having the most magical use of colors, lighting and composition, along with a perfect dynamic for anatomy.

That is to say: an "Artsyle" is made up of many elements. One cannot copy an artstyle if one can't copy everything that artstyle is made of, and that's a LOT of work, especially to copy a master of masters like Rei17. Instead, they mimic some fractions, that make things easier. But then that's not "copy artstyle" anymore, that's "copy concept", "copy color", "copy composition", etc... and suddenly it's not really very "copy" anymore because when we break it down, those fractions becomes "knowledge" that's really "learn-able":

For example: Turn out Rei17's color skill is a very clever use of color theory and by learning about it, many and many other artists can also use it so vividly, without even looking remotely like Rei17's "artsyle"

Taro-K from TamoTaro

Or you can have some cases who tried to mimic everything - the entire artstyle, and fail miserably. For example, this artist I know from some time ago:

left: copy works from that artist and right: original works from Rei17

above: copy works from that artist and below: original works from Rei17

Now, this is called traight-up copy too, I think you can see why:

left: copy work from that artist and right: original work from Rei17

this artist also copied Azling

and once again failed miserably because he lacked the knowledge and didn't understand the fundamentals behind the drawing :)

Now that I saw those messy lines without a horizon line or focal points again it indeed reminded me of something.... ah!

Now, joke aside, I honestly cannot give more insight into this problem since I'm not exactly too keen on just one artstyle myself. BUT I know it when someone learned from my "concept", "paneling", or shits like that, and especially my "designs".

I remember one time there was an artist, who appeared on tumblr dot com one day, and drew their Whitney with the exact choker tattoo I gave my Whitney, with the exact 4 little triangles on the side too. And when I reached out to them and said I was more than happy to let them use my design, but they needed to know the "lore" behind it, they admitted that they saw my drawings on the top tag and just thought it was a common thing, and despite my efforts to communicate, they never reply again, and then fade away with all their drawings......

Mystery...

Recently, I reached out to some artists I've noticed were kinda of copying or referencing my works, and to my relief, they all admitted their wrongs and were willing to make up for it. For example, when I put a drawing that references my work, side-by-side with my drawings like this, do you see the issue?

This case is not the only one, but it is the mildest of the conversations I have had in the past few days addressing almost the same issues. I've asked the artist for permission to use this drawing as an example of obvious referencing.

yup, they admitted they learned from my work but did not ask because they were "shy and afraid of asking because that would bother" me.

And to that, I say: "ALWAYS REACH OUT AND ASK FOR CONSENT FIRST". If you can ask, just ask. If given permission, wonderful! And if not, oh wew I just avoided upsetting my fav artist any further! Or if the artist doesn't respond: oh I should still be respectful and give them the credit. Do it, be respectful, and give credit to your source of learning because confrontation is never a nice thing to face.

And if you want to ask about copy and heavy ref in Designing, especially Character design, I think that'll have to be for another day because I'm so tired now U_U) I hope this post can clear up something and give someone who needs it some insights

And remember: ALWAYS ASK FOR CONSENT AND GIVE CREDIT!

[allurilove]

Calm yandere is so cuteeee I just wanna marry him. Waitttt what if I asked him to marry me on the spot during like a hangout or something?

That would be pretty cute actually! Unlike yandere classmate or yandere chaebol, he doesn’t need the proposal to be extravagant and prefers a more a lowkey one.

Your boyfriend waited patiently as you knelt down to tie your shoes, sitting on one of the park benches and taking in the beautiful scenery around him. The flowers were in full bloom, the sun was setting, and the gentle sound of waves nestling against the rocks filled the air. Despite the tranquil moment, his curiosity was piqued when he glanced your way and noticed how long you were taking.

He was genuinely starting to wonder if you had somehow forgotten how to tie your shoes.

Still in your kneeling position, you glanced back and forth, one hand hovering near your right pocket. You knew your boyfriend could be a little shy around other people, and the last thing you wanted was to accidentally draw a crowd. After making sure the coast was clear, you let your fingers brush against the velvety box hidden in your jeans. But just as you prepared to make your move, a passerby decided to stroll slowly past you, throwing off your plan.

