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navybrat817 · 2 days ago

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Hold You Tight: Part 18

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 17 | Series Masterlist | Part 19

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.8k

Chapter Summary: You open up to Bucky before he meets your friends.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, dubcon elements, heavy petting, tension, kissing, inner turmoil, backstory, reference to unsupportive parents, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Waking up in Bucky’s arms felt different than it had the night before. This morning felt a bit easier and, dare you think, it was natural. A hand moved up and down your back, but it was more of a soothing motion than trying to turn you on. It was so comfortable that it almost put you back to sleep.

“Morning,” he whispered against your forehead.

“Morning,” you whispered back, waiting for him to inevitably start groping you. He didn’t. “Wait, you’re not dry humping me today?”

He let out a sleepy chuckle. “Not unless you want me to,” he teased, leaning back to gaze at you.

You looked at him, too. It was the most relaxed and well rested you had seen him look since you met. And the happiest. You being in the penthouse really made a difference in the dangerous man.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked, brushing a finger along your cheek.

“Yeah,” you answered. You hadn't meant to fall asleep in the living room, but he didn't seem to mind. “Did you?”

“I did.” He sat up after a moment and stretched. “I’m actually kind of glad we didn't sleep in our bed.”

“Why is that?” you asked.

“Because we haven't made love yet,” he answered in a low voice.

You ignored the heat flowing from your core. “I’m kind of surprised you're holding out,” you said. With the way he always had to touch you and the filthy things that spewed from his mouth, he had to be a ticking time bomb.

Your reaction to him surprised you, too. It was just days ago when you wretched from just the stress of him blowing up your life and everything. Yet last night, you got yourself on his thigh with his encouragement and you willingly slept in his arms. Did that say more about you or him?

He sighed. “Once I have you I won't be able to stop. That’s how much I want you and will keep wanting you,” he admitted, separating himself from you more. “But I want your trust and forcing you into bed won't build it. We’ll be back at square one.”

You blinked slowly. Bucky pushed your boundaries one second and backed off the next. He tore through your walls and rebuilt them just as quickly. The man was a puzzle you feared you’d never figure out.

“It isn't just my trust that you want from me,” you said. That wouldn’t be enough for him. “You want me to love you.”

His eyes bore into yours and it felt like he was letting a wall down for you. “Yes, I do want you to love me,” he said, his voice thick. “I want a life with you and whatever exists beyond that.”

You swallowed. The air was too thick in the room, the emotions raw. He wanted you to love him even after you were gone from this world. “Your Pisces is showing again,” you whispered like it was a secret.

“Well, you did say I was intense, passionate, and I want to be close to the person I fall for,” he whispered, brushing a kiss to your lips and helping you slowly stand. “It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you.”

“I guess not,” you agreed, looking around. You hadn’t checked your phone at all since you went to his place. “What time is it?”

“Still early. Why don’t we have breakfast and then you can get ready for your day out?” he suggested.

That brought a smile to your face. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

His smile wasn’t as bright as yours as he led you to the kitchen and helped you take a seat at the island. “Eager to spend the day away from me?”

He sounded so sad you almost went to him to hug him. “I’m eager to spend the day with my friends,” you corrected him, watching him move around the kitchen with ease. “They’re kind of like sisters to me.”

“Sisters.” He paused and looked at you with a careful eye. “Do you realize you’ve never talked about your family with me? Not once.”

You kept a neutral expression, but you wrung your hands together in your lap. You were surprised it took him this long to point that out. “There isn’t much to say.”

He set two mugs on the coffee maker. “I think there is,” he said, facing you again. “You always mention your friends, your coworkers, Mrs. Crandle, and there’s always affection and love there, but never your parents. Why not?”

If he dug into your life the way he said he had, surely, he knew in some capacity. And it was too early to discuss them, but he would ask again later if you brushed it off. “Because they’re not exactly proud to have me as a daughter,” you sighed, trying not to reflect too deeply on that.

His mouth was set in a grim line. “Why not?” he all but snarled.

You shrugged and avoided his gaze. “I was just never good enough, you know? Whether it was my grades or sports or anything I tried, I was never… exceptional or special. Even when I did well at something it wasn't enough. It was always a toss-up between disappointment and indifference,” you explained. Your accomplishments weren't anything of importance in their eyes. “And when I said I wanted to be a florist I was pretty much told that my life was…” you paused. You weren’t going to cry. “A waste.”

“A waste?” The murderous expression on his face oddly brought you more comfort. “But you are exceptional. You lead with kindness and a good heart when it’s easier to be cruel or jaded. Your kindness saved my mom, and she knew you were special,” he said, shaking his head as he rounded the island. “It’s no wonder you never talk about them. It also explains more of why compliments make you feel uncertain.”

“It’s okay, Bucky,” you whispered.

Your parents weren’t bad people. They never raised a hand to you, and they gave you what you needed to survive in life, but not much else beyond that. No encouragement or affirmations of love. If you disappeared tomorrow, they wouldn’t know. You were invisible.

