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thelov3lybookworm · 1 month ago

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Journals (part 2)

Part 1

Summary: new realisations and hauntingly beautiful words

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 2059

Warnings: heavyyyy angst, mental health issues, depression, feeling unworthy of love, panic attack, self harm (alluded to), self hate. thats all i can think of right now, but let me know if i need to add anything

A/n: based on old poetry by @garden-of-runar 🤭i had reblogged them to my drafts on a side blog that i dont use at all, so i couldnt reblog them on my main, but i have put them in the fic, so ig that works🤷🏻‍♀️ also, if i ever write a part 3 (which i might based on feedback) azzie would be the love interest <3

ALSO MY GIRLIE IS SO TALENTED DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED I LOVE THESE POEMS 🥹

(im also tagging people who asked for a part two hope u dont mind <3)

anyways, enjoyyyy!!

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Lying on the ground, despite how it hurt her joints sometimes, was one of Y/n’s favourite pastimes. Maybe because sometimes she did not have the energy to crawl into her bed, but that was not the point.

They hate you.

The hardness of the wood panels was oddly comforting, the way the grains sometimes raised enough for her to feel them with her fingers, the soft creaking when she stepped on them. It reminded her that she was here, that she was alive. That she was getting what she deserved for being so pathetic.

The soft mattress did not give her the same level of comfort. Sure, it was warm and cozy, but did she deserve it?

No.

You deserve this.

You deserve the worst.

Y/n sniffled, lying on her side as she lifted her hand higher next to her, dragging her nails down the planks, the feeling overwhelming in itself but better than not feeling anything. She watched her fingers jerk with the motion, pale and bloodless.

She could feel her tears collecting in a pool and seeping under her cheek. She glanced at the foot of the bed in front of her.

It looks so majestic from down here.

Do people who are worse off think the same way about me?

I don’t want them to. Because I am not worth being thought of like that.

I am nothing. I am pathetic.

It became harder and harder to take in a breath from her nose, as it continued to grow clogged from all her sobbing.

It was one of her least favourite things about crying.

Pathetic.

Stop it!

You’re pathetic. Crying over nothing.

You don’t deserve anything good.

The thoughts kept echoing in her head, louder and louder. She couldn’t breathe any longer.

And it was not because of anything physical.

Her chest began to constrict, forcing her lungs to let out precious air. She tried to breathe it back in, desperately wishing to cling to any remnants of oxygen like a child clinging to its mothers skirts.

Please. Just one inhale.

Her throat tightened.

Just one.

She gasped, futilely trying to breathe one last time to breathe before she knew she would collapse, faint because of the lack of air in her body. It gave her some reprieve, and her eyes focused back to the bed.

The longer she stared at it, the more drowsy she became. Her eyelids were drooping, and she finally, finally decided that maybe letting herself submit to her body’s needs wouldn’t be too bad, if it meant that the thoughts would stop. Maybe if she gave in to the tiredness in her bones after hours of sobbing, her mind would stop being so cruel.

Maybe it would take pity on her.

Maybe.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"We should go out tomorrow!"

Y/n smiled a little. A rare smile that only recently had begun showing on her face.

It wouldn’t be considered a real smile. But it was still there on her face. The tilt of her lips.

We. Not me. We.

They wanted her to be present too.

Cassian jumped up, looking at Y/n with a grin. "I always wanted to take Y/n out to Rita’s."

Her smile grew.

The other members talked, making plans for tomorrow. Slowly, the conversation spiralled, as it always did between them all.

Azriel leaned close to Y/n, whispering jokes in her ear that made her giggle. Rhysand sat on the same couch as Cassian, fighting like children. Mor sat next to Amren, amusement shining in her eyes as she added fuel to the fire, while Amren looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here.

They talked well into the night, politics, food, court gossip bleeding into one another as the time trickled by.

But the moment the conversations wandered into their future, Y/n’s smile faded. She wondered, would they want her to stay in their life?

She didn’t have to wonder long, as the words they uttered were enough to give her peace.

They talked of vacations, of parties and new traditions. Of getting married, of being with their partners. Of celebrating lives and years and months, of celebrating ends and new beginnings.

They talked, and included her.

They talked in ‘we’s’. Not in ‘me’s’.

And that was enough for her little heart to be happy.

For it to heal, for the blood to return to her face.

For her to smile, free and unbidden.

But then, time passed. And just like the sand in an hourglass trickles away, so do all good things.

As she watched, the scene changed from only housing six people in the living room, to adding three more members. And slowly, she was pushed out.

And they began talking in ‘me’s’.

Some ‘we’s’, but it never meant Y/n.

No, it meant them. Them and their partners.

It meant Feyre and Rhysand. Their new lives and baby.

It meant Cassian and Nesta. Their new mating bond and blooming love.

It meant Azriel and Elain. Their growing infatuation.

Y/n doubted the infatuation had ended, as Azriel no longer sat next to Elain at dinners. Lucien’s visits to Velaris had increased too.

But everyone’s visits to Y/n and their thoughts about her had decreased. No one seemed to remember her existence.

And she deserved it.

They chatted among themselves, and the armchair she sat on vanished from under her, leaving her standing knee deep in the freezing snow. Watching from the outside as the warm interior that had seemed so welcoming just a moment ago turned into a nightmare.

Her worst nightmare.

It left her whimpering, leaving her to curl on the cold ground.

All alone, just like she deserved.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

It was almost sunset, and finally, Rhysand had built up the determination to read the damned journal.

He walked downstairs, peering into the living room before stepping in front of it.

Mor had departed after Y/n had left, tears in her eyes. Azriel and Cassian had been sitting in the living room for the whole two hours since then, staring into space, looking haunted and horrified at the way they hadn’t realised what was going on with their friend. Amren too, sat in an armchair in the corner, looking as unbothered as ever. But Rhys saw the cracks. The shifting eyes, the too hard hold on the book she held in her lap, the downward tilt of her lips more pronounced.

"I think it’s time we read the journal."

Four sets of eyes shot up to his figure.

"Are you sure, Rhys?" Cassian mumbled, standing up uncertainly.

Rhys nodded. "It is the only option we have."

Azriel sighed, mirroring Cassian’s movements and moving closer to Rhysand.

Feyre perked up. "What is going on Rhys?"

He clenched his jaw, guilt and regret festering in his gut. He had been so busy in his newfound happiness, so wound up in enjoying every moment with his mate that he had forgotten family. He had forgotten her to the extent his mate didn’t even know what the slight tang of copper in the air meant.

"Nothing, Feyre." He mumbled, turning away.

"Elain was asking-"

"Tell her to stop asking, then." Rhysand froze at the coldness in Azriel’s voice, his eyes going wide. Azriel never used that tone of voice with anyone outside of work, let alone Feyre.

Feyre stepped back, her calves hitting the couch as she stared at her friend in shock. "Az?"

Azriel pushed past Rhysand, making his way towards his study where the journal sat, looking as frustrated and unapologetic as ever.

After a shared glance, Rhysand and Cassian followed, Amren hot on their heels.

Azriel was already seated in one of the chairs at Rhysand’s mahogany desk, his eyes fixed on the journal that lay in the middle, his jaw clenched. He seemed to be the most affected, and Rhys only had the faintest idea why.

The four of them sat in waiting until Mor finally arrived, shutting the door behind her. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she sniffled lightly as she came to stand next to Cassian.

"Rhys, do we really have to read it? It will be an invasion of privacy."

Rhys swallowed. Thought it over. "We don’t really have a choice, do we? We need to figure out the root of this. She won’t tell us if we ask, we know that. Plus, she might already be way down the path of another breakdown after what happened today."

"That is why I think that instead of sitting around on our arses," Azriel ground out, "we should go and check up on her."

Rhys raised a brow, though concern festered in his gut. "Azriel, we’ve been through this before. She will feel worse about herself, thinking she inconvenienced us."

A muscle feathered in Azriel’s jaw, but he said nothing.

And so they began reading.

Rhysand opened a random page, his breath catching at the sudden tang of copper, and began reading. As he stared at the words before speaking them aloud, he remembered seeing the exact poem in a book he recommended to Y/n over fifty years ago.

Forgotten.That is my nameThat is the path I walkIt has been so longI don’t remember what it is like to be seenAnd I spill, my tears lining the path to the woods where my body lies,Forgotten.- from GardenofRunar

Instantly, Rhysand’s blood ran cold. He leaned back, exhaling. The pages were decorated in flowers and hearts, tiny little clouds and doodles in the margins so at odds with the thoughts spilled onto them like a hauntingly beautiful scenery.

At this point, Cassian and the others had moved to peer over Rhys’s shoulder. Rhys watched as Cassan reached over to turn the page with a shaky hand, pulling it back almost instantly as if the page had burned him. There, just above the words was a small handful of doodles, and he knew the small figures resembled the inner circle before Rhys had been taken under the mountain.

The poem was more a letter than anything, except it contained so few letters but thy hit everyone with a guilt so hard it was almost like a mountain fell onto them.

So like Y/n, to say so less yet still make an impact.

I didn’t forget about you.Can you say the same for me?Don’t bother.I know the answer.-GardenOfRunar

Under the poem, were a few words.

The poet is so talented. Every poem of them I read, it makes me want to sob.Maybe because I relate to these. Maybe that’s why.

Quiet sniffles came from Mor, but Rhys turned another page. It was the first page where blood began dotting the corners, a few drops on the center of the page veining out towards the edges, as if trying to exit but being unable to.

The almost poeticness of the sight was not lost on them. The blood droplets were almost like Y/n, trying to escape a cruel mind but unable to.

My friends are living lives, and I’m trudging through a million little days,Wasting away.- GardenofRunar

A hand snaked towards the book, slamming it shut. Rhysand jumped, his eyes flying to the owner of the scarred hand that appeared.

"Enough." His voice was still, quiet, but so cold it could freeze even the summer court over. And Rhysand knew. He was blaming himself for not paying attention to Y/n.

Rhys nodded, feeling guiltier by the second.

Everyone went back to their places, sitting in silence. Contemplating.

Wondering how they had become so oblivious to the point that they couldn’t see what was right in front of them the entire time.

The regret, the sadness was heavy in the air. It was getting hard to breathe it in.

Finally, Azriel stood, grabbing the book.

Then he turned, and walked out the door without a word, his wings pulled tight against his back.

And Rhysand wondered again.

Was this just some friendly concern, some self blame, or something else entirely?

Needless to say, suspicion took root. But guilt and hate overwhelmed it once more, and the family was left to sit and roil in it.

To wonder, how could they have been so busy that they ignored such an important part of them?

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

(ps. the first part in the memories/dreams Y/n has is based off this poem

You talk in ‘we’s’ Not ‘me’s’ And it heals my heart, just a little. Puts a smile on my face, just a little. You talk about a future One with me in it And I feel the color Return to my face. Just a little. - Runar

)

@velarisnightsky444 @fasoaurore @anainkandpaper @urfunnyvalentin3 @gabbiskylar01

Permanent Taglist: @berryzxx @sarawritestories @milswrites @throneofsmut

@daycourtofficial @sweetorangeblossom @serenescureforboredom @cassie6392 @harrystylesfan2686

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Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

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nena-la-fresa · 4 months ago

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can i ask u a Josh Washigton x reader request? I would love to read an scenario were its the reader's birthday🥹

Keep It Warm

18+ Account | Minors DNI | Do NOT Follow, Like, or Comment | Pls have your age in your bio, if you do not I will automatically block you because I’ll assume you are a minor.

Pairing: Josh Washington x f! Reader

Warning: Fluff | A tiny bit of Angst | Mental Institution Mentioned | Birthday |

Word Count: 685

A/n: Hopefully this is okay. I feel like I can’t make a Josh fic without some sort of angst. Sorry it's super short. I have a lot of class assignments due this week so my focus is on that rn. Off topic but I'm thinking about making a Mr.Robot fic. Im back in my Rami Malek era.

“You are receiving a call from Ocean View Hospital. Would you like to accept?”

“Yes.”

The line was then connected.

“Hey sweetheart. How are you?” You could hear his sly look through the phone.

You leaned against the wall fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“I’m good. How about yourself?” You missed hearing his voice.

“I’m good now.”

“Oh are you really?”

“Yeah. I’m just glad I get to hear you talk. It’s a good distraction from all this.”

“I’m glad I can distract you for a bit.”

You had been friends with Josh since you both were little. You had always known something was a bit different with him. But it wasn’t until you both started dating that you had fully known the extent of his condition. Josh would wake up during the night screaming, he’d have a hard time recognizing you at times.

“So my birthday’s coming up.”

“It is, isn't it.”

“Do you think you’ll finally be out by then?”

“I’m not too sure babe. But if I’m doing better by then you'll be the first to know.”

You felt slightly disappointed but you knew he was in there to get the help he needed.

That was 3 weeks ago.

You hadn’t heard from Josh since that last phone call. He hadn’t been returning your letters or phone calls. You had begun to assume the worst. What if he didn’t want to talk to you anymore? Or what if he regressed? What if his meds stopped working. Even when you asked Hannah and Beth they hadn’t been able to contact him either.

All you could think about was the day you found him. You could still see it. He was passed out on the floor. He was unresponsive for a good minute before you had to throw cold water on him. He was sobbing, saying how he wasn’t good enough for you. Saying that he didn’t deserve you. But those sobs quickly turned to anger, not at you but to whatever was talking around him. He swatted trying to get the voices away from him. But what really did it for him was when he accidentally hit you. The guilt that he felt, he didn’t mean it. He wasn’t aiming for you. He couldn’t even see you with his delusions tormenting him. That was what really made him commit himself.

Hannah knew how upset you were but she thought it would be a good idea to take you to the cabin for your birthday. You had always said it was your favorite place to go.

You and Hannah were already making your way to the cable cart, “Didn’t you say Beth was going to meet us here?”

Hanna turned slightly to you, “Yeah, she got cold and just texted me that she was going to go ahead to the cabin.”

You nodded. After the walking you could finally see the cabin in sight. It was just as beautiful as you remembered it. Hannah held the door open for you as you walked in first. You felt your body jolt from the yelling.

“Surprise!” Little poppers and kazoos echoed through the room.

“Aw you guys.” You felt your eyes tear up a bit. From the excitement but also from the disappointment. Out of all the faces there, the one you wanted the most wasn’t there.

You let out a surprised scream feeling someone picking you up from behind. As soon as you were set back down you saw who it was.

Until you felt someone pick you up from behind

It was him.

“What did you think I forgot?”

You felt the tears run down your face. You nodded slightly.

"Now why would I forget about you."

You hugged him tightly, feeling his arms wrap around you.

“When did they let you out?”

“About three days ago.”

“Why didn't you tell me”

“I wanted to surprise you. I'm sorry”

“No, I'm just so happy. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I promise I won’t miss another one.”