The groan you let out caught his attention. “Is everything alright? Do you need help tying your shoes?” he offered, his tone kind but tinged with a bit of pity, as though he were trying not to judge you for taking twenty minutes to complete such a simple task.

“I know how to tie my shoes,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “I use the bunny ears method, thank you very much.” Then, shooting a glare at the slow passerby, you silently thought, Thanks for taking your sweet time, asshole.

“Bunny ears method? I haven’t heard that in a while. Maybe when I was like two or so.” your boyfriend quietly snorts, his hand reached out to give your head a somewhat condescending pat.

You swatted his hand away with a frown. “Stop that.” you said.

Finally, you took in a deep breath and asked the question.

“…No.”

“What?”

“Want me to say it in french? Non.” the man crossed his arms.

“Okay, no need to be so extra. I heard you.”

“I know.. it’s just that I’ve been on Duolingo— anyway, I think we’re moving a bit too fast.” your boyfriend sighed, his shoulders a little slumped, “I want us to be secure, have good jobs, and we haven’t even showered together before…”

Taking a shower together? He’s goddamn seen you naked before, so why the hell does that matter?! “Since when was that a criteria to getting married? Is that such an important milestone for you?”

Calm yandere shuts the box for you, nudging it so you would take it back. “My friends say that if we’re comfortable enough to take showers in front of each other, then we can marry.”

You stare at the yandere as if he had magically grown two heads in front of you. “Why would you listen to your friends who are single losers, and have probably never even touched another person?”

“Huh, you’re right.” Calm yandere takes the box, opening it back up, and he then slid his finger inside of the ring. “It fits nicely,” he hummed out of happiness.

“I love you and I accept your proposal.”

[ryuzakemo128]

Kintsugi: Chapter One: Red Flags, Why can't we see them?

Pairing: John Price x Female reader

Content Warnings: Female reader is the breadwinner, female reader is a sex worker, john price is an asshole to you, simon is there for you as a friend, John's secret affair mentioned, cheating suspicions, female reader has a secret apartment, pregnancy scare, arguement and yelling. Burned out female reader. Smut. Not the good kind sadly. Second warning for asshole john price. You will hate him. You are supposed to hate him.

Masterlist - Chapter List

Summary: “I am tired of being someone else’s last choice instead of someone’s first. It’s always what have you done for me? Instead of how was your day? I can’t take more of this. I knew what I was getting into. But I didn’t agree to any of this.”

I get what you're sayin' I just really don't wanna hear it right now Can you shut up for like once in your life? Listen to me, I took your nice words of advice

“I am tired of being someone else’s last choice instead of someone’s first. It’s always what have you done for me? Instead of how was your day? I can’t take more of this. I knew what I was getting into. But I didn’t agree to any of this.” You remarked into your cassette tape, another diary entry you keep from his prying eyes and another way to keep Price from using your own hurt against you. You don’t know what you did to earn it.

You mentioned your ex-boyfriend off handedly once and he blew up in your face. You waited for hours for him to come back home. You were crying your eyes out when he stormed out the door. It wasn’t like you were mentioning him to make him jealous either. You didn’t know what you did wrong.

He never told you why he was upset with you sometimes. He would always leave after a huge argument saying he needs ‘space’ and that you made things worse when all you wanted to do is to make things better. Nothing ever seemed to work for him at all. Nothing at all. You called Gaz and he would say he didn’t see him. But your hunch that Gaz was covering for him.

About how you think I'm gonna die lucky if I turn thirty-three Ok, so yeah, I smoke like a chimney I'm not skinny and I pull a Britney every other week But cut me some slack, who do you want me to be?

You didn’t want to turn to Simon for advice but john left you without a choice. What wer5e going to do next? He wasn’t content with just small insults at your appearance it seems. It was going to a different level like stepping out of your relationship. The one thing you thought was going well for you.

'Cause I'm too messy and then I'm too fucking clean You told me get a job then you ask where the hell I've been And I'm too perfect 'til I open my big mouth I want to be me, is that not allowed? And I'm too clever and then I'm too fucking dumb You hate it when I cry unless it's that time of the month And I'm too perfect 'til I show you that I'm not A thousand people I could be for you and you hate the fucking lot

“I don’t know what I did wrong, whenever I ask it’s like I’m talking to a brick wall. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” You felt awful about talking to your ex. But he knew you better than your current boyfriend it seemed.