It was fine. You accepted a long time ago that you weren’t special in their eyes. The life you made in the city with your other loved ones was enough to give you a sense of family and it didn’t take away from the fact that you still loved your parents, but you refused to be like them. You’d still find ways to put kindness out into the world. You’d make others smile if you could. It wasn’t always much, but maybe it would make a difference in some way to someone.

And, well, who you were and what you did made a difference if you asked Bucky.

“It’s not okay,” he argued, framing your face. The intensity didn’t frighten you this time when you looked into his eyes. “And I’m so sorry I brought it up.”

“It really is okay,” you softly said, wondering how he got you to open up again. You would’ve had to talk about it sooner or later and there were people who grew up with much worse. “But you really think I’m exceptional? I’m just-”

He put his fingers to your lips, the thunderous look back on his face. “Don’t you dare say you’re just a florist or I’ll put you over my knee.”

Your eyes widened. He was serious. “I’m just… really hungry for breakfast?” you tried.

He exhaled deeply. “I’ll make sure you’re well fed,” he promised, going back to the task at hand. His shoulders were still stiff as he moved around. “When I compliment you, I mean it. And when I say you’re special or exceptional or anything else, I mean it. I won't let anyone make you feel less than what I know you are.”

Your chest tightened. “I know,” you whispered. The subtle threat to the cook for insulting your taste, beating up John for disrespecting you, he wasn't going to sit by and let people make you feel bad. Maybe one of the reasons he wanted to show you off to his loved ones was so you wouldn't feel invisible.

“Thank you for telling me, Kotyonok. I know that wasn't easy,” he praised.

“Thank you for asking,” you replied, allowing the warmth to settle in your chest.

“But I’m not asking your parent’s permission to marry you,” he blurted out, your eyes rounding. “They lost that privilege when they treated you the way they did.”

“They wouldn’t believe I was marrying you anyway,” you tried to joke. They would recognize immediately how out of your league he was.

“And they don’t need to come to the wedding either,” he snarled, carefully setting your coffee down in front of you when he looked close to throwing something. “It’ll be a small ceremony anyway. Just close friends and loved ones who matter.”

Your heart did a funny flutter. A small ceremony was exactly what you wanted. “Well, if my dad isn’t there, who will give me away?”

“Thor,” he answered without skipping a beat.

You burst out laughing, surprising both of you. The blonde would probably strut down the aisle. “I barely know Thor, but I feel like he'd probably shout something like ‘All rise for the soon-to-queen of the 107th’,” you mocked in what was a terrible impression of Thor.

Bucky laughed, too. “Not the best impression, Kotyonok, but you tried, and he’d probably say something exactly like that.”

“Well, whatever he says, I won’t walk down the aisle in some over the top dress. I want something beautiful, but simple. Same with the ceremony and reception,” you smiled. Something that was you. “And I get the final say in the flowers for obvious reasons.”

His eyes were full of love. Was he picturing you in a wedding gown? “As long as you get to be my wife, our wedding can be whatever you want it to be.”

Your smile slipped. His wife… You hadn’t shut down that you were going to marry him or pointed out how he was once again moving too fast. You even joked about your big day with him. “Um… breakfast?” Anything to distract you.

He had an easy smile on his face as he whipped up something quickly. Minus a quick thank you once he served it, you didn’t say anything else as you ate, and he didn’t push the conversation. Opening up a bit about your family and talking about marriage… Being in the penthouse destroyed your mental and emotional fail-safes.

“I should get ready,” you said, setting your finished plate in the sink and rinsing it.

“Me, too.” You felt him watching you. “If the weather’s nice tomorrow, we can have breakfast on the balcony. Maybe we can make it our routine on nice days.”

“Tomorrow?” you asked.

“If you want to spend the night again,” he casually replied, but you heard the want there. “Especially since we’ll be apart for most of the day.”

“Maybe,” you said. You had planned to just go back to your place once you got back from your day out. “We’ll play it by ear, okay?”

Disappointment showed for just a moment. “You said you’d spend time with me when you got back. That you’d let me know when you got back to the apartment so I could see you.”

“I did say that,” you agreed, remembering your promise when he tried to convince you not to go out today. “But maybe you can stop by the apartment. It could be fun.”

“I guess we’ll play it by ear,” he smiled.

You didn’t wait for him to follow as you went to get ready, but you did pause when you stood in the master bathroom. The left sink clearly belonged to Bucky. His toothbrush, cologne, everything was on that side. The right sink was yours. A toothbrush for you, a new bottle of perfume, deodorant, everything. It was like you were already living there.

You jumped when you felt a pair of lips on the side of your neck, your eyes meeting Bucky’s in the mirror. You hadn’t heard him come in, too distracted by your reality continuing to sink in. “I’ll miss you today,” he whispered, holding your hips.

“I’m not gone yet,” you whispered. You were there with him, in his grip. His touch would linger after he let go.

“I really hate having to share you,” he murmured, dragging his lips to your ear as your heart raced. “But I thankfully don’t have to share all of you.”

You gripped the sink when he snaked a hand between your legs. “Bucky,” you gasped.