He wiped your tears, “I missed you so much. I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I promise.”

#xreader #x reader #josh washington #josh washington x reader #josh x reader #until dawn #until dawn x reader

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winterrrnight · 9 months ago

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Ever since I first read your blurb abt rafe calling reader a goddess, all I can think about is how husband!rafe is such a big bad provider. Like he makes sure wife knows that whatever is his, is hersss, and always putting his card down to pay for everything (loads of shopping sprees) and makes sure wife is happy, taken care of (emotionally, physically, mentally) and comfortable in her own self, their home, etc. And everyone in the whole WORLD knows they are both off limits, like we all know rafe doesn’t play abt his wife 😭. I think im obsessed w this idea bc i want that irl 😫, this blog is my safe space 🫶🏾

part of this little universe <3

OH YES I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS!!!! husband!rafe's top priority is his wife and his wife only!!! he's always paying for her, even though I do believe wife!reader would have her own job too (more on that here) (but that of course depends on the reader, that's just my idea), but still, he is the provider, he's always spoiling his wife in the best way possible, buying her gifts literally all the time, suprising her with jewelry, clothes, shoes; whatever the reader loves and prefers.

he takes care of her in every aspect, just as you said. talking about emotionally and mentally, he never ever lets her have a pout on her face, always ready to listen to what she wants to say, being the person she can so easily confide in, with returning all of that back to him too.

talking about physically, he is obsessed, and I mean, OBSESSED, with every inch of her skin. he would kiss the ground she walks on if he could. he's always touching her in one way or the other, if they're out, they are holding hands, or his arm is around her shoulders or her waist, or his hand in his back pocket, no matter what, he needs that closure.

and if they're in their own private space, he'll kiss whatever part of her skin he can. he loves peppering kisses over her face, her neck, her shoulders, her belly, her chest, her thighs, her calves, her ankles... oh he's doing that and he's murmuring gentle praises always to her!!!

rafe doesn't play about his wife and reader doesn't play about rafe either!!!! talking about them in public again, they aren't into that much pda but they're still subtly touching as I said before, it's like 'private but not a secret' type of thing. it's a well established fact that who is rafe cameron's (basically the owner of the entire island) wife, and no one, absolutely no one dares to say anything to her.

whenever they go out, rafe doesn't have any restrictions on reader about what she can or can't wear. he lets her wear anything she wants to, he worships her in it and reminds her she looks like a goddess, and if he catches someone staring at her in the wrong way, you best know he's breaking that person's jaw.

awwww omg that is SUCH a sweet thing to say!!! 🥹🥹💗💗 I'm so glad my blog feels like your safe space, you're welcome here literally any time!!! 💘💘💘

send me any husband!rafe or rafe/drew/zach thoughts you may have! <3 (sfw only! + slightly suggestive content is okay)

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red-doll-face · 17 days ago

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Snow Angel 12

Chapter 12: reverance Series Masterlist

low - medium honor Arthur Morgan x fem. Reader

Arthur has been living by himself, laying low (for real this time) somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. After the whole Pinkerton and Micah debacle, he has been hiding away, waiting for it all to blow over, occasionally getting letters from the people who still know that he’s alive. He’s been alone awhile and at first, he thought he could handle a little loneliness. He has been wrong before. Lucky for him, you look like the perfect thing to break up the monotony.

Warnings: dubious consent, arthur’s mental health is kind of not so good…VERY low honor Arthur, darkish fic, a bit of naive reader. Reader has dated and period typical ideals, not very good ideas about men and marriage… if you want reader to be strong and a fighter… this is not for you sorry. suggestive themes. big smut scene for v day, oral, vaginal, the works. reader sits on arthurs face lol it what she deserves WC: 7383 Hello snow angels : ) chool has been killing me, work has been killing me, life has been killing me, THIS CHAPTER has been killing me... BUT WERE BACK!!! finally, I have this ch in a place i sort of like it, im sorry this took so long. I hope yall like it and happy valentines day from snow angel arthur 🫢🥰💖😊🥹💓😈 Tags: no TB, weird but not that toxic relationship, Arthur being a menace.Arthur being a complete sweetie hes so happy awww - The life you live with Arthur is almost picture perfect.

You wake with a warm hand rubbing your thigh. Slow stroking motions, rough fingertips glancing over your skin. They dip inward towards the center a little. Eyelashes that rim your lids part and you moan softly, it’s warm and dark and you’d love to sleep more.

Arthur’s awake already, petting his hands down your thigh, on your side, the blanket has bunched towards the other side of you. You whine and wiggle away.

He wears down your thin resistance like a whetstone. Drags you, wets you, taking you across the fine surface until you reach a place that he likes. Each of his sweet actions take you there. Like these mornings, something out of a story book. Something that feels too good to be proper. Most of the things that he does here in this bed have that quality.

He pulls you back, pinning your hips to his. It’s become somewhat of a routine with Arthur, he wakes in the morning and observes you awhile. As if it was the first night you had come and that morning, he could hardly believe you weren’t a dream. You suppose loneliness had that effect on him.

Although now, he proves it to himself. Touches your hair or your back, squeezing your hips and if he’s feeling particularly pushy, he’ll wake you by softly squeezing at your breast.

You would like to deny you have a favorite but it most certainly is when he kisses your hair until you wake. Puts soft kisses that pull you right out of your dreams just behind your ear. Today though, his fingers press against the curve of your hip.

“You awake yet?” his own voice rasps with sleep.

“No…” you huff and he chuckles at you. You rub your cheek into the feathered pillow, trying not to ruin your sleeping state by opening your eyes too much. You flinch and try to get farther away but his arm is tight around you, dragging fingers over your belly

“Aw, I’m sorry, princess. Did I wake you?” He huffs between a laugh. He isn’t sorry one bit and you know it.

“Arthur, you’re incorrigible,” you mutter into the pillow. His chest hair and the trailing fuzz down his middle brushes against your back, his strong arm pulls you closer by your hip. You’re swallowed by his heavy presence, the smell of him (all musk and salt, fire and pine sap) , his breath over your ear. You lean into his softness as well, his belly against you feels so warm. Bristles of his beard scratch over your shoulder.

“Can never keep your hands to yourself, can you?” You put your palm over the top of his hand, little hairs tickle your fingers; rigid knuckles and working man’s hands with their veins and knicks, rough spots. Prying them away would not work so you do not bother. Strength isn’t something you have in common with Arthur. Especially not when you sense the power of him, lying in wait.

“My pretty wife in bed, n’ you want me to keep my hands to myself. Shows how much you know about me,” you smile a little, your eyes flutter open slowly, the world is this room for now. Arthur’s bedroom. The smell of cedar, faint smoke, and wintertime sweat that clings to the blankets. There’s thick quilts, plain blue and red, with a hint of decorative elements in the careful stitching. And a thick wool blanket, rumpled and slept in.

His voice is perfect like this in the mornings, rumbled into the delicate pieces of your ear while he holds you in the messy nest of blankets you have, gathered here. Entirely limp for him to touch, like clay to mold. With Arthur, it can be easy to feel that way, his hand clasps over you.

Within the dusty pages of your etiquette books, dull printed letters outlined how a lady should manicure herself each morning so as to please her husband when he woke. How she should fix her coiffure, make sure her appearance measures up to the impeccability required of her. But Arthur doesn’t seem to care about any of that. He kisses you though you haven't cleaned yet, breathes deeply into your scalp. No part of him minds if you wake with tangled hair, or if you wake looking less like a portrait, rubbing sleep out of your eye.

Instead, he lays on his back, sitting up in bed a little, your head on his chest. That’s all before he pats his lap and you clamber over him. He looks at you too softly, marvels; with his eyes, they make blue seem so much warmer. Arthur is easy to indulge, he likes when you touch him anywhere, over the planes of his chest, thick with muscle, over his collar bones. His breath quickens, he’ll grumble these low noises when you scratch a little at all of his fuzz.

Just the fact that you're here brings him a satisfaction you had never seen in a man. As if there isn’t any other want in him that needs to be sated. Nothing you can’t fix. That’s what he tells you anyway. “Don’t need a damn thing but you, angel,”. Like he could do without air, he’d just breathe what you have in your lungs with kisses, could drink the slick you leak between your thighs for water. Could lick the salt from your skin for food. You don’t think you’ve been able to be without Arthur for more than a minute or two before he comes around looking. Perhaps he fears that if he should stop looking at you, you’d disappear. Out of sight, out of mind.

You’ve become accustomed to it. Inclined to it, even. You start to get nervous without him too. Though you talk yourself into being more composed, it doesn’t put sense into you like you want it to.

In the kitchen, you start to cook, while Arthur tends to the fire, then he’ll get more wood if he has to later. You have ice cold butter and flour so you make biscuits, fluffy and tempting, in a cast iron skillet. You fry some thick cut pieces of venison and with its drippings, you stir together a gravy. Arthur likes to watch, wrapping arms around you, dipping lower to observe. He hums deeply in satisfaction. Surrounded by him, you relax slightly.

“Looks good, smells even better,” you turn over your shoulder, accepting a surprise kiss he gives you. He tries to make it last longer. Swishing his tongue past your teeth. You make an errant noise. It turns into a squeak when his hand descends onto your ass. You part with huff.

“If I burn this food…”

“Alright, alright… what needs doin’ ‘round here, you like to leave a mess,” He pokes at you, you roll your eyes. But you do appreciate how he doesn’t sit around like your father does. You told him how you liked it when he helped you, you washed the dishes together. Your hands pruned and so did his. He rubbed your arm and you felt the little ridges. It made you smile. He made a point to try and join you in the things that you do around his home. Your home, the home you maintain together now.

You watch as he eats and hardly leaves a crumb on the plate. Powdery white light shines through the window in the small kitchen, it’s not the sunlight but it’s still nice to have something to float through the glass. Perhaps you’d take some fresh air, Arthur takes the horses out sometimes and you know Lucky can use a bit of a walk around, even if in the cold.

“Could eat your cookin’ for the rest of my life,”

“I’m afraid that’s what you’ve brought upon yourself,” you sigh, “it’s all average fair, I assure you,”

“I ate slop for years. Average fair’s like heaven’s banquet,” you scoff a small laugh.

“Your gunslinging days didn’t feed you well?” You don’t plan on eating anymore so you stand to clear some of the dishes. Arthur starts to do so as well, pouring cold coffee out into the basin.

“Nah, if I had time to eat, it was fresh game or Pearson’s stew,”

“Stew? Stewed what?”

“Half the time…I had no idea,” he’s leaning against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. You find Arthur’s piercing gaze after you settle into an easy laugh. You tilt your head, placing more of your dirty dishes onto the stack. Observing you is a strange passion of Arthur’s. He pretends as if he’s not watching every move you make, his face isn’t tense, he’s rather relaxed.

But he’s sharp. The only thing that consoles you about it is the satisfied and pleased air that he has. You’ve grown used to how much he likes to be at your side. Like he aches for it. And in some ways, you do too. You want him there.

Roving his eyes over you, he has his big rough hands on your hips and waist. Sinking his fingers into you, like he’s always done that, always held you. Too natural then, is your willingness to give him what he wants. He captures you there in his gaze, the same blue as a springtime sky. Gently, you touch him too over the soft cotton of his shirt, the weave of his suspenders. You brace your hands on him.

“Can we take the horses out?” You give him your best pleading pout, digging at his weakness for you. Very rarely does he concede to you. He has firm rules and expectations but you use the way he cares for you to your advantage at times. He gives you his opposition, hopefully only at first. His brows tighten together, and his hands hold your bare shoulders. His fingers play with the delicate strap of the soft simple shift you wear. He stares down at you while you try not to back down.

“We?”

“Arthur, we’ve been out riding before, haven’t we?” You know the answer and so does he. He looks away, out to the window. He removes one of his warm hands to start rubbing over his shoulder. His deliberation creases more of the lines over his face.

“Then why can’t we go? I’ll even help you brush them, muck the stalls—,”

“You don’t need to do all that, won’t have you out there shovelin’ horse shit… jus’,” he nods to himself. Then he locks his eyes on yours, takes a breath to look at you. You blink up at him, anticipating some negative answer. “You can come along once I’m done but only because you’re real cute when you’re beggin’,” your smile makes him do the same, you press close to him where he accepts you in his arms.

You feel flushed, but you still nod eagerly. Arthur lets you dress to go out. You rush to the bedroom to put on some riding pants. All of these clothes, you have Arthur to thank for. You don’t want your mind to linger on why for too long.

You step out into the living room where Arthur gives you a teasing smile. “Ain’t you all excited. Did I agree to take you to the circus or somethin’?” You frown slightly, looking up at him while he shrugs his bear skin coat over his shoulders. He sweeps some of his golden hair away from his eyes, before adjusting his hat over his head. You adjust your boots, the new ones that he bought for you in town. They’re shiny and brown, with pretty tooling at the top, swirling filigree. The nicest boots you’ve ever been given.

“Arthur…”

“I don’t want you wanderin’ off,” his voice drops down from his teasing.

He sits down beside you, adjusting you so he can help tighten the laces that he ties at just under your knee. He pats his knee for you to put your other leg up. His fingers are more efficient and he pulls your laces tighter than you would. When he’s done, there is a gentle tap on your ankle. He stands and one of his hands is extended to you, to help you to your feet. You sigh, preparing yourself to leave the fire that swells in the hearth, just in front of the sofa in the main room.

“I mean it,” somehow his voice drops even lower. “Don’t make me go chasin’ after you,”

“I won’t,” A smirk curls over his face and he looks down, one of his hands coming up to tilt your chin a smidge upwards. Always so gentle when you say what he wants to hear.

“Good girl.”

You step out onto the porch together, some of the snow has been swept into neat lines by the wind, beautifully glazed over. The sky is a solid tone of gray, undisturbed by any blue upsets. It leaves the entirety of the landscape looking a little dreary in startling shades of white, burnt shades of green. Arthur pauses strangely. Stares out at the treeline a moment. He relaxes after a second but he had been wound so tightly, you can tell just how much tension he let go. You look out but can’t see anything.

“Arthur?” he doesn’t respond the first time. It’s a little worrying. The breeze zips past, brushing against your cheeks and nose. You delicately touch his shoulder. He looks down at your mittened hand on the hide of his coat. Saying his name again does snap some awareness in him and he releases an uneven sigh, puffing air from his nose, it turns into vapor. His brow is quick to pull into its well used expression of ‘not quite happy’ and his jaw shifts under all of that brambly hair.

“C’mon,” he says, as if you were the one who paused for a moment on his porch to stare at nothing. Trudging through the snow is much easier when it’s not 2 feet high. In the stable, Lucky is very excited to see you. And you are happy to see him too. He shakes a little, doing a little trot in his stall. Swiping gently over his long snout, patting over his strong neck. You cling to this constant in your life, Lucky.