You had tried everything to make it work with Price but it felt like you were just going around in circles. You felt like you couldn’t breathe anymore. It’s like every move you made was wrong. You decided to give him the space he wanted, hoping that when he returned he would realise what he had and that he didn’t need to treat you this way.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” You stated. “I need to find a new place of my own if he’s gonna keep actin like this. I don’t know what he wants from me and he just won’t use his fuckin words to say it either.”

You wonder where you went wrong in your life to get THIS kind of treatment. You never spoke back, never complained nor insulted him or looked elsewhere for comfort outside of your relationship. You pulled out of the apartment slowly enough to make sure he never caught on, last thing you wanted him to do is to catch on to what you were trying to leave him.

You hate the fucking lot You hate the fucking lot

You made rain checks whenever he ‘tried’ to have sex with you. You knew what he was trying to do and you weren’t going to fall for it this time. You didn’t want to feel like you were slowly losing your mind.

You don’t still don’t know what you did wrong to deser5ve John’s cold shoulder as of late. You still tried asking about it. But he always says, “Nothin for you to worry about.” No ‘babe’ or ‘love’ like he used to speak to you.

You slowly started to miss those moments more as the days went on. It made you worry more so you stopped mentioning his hours away from home and you silently continue to seek out a new place to move into.

You didn’t tell Price about the new place you managed to find. You stopped telling him much of anything related to you or your work. You didn’t want another lecture on how you were ‘wasting’ money. Even though you out earned him in your chosen profession. Money remained a sore topic for the two of you.

Staring to move your things into it while he would be deployed. Piece by piece, you didn’t move any of you old furniture it would make things far too ‘obvious’ to him. It would alert him far too quickly.

That’s if he even noticed anything about you anymore. Or if there was anything wrong to begin with. The selfish cunt. No guarantee that he hasn’t noticed either. He wasn’t completely stupid sometimes. Might get suspicious about what you’re planning to do or planning to go. You would have to come up with a convincing enough lie to get him off your back.

Though if he already knows? He may try something drastic enough to keep you there. You just hoped you had enough time to give yourself space between him and the man you used to love. That you used to adore and cherish. Before whatever cause this….monster, this fiend to come out of him.

You showed Simon the new place you bought, it had two bedrooms, the master bedroom had an ensuite attached and a walk-in closet. The kitchen had a stainless-steel dishwasher, and the apartment building had laundry machines on the ground floor. You can always buy new furniture, and any old furniture will be sold when you get comfortable with living somewhere he doesn’t know of.

You didn’t want to hire a private detective on your own boyfriend, but you can’t help but feel suspicious of what he was doing in those long hours far away from you. You pitied anyone who had the misfortune of dealing with him. Even the people inside the same task force as him. The need to control everything won all the time.

You worked in your office like you normally done. Giving him his own branded silent treatment into his face. You weren’t going to give the right to hurt you more than he had done tonight. You were so tired of his shit.

You weren’t perfect far from it too. But whenever he was around you it was clear it was what he wanted from you. You continued to play dumb and you didn’t give him anything he ‘wanted’ from you.

“No. Do it yourself.” You remarked one morning.

John raised his eyebrow, looking at you like you had grown a second head. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” He spat, his words dripping with venom.

“You heard me. Do it yourself. Clearly you don’t need my help. So, go on, do it yourself.” You stated as you walked upstairs to your office to continue your sewing on your dress.

John looked at you, his eyes wide with shock, “Is this what it’s come to? You’re just going to ignore me like that?”

“W-what’s the matter dear? Can’t handle your own portion of your responsibilities? Does he need his mother to write up a chore list?” you taunted from upstairs. “You know one thing a man can do that proves he’s a real man? Admit when he’s fucking wrong. You can’t seem to even do that anyway.”