Arthur lets you help brush their coats. Every once in a while, you look up from your task to catch him looking. And then he makes some crude joke about your horse “shitting twice as much as his does”.

“How I hate to inconvenience you so, Mr. Morgan,” he stands and rests his hands on the handle of the spade he’s using.

“Gettin’ snippy on me, girl?” Your fingers continue their work as you observe him, his lopsided smile and the film of sweat from his hard work.

“I could never,” he shakes his head and goes back to what he was doing. You smile quietly to yourself.

Trotting out in the snow does bring a smile to your face. You watch the wind trail over the surface of the landscape, brushing over the evergreen needles and bare branches like teeth of a comb.

“Who is Pearson?” you ask, gently leading Lucky. For being such a heavy horse to handle, he listens well. The world exists in this strip of wintery landscape. Soft and hard aspects of nature all at once. Bird song and elk calls. “You said a name, someone who made your infamous slop, I think,” You turn to Arthur who has a little nod and something of a tilt to the left side of his mouth. He handles his horse easily too.

“Navy man, turned camp cook. And you could tell he was the cook; portly bastard. He might not have made a particularly appetizing stew but it did the job, feedin’ some twenty people,” He doesn’t talk too much about his old life. You know it brews under the surface. These stories of a life he lived long ago. But those memories are tender still, when you touch some of them, he flinches away like you’ve pressed into a wound, a deep purple bruise. Physical pain is something he hardly minds at all. You remember you had seen him knick himself while shaving, while you had fussed he had watched on, endeared.

You nod. Prying isn't your intention. But you grow curious. “That's quite a few people. I can’t imagine too many of them were women; do outlaws marry?” He takes a moment to think. You give him time to form his answer.

“We wasn’t always in the habit of marryin’. Hosea, he had a wife. Bessie. Dutch had Miss O’Shea, but they wasn’t married. Dutch weren’t exactly the marryin’ kind. He likes… affairs. John wouldn’t know a good woman if she slapped him in the face,” he says so many names, as if you know them but they’re like faded photographs. Maybe they were in a way, those blurred images in his bedroom. The courage to pick them up keeps escaping you. These people must have been close to him.

“Affairs?”

“Dutch kept that girl strung along but when it got bad, he…let her go so to speak. When Bessie died, Hosea never so much as looked at another woman, at least in the same way. Don’t even think he was the same after she passed on,”

“I’m sorry to hear that happened to him,” you don’t want to push. But you do preserve these brief moments where he divulges pieces of his past. You do your best to remember the names so that if he decided to tell you more, you’d recognize these pieces to put together.

“Yeah…” He dips his head low, the brim of his hat covers his eyes. He sighs, low and quiet. The wind whistles by. Some of your hair blows past, your fingers come to adjust it. Currant shakes, the jingles of his reins fill the simple gap between his words. He bows to pay his horse a little bit of attention, telling him how good he’s been. The sight puts a small smile on your features.

He focuses forward, at the horizon out in front of you. The gentle scene of winter’s serenity calms you, riding along with Arthur. He continues and you turn to listen. “Couple other women, too. Livin’ rough is hard for a man, worse for the girls. Miss Grimshaw ran them girls with an iron fist,” he laughs almost, something close to it.

“What did they do?”

“Everybody did their part. Mostly it was washin’ for the girls. Only that O’Driscoll boy could make tendin’ to horses look like a ladies past time.”

“O’Driscoll? I thought you didn’t like them,” you question.

“Only thing O’Driscolls was good for was dyin’. But really, it was Dutch who hated them. They killed his woman. I think he was more mad that they was the ones who killed her; more than that she was gone,” You nod. Lucky continues on, ambling on in the snow, snorting loudly. The snow crunches under his hooves, crossing over a small creek has Arthur telling you to be careful.

“Other than that, we wasn’t too different in the end. Dutch could play at it; wantin’ freedom or some other load of bullshit. But we was alike more than anythin’,” His voice becomes embittered. The grit of his vocal cords denotes it. And so does his hand, which shakes out at his side, before he places it easily at his thigh.

“Do you miss it? Being an outlaw?” He looks at you, slouched over his saddle but he straightens, staring ahead. His face twists. His gloves hand rubs at his jaw before he brings both of his hands together, rubbing them.

“We should head back,” there’s hardly any room for argument in his tone but you try anyway.

“Arthur, it hasn’t been that long,”

“Nah, it’s too goddamn cold anyhow, hate this damn snow,” you do drag your feet, or Lucky’s hooves a little but even that upsets Arthur. He mutters more about the temperature. You pat at Lucky’s neck, giving him your sweet words.

“Aw, you aren’t too cold, are you? No, you’re very brave! Yes, you are,” Arthur gives you an irritated look. You smile up at him. Lucky almost seems to nod at your praise, turning over his shoulder a bit. You’d give him a treat when you got back to the little stable he called home now.

You sigh as you get inside, having tried to knock the snow off your boots outside but some still clings to you. Dressing down takes a lot longer than expected but you’re flattered that Arthur takes his time to help you get out of your boots. You try to tell him you can handle it but he insists that you need it. You quiet down, letting him do as he pleases. Then he kisses you on the crown of your head and sends you off to the bedroom to get out of your clothes. You nod and start to change into the slip you usually wear around the house. You do it more than quick enough to remain unattended by your overly attentive keeper. Or husband.

You check behind you at the open door but you can hear him doing things in the living room. Carefully, you approach the bedside table. There are framed photographs which, although you sleep beside them, have not taken the time to look at with any thought.

Examining the faces, you pick it up, as quiet as a mouse. There are three men and one stands proudly in the center, like a religious picture. The yellowed tinge makes the pigment look almost green, it must be quite old. The figure on the right is slouched over, holding a cigarette and the other two look to be not quite as young as him. You wonder if one of them is this Dutch figure. You aren’t sure, perhaps one of them is John or Pearson? You don’t want to take the photograph from its frame. That would be far too conspicuous. You’re about to set it down but you almost drop it instead.

“Nosy girl, ain’t ya?” You whip to face Arthur, your neck almost aches with the motion. He leans casually against the door frame, hands on his belt. Your heart jumps and your belly aches with panic.

“I was only-” You rush to explain. He pushes off and comes close with a soft sigh, rubbing his hand over the lower half of his face. He holds out that same hand.

“Give it here, honey,” you hand it to him, expecting him to scold you and put it back. Instead he sits on the bed, patting his knee. You sit on him, trying not to put too much of your weight on him in an attempt to seem daintier than you are. Arthur obstinately drags you fully onto him with a soft grunt.

“All those stories made you curious? You wanna know more ‘bout all this… shit?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” His eyes flick to yours. As if in disbelief, like he thought you’d turn him away. Arthur acts as if you should. But you want to know him.

“We were thieves. Deluded thieves at that. Nothin’ worse than a man who has no idea what he is,” You move some of your hair out of your face, so close to Arthur, you watch as he stares at the photograph. It’s like he’s trying to scare you out of wanting to know more. He had told you he was an outlaw. That night that he and he alone ordained you. Two souls joined for eternity. You frown. Perhaps you’re meant to be scared, meant to be horrified by all of the sordid details. “You don’t…”

“I do. Because-because I feel like…I’m a stranger,” you have touched something of his again, some spot that you dig your thumb into. A brown spot over an apples skin which gives way, pushing mush out over the sides. He’s quiet for a while. Chewing on your words like gristle, thinking them over. You’ve given him pause. You see him at war with himself and you can always tell. His brows pinch, his posture closes in a little. You do mean what you say. Everything is always out of order, unconventional with him. The very nature of your relationship is odd, you had never heard of such a thing, except perhaps in your grandmother's book of legends in the Grecian variety. The lord of the underworld had taken the goddess of spring from her mother. Stored her away.

“That there is Hosea,” he sighs eventually. He doesn’t address your words, only aims to correct his actions. “He’s gone now. Died when we was set up in that goddamned cesspit, Lenny died that day too. The rest of us was lucky to get away on a boat, ended up washed up on an island. Wasn’t even there to help bury the ol’ bastard. But you’d never seen a tongue more silver.” you lay on his shoulder, at ease in his warmth, in his presence. You point to the young man on the right.

“And who’s that?”

“Darlin’, do I really look all that different?” You almost don’t believe him, looking between him and the photograph.

“That’s you?” You look again at the smooth face in the photograph. His hair looks a lot darker too. He spreads his legs in the chair; you do see Arthur do that a lot. He has the same sharp eyes. But he hasn’t gotten the bulkiness that is Arthur now. Broad chest and shoulders, strong and sturdy.

“Jesus, girl, you know how to make a man feel young,” you giggle, tilting your head and taking the photograph.

“Arthur Morgan, you’re too foolish. It’s just…maybe the beard?”

“Jus’ the beard, sure,” you absentmindedly rub your ankle down his leg, relaxing further into his lap. Losing yourself in such a close moment, you continue.

“Well, I don’t mind your scruff. I quite like it on you,” a shy smile pushes at your cheeks.

“Mm, do you, now?” His smile is all too smug. You nod, turning away at your own honesty. He rubs his cheek against yours on one long motion, his arm is steady at your back, keeping you steady on his thigh. You huff and wiggle.

“Not so much when you’re trying to give me a burn with it,” You press your fingers into his cheek. He doesn’t pay you any mind, rubbing his beard when he puts kisses all over your neck. It tickles, and you try to bring your cheek to your shoulder. To no avail, though, he quits all on his own. He’s got that look in his eye, he wants something.

“Yeah, the only place you want all scratched up is here, ain’t it?” His right arm holds you close while his left hand inches up your thigh, dragging the hem of your slip up with him. His fingers brush against your inner thigh, petting along the sensitive skin. He takes advantage of how your body is inclined to his touch. Not so quick to let go of your protective instinct, you try to shake your head at his obscenities.

“That’s-that’s not true…”

“Then where else d’you want it?” Your face is surely showing how much he pushes at your modesty again. Dripping down from somewhere is a puddle of heat, gathering in what feels like just behind your belly button, some awful temptation for him to fulfill. You can feel some small whiny thing in you pleading for him to do what he pleases but you have to cling to what little denial you have before he comes to destroy it anyway.

“Must you make me say things all the time?” You’re desperately trying to defend yourself but like he said. There isn’t much use to defying nor denying him.

“I don’t make you say a goddamn thing. Go ahead, darlin’, keep pushin’ me,” His tone borders on irritation. You sigh and look down to where his hands continue to squeeze at your thigh.

“When you put scratches all over… I-I like that too,”

“There’s my girl,” You don’t say anything, letting him lay you down, relaxing for him. His praise sways you so, you bend and break for it. Your body still shivers at the suggestive position he lays you down in, dragging the hem of your slip up to stare at your form. You’ve never exactly seen what he sees. Your nudity in the mirror has never been anything special to you. But Arthur takes in the sight, feeling what he wants to feel.

“Look at you, you’re jus’ perfect, jus’ fine…” his thumbs press into hips. He spreads your legs, fighting the brief closure you have. Arthur’s flattery does help you sink into the mattress, parting your legs. It isn’t unsettling as it was, being immersed in his praise is comforting as it is confusing.

He helps your arms out of the little straps that keep your shift on your shoulders. Laying nude with only your stockings, you can feel the chill in the air. But Arthur does as he said he would. The prickly hairs he shaves into stubs get dragged not too harshly against the sensitive flesh of your underbelly, while you squirm. He lays kiss after kiss against your skin, razing over you, the sweetest burn of his scruff on you. Your fingers rather pointlessly tangle in his hair for some sort of leverage to ground you.

Before you know why, he’s stopped. You expected him to continue into some lewd act of his. Dipping his tongue inside of the little slit between your legs until it gets slick enough for his pleasure. The waves of ecstasy would push you to the edge and he would give you sugary praises, words of your belonging.

Instead, he looks up at you. You’re… disappointed. More than you have any right to be. Any desire to be but it simmers low in you. You had wanted that, had wanted him to do that, swiping his hot tongue over the button at the very top of your slit. Quietly, he denies you. You must be pouting because he chuckles at you.

“I ain’t sure I’m convinced you know what you want outta me. C’mere and show me,”

“Show you? I don’t understand,” you shy away, wishing you knew more about what he meant.

“You’re always so polite; ‘please’ this, ‘thank you’ that. Ask me real pretty, I might just have to say yes,” Arthur props himself up over you, his weight on your hips pins you down. He’s playing with you.

Soot kicked up the broom, your own contentious emotions fill your chest. He wants you to ask him. To beg him to give you pleasure.

“Do wives often beg for their husbands attention?”

“My wife does; least when she wants somethin’ special. Maybe I just like seein’ you all flustered. Tell me what you need, sweetheart, can’t give it to ya if I ain’t got a clue what it is,” You bite your lip. You’re already held under Arthur. You can play your own games.

“Arthur… I need my husband,” you can tell that you’ve hit something special, like a dog who kicks his leg. His eyes sharpen but his smug expression goes slack a little. “You are my husband, aren’t you? That’s what you say,” There’s that look, you’re continuing to push on him, to get his reaction. Even as he bears his weight down on you, as he grips tighter at your thigh.

Arthur is hardly as playful and cocky as he was a moment ago. As if you’ve sobered him with your words from the joy he was getting from your slight humiliation. Now, he falls for your teasing. You say teasing. But you find your own words to be too genuine.

He breathes deeply in the dip of your neck, you don’t flinch at the burn of his cheek against the sensitive skin. Though it tickles you, your raw emotions leave your thoughts popping like soap suds. His huff fans the warmth of him on your throat. His broadness encompasses you, you feel entirely too small but you do so love the feeling of him taking your body as comfort. Cradled naturally by the softness of your body. As if carved for each other.

“I want you to come set yourself on me,” you feel warm with your own excitement, “set this pretty pussy on me, wanna lick it clean,”

He’s helping you up, adjusting you so you can prop your thighs either side of his head, avoiding the weight he insists on putting on himself. What an odd idea, more concepts you wouldn’t dare imagine, lest you tempt the devil in ways you had always been told would end in death. His hands are only determined, all too strong, he handles you with efficiency.

“Are men and women…meant to do this?” You whisper, unsure still but he quiets you with a gentle nip to your inner thigh.

“No, darlin’, jus’ husbands and wives,” It’s a soft murmur. Whatever plan you had to poke at his devotion backfires on you. A strange feeling descends on you instead. A curl of sincerity over his words and you’re faltering. You end up here often, losing your footing and falling in line with him. In his rough hands, playing right into them.