'Cause I'm too messy and then I'm too fucking clean You told me get a job then you ask where the hell I've been And I'm too perfect 'til I open my big mouth I want to be me, is that not allowed? And I'm too clever and then I'm too fucking dumb You hate it when I cry unless it's that time of the month And I'm too perfect 'til I show you that I'm not A thousand people I could be for you and you hate the fucking lot

As you finished the dress’s skirt velvet inlay for the next video, the amount of work you put into your pornographic content is both immense and taxing at times. As you didn’t want it to look like it was a cheap Halloween cosplay or cheap in general.

The main reason you earned so much is because of the level of care put into your craft. Your fans knew that and appreciated it. It was a stark contrast to the apathy John showed for your well-being. You had a loyal fan base and they were eager to support you. But that didn't matter to him.

Especially when he looked at the content you posted both behind the paywalls and the free teasers. He said it wasn’t real money. But you also pointed out that you sold pottery once a month online. You paid the bills, and you weren’t above reminding who earned more to be able to let him spend his income his own way.

Petty? Sure. But petty with a reason attached.

By the time most of your most expensive work gear is moved to the apartment, you were only living there now and cleaning up to a meticulous degree in total silence. As you cleaned the living room carpet with the deep cleaning machine you bought for the occasion. You were dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top, showing off the tattoos that danced along your arms and your stomach.

You had dinner in the slow cooker since seven in the morning. You didn’t bother to set the table since it was just you and your thoughts. You weren’t expecting him to come home early tonight. You hoped he’d stay out for as long as possible.

When he finally decided to come back home. You had placed his dinner into separate containers. You were already asleep on the couch. The plush pink eye mask over your eyes, the matching pink silk pyjama set. The chunky, thick blue-grey crocheted blanket you made last year keeping you warm. As the unicorn shaped nightlight provided enough light in case you needed to use the bathroom.

You had a doctor’s appointment coming up sometime in the next month or two. You don’t exactly remember if it was next month or the month after that. A full body check up to make sure things were in working order. You had done one every three months. The job demanded that you were healthy physically and mentally.

You paid for these yourself, despite living inside a country with healthcare. You paid for medical insurance anyway. It was one of those private healthcare insurance things you paid a good chunk of your money for. You decided to go for the best of the best, and with John’s current mood swings? You weren’t going to take any chances with your health.

What if you were pregnant would he finally be excited that it had finally happened? Would he confess to his affair to another man or woman? All of these thoughts spun around your heard like ballerinas. You didn’t quite understand where his hostile started and if it would ever end.

You felt like it was your fault for not being strong enough to put your foot down. To demand what you did wrong. Why did he seem so fine with it if he felt otherwise? What made him feel this way? If he wanted to break-up why did he wait so fucking long?

You always felt like he was rushing things in this relationship. Especially when he found out about your career, your little side hustles which contributed to your cushy amount of money. But you weren’t perfect, you weren’t even close. From far away the illusion of perfection is there. But once you peak through the cracks they’ll see how many imperfections you got.

What were you supposed to be?

What are you supposed to be?

Everything is spinning out of control. Cliché advice doesn’t work when he doesn’t want to fix himself.

You were either too messy or too fucking clean. Either way he hated how you’ve been. You could be keeping the house clean, but he’ll comb through just point out a spot where you have ‘missed’. Like he knew what to do to make you so pissed at him.

Pushing all the buttons built inside you in the right order, the right way to get you annoyed with him., It was like he had some kind of sick satisfaction when you broke down in tears. Not because you were sad or even upset. You just had so much anger built up inside you that you couldn’t contain it all.

“I feel so fucking disgusting that I even still want the guy that way. It’s like he knows that about me.” You confessed to Simon during one of John’s solo operations. He knew he would have freaked if he knew Simon was inside his home while he wasn’t there.

“Its not nearly as weird as you might think, humans are supposed to be complicated. You’re not a simple creature, love. And neither is he.” Simon remarked. He didn’t have to say much to get his point across.

“He wasn’t so closed up before. He used to be so open minded about these kinds of things.” You remembered, talking about how John Price used to be before things went to shit after almost eleven months dating him.

Simon nodded his head, “Looks like you’re going to have to make a decision soon, love. You can’t keep living like this forever, hiding and tiptoeing around him.”