He has his arms dragging you flush against him, your slit pressing plushly against his mouth. You squeak at his wet tongue, slipping over you, your hands holding on to the wood of the headboard and your back arching. Over and over, he licks the same path, the slick sounds are all you can hear. A filthy and relieved sigh passes by your lips, your mouth parted as you tilt your head back. You rock gently without even particularly noticing, diving into your natural instinct. Finding pleasure on the tip of his tongue like you’ve always done so.

And his beard does scratch. It scratches until your inner thighs are raw; you can’t bring yourself to stop. More moaning is pried from you, your body feeling the tightness of arousal and the jerkiness of your rhythmic movements over his tongue. Your own wetness is a sloppy mess, soaking your thigh. Arthur’s fingers dig deeply into them, he presses you roughly against him, dipping his tongue inside of you, licking you like you taste of sugar.

Then his tongue plays with that button, when he touches it, it’s as if it had ached for it all along, you can’t remember a time when it hadn’t been nearly hurting with the need to be rubbed around by his tongue. You let his name slip from your mouth. That action puts you in a trance where all you want is him. Perhaps you had been a clueless little fool playing with matches but you didn’t mind if the result was Arthur fervently proving himself between your legs. But he stops again, depriving you.

He’s pinning you down against the fabric of the sheets, smiling at you while you whine and cry, wiggling against him.

“I know, sweetheart,” he pants, clearly having been too busy doing other things to keep his breathing steady. He takes advantage of how intense you feel, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles around the soft flesh of your entrance. It’s far too gentle to feel as good as his tongue but you move your hips towards it anyway.

“Still too proud to beg, pretty girl?”

You whine, of course Arthur has to get his way. Just as he makes you feel as if you got yours. You whimper when he sinks one of his fingers inside.

“Arthur, please, please…I want— want you, please,”

He’s clumsily shoving his pants and suspenders down, tugging buttons out of their closure. Forceful kisses press into your lips, you wonder briefly what it's like to do what he’s done but it must taste like this, you taste him, bitter like coffee but sweet with liquor and the strange note of your own arousal. You’ve never had anything like it before.

Arthur heaves a sigh in your mouth, propping your legs up, your hands tangled in his hair, scratching at his scalp. He hardly wastes any time trying to push inside.

The rush only makes it ache, your hips try to wiggle away, your thighs tensing up. He hisses a sharp cuss, a startling sound. Satisfaction settles within you. He doesn’t let your wriggling stop him from pushing until he has his balls against you.

“Keep at it, jus’ — shit, jus’ say that again,” he gasps and you indulge. Telling him you want him, need him, isn’t so hard anyway. It isn’t a lie, as much as you want it to be, for your own sake. To say it is to mean it now.

“Need you, Arthur, please,”

“Good girl, my good girl, all f’r me,” he’s dazed, eyes hardly open, put there by your admittances.

It’s almost shameful how much you like the way he stretches you on him. How good it feels for him to take you, but you’re his wife. It’s what he tells you, over and over. He's said it to you all week. Every night when he had pried these intense peaks of pleasure from you, mussing the sheets, staining them with your slick and his spend.

Your mind is plied, limp and hazy, you spread your thighs easily, let him take as he is supposed to. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust, practically bouncing you on him, all too hurried.

“I feel like your man yet?” a panted chuckle in your ear, is all you can understand, the wet slap of him at your thighs and the playful pinch of your nipple pulls a yelp from you.

He’s propping your hips up, prodding at something so deep, your knees tighten on him, reflexes overpower you. The tip of him scrapes, scratches at something that loosens your jaw, slack for all of your noises to get past, dripping off your tongue. You’ve no mind for thinking your noises daring or awful, nodding along at his words.

“Yeah, s’what I thought. Goddamn…” he snarls his words. His self assured gaze meets yours, his hands rubbing idly against your skin, no piece of you remains untouched by him.

Though you may not be a string puppet, you do feel a ragdoll, left at his mercy, warm with him pinning you down, damp with his sweat.

“Jesus, darlin’. Drivin’ me mad, so damn pretty’,” he slows, grunting in your ear. A shiver rushes down your whole frame, hips grinding listlessly, searching for more of him. And you find it, utter perfection when you hear him groan, a tight warning begins in your belly.

His shoulders flex, even as he winces past some pain, his fingers are far too rough when they grab at you but all you do is continue, wanting to chase the heat that pushes your thoughts out of your head, you can’t think of anything else but him.

Bright red and flushed with exertion, his hair dark with sweat, all of him is bathed in warmth. “Long as you keep forgettin’...” He bathes you in it too, especially when he pulls you so close. “I’ll be here to remind ya. You’re my woman, always will be. Nothin’ you do is gonna change that,”

His words are close to what you need, just next to it. Good enough to make you nod feverishly, buck against him. Always. That word sticks to you like glue.

He nudges so deep, instinct guides you to press some soft part of yourself against the tip of him over and over. Leaning in, he presses your bodies together, nearly crushing you with his weight. He still pulls your hips into him, but slower.�� A jolted sigh is all that escapes you now, you shut your eyes.

“Look at me,” You push yourself to meet his gaze, even as he floods all of your senses with pleasure. The smell of you together, the feeling of his damp skin on yours. His smallest hairs on his chest and belly brushing against your skin. The sight of him, his squared features, his ruddy cheeks. Fluttering inside is your sentiment for him. You don’t dare label it.

Then he pulls back, only to rub at your button, lulling strokes that speed up, far more jarring than the paced rutting of him inside of you.

“Arthur- Arthur, I—,” you gasp, fingers squeezing tight at his shoulders, digging your nails. You’re enraptured in his gentle coaxing.

“M’right here, sweetheart,” he has the softest tone, his eyes are focused only on you, watching carefully. You let yourself melt in his hands.

His fingers are rough, sending fire coursing through you. You feel yourself gush on him and you spread more, eyes rolling back before you arch your back and barely stop a scream from ripping through you.

“There ya go; good girl…don’t you look sweet,” he coos. Pathetic keening is all you give, hips jerking a bit, though pinned underneath him.

He holds you down underneath him, “that’s real good, honey,” muttered over you. Sounding very proud of himself. He looks down at you. His eyes trace over your features. The hardened pads of his fingers draw lines over your skin. You have to catch your breath, swallow to wet your throat, dry from the way you let it leak all of the noises he loves to hear.

Eventually, you relax your legs from where they had squeezed tight on him. He starts to work you back up to taking him, sensitive and tender. You feel the soft gathering of all that he is against you. The heaviness of him inside of you, filling you to the brim.

Your lower belly twists at the pleasured sounds he makes, pressing his sweat damp forehead into your ear, lazy kisses at your neck, you turn to allow him to continue. With a shaky groan and a hiss, he pulls away. You hold back your whine when he spills everything he has on your thigh. A small prick of disappointment almost takes away from the satisfied groan you revel in.

“Took it all out of me, pretty girl…”

He lets himself be tugged down to lay on you, smothering you. But you like the way his big frame feels piled onto yours. You can feel his heart nearly. Beating close to yours, like he wants them to be close. You play with his hair and you wait. Wait for him to tell you something you’ve been quietly biding your time for. It hasn’t come all week, yet you wait like a passenger does for a train off schedule. At the boarding station with luggage in hand, eyes on the horizon, the long line of tracks.

He murmurs it into your skin. You can feel his beard rub against you, his sweaty chest dampening your skin. “Ain’t nothin’ in this world that I need ‘cept for you,”

It isn’t what you’re looking for. You’re starting to feel like that train won’t come but you make excuses for him again. At least he doesn’t fill your head with empty hopes. Arthur is a man of his word and he only says things he means. You know he means it. You know it.

Arthur holds you now, you lay tiredly on his chest. He kisses your hair. It would be so easy to pretend that he was just that while you lay and touch the scars he has. Reveries like that though are always quickly shattered. Ruined utterly by Arthur and his possessive words, curling up and over. Clouding your imaginings with his own version of devotion. These words are not sweet, nor are they bitter. They’re like cough syrup, numbing and sticky, putting you in a stupor until you forget all about the tight scratchiness in your throat.

“You belong to me,” you can feel his chest vibrate with such comfort in his voice, you have no choice but to fall asleep on him while he strokes your hair.

sighhhh dont even ask me how long i spent on this, or how much i like it (i dont really but will i ever???) thanks for reading!!! I reallly liked how untruthful arthur is about some of the details and how much he hides from poor reader : ( and of course, him being a sap at the end was sooo cute, couldnt resist!! happy valentines day snow angels 💓💓💓💓💓🥹🥹❄️❄️😇😇😇

#❄️ snow angel #red writes #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan #low honor arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 x reader #tw dark content #tw dark fic #tw dubcon #red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption #arthur morgan x female reader #low honor arthur morgan

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steviebbboi · 5 months ago

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Stevie BB 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge!

Howdy lads~ exciting news to share:

I just reached a 200 follower count on Tumblr 🎉🎉🎉

I kinda can't believe it? Writing is indeed good for my soul. Interacting with y'all on here has helped me with my mental and emotional wellness due to just finding such great community on here. Thank you for giving me the space to write and for following along/supporting in my writing journey 💖

With that spiel spoken, I wanted to host a writing challenge in celebration of this milestone! *squealing because i'm so excited to host*

Stevie BB 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge Masterlist

*you'll find all writing submissions and writing requests (answered) at the link above*

You could participate by sending in either:

✨ writing request via my Asks (💙)

and/or

✨ writing submissions (💥).

General Rules:

the challenge will start October 1st until the end of November (flexible on late entries for submissions only💥; let's say till mid-December or so).

I'll read/write for Chris Evans characters, Henry Cavill Characters, and Charlie Hunnam characters [and Bucky Barnes specifically lol] (these are my preferences but if there are other characters that you'd like to bring in, just ask me)!

for writing requests 💙, i will only be accepting requests (2 max/person; pls do not send more than 2 asks!) until the end of November.

for writing submissions 💥, go wild! submit as many as you like!

you can do both (send in a writing request 💙 AND send in a writing submission(s)💥) if you want to; rules still apply for the requests though.

use at least one prompt within your request 💙/submissions💥 from the lists below (but def. go crazy if you wanna use more than one! you don't have to claim any prompts).

works can be inclusive! poc, gender neutral, neurodivergencies, mid size/plus size/curvy readers are encouraged!

No word limits but please use a 'read more' after 200 words

Works can be part of an existing series but must be able to stand on their own

tag me @steviebbboi and use the tags #bbboi200celebration and #steviebbboiwritingchallenge in your entry so i can read/reblog your work! (If I somehow lose sight of your submission, please remind me and I'll take a look at it right away ☺️)

Most important one: Have fun!

How To Play:

✨ You must be 18+ to participate in this challenge!

✨ Choose one (or multiple 😏) BB's:

Chris Evans Characters

Steve Rogers/Captain America

Ransom Drysdale

Ari Levinson

Frank Adler

Curtis Everett

Andy Barber

Hayden/Harvard Hottie

Nick Gant

Jake Jensen

Johnny Storm

Lloyd Hansen

Henry Cavill Characters

Clark Kent

Napoleon Solo

Geralt of Rivia

August Walker

Charlie Hunnam Characters

Jax Teller

Raymond Smith *extra brownie pts if you write about him omg*

King Arthur

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes [he's all by himself im so sorry lmfao 🥹]

✨ Choose one (or more) of the following prompts:

*if you don't want to write smut, you don't have to choose anything from the kinks prompt! feel free to only use the following two prompts :)

soft dom!BB

clothes/naked ratio

size kink

slow and deep 👀

breeding kink (non-pregnancy version)

somnophilia

free use

cockwarming

belly bulge

Squirting

consensual non-con

consensual dub-con

cumeating

creampie

anal/or dp

possessive/or protective manhandling!BB

oral sex

orgasm delay

dumbification

daddy/princess kink

overstimulation

sex pollen

prone bone

cockdrunk

threesome (BB/Reader/BB)

ass/pussy spanking

mild degradation

body worshipping

quickie/don't get caught (public sex, threats of exhibitionism, etc.) 😏

Grouchybb! who is only soft with you

Married and loyal!spouse

A/B/O

lumberjack!bb who is a teddy bear on the inside tho

mob AU

biker AU

soulmate AU

mutual pining/idiots in love

childhood besties to lovers

reformed playboy

professor AU

supernatural/mythical (gods, sirens, werewolves, witches, vampires, ghosts, oh my!)

frenemies to lovers

fwb to lovers

locked in AU/forced proximity

medieval AU

fake dating/relationship

sharing one bed

polar opposites attract

break up and make up

spy AU

meet cute

cowboy AU

gentle recluse!BB

brothers best friend!BB

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Yes, take it, slut"

"It's not that big of a deal."

"God, why do you always do this"

"You're impossible."

"Then I guess we gotta be quiet, huh?"

"We're trapped."

"Shh, you wouldn't want anyone to hear, or do you?"

"You're taking me so well, baby"

"Good girl" *for fem readers; adjust accordingly!*

"Tsk, uh-uh, c'mere, honey"

"You always feel so good around me, baby"

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Here, let me help you."

"Yeah, are you a cockhungry slut, now?"

"I hardly think that that's necessary."

"Don't be a brat, baby."

"Aw, does it feel good right there?"

"I'm sorry!"

"What do you want from me?!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"What do you think you're doing here?"

"Nope. Again."

"Don't worry, I got you."

"Just stay still, there you go."

"Just one more, I promise."

"C'mon, don't you wanna be good?"

"Stay over there!"

"You better hurry up, baby."

"Thaaaat's it, you're doing so well, honey."

"Uhm, I'm not sure that's going to work."

"Please, I'll beg, please!"

"Be honest."

"Be careful there, darlin'."

"Are you okay?"

"Are you sure you wanna go there?"

Scenarios? Any! Go. Wild.

✨ I love reading/writing angst w/HEA, soft dark (nothing too dark though), fluff and SMUT (as you can see w/the many many kinks).

no incest (stepcest is ok if tasteful lol), no infidelity, no watersports, no murder, no gore. if you're unsure if a trope is appropriate, ask me!

if im ever uncomfy with writing something, i will lyk and we can talk more about it to see if we could work with it!

feel free to ask any questions!

i think i got everything!

Have the best time, laddies~ thanks for celebrating with me!