“I have a doctor’s appointment coming up, if he hasn’t spoken up by then, or by the time most of the house is back to how it was when I first moved in. I’m breaking up with the guy.” You remarked.

Simon raised an eyebrow at how you were putting the house back to how it was before you moved into it. The only difference is that you wouldn’t leave things unrepaired or maintained.

“Why bother with the appointment if you’re just going to leave him?” Simon questioned, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Full body check up remember? I still get one every three months. Four times a year.” You answered taking a sip of your earl grey with lemon and ginger tea.

The last thing you want is to drag some poor child into this whole mess. You don’t know how he would react to the news of it.

To think months ago you couldn’t wait for it to happen.

Only for your relationship to sour this quickly.

Over the weeks Price was deployed, you got the plumping fixed, the light switch and plug covers replaced by an electrician, the toilet and shower head replaced. You didn’t care if price wouldn’t appreciate the thought going into his house.

This was done selfishly not selflessly. Though your definition of what made someone hopelessly selfish was always different from his. Not that you cared anymore.

You replaced his couches and threw out his old, ruined ones into the large tip you rented one morning. Price barely recognised his own home when he came back home from deployment again.

From the old grey ones to dark crimson red ones, with charcoal grey cushions on them. A new cow’s skin rug on the floor. New light switches and plug covers. Painted the living rooms a deep blue-grey shade that made everything else pop. The kitchen had new cabinets and new appliances. It was a stark difference from what it used to be.

Price walked upstairs to the bathroom to see how you changed that too, the tiles were changed to a beige on the walls with black on the floor. The shower was now a glass cube instead of a shower curtain. The sink was no longer a pedestal sink, but a modern vanity with lights around the mirror. The bathtub was replaced with a walk-in shower that had a bench and rain shower head.

Other changes he took notice of where all his things were in the master bedroom, organised, hung up, ironed, folded, washed and put away. Everything was clean and in its place. The bed was made with freshly washed linens, and you had even gone so far as replace the mattress. It was a new king-sized memory foam one with a fancy cooling system that would be heavenly to sleep on.

As you fucked yourself on his thick cock for behaving so well? His rough hands on your hips. You continued to ride him with your luscious hips. Wide-eyed, rock hard and stunned. Your mind was elsewhere about hoping he didn’t do anything other than put a condom on. You didn’t know if you still wanted to have his children when he was treating you this way.

Your body betrayed your every thought, every moan you made were made from your lips. You felt your pussy tightening around him. He had to be feeling it too, his grip on you tightened and his thrusts became more erratic. Enjoying letting out his most primal nature into you. Feral and unabated. \

Only you knew he wouldn’t provide aftercare when he was done with you and you always had to finish yourself off in the bathroom as he passed out in his bed. You don’t know if you could stand him anymore. You didn’t know whether you could wait any longer.

Tags: @night-girl-301 , @evans-dejong , @persephone-kore-law

If you want to be tagged in the next chapter please let me know!

[papaya-inspiration]

Foreach 2024 Reader Survey Results

So, my buddy @lumsel makes a lil webcomic called Foreach. I help 'em out with it sometimes. The comic's website doesn't have a comment section, so I thought it'd be fun to do a little year-end survey to see who was reading and what they think!

We had an incredible response, with 279 respondents to the survey--more than are in the Foreach discord server! So let's get into it.

Character Popularity Poll

Alright, let's start with the thing I know y'all are most excited about. As the comic creators, we love all our characters equally... but clearly you guys don't!

☀️ SUNNY SWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!! ☀️

Y'all REALLY like Sunny, eh? Don't worry, us too. In fact, 80.3% of you listed her in your top 3 favorite characters. Hell yeah.

The next top four characters are the four game protagonists, with Jiro ranking top, then Nix, Cliff and Coral. A lot of readers also mentioned Jiro as particularly relatable/lovable in the write in box at the end of the form. (Don't worry, I won't tell him y'all like him this much. Though with this many Love Warriors, Proteus won't stand a chance invading the island.) I was a bit surprised to see Jasper/Coral ranked as the lowest of the four protagonists! Given that the comic initially presents her as the "anchor" character and a jumping off point for the story as a whole--but that also means she's among the least unusual of the four protagonists, and thus stands out less? It's a hypothesis.