All are welcome to join in the fun! ❣️

Tagging a few mutuals who may be interested but no pressure bbs:

@bigtreefest @mercurial-chuckles @stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork @buckets-and-trees @hotdamnhunnam @laurfilijames

@autumnrose40 @eloquentlytired @misscherry-26 @stellar-solar-flare

@darsynia @navybrat817

#steviebbboi answers #bbboi200celebration #steviebbboiwritingchallenge #200 followers omgggg #writing challenge #chris evans fanfiction #henry cavill fanfiction #charlie hunnam characters #writing prompts #writing community #writing prompt #writeblr #writers challenge #writers stuff #signal boost for writers challenges #signal boost #boost

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harmoniouseclipse · 6 months ago

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Woe fankids be upon ye

Doing a little series where I took some ship requests on my instagram to make them fankids, this one is for me tho (jeanlisa to kick it off whoo 🙌🏻) The lineup so far is Cytham, Kavetham, Lionfish (aka Freminet x Gaming aged up probably idk how old they are canonically), Cynonari, Jealuc, and Beiguang, and feel free to send me some other pairings you wanna see (as long as they are legal pls otherwise I will ignore it 👎)

I'm gonna ramble about some headcanons and lore for them under the cut, continue with caution bc I'm insane

These two are my brainrot rn, don't even joke lad. And I wanna tell yall their name meanings too bc I like them a lot 🥹 Zephra's means "west wind" derived from Greek, and it's the feminine version of Zephyr. Tyrian was a type of purple dye used by the Ancient Phoenicians, huge huge HUGE thanks to my pookie bear @miothefish for helping me out with his name!!! Also he has Lisa's butterfly earring and you can't see bc of the angle but Zephra has the rose that went in her hair holding her ponytail <3

I'm also making a massive family tree for the characters as a go along, and just the jeanlisa tree is taking up half of the canvas bc of the KoF and Sumeru characters since Cyno is their uncle and the rest of the gang are their honorary uncles 😭 I'll be posting that once the series is done/all the requests are finished/I run out of ships and otps I enjoy

Here's an alternative version with some more info on most of the characters I wanted to briefly mention in their relation to them; Tyrian likes calling Eula his aunt too even though she was never really considered one for them so it's kind of like her unofficial title she pretends to dislike but she loves it and dotes on Tyrian 🤭 She and Diluc also helped train Zephra with a claymore and Diluc kind of became a parental figure to her in her teen years after Lisa's passing 🥺 She also feels like she's outshined by Jean and that she's not smart or powerful enough to follow in Lisa's footsteps (something that Lisa wouldn't want anyways bc it led her to her death 😔) rip zephra she's just like me fr

And yeah some Kaeya angst bc he's still going thru it I fear, and Jean is single mombossing but she's worried for zephra which me too dawg, im afraid to say she might be cooked 😦 Zephra is also kind of like a weird mix of Lisa when she was her age and Jean, where overall she's well-mannered and kind but she can be competitive and feel the need to push herself too much and pull a few strings to get what she wants from time to time. Tyrian is a ray of sunshine tho, he has not yet witnessed the horrors 💔 I do think that Jean is also a lot easier on him than her mom was with her so that also helps. He's very shy tho and wants to stick with Zephra or Razor most of the time, and they both have some nasty tan lines from going out with Razor and Klee and Fischl a lot 😔 Cyno also freaking loves them and dotes on them and Tyrian is getting a TCG addiction because of it smh, Cyno is also one of Zephra's favorite people and when she's in Sumeru she stays with him and Alhaitham (bc in my universe they are married ough I love cytham)

And (I think?) Klee physically and mentally ages slower than humans so I think she'd be technically 9 or 10, and Zephra is left with babysitting duty most of the time if she's home on break or smth 😭 Klee really looks up to her tho

Also, I wrote Tyrian's last bullet point like he was super young when Lisa died, but I think he was around 7 so he actually remembers Lisa better than I intended it to sound, he was just younger than Zephra (who was 11 at the time) and just didn't have as much time with her as Zeph did, but his most fond memory of Lisa was reading with her and she probably taught them some potion-making skills too.

I think there will be some abyss angst in here too at some point, since I hc Lisa to be probably an Abyss Lector/Harold (I forget which is which) um so thinking that Zeph and Tyrian experiencing some not normal things happening and Jean doesn't know what to do since Lisa also didn't really know what that dog in her was until it was too late 😔 That's what Kaeya's for tho since he's like the heir of the abyss???? Go off king. Also some touchy ragbros angst bc Kaeya is scared for Zeph knowing how close she is with Luc and he doesn't want him to push her away because of her being from the abyss or smth (they mostly made up but it's still a fear in Kaeya's mind both for him and Jean's kids)

I think that's all I wanted to touch on for now?? Mainly just thinking about domestic fluff and angst all the time now 🥺 Zeph not being able to be open with Jean bc she feels like a disappointment but Jean would literally actually die for her and shes proud of her no matter what ough im going to lose my freak dawg guess who my favorite fankid is it's super hard ik

Send me asks or dms or whatever for more ship requests!!! I'm having so much fun with this dawg 🫶🏻

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ssivinee · 1 year ago

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✧Magnetic✧

Bada Lee x F Reader: You, the popular and cheerful cheer team captain, and Bada, the blunt and somewhat rebellious dance team captain, never crossed paths, but she may have had a crush on you. But someone was standing in Bada's way.

Word Count: 4.1 k

Note: Sorry for being gone for a while guys, finals were hitting hard AND THEN I got sick😭. BUT IM BACK AGAIN, AND THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 700 FOLLOWERS🥹.

Character Vision Board

College life was the epitome of deteriorating mental health, but for some people, it was somewhat enjoyable. It was the years of exploring early adulthood, something that helped people look forward to the long years.

You were one of them.

You stood there with your friends at the side of the hallway, pretty in your cheer uniform with the school colors. Your long dark hair was tied up into a high ponytail, revealing your beauty to the student body. The way you stood there, hand on the curve of your hip, your stance looked powerful and cute at the same time as a laugh escaped your lush lips.

“Bada, you need to stop staring at the girl. You’re gonna burn holes into her,” Tatter tells the older girl, and Bada rolls her eyes. “I can’t help it, she’s just so-“ Bada couldn’t even let out a sentence as her eyes drifted back onto you, letting out a groan. “-so beautiful.”

“Literally, just go talk to her,” Lusher suggests, and Bada scoffs. “I can’t be so random. We live in two different worlds.”

Which was true. You were the captain of your school's cheer team, had good grades, and a well-known sweetheart. Bada, on the other hand, was captain of the dance team, had mediocre grades at best, and seemed to have a slight attitude problem with strangers.

Yet here she was, head over heels for you, only gazing from afar. She didn’t understand what it was about you, though. There was no interaction. The two of you were polar opposites. So what truly was it?

It all started in her first year when Bada was in Biology class, grueling over the topics on the first day. You walked in late, sporting a tight-cropped hoodie and some sweatpants. You spoke to the professor in private, trying to give a proper explanation for your tardiness.

Meanwhile, in Bada’s eyes, you looked adorable with your messy bun and glasses. A picture she couldn’t get out of her head for years. Then she saw you in your uniform for the first time after two weeks. If only you saw how Bada almost kneeled for you in front of her friends. No decorum to be found in sight.

She would’ve gone up to you… only if she didn’t see a man’s arm wrapped around your waist.

Unfortunately, you were dating Choi Hanseoul, the school's most popular jock. You guys were the embodiment of a power couple. Your boyfriend was the captain of the football team, rich, and his face made everyone fall for him. Not Bada, though.

She never knew what you saw in the boy. Feeling as if a hefty amount of fog clouded his true self. It had girls in a trance that Bada couldn’t understand.

She would have cared less, but he has you.

Hanseoul was the biggest obstacle in Bada’s way. It made seeing him an all-out war in her mind. Every. Single. Time.

All she wanted to do was punch the dude hard and run off with you. But she knew how much you cared for him. It was evident in your eyes, and every time Bada saw it, she felt as if she had been stabbed multiple times.

Why couldn’t you just be hers?

That’s been her dilemma for the past three years, and now you two are seniors, yet she still did nothing about her feelings. It was just that difficult for her.

“Is there a game later today?” Minah asks, a bit confused at your choice of attire. “Yeah, later today at six,” Lusher says, checking her phone to make sure she’s correct. “Are we going to that?”

“Of course, we are since Bada unnie is quite literally in love with the girl that cheers for our school,” Tatter responds, cutting off Kyma as she teases the older girl. “Oh please, I’m sure you wanna see Audrey as well,” Tatter shrugs at Bada’s comment, “at least I admit that.”

“Oh, whatever.”

Bada usually didn't care much for the games; her focus was solely on you. When halftime rolled around and the cheer squad made their way to the field, Bada's attention intensified. You stood at the center of the group, ready to perform. As the music started, you danced, pom poms in hand, your face beaming joyfully. These moments were always different for Bada, who usually paid little attention to the sports events. She couldn't help but be captivated by how you moved, your energy infectious, and your happiness evident.

With each jump, twirl, and wave of your pom poms, Bada drew herself further into your presence, making her feel warm inside. The cheers from the crowd faded into the background, and it was as if there were only you and the music, creating a vigorous atmosphere. Even though the routine seemed straightforward, you managed to pack it with a surprising amount of emotion. Your genuine smile never wavered, and it seemed to Bada as if you were dancing for the crowd and the sheer love of the moment.

As the choreography reached its peak, the applause from the audience echoed around the stadium as everyone stood up, guaranteeing the success of the halftime show. Bada, however, remained in her seat, still caught in a trance. The world outside the bleachers ceased to exist for her, leaving only the lingering echoes of the dance and the desire to understand the joy that seemed to feel at that moment.

Bada kept her eyes on you while your attention faded from the crowd as you ran up to Hanseoul. He lifted you by your hips, twirly you around in his arms, and Bada heard the squeals of joy from your lips. You giggled at the warm feeling of Hanseoul’s face on your stomach, balancing yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders.

Every other student ‘awed’ when seeing the two of you…

and Bada just wanted to puke.

Why did it feel like the world wanted her to suffer?

Yet she wasn’t aware of what was happening behind closed doors.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Hanseoul asks you, arms resting on his knees, anger seething face. “I can’t help it when people talk to me, Hanseoul. Besides, it was for our damn History project,” you explain with frustration, gripping your hair. You were annoyed, constantly having to explain yourself.

“Seungjae shouldn’t be talking to you, period, Y/n. He could just text you,” Hanseoul says, poking at your chest lightly several times.

This was how it always was. The constant arguing and the absurd amount of jealousy were unbearable. It was like being locked in a cage, an animal wanting to taste the sensation of freedom.

Almost every night, you cried and hated yourself for it.

You put up this everlasting strong front to be “miss perfect” because it was all you knew. It was exhausting, needing to hide the fact that you were only human like everyone else. So why were you staying with Hanseoul?

Well, you did love him at the start. He was a sweetheart, someone who was willing to put you before themselves. Then, something shifted in the air when you both hit your third year of university. The two of you got busier, becoming vice-captains of your team, having multiple advanced placement classes, and being in different friend groups, which caused a stir within the relationship.

You were noticeably blossoming into even more of a woman, triggering something in Hanseoul’s mind. The man suddenly became possessive, which you thought was cute at first… until it wasn’t. He inserted himself in areas of your life that were supposed to be for your enjoyment only, seemingly becoming rather obsessed with you.

The reason for staying with Hanseoul was to stay afloat within the school. The thought of being a nobody terrifies you, not because of the popularity, but because of being alone. Hanseoul at least kept a certain comfort around, even if it was suffocating.

“I’m tired of talking about this, Han. I need to head to class,” You tell him, picking up your bag as you leave the private study room, clearly over the entire argument. You freshen up in the bathroom, fixing your disheveled hair and reapplying the pink gloss that faded from all the words being yelled at in the past hour. As you stared at yourself in the mirror, you smiled, trying to find something to grasp onto. You didn’t care if it was hope, happiness, or even the thought of your exhausting assignments. You just wanted your mind off of him.

But you fail, the smile fading quickly as a heavy sigh leaves your freshly glossed lips. A wet feeling muddled your eyes as you hung your head low, leaning on the bathroom sink. Seeing the droplets of tears coming down, you take a deep breath and wipe them away. “You’re better than this Y/n. No one can tell you otherwise,” you give yourself a pep talk, dabbing your face with the use of your sleeve, sniffling every bit of sadness that escaped.

You walked out of the bathroom, looking like your usual happy self, as people greeted you warmly. Rushing your pace, you enter the lecture hall to find the room filled, a single empty spot next to an individual with a black hoodie covering their head.

“Miss Kim, you’re late,” your professor states, making eye contact with you. You were about to say a random excuse, but your professor had a glimpse of your slightly red eyes. “You may go take your seat, and you didn’t miss much.”

You bow with a tight-lipped smile and make your way over to the only open seat. As you settle down and pull out your laptop to begin typing away, Bada raises her head from all the shuffling. The tall dancer was about to tell you to shut up so she could nap but froze when she saw you.

Feeling the piercing gaze on you, you turned to your right to see Bada’s pretty face, eyes wide, and mouth slacked open. “I’m sorry. Was I too loud?” Bada could only shake her head, not trusting any sound that could possibly come out of her mouth right now.

You look at the blackboard, then look back at her, “I can take the notes and give them to you after class. If you’d like, at least?” Bada then shyly nods her head as you smile.

You paid attention as usual, and Bada thought she couldn’t do her usual ‘admire from afar,’ afraid of being caught. Yet you were so focused on the notes that you didn’t even seem to notice the slight peaks Bada would take.

She looked at your lips, the ones she wanted to kiss so much. Your nose, the cute shape of it, makes her heart swell. Then, your eyes, the feature that she loved about you dearly.

But she pauses. Your eyes looked agitated, an ounce of redness prevalent. They weren’t the sparkling ones she adored. You were crying.

It had Bada’s heartbreaking in pieces, and she knew it would be weird to ask, but she couldn’t help it. “You okay?” You stiffened at Bada’s mumbling tone, not expecting the sudden question. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re eyes… they’re red.” You pause, not knowing how to respond. “Um, I’m okay. Thanks for worrying, Bada.” The tall girl smiles at your words as you give her your famous smile. Then Bada was hit with a realization…

You knew her name.

Bada keeps her head down as her face heats up. Of course, you knew her name. You somehow knew everyone on this campus, so it shouldn’t be so shocking. But it was to Bada, the same girl who believed she shouldn’t have even existed in the same stratosphere as you.

After classes, Bada had left the room and found you leaning against the wall, phone in hand. When you meet each other’s gaze, you pull up an empty contact profile, “Let’s switch numbers so I can send the notes?” “Oh, um, yeah, sure.”

You give her your phone, and she types away. You were almost starstruck for the quick glimpse at the tall dancer. For the first time in your life, you were close to the famous woman on the campus.

You knew your height difference, but her practically towering over you, even from a foot away, had your heart racing. Her eyes were sleek as she focused on the screen, her pink bottom lip being bit due to concentration. She is gorgeous, you thought, as your heart fluttered for the first time in a year.

You freeze at the feeling, not knowing how to react, as Bada returns the phone. “I’ll send them to you later.” The tall girl just nods.

For the next two weeks, you and Bada messaged back and forth. It was mainly for your notes with pretty handwriting, but there were little conversations here and there.

Every time you send your notes, you leave little messages.

‘Hey Bada! These are the notes from today. Hopefully you have a good night😊.’

‘I heard you had a dance competition today and won first place! Congrats on the win, captain!!! Here are the notes from today's lesson. Have a good night!’

‘BADAAAA! I saw the video of ur performance! YOUR SO COOL! There aren't many notes today, but I’ve been watching the video on repeat… i just wanted to let yk, good night!’

Bada found them endearing, and she felt like you were trying to become her friend, so why not reciprocate the energy? The next day, Bada decided to come up to you while you sat down with Hanseoul in the cafeteria. His arm was placed around your shoulders, and you looked uncomfortable, trying to hide the fact.

“Y/n?” You look up and see Bada’s cold gaze contradicting with a small smile. Seeing the woman made you feel more relaxed in your current position. You weren’t extremely close with each other within the two weeks, but both of you gave each other the calming feeling you needed.

“Oh, Bada, what’s up?”

“I was hoping you could help me with the assignment Mr. Kwon gave us on Monday?” The tall dancer asked with a glimmer of hope but noticed the cold stare Hanseoul was giving you, which you clearly chose to ignore. “Oh, of course. Text me when your classes are over?” “Yeah, I can do that.”

You smile and notice the glares on your right, and you internally scoff, “Bada, Hanseoul, and I still have class, but I’ll see you later, okay?” Bada nodded and watched the two of you walk off, not before Hanseoul looked back over his shoulder with a glare.

“Gosh, I’m sorry I took so long, Bada. Were you waiting for a while?” You asked, panting as you rushed to the cafe where Bada sat, notes and laptop out on the table. “No, no, I wasn’t. I only got here about five minutes ago. I mean, are you okay though?” Bada notices your red face, and one could assume it is because you rushed to get here, but Bada knows that no matter how tired you are, you still look pristine.

You and Hanseoul were arguing AGAIN. This time, it is about you hanging out with Bada. This time, you walked out, not even saying a peep about the situation. You believed Bada was harmless, and I mean, how bad could she be when all she wanted was help on an assignment?

“I’m fine, just a little rushed because of the wind.”

“Let’s get this started then?” You ask, and she nods excitedly, her eyes puppy-like as she looks at you. You giggle as you take out your belongings on the table.

As you began to teach the assignment, Bada's eyes remained fixed on you. She watched your every movement, hanging on to your words with an eagerness that wasn't lost on you. It was a side of Bada you hadn't seen before – a softness and admiration that contrasted with her usual bold demeanor.

After a while, you couldn't help but notice Bada stealing glances at you, her cheeks tinted with a subtle blush. It made you feel a warmth inside, a pleasant surprise to witness this more vulnerable side of her. You continued explaining the assignment, but a small smile played on your lips as you couldn't ignore the adorable sight of Bada trying to conceal her admiration.

As the tutoring session progressed, Bada became more at ease with the assignment and in your presence. Her initial shyness seemed to dissipate, replaced by a newfound comfort. It was as if a bridge had been built between you two, connecting your worlds in a way that transcended the academic subject.

Feeling the positive energy, you suggested, "You're catching on quickly. How bout we take a break and grab something to eat? There's this new tteok shop nearby."

Bada's eyes lit up, and she nodded eagerly, her usual confidence returning as she agreed to the break. As you both stepped out of the cafe and into the crisp air, Bada hesitated momentarily as if contemplating something. Then, with a shy smile, she looked up at you.

"Hey, the dance team’s holding a party for the end of the semester. It's gonna be fun, some drinks and games. Would you, uh, wanna come?" Bada's usual straightforwardness wavered, revealing a side of her that caught you off guard. The contrast from her usual boldness made the invitation even more endearing.

You couldn't help but smile at her, charmed by the unexpected sweetness in her invitation. "Sure, I'd love to go to your party. Just send me the details?"

“You’re not going to that fucking party, Y/n,” you heard Hanseoul’s voice from the phone as you did your hair. You had already changed into a short pink velvet bodycon dress, and your face had a pretty natural makeup look on.

Hanseoul's eyes widened in disbelief as your words hung heavy in the air. The room felt tense, the weight of the impending decision settling in. Your frustration with the argument about the party had peaked, and your voice's weariness underscored the toll the disagreement had taken on you.

Ignoring the brewing storm of emotions, you continued to adjust your hair, focusing solely on your reflection. The gravity of your words seemed to take a moment to register with Hanseoul, who, up until then, had been more concerned about controlling the situation.

"Is that how it's gonna be?" he finally responded, the question tinged with a mix of surprise and frustration.

You took a deep breath, meeting his gaze through your phone's screen. "Hanseoul... let's break up."

The words hung heavy in the silence that settled over the conversation. Hanseoul's face displayed a mix of shock and disbelief as if he hadn't anticipated the conversation taking such a drastic turn. The realization of the gravity of your decision seemed to dawn on him slowly.

"All because of a damn party?" he retorted, his tone a blend of incredulity and frustration. The question hung in the air, demanding an explanation for what seemed like an abrupt and drastic choice.

You sighed, weariness evident in your eyes. "It's not just about the party, Hanseoul. It's about us, the constant arguments, and not being on the same page. Reevaluate our entire relationship, THEN come back to me when you figure out what's wrong."

The weight of the words loitered, the truth behind them almost finalizing the reality of the situation. Your phone screen displayed Hanseoul's stunned expression, frozen in time as your words sank in. The decision to end a relationship was easy, and in that moment, it felt like a necessary step towards finding the peace and freedom you sought.

As the Uber left you at the entrance of the large Airbnb, the pulsating bass of music echoed through the walls, announcing the lively gathering inside. Stepping through the door, you were immediately immersed in a sea of lively young adults, almost all grinding and throwing it back on each other. Intoxicated laughter and the scent of various drinks filled the air, chaoticness evident with the blink of an eye.

Your gaze swept through the crowd, ultimately landing at the back of the room where your eyes locked with Bada's. A warm and genuine grin lit up her face as she navigated through the lively crowd to greet you.

"I'm so glad you could make it," Bada exclaimed, enveloping you in a hug that allowed the sweet scent of your perfume to waft into her senses, prompting a contented sigh. "Let's get you a drink?" Her offer was met with your enthusiastic nod, your bright smile reflecting the excitement that animated Bada's expression.

As the night unfolded, you found relief in the company of those around you, downing the five shots as you sought a sense of comfort. Bada remained silent by your side, her attentive presence never leaving in the midst of the lively crowd.

Observing your somewhat jittery demeanor, Bada leaned in, her voice cutting through the loud music. "Hey, wanna get some fresh air?"

Your response was hesitant but agreeable, and you found yourselves venturing to the backyard together. Settling into the outdoor arrangement, the subtle ambiance of the solar lights provided a short break from the energy inside. Bada, with a discreet cough, broke the silence.

"So, what's going on, Y/n?" she inquired, her eyes reflecting genuine concern. "Something's on your mind."

Caught off guard by her perceptiveness, your eyes widened, followed by a heavy sigh. It seemed you weren't as secretive as you thought. "Um, Hanseoul and I—"

"We broke up…"

The words hung in the air, and Bada, despite wanting to be empathetic with you, couldn't help but feel a surge of joy at the news. It wasn't that she took pleasure in your pain, but the idea of being there for you in a time of vulnerability sparked a glimmer of hope in her eyes. As you opened up about the recent breakup, Bada couldn't deny the swirling emotions within her, realizing that this unexpected turn of events might have worked in her favor.

In the hushed serenity of the backyard, Bada's eyes softened as she looked at you. Her gaze showed genuine warmth as she spoke, "I'm sorry to hear that, Y/n. I'm here for you if you ever need someone to talk to or just hang out with."

Your gratitude was evident as you met her eyes, appreciating the sincerity of her offer. But you couldn’t be happier where you were right now. A party, something you haven’t experienced by yourself in years, made you… happy. The past few weeks, Bada proved to be something as relaxing as a home, a source of comfort and understanding as you navigate the rough patches of your now-old relationship.

"I was thinking... Maybe we can go to the amusement park next week? Just the two of us?" The uncharacteristic shyness in her voice only added to the charm of the moment.

Surprised but genuinely touched, you couldn't help but smile. "I'd love that, Bada."

The air was filled with silence, and as your eyes met Bada's, a warmth exuded from the connection between you two. The party continued around you, but everything seemed to fade into the background at that moment.

As the night unfolded and the stars took their place in the sky, Bada hesitated momentarily. The music played softly, creating a backdrop for what felt like a turning point. In a soft voice, almost drowned by the rhythmic beats, Bada confessed, "Y/n, I... I really like you."

The words hung in the air, and the vulnerability in Bada's admission mirrored the uncharted territory you both found yourselves in. The realization that this wasn't just a friendship but something more settled in and your heart echoed the sentiment.

A tender smile played on your lips, and with a sincerity that matched the atmosphere of the evening, you replied, "Bada… I think I like you too."

Your words left the two of you smiling, and Bada couldn’t bear facing you as she felt her cheeks growing red fast. Your fingers steadily make their way to her hands that lay flat on the bench, and without her noticing, you take her warm hands into yours. The feeling had Bada look up in shock, and you giggle at the reaction. Bada’s flustered state always seemingly amused you. Just never used to the out-of-character responses.

“I can get used to this,” you say, smiling as you stare into the starry skies. “Yeah,” Bada responds, staring at your pretty face, “I definitely can too.”

Tag list (OPEN): @bada-lee-ily @froufrousnowman @amararosesblog @tikitsune @nimixe @lorenztired @sammybeefangirls @cephox @1luvkarina @pinksults @princhii

#ssivinee #street woman fighter 2 #bada lee #swf2 #gxg #wlw #bada lee x reader #street woman fighter x reader #bebe #swf 2 #swf 2 x reader #swf2 x reader #bada lee x y/n #bada x reader

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newtkive · 1 year ago

Text

pixels [newt x reader - modern text au]

ch. 4 - agoraphobia and burger king on 5th street

summary: a personal experience provides a way for newt to connect to y/n.

warnings: strong language, mental health talk, depression, medication (its my literal prescription i mention oops this is like a self insert fr), mutual pining, none really.

➥ m.list

THE GLADE

[ 10:52 am ]

y/n: it’s official yall

drugs saved my life

tommy: huh??

minho: same

newt: wow, i’ve never seen your name on my screen before 12 pm

y/n: shut the hell up bitch

newt: ouch, touchy

minho: woah

touchy 👀

are yallll..?

y/n: you’re sick

tommy: are we going to ignore the drugs statement??

like hello are u ok ??

newt: you’re annoying minho

minho: yea <3 😊

notice how they didn’t say no

y/n: you guys just don’t understand how a girl like me needs beauty sleep..

and no we aren’t

gally: all that beauty sleep and ur still walking around with that mug.. yikes.

y/n: 😑

i hate you i haete you i dhateoyifu

minho: great she’s having a fit

y/n: no one cares about me

and you think i’m ugly

this is so sick

and you don’t even care that i’m on drugs

☹️😭😭😭😭 done.

newt: no one said that love

gally that was rude

minho: BRUHHHHH

here she goes

tommy: I CAREE????????

DO I NEED TO COMEGET YOU????

y/n: yes 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

before i do something crazy 😭😭💣

minho: THE BOMB IS WILD

tommy: stay where you are

i have your location

newt: uhhh

y/n: pause what

minho: tommy why would you admit to that

tommy: im On my way! what’s the issue

sorry autocorrect

y/n: WHY DO YOU HAVE MY LOCATION????

gally: can you guys shut the fuck up

minho: the drama queen is here 😍

gally: stop

alby: I have it on Life360, I imagine Thomas does as well. In fact I have all of your locations.

y/n: oh

i forgot about that app..

minho: i didn’t. i get a notif that newt’s phone is at 5% all the goddamn time

even tho he said he deleted it

newt: just turn it off then

i redownloaded it don't track my app intake

minho: no it makes me feel less lonely

y/n: awwwww

idk how you do that newt

newt: do what?

y/n: not charge your phone

if my phone gets below like 15% then the monsters will get me

tommy: omg me tooo 🥹

newt: i was about to say you sound like tommy.

tommy: don’t say that!

she’s on drugs i don’t want to sound like an addict 😔

newt: she isn’t on drugs thomas

tommy: she literally said she is newt :/

5 mins and i’m there y/n

y/n: are you actually fr

thomas..

we live very far away sweetie

newt: i mean

if you were in trouble you don’t think we’d come get you?

tommy: ^^

but life360 says you’re at the burger king on 5th

minho: no that’s me LOOOL

y/n: NEWTTT ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

tommy: wtf

i’m the one who’s coming to get u

why does he get the credit

minho: no tommy you’re coming to get me

tommy: oh yippee i get to see my friend 🤗

newt: ewwwwww

y/n: EWWWWW

tommy: OH STOP IT

y/n: why burger king of all places min

minho: why drugs of all things y/n

gally: she’s not doing drugs are you guys fuckin insane

y/n: yes i am

it’s 10 mg of fluoxetine 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

ONCE A DAY!!!!!!