After that, we have Polyta (which makes a lot of sense, she's had some of the most page time of the side characters), then Mercy and Doctor Kree'zik. I wonder if some of this is recency bias, partiularly in Kree'zik's case, seeing as we haven't gotten much past xer character introduction yet. I'll be curious to see how these numbers shift if we run this again next year!

We also got some minor character write ins! Several people said they enjoyed various Aveans, with two votes specifically for the Avean Captains and someone else voting for the avean grunt from page 106 who says "Thanks a bundle!" And I agree: they're pretty adorable. Another person listed "the author" as their favorite character which... you know what, it is a fairly meta comic, so I'll allow it. (Even though, hilariously, Lum is the only member of the creative team to have not had a character cameo in the comic yet.)

Also shout out to the person who wrote in that they almost listed the character cameos for Peri and Kiki (the rat and the rabbit from pgs 24-25) as their favorites. I see you and appreciate you <3

Game Popularity Poll

Not a ton to say about this. People seem to like cozy-ish indie games and furry aesthetics. Makes sense to me.

Comic Info

How are people finding Foreach?

As always, word of mouth is CRUCIAL for indie webcomics getting off the ground. You guys sharing and linking it to friends and communities is really the engine behind getting eyes onto our art--so thank you!

We got another big boost from joining the @spiderforestcomics webcomic collective. So far, it's been a great experience and we've been loving the community over there. So if you're in the market for more comics, definitely go check out some of theirs!

I should note that there is definitely some overlap between these categories. We let people mark multiple answers, so many people marked "Word of Mouth (online)" in addition to other categories like Tumblr and other discord servers. In that broader category, there where several places that people specifically noted finding the comic including:

Our reader Digamma has been tirelessly reposting the comic to the Something Awful forums, and it looks like quite a few people have been keeping up from there! Thanks, Digamma, you're a certified super-spreader!

Dan of @thewebcomicsreview has linked to Foreach several times!

People also mentioned finding it through various discord communities, including the Star Impact server, a server for puzzle games, Foxglove Comics, and others

Rilly had a cameo in @erinptah's webcomic, Leif and Thorne!

Several people discovered it directly through the Neocities discover page!

Cohost, Cloudhiker, and a fairly lukewarm substack review... which nonetheless garnered us a few readers. I'll take it!

Currently, Foreach doesn't pay for traditional banner ads of any kind. So everytime you tell a friend about the comic or share a link to it, you're helping us out a ton! Thank you!

How are people keeping up with comic updates?

Not too much to say on this. Lots of manual checkers, and it looks like we're getting good mileage out of that RSS feed. Excellent!

Readership Info

Discord Membership

We had more survey responses than people currently in the Foreach discord. But even more excitingly, only about one third of survey respondents are also in the discord. Which is exciting, because it means there's more of a readership out there checking the comic updates than we knew previously!

Additionally, I'm personally excited by this result because hearing from those quieter members of our reader base is precisely why I wanted to put out this survey. We have a lovely, active community in the discord, but as a side effect that means we're hearing a lot of opinions from just one, disproportionately vocal part of our reader base. My hope with this survey was that we'd get a chance to hear some voices that we don't usually get to interact with... So for all you silent majority readers out there: Hello! Thanks so much for chiming in!

Patreon Membership

Most of our readers don't back the patreon. Which is to be expected! We actually got a few new patrons signing up after the survey was posted, which is absolutely lovely of y'all. (Hi new patrons! 👋)

If you're wondering what the Patreon money gets used for, it's a mixture of funding extras the comic and supporting Lum's future creative endeavors. This year, we used a big chunk of the funding to commission the Love Bomb portraits for the new Cast Page, which were done by the talented Beajrb (go check out their work!) In the future, some of it may be used for commission work related to the comic, and also for the long term goal for Lum to take some time off their day job to draw comics/make games/etc.

We also asked what else people might like to see us do with the patreon. Right now, we post author commentary on pages with about a 2-chapter lag time, and people seem pretty happy with that over all. There were a few requests for bonus character art, pin ups, or character-asks, and we'll keep that in mind going forward. Since all of us are working full time, there's only limited time we have for making additional content, but who knows what the future holds!

Reader Geography

So where in the world are our readers? Well, I I thought it'd be fun to make this cute little map:

...which turned out to be a huge pain in the ass and a little misleading with the color ranges. So here it is another way:

Our reader base is very American-heavy. Honestly a little moreso than I was expecting? Maybe it's the magnetic charisma of Cliff Mason that keeps drawing them in?

But is it a good comic?

According to our readers, it's a 5.35/5 star comic. Make of that what you will :3

Final Thoughts

At the end of the form, we had an open response box for anything else y'all might want to say to us. And let me just say: y'all blew us away. Thank you so much.

So many of the comments were incredibly kind. People told us about characters they connected to, about how excited they were for to see what happens next. Some of them were sweet, some were horny, some of you compared Foreach to some of OUR favorite webcomics, (which was absolutely unreal to read!) Some of you guys wrote whole freakin' essays! I can't recap everything, but please know that we read every single one of them.

Thank you again for joining us on this journey. Here's to a great 2025--and another year of Freachin' it together!

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 46

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Grian's (Poultryman) pov*

Worm man is the first to go inside the vent, apparently he has a map of the place...you don't question why, Seraphin goes next just after him and you are honestly surprised he managed to fit considering he's a wall of a man and also has giant wings.

You look towards Flame, he motions for you to go.

"I'll be last, it's a precaution."

You nod and jump in as well, soon you hear Flame as he goes in after you.

You crawl around the extremely dusty vents for way too much time by the time that everyone stops and Worm man begins to whisper loudly.

"This stupid vent map"

"Is there... something wrong?"

"The map! It's wrong, the vent should be going left not right!"

You hear Flame groan from behind you. "What? What do you mean?"

"I don't know what's wrong with it."

"Just...pass it to me"

"Here! See??"

"... Hmmm, yeah this thing is- wait."

"Yes?"

"It's upside down? For some reason whoever made this put North on the bottom and South at the top... "

"... Well, that's not my fault, who would even do a map this way?"

"Just...take it and try to keep it in mind."

Oh... you have a thought... Did you havr something to do with that? Considering the way things are transformed when near you it wouldn't be too unlikely. You'll haveto keep that in check much more with three bodies.

You keep crawling trough vents for at least half an hour, you are starting to think it would have been better to just jump in at this point and say screw it to the plan these guys had.

"We're here!"

Nevermind, the plan was a great idea and the most fun ever.

You look down at the grate beneath you, as the others begin listening in you don't really care to do the same, after all this is all stuff you already are listening to trough your other vessel. There is something you do want to do, after a few minutes of espionage you make Mother Spore shush the villains and point to the ceiling.

"It seems we have an audience."

Oh this is so fun, It's been a while since you messed stuff up like this. Feels great.

*Mumbo's pov*

Mother Spore silences everyone again, before you can even wonder what is up with her this time around she points to the ceiling and whispers.

"It seems we have an audience"

From the ceiling vents drop Worm man jumps down and his fellow vigilantes Seraphin, Poultryman and Flame follow suit landing on the table... How long have they been there?

You aren't ashamed to say you end up hiding behind Spore as Flame's hair turn into...well, flames, And Xonorth begins a barrage of tendrils towards him... Nor that you let out a squeak when Doctor Rat turns into ink and melt into the ground...You feel like your reactions are very valid, you are an inventor villain you weren't supposed to be in the middle of a full on fight. That's why you even agreed to work with Mother Spore in the first place.

"How... We should... go Spore."

". . I'll make a way out"

And she does, in an instant most of the wall next to you crumbles... You are going to have to pay Quackity for that won't you...

That's...how did she- nevermind, no time for that.

*Grian's (Mother Spore) pov*

Mumbo tries to leave, you should have expected that, without any weapons on him It's not really fair to him to expect him to fight.

Seraphin does try to go after him but you block him mid-air and push him back...

... This room is way too small for this, you are going to need to bring this fight outside. You grab Mumbo under your arm and drag him off with you.

"Spore!??"

As you make your way outside you see people recording and making calls, you don't have long before the authorities get here... Just means you'll have to do what you can to make the most of such little time.