IM ADDICTED

newt: no you aren’t, 10 mg is the smallest dose

minho: told y’all she was on drugs

y/n: ???????

minho: over the year

you’re too hyper to not be on some crack shit

tommy: oh stop that’s not nice.

newt: it’s not drugs like that minho stop.

tommy: uhoh he brought out the . at the end

y/n: it’s just for anxiety cuz i can’t leave the house without going into a breakdown

minho: she got acrophobia

told y’all she was mental

newt: what the fuck are you talking about

tommy: oh i know that word

fear of spiders 🕷️

minho: wtf no

fear of outside

y/n: i’m not afraid of outside

newt: that’s agoraphobia you fucking dumbass

y/n: 😍

i did NOT mean to send that lol oops

newt: ??

oh, okay

minho: when he’s a know it all 😍

when she’s agoraphobic 😍

y/n: when he’s at burger king on 5th because he has no food in his fridge and can only afford a $1.99 whopper with the coupons from the newspaper 😍😍😍😍

minho: 😒😑

newt: LMFAOOOO

GOOD THAT

minho: british people be so annoying

saying shit like gormless minger and good that be sooo real rn

newt: i have never said gormless minger in my whole 26 years of life.

y/n: you just did bro

newt: call me bro again

y/n: bro

brosive

brother

stepbro

minho: laughed until i saw the last msg :/

newt: 😑

y/n: ok youre the perverts

minho: cant you take your prozac and turn back to normal now

y/n: so you DO know what it is..

gally: wym 'back to normal' like there was smth before this??

y/n: real i been like this for life

tommy: i got whopper and two large fries and mozzarella sticks

newt: wow

y/n: wow just call him a fatass newt.

newt: i would never, stop

y/n: 2 large fries is kinda crazy tho

tommy: i have to get enough to share with my friend

minho

gally: surprised you have friends

tommy: yeah you are not one.

gally: RUDE?

y/n: WELL LMFAO

minho: i literally already ate also gally ur not my friend either

newt: same

alby: same

gally: well why tf am i in here

y/n: well you're my friend!

gally: great.

y/n: not with that attitude..

tommy: y/n you're ok though right??

y/n: yes tommy im fine sweetie

go eat your food

tommy: okay i wish you could share these fries with me

y/n: me too :(

minho: i don't

big back would eat em all

y/n: i actually hate you

newt

[ 11:45 am ]

newt: hey

y/n: hiii :D whats up??

newt: idk why but this feels like secretly texting you across the room at a party

y/n: actually tho

picture me giving u a look from across the room

newt: you would blow our cover immediately

i just wanted to let you know if you needed any like,, advice or something with your new medicine i'm here for you. i take the same stuff on top of lexapro

y/n: oh really?

newt: yeah i do

y/n: newt :( thank you

i am a bit nervous to start it tbh

newt: i understand, i was too

but hopefully it'll change things for the better

y/n: i hope so

i didn't realize you dealt with anxiety n stuff

newt: more than you know

you aren't the only one and you aren't alone w it

y/n: you're sweet newt, thank you

newt: don't mention it :))

sorry the smiley was creepy

y/n: lmao no i like it

if you need to talk or anything too i’m always here

newt: yeah?

y/n: of course ): you’re my pookie

newt: one day you gotta let go of that word lmao

y/n: but you love it tho

newt: you tell yourself that

actually are you free rn?

y/n: yeah! i’m just about home what’s up?

newt: i’m bored so pick up the phone

y/n: NEWT LMAO

ok fine 😒

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lalunanymph · 17 days ago

Text

gonna get a little sentimental here cause im slightly drunk from guzzling a whole bottle of soju but somedays i still cant believe caleb is back.

i remember watching him in chapter 4 and instantly falling in love with him. when the explosion happened it left me feeling so empty inside and i tried to fill it with my hyperfixation on zayne and then later sylus. idk what happened but by some twist of fate, i met other caleb girlies and we began to message each other everyday on our silly headcanons and character analysis. we missed him so much. then stole my heart (and my panties) & snap and break was written and i posted it to little to no traction cause the majority of the fandom either hated caleb or didn’t see him as a li.

i remember seeing his teaser poster when i was back in my hometown and the sheer ecstasy i felt when we finally received an INDICATION that he was alive. it felt like a breath of relief. it felt like homecoming.

the first time the trailer dropped, i remember being on the phone with the other pipsqueaks and we were just caps locking in the spoilers channel, screaming about caleb’s return. fast forward to now and it’s been 20 days with him. 20 days with a character that’s been poked, prodded and theorized about to no end, and do you know how satisfying it is to have almost all your headcanons about a character you waited for come true?

we peeped his possessiveness. his mental illness. his crazy side. his protectiveness. his suspicions with grandma and his ties to ever. we even got his workout type right 🥹

and not a day goes by that im not grateful to have shared him with a select group of people from the very start. so if you’re reading my works and it stirs something in you, just know it was a year in the making and finally–finally–our sweet sunshine puppy boy is back home with us.

#lnds caleb #love and deepspace caleb #dawn.txt

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bbunivxrse · 1 year ago

Note

AHHH I LOVED UR "HATED HIM" GOJO FIC ITS SO CUTEE🥹 I WANNA SEE A PART 2!! im curious will the reader date gojo or js continue to hate him lmao

❥ IMPROVEMENTS - SATORU GOJO

pairing: gojo x f!reader contents: pt 2 to this fic although you dont need to read it to understand this one. no warnings js fluff here !!! word count: 2.5k on the DOT a/n: HII NONNIE IM SSOOO HAPPY U LIKED IT!!! im sorry this took so long ive been busy with work and exams coming up :( hopefully i can post more often soon :((( ANYWAZ ENJOY

so maybe you don’t hate Satoru Gojo. not anymore. since that moment you shared with him, you thought everything would go back to normal, and for the most part it did. well, you think it did, but everyone else saw the changes clear as day.

as time passed, from an outside perspective it seemed like the two of you suddenly had a… “stable” friendship. both “stable” and “friendship” being used very very loosely. although gojo prefered “happy relationship” and “loving marriage”. the yelling matches (you yelling at gojo while he just sits there and smiles like an idiot) that used to occur multiple times daily went down to only once a day, if at all. you didn’t seem to shoo him away as much or rant about how annoying he is. it was almost like you were warming up to him.

if nobody knew what had happened between the two of you it would’ve seemed like a random switch that went off one day, except everyone did know what happened, cuz gojo’s big mouth went and told everyone the next fucking day. to escape being made fun of to no end, you told everyone you only kissed him so he’d shut up and there was no feelings beyond that, which was half true. the other half of you knew that being all bandaged up by him after a mission gone wrong, sitting in his bed while he tells you how much he cares about you, a man who’d usually piss you off and act all goofy. to see him like that was like a breath of really fresh air and kinda changed the way you saw him.

obviously he was still super annoying and pissed you off, but he seemed to finally get the memo and tuned it down so that it was actually manageable. his laugh was suddenly cuter, his face was less punchable and his flirting was almost starting to fluster you. almost. he still made those stupid comments and monologues for waaayy too long but he got a lot sweeter in his teasing and actions. he somehow found out what your favourite foods and places to eat were and bought you food after long days of school, training sessions and missions and took you to places around tokyo on outings “dates”. your friendship with him was finally tolerable.

waking up on a sunday morning, you hear the sound of buzzing from your phone on your bedside table.

incoming call from gojo.

its way too early for him to be bothering you already, but you know very well that if you don’t pick up now he’ll keep calling til you do. you silently curse shoko for giving him your number when he asked her, since he already knew you’d say no to him. “what do you want?” you answer his call, putting the phone to your ear as you sit up in bed. “good morning to you too i guess..” you can hear the pouting in his voice. “what are you up to today??”

“i’m training a bit with nanami and haibara later.” you check the clock on the table, mentally starting to plan when you’re gonna start getting ready to meet the two of them. “nanami!? why would you train with him!? he doesn’t know anything.” he seemed to completely tune out the second name you mentioned

“he knows more than you.” you laugh at his dramatic gasp over the phone, picturing the look on his face. “whateverrrr. you should train with me instead!”

“no.”

“what!? why not?? im soooo much better than him!” you can hear the passion in his voice and you begin to wonder how he can have so much energy so early in the morning, especially on a sunday. “please humble yourself, and i already told nanami i’d train with them anyway.” you glance back at your clock, continuing to consider how long you can stay in bed for. “fiiineee. we can train together next time. what’re you doing after that?”

“after training i’m gonna…” your voice trails off as you think back to earlier this week, trying to recall if you had made any other plans with anyone for today. “not doing anything later. i’m probably gonna go back to my dorm.” you confessed, forgetting exactly who you were on the phone with. “oh so you’re free later? perfect! we sh-“

“no, i’m not free. i’m going back to my dorm gojo. and i’m staying there. all day.” you make sure to give him the details of your plan to stay in your room so he doesn’t have any wiggle room to plan anything. “hmmmm.. okay! ill just come over then!”

“what?? n-“

“cyalaterbye!!” you hear the phone beep as he hangs up, now looking down at your lock screen. 'god he’s sooo annoying.'

getting out of bed after looking down at your clock again, you decide you have more than enough time to watch a bit of the show you’ve been catching up on. maybe about two and a half episodes?

checking the time halfway through the first episode, you decide you’re not in the mood to continue watching and you’ll watch a movie instead after training. you get up and begin getting ready for the scheduled training session you had, lightly fixing up your hair so you looked presentable and throwing on your uniform before heading out.

training with nanami and haibara went well, and you were all surprised gojo didn’t show up to bother you but you figured he was busy with his own thing. coming home you immediately threw your uniform onto the floor and went to take a shower, feeling all gross and sweaty. ‘ill pick it up later.’

you turn the water on, allowing it to get hot before stepping into the shower. you decided to use your favourite body wash that smelled like heaven in a bottle, the scent filling up the entire bathroom and making all the air around you smell like your favourite fragrance. you linger in the shower for a bit, the hot water feeling therapeutic against your skin. once you were done you headed back to your room, throwing on some comfy flared sweats and a random tank top from your wardrobe. looking in the mirror, the outfit was surprisingly cute, and really comfortable.

in a good mood from the nice shower and already feeling pretty after only putting on some random clothes, you decided to have fun and do some light makeup. maybe you’ll run a few errands later? you were a bit low on snacks at the moment.

finishing off your makeup with a pretty lipgloss, you look in your little snack drawer to see what you had left. some gum, a few candies and one bag of your favourite chips you’re planning to save. maybe it was time to restock.

you throw on a light jacket and grab your bag, gathering your essentials and getting your shoes on before leaving your dorm. you decided to go to the little convenience store only a few minutes away since they had all the snacks you like.

within a few minutes you made it to the store, picking out a bunch of snacks and candies you liked. as you were looking at the new flavours of candy they had, the bell by the door jingled as someone entered the store. “y/n!!” you heard a familiar voice behind you. “why are you here?? you said you were staying in your dorm. all day.” gojo mocks the tone you used with him on the phone earlier. “i changed my mind. why are you here?”

“satoru wanted to get some candy on the way home.” suguru appears from behind him, giving you a smile and a polite wave. “hmm.. they have a nice selection here, what do you think i should get?” gojo puts a hand to his chin as he looks through all the candies. “the sour green apple candy from this brand is really good. and the lemon flavour too, they’re my favourites.” you say as you point to the candies. “then they’re my favourites too,” gojo immediately picks up two of each flavour you recommended, before picking a few other candies he knows you like.

“you do not need all that sweetness. think about your health.” suguru grimaces at the amount of sweets in gojos hands. “i’m not gonna eat all of it! do you really think that low of me? i’m sharing with my girlfriend.” he plops his purchase on the counter for the cashier, smiling down at you “and i’m still coming over,”

“i didnt agree to that, nor do you have girlfriend.”

“don’t care,” gojo shrugs as he takes his bag full of your favourite candies, cheerfully skipping out the door followed by you and suguru. the two of you followed as he happily pranced down the street and back to school.

“you’re really not gonna leave me alone?”

“nope!” you and gojo stand outside your dorm as he waits for you to unlock the door. you sign at his persistence, grabbing your keys from your bag and opening the door. he had never actually been in your dorm before so this was like a new world to him. “kinda messy in here. you needa clean up a bit y/n” gojo steps inside as if it were his own house, yet looks around at your space as if he were at a museum. “do you ever shut up? and take your shoes off. don’t step on my nice carpet. if it gets dirty i will kill you.”

“yes ma’am.” he obeyed as if his life was truly in danger. you take off your own shoes, putting your jacket and bag away before plopping yourself on your bed. you watch gojo pace around your small dorm room, picking up random objects to inspect before humming and placing it back down. you know he should be monitored carefully while in proximity of your stuff but you really can’t be bothered to babysit right now and just allow him to stimulate himself.

after a few minutes of replying to missed texts from a few of your friends, you hear gojo sigh, dropping the bag of candy on the floor and placing his glasses alongside the makeup you put on earlier. you realize he hadn’t said a word for those few minutes. “you’re being too silent, what are yo-“ gojo fully drops himself on top of you, his hard head hitting your chest so hard you swear you heard a rib crack. “holy fucking shit you fatass, get off me!! you’re heavy.” you try to push him off you but he doesn’t budge. “but ‘m tired baby,” he whines as he made himself more comfortable on top of you. “i will kill you.”

“m‘kay..” gojo yawns, wrapping his arms around you. now you’re stuck, great. you honestly didn’t think the word ‘tired’ existed in gojo’s vocabulary since he somehow always has energy. you had never seen him sleep before, which sounds somewhat normal until you remember the overnight trips and missions you and your classmates went on frequently, where gojo never slept. or he never let anyone see him sleep. you didn’t really realize it until now, with him on your chest already seeming close to knocking out.

as much as it annoyed you that you couldn’t get up to eat the candy he’d bought for the two of you to have, you figured if you woke him up he’d just bother the shit out of you until you let him sleep again, and you honestly realize how cute he is when he’s quiet. sighing in defeat, you open up your laptop that you had left on your bed earlier and throw on a movie you had already wanted to watch today. “hm..? what’s that?” gojo mumbles as he’s half asleep. “the movie suguru recommended me the other day. the one about the samurai?”

“ohhh.” gojo turns his head away from the screen to rest on the other side of his head “that one sucks. and the main character dies.”

“ugh, spoiler warning next time??” you flick the top of his head as he laughs. you scroll through the selection of movies on the site, humming occasionally while adding interesting movies to your watch later list. eventually you find a random movie that you had never heard of but it looks interesting enough and decide to watch it. the large boy laying on top of you turns his head back to the screen once he hears the new film playing. this time he doesn’t say anything, but you notice his eyes struggling to stay open as he yawns literally every waking minute.

“gojo why don’t you go back to your dorm to sleep? you can barely keep your eyes open,” you giggle at him as he tries to look offended but clearly doesn’t have to energy to. “mn-mm. ‘m watchin… with my wife.” he yawns mid sentence. “well i’m not your wife, soooo…”

“you are my wife… we’re married… you remember.” you know he normally only says stuff like that to get under your skin, but sometimes it sounds like he truly believes it, which is a bit scary. you can’t even pay attention to the movie with how hard you’re contemplating to get him off you and in his own bed, but it seems there’s truly no solution. he’s a freakishly tall and muscular man with 100% of his body weight on top of you, so you obviously can’t push him off. and he clearly wont willingly get up, and you know you can’t convince him to get up, so you begin to accept that you might actually be stuck here.

“ill let you stay if you grab the bag of candy for me,” gojo seems to be too tired to remember that there’s nothing you can do to force him to leave and he easily could’ve refused. he lazily throws the bag onto the bed beside you before plopping himself right back where he was before. “now lemme stay.” you roll your eyes instinctively, grabbing the bag and picking out one of the candies gojo had picked for you. he lets out one last yawn before allowing his tiredness to consume him.

as you open up the sweets and start eating, you look down at gojo. you never really took a moment to actually realize how pretty he really is, and especially how cute he looks while he sleeps. as creepy as that sounds. you think it’s because his mouth is finally shut and he’s not saying the most annoying sentences he can come up with, or constantly blabbering to you about stuff you never asked him about and have no interest in. you honestly didn’t mind this heavy man peacefully asleep on top of you as you eat candy and watch a movie. it was quite nice, actually. maybe you’ll start to allow gojo to do things like this more often.

i really had no idea how to end this :SOB: but it turned out well i hope. pls send requests btw i have ZERO idea what to write neext

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo satoru

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catmoe · 5 days ago

Text

super silly terrible trio headcanons for @pjtrashofficial might update and add more in the future!

i am helping to keep the pj fandom alive

Romeo:

-invented a kareoke and dance rhythm machine one day out of pure boredom and night ninja and luna tried to steal them on multiple occasions

-lives in the flying factory

- has pulled more all nighters than he count

- had an orange juice addiction

- handwriting is a mix of cursive and regular font yet still surprsingly readable

- VERY COLD HANDS not as cold as lunas but STILL COLD

- had robot brainrot, refers to sleeping as 'sleep mode' or 'restarting' and passing out as 'short circuiting'

- has a collection of teddy bears but professor snuggles will always be his favorite one

- LOVES organizing things but somehow never has the motivation or willpower to clean his room, like the entire flying factory being clean except for his room

- he has a blahaj that he put glasses on. i have a feeling

- has numerous injuries of all kinds from inventing and fighting, like burns, bruises, cuts and scars

- surprisingly not physically adept and kinda fragile at times like im thinking he could trip on a rock from running from the pjs and break his leg 😭

- doesnt understand why taking over the world or the inventions he makes are bad at all he thinks the reason why everyone hates him for it is because they dont understand how it works and are jealous of him for it or think hes not capable of ruling the world like i dont think he understands whats bad about being a dictator 😭🙏

- enjoys sweet food, especially chocolate and strawberry flavored food

- found a lab coat on the side of the street and claimed it as his however it was far too oversized so be stitched it as best as he can to make it fit him but the stitching is lop sided because he isn't that good at stitching but he tried 🙏

- saw other people having earrings and though it was cool so he invented something to pierce his ears but he underestimated the calculation and preparation neccessay and how much it hurt and he pierced it too high so he had a migraine and his ears kept ringing for a week straight because of it

- actually the shortest out of the main 6 im pretty sure this is canon but im putting it here because why not

- has hacked into government servers multiple times

- actually pretty good at video games

- might actually enjoy minecraft

- him and greg bond over shared experiences like difficulty with poems and presenting it to the class, not being taken seriously, being taken for granted, being recognized only for their skills and other stuff that they share in common that i cant think of right now

- sees how night ninja and luna bond over art and painting so he tried it himself and isnt the best at it, but hey, atleast he bond with them about it right? 🥹

- is a walking calculator, mental math final boss

- can yap FOR LITERAL HOURS about his special interests i kid you not. (get it, hes a kid? pun not intended btw)

- special interests are computer, science and math, anything plush or cuddly related and space

- social awkwardness final boss like surprisingly greg is better at socallizing than him thats how bad he is at interacting with people

- happily looks forward for villain alliances if it means that he wont be alone for a night

- annoyed fairly easy

- gets silly when hes comfortable around someone (very rare occurance if that someone isnt robot)

- autism creature

- can play the piano

- does the erm actually pose on a daily basis

- sleep deprived

- cannot see without his goggles even if his life depends on it

- talks to himself out loud and narrates the things hes doing (like what catboy does)

- has the biggest, brightest and liveliest smile ever

Night Ninja

-warmest hands ever

-LOVES manga or comics in general

- a very good artist

- plays board games with his ninjalinos when they are not training or fighting

- knows first aid so that he can patch up himself and his ninjalinos after a fight or intense training

- is actually kinda terrified of what anyus flute is capable of

- can do a perfect split with no warmups whatsoever and feel no pain from it

- the ninjalinos are strong enough to carry him around if they group up and its actually pretty funny

- whenever he wanders off in the middle of the night he always makes sure his ninjalinos are asleep. some are, some pretend to sleep then mess around

- sometimes breaks into the flying factory when hes bored to see what romeo is doing mostly because he can't break into the moon to see luna to sneak around her most of the time so he pesters romeo twice as much eheh

- king of video games especially anything action themed

- had punched a hole in a wall out of pure frustration multiple times

- has scared his ninjalinos on accident multiple times and feels guilty for it

- does little shows and tricks every now and then to make the ninjalinos smile when they feel down or for their birthdays

- can play the flute

Luna Girl

- punches people when shes missing her luna gadgets (Night Ninja taught her)

- Her and Motsuki wrestle sometimes when they are bored

- Motsuki is a flying flashlight and Luna is used to it already

- coldest hands to ever exist

- whenever night ninja ventures off in the middle of the night, sometimes she sneaks on the ninjalinos and plays games with them like tag and they enjoy her company

- likes dress up

- an aspiring artist like that one scene from Romeos disguise i think where shes painting outside the museum

- gets bored sometimes on the moon so she visits earth in hopes of something fun to do

- her and romeo sometimes bond over their interest in space

- loves learning new skills

- loves halloween because she gets to see creative costumes and scare people for candy every year

- loves having her moths carry her around like a parade float

- [ ] loves teasing the wolfies about the moon

- [ ] loves teaming up with night ninja to tease romeo

#pj masks #pj masks romeo #pj masks night ninja #pj masks luna girl

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thelov3lybookworm · 6 months ago

Text

Remember me? (Part 18)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Summary: Idiot in love

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1849

A/n: ehehe i am so happy to be writing this again. i know it took me like, months to get to this but i lovedd writing this one soo much and i am so happy to share this one with you all my bbgs 😭🥹

also im soo sorry i made you all wait for this🥲 please accept this peace offering 🥰

enjoy!

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Y/n had returned to her and Fin's chambers. She found Nyx and Fin sitting in his room, running and jumping on his bed. Feyre was resting on the couch in the living area couch, wrapped in a threadbare blanket and staring at the kids through the open door.

Y/n said nothing as she settled next to Feyre, letting out a sigh.

Y/n knew Eris would be here anytime with the inner circle and Tamlin.

Feyre an Eris had decided to interrogate him for where and how he found Nyx.

A knock came on the door, and a moment later Eris entered, four others in tow.

For a moment, they said nothing, staring at Feyre, who did not bother to acknowledge their presence. Y/n glanced at Eris, concerned.

Eris simply shrugged and settled down next to Y/n, his arm resting across the backrest, his fingers brushing the nape of her neck.

Tamlin let himself sit on one of the other couches that filled the space, and a few moments later, the Illyrians followed. Morrigan was the last one to sit, still staring at Feyre.

Y/n tried to take deep breath to fill her lungs, but it felt hard considering the tension in the air was thick.

"So..." The warrior with the red siphons, Cassian, spoke, and Y/n could tell he was trying to ease the tension.

"Where did you find Nyx?"

Those were the first word that came out of Eris's mouth, directed towards Tamlin.

"I was on my way to the palace when I felt something. It was dark, like something that was not supposed to be in the forest." Tamling glanced around once before settling his gaze back on Eris, leaning back to get comfortable before he spoke next. "I decided to take a look. There, I found an... opening, almost. It was dark, like a void. And the boy was walking towards it, but he did not seem in control of himself."

"It was Rhys." Feyre mumbled, making everyone's head snap towards her.

"What?" Azriel and Y/n asked simultaneously.

"I looked into Nyx's mind. Rhys had been trying to control him and bring him to the Night court through the opening he created, thinking no one would notice in the chaos of the night."

Silence reigned before Eris and Cassian cursed.

"Those openings have been appearing everywhere from what I know. Just a few days ago I saw a couple in spring."

"Why would he do that though? And why did you leave, Feyre?" Morrigan asked, her tone accusatory.

"Mor." Cassian warned. Mor huffed, folding her arms across her chest.

Y/n felt a tap against her mental shields, and she glanced at Feyre, who still stared at the kids. That told Y/n what she needed to know.

"Fifty years ago-" Y/n began with a deep sigh, commanding everyone's attention. "-Under the mountain, was when I first met Rhys."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

The atmosphere was extra gloomy as Y/n stared out the window of her bedchambers. Even the trees seemed to droop in sadness, the wind too still, glaring in hate.

She sat by herself, the comforter whispering under her wandering palms as she tried to hold onto the soft materials. She could not stop thinking about the incident that happened a few hours ago, how scared and worried everyone was. Just thinking about Feyre’s grief stricken face brought tears to Y/n’s own eyes.

A knock drew her from her depressing thoughts, and the fire in the hearth crackled as the door cracked open a moment later.

The grim face of the high lord peeked in, eyes flitting from object to object until they landed on Y/n, who did not even glance at him.

He closed the door behind him, walking towards her and just staring at her, pausing only when she gave no reaction to his close proximity.

She spared one glance at his face, then patted the plush mattress beside her. He sat down, his sigh echoing in her ears as the comforting scent of his cinnamon and wood scent enveloped her. He sat close enough that the heat from his body warded off the chill and warmed Y/n up within moments, or maybe it was his fire magic.

Whatever it was, Y/n leaned closer to him, grateful for the reprieve from the chill that the fire crackling in the hearth did nothing to chase.

Y/n was perfectly content to sit next to Eris in silence the whole night, but it seemed like he had other plans when he shifted, turning his body to face her.

"Y/n?"

She blinked, then turned her head. "Hmm?"

He seemed nervous about something, light sweat glistening on his neck, partially covered by his shirt. She then realised he had discarded his heavy jacket somewhere, and now he just sat in front of her in a simple white shirt.

"I know this is probably not the best time to talk about this, but… it’s important."

Y/n lifted a brow, remaining silent, knowing he would continue talking.

"The advisors and courtiers, they’ve been pestering me to find a bride."

Confused, she stared at him, wondering how she was concerned in that matter. And then her heart stopped.

He was going to get married.

Y/n looked away, nodding.

"And? Why are you telling me this?"

On the inside, her heart was struggling to stay put, cracks beginning to form in the already withered organ.

He groaned. "Why do you think Y/n?"

She glared at him for a moment before getting to her feet. "The only reason I can think of is you want me to find you a bride. Is that what it is? Sure, I’ll find you one-"

Moments merged together in the next instance, and everything started to low down. Or maybe she was too drunk to realise how fast things were going.

A hand clamped down on her elbow, long, slender fingers digging into the skin and bone, heat rising slowly as he caged her body against the nearest wall so she faced him. His smell overpowered all of Y/n’s senses, the skirts of the ball gown she had worn to the revel a few hours ago swishing softly against the ground. Eyes widening, Y/n met his burning gaze.

Even though he was no longer touching her, she knew his skin would be hot to the touch.

It was a thing she quickly found out once she moved to autumn court. Everytime Eris was frustrated or mad, his whole body burned like a furnace.

"Eris-"

"Why do you not understand Y/n?" He snapped. "Why do you not understand that I don’t want you to find me a bride? When will you understand that I want you to be my bride?"

His chest heaved against hers as he stepped closer, his eyes pleading, yet burning with a passion she had only seen the glimpses of before.

Y/n was dumbfounded. She did not know what to say. She did not know whether to ask him to repeat or laugh in joy.

But the words that slipped out of her mouth were neither. They were entirely damning.

"You never gave me any indication-"

"Didn’t I, my sweet nemesis?" His words were followed by a deep sigh as he stepped away, the sound of the air exhaling reverberating in Y/n’s very bones. "Did I not do my very best to make you happy? Did I not- hell, our dance tonight should have been enough for you to understand my intention. And even if that wasn’t enough, did I not say I would have married you right then and there if you just said the word?"

Y/n shrinked under his gaze as he turned away, running a hand through his hair. He cursed under his breath, then mumbled a low sorry.

"Eris-"

"It’s alright if you don’t want me, Y/n, but I thought… I… I thought that you must have liked me back-"

"Eris listen to me-"

"Maybe I’m not as good at reading people as I thought I was-"

Frustrated, Y/n followed him to her bed, then grabbed the back of his shirt just as he was about to sit. He whipped around, his eyes going a fraction wide at the look on her face.

"Shut up and listen for once, my lord." a shove accompanied her words, and Eris bounced onto the bed, his lips sealed in fright.

Honestly, I could get used to this.

Her lungs expanded, then she released a breath. "I… I’ll need some time, Eris. I can’t take such a big decision myself. Fin-"

"Has no problem with me marrying you." Eris mumbled, breathless as he stared at her.

Y/n blinked. "You- what?"

He nodded, getting back to his feet, grinning. "I already talked to Fin, and he was quite happy about it."

Despite her disbelief, the corners of Y/n’s lips ticked up. Eris looked just like one of his young pups, excitement in his eyes and a jump in his step.

The happiness and hope in his eyes made her realise.

I love him.

fuck.

I love him.

She gazed at him, freckles decorating his skin like freckles glowing in the fire in the hearth, the way his eyes glinted with something so pure, so innocent, the childlike glee…

It was impossible to say no.

Not like she wanted to in the first place.

"Yes."

He blinked, his ears darkening. "Yes?"

"Yes, I will marry you, Eris Vanserra."

The smile that split his plush lips could have lighted the whole universe. She knew it would light any dark days she would have to face in the future.

"I- thank you, Y/n. Oh mother." He stepped back, his hands shaking as he shoved them in his pocket and pulled out a small box, his fingers fumbling for a moment before finally getting it open. "This… I cannot believe this. Oh my god."

He grabbed her hand, pushing a beautiful ruby and diamond encrusted ring onto her finger.

She laughed at his reaction, pulling him into a hug. His arms wrapped around her in a tight vise, asif he never wanted to let go.

Y/n hoped he would never.

They stayed in the embrace for long moments, neither wanting to let go.

"Eris?"

"Hmm?"

"I’m so glad I met you."

"Y/n?" he whispered in her ear.

She grinned into his shoulder as he began swaying her softly. "Hmm?"

"I’m so glad I met Fin."

She gasped, pulling away to glare at him, but he had already made a run for the door, his cheeks red and his eyes crinkling.

She stared at his back, her eyes refusing to move from his figure until the door swung shut behind Eris. Her lips twitched, and she shook her head, biting her lips to try to stop herself from grinning like an idiot in love.

It was of no use, of course.

Because she was, after all, an idiot in love.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Remember me Taglist: @holb32 @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo

@we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913

@j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz

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@eos-princess @nightless @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld

@asemkta @cat-or-kitten @txzii @bunnyredgirl

@theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb

@azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas @12358

@justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta @fides25

@nocasdatsgay @acourtofbatboydreams @stained-glass-eyes0708 @glaciuswduo

@wallacewillow0773638 @cassie6392 @quackitysdrugdealer @txzii

@anuttellaa @coisas-da-dani @hnyclover @sassyslytherinshai

@historygeekqueen @why4anne @mybestfriendmademe @going-through-shit

@thisblogisaboutabook @thehighlordishere @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @thena101

@azrielsmate3 @rcarbo1

#eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar series #acotar writing #a court of mist and fury #mating bond #sarah j maas #acotar headcanon #pro eris vanserra #acotar

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