“I know it’s selfish to ask when you’re spending time with your friends, but think of me,” he said, rubbing you through your pajamas and pressing his hips firmly against yours. Did being this close to you always make him hard? “Think of how much I want you.”

Your back arched when the metal hand moved to your breast and gently squeezed. You wanted to look away, but his reflection pulled your gaze to it. Trapping you, the way he had you trapped between him and the sink.

“Think of how much I need you,” he whispered, nipping your earlobe when you whimpered. The more he rubbed your pussy through the clothes the wetter the fabric got, the heavier your breathing became, and the more your head spun. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you whispered. It didn’t matter where you went or who you were with, he’d find a way to seep into your thoughts.

He moaned, his nose moving along your neck before he stopped rubbing you. “That’s my girl.”

You didn’t let go of the sink when he stepped away, your body slightly shaking as you came down from the high he built within. “And you’ll think of me?”

“I’m always thinking of you, Kotyonok,” he said, running a comb through his hair like he didn’t have a raging hard-on. “Always.”

You believed him. “Are you… going to take care of that?” you asked.

He glanced at his crotch with a smirk. “I probably should.” He leaned over and kissed your temple. “I’ll put some music on so you won’t have to hear me this time.”

“How considerate.”

“I’m a considerate guy,” he winked, leaving you alone in the bathroom.

“How do guys walk like that?” you muttered.

You waited until you heard the music start before you went through your routine. He’d likely moan your name at some point while he jerked off. At least he let you be so you could get ready and change into your dress. He said he wanted your trust, but he still found ways to touch you and wind you up. The tension was going to snap at some point and you wondered just how soon.

Looking at yourself in the mirror once you were ready, you tried to smile. You looked admittedly beautiful and felt confident for a fun day out. Did any of that have to do with Bucky?

You emerged after hiding in the bathroom long enough and stared as you saw Bucky in the bedroom. You half expected him to be in bed jerking off or doing something else, but he was dressed for the day. Head to toe in black with his hair slicked back, he looked impeccable as always. The expensive watch and pinky ring fit him well. Did he ever dress down? Why did he have to look so handsome?

“Wow,” he said when he caught you staring. “You look… so beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you said, your cheeks warm as he crossed the room toward you.

Your eyelids fluttered when he placed a gentle kiss on your lips and put something in your hand. When did he grab your phone? “Ray’s going to follow you from Addison’s place.”

It was nice that Ray would be the one to go today and not someone else. “Oh, okay,” you said, checking real quick to make sure you didn’t have any missed calls or messages. “You really know where Addison lives then?”

The subtle smirk made your throat go dry. “Let’s go.”

As he led you out, you wondered if Zemo also knew where any of your friends lived. He got to Mrs. Crandle, but didn’t harm her. Would he do anything else? Glancing at Bucky, the men almost seemed to be two sides of the same coin. The difference was that Bucky thought he loved you and he knew how much your friends meant to you.

A text from Addison came through and broke you from your thoughts. “We’ll be waiting outside!”

“On my way!” you sent back. “They’ll be waiting outside,” you told Bucky.

“The plus side of dropping you off is I get to meet your friends before Addison’s wedding,” Bucky smiled. “Do you think she’ll be the maid of honor for our wedding? I already know Steve will be the best man.”

Back to talking about your wedding day. “Most likely. And Dana and Gina as bridesmaids,” you said. They’d be so happy and would never know how everything came about.

“You know what would be fun? Cupcakes. All sorts of flavors so everyone has something they want, but we’ll have a small cake for the two of us,” he smiled more, reaching over to take your hand. “And we should have a two week honeymoon. Minimum.”

You almost choked on your breath. The man did say he wouldn’t be able to stop having you once he started. Was this the kind of love you deserved? Obsession? “That’s a long honeymoon.”

“It’s just a start,” he sighed happily. “Mr. and Mrs. Barnes. Sounds perfect, doesn’t it?”

You glanced at him. “Sounds perfect,” you whispered.

He brushed his thumb over your ring finger. “I just need to get the perfect ring on your finger,” he whispered.

You bit your lip and looked out the window. You could’ve brought him back to reality or pulled away, but you didn’t. You did, however, tense up the closer you got to Addison’s place. This was meant to be your fun day out, but it was going to be about Bucky because your friends would see him. They’d ask questions. They’d be excited and happy for you, too.

Once again there’d be no going back.

Bucky tensed up, too, when he parked. The girls were waiting on the sidewalk and you couldn't help but smile. It was good to see them. “Here we are,” he muttered, squeezing your hand. “And now that we’re here I don’t want you to get out.”

You took a breath. He couldn’t back out now. “I’ll think of you just like you said. How much you want and need me,” you promised him, giving his hand a squeeze this time. “And before you know it you’ll see me tonight.”

He took a breath, too. “I’ll count the minutes,” he said, getting out. You let out a sigh of relief when he went around and helped you out. He had your cardigan in hand, too. “And I have a surprise for you and your friends.”

“A surprise?” you asked.

“Hey!” you heard Addison call out. She waved happily when you made eye contact. “You’re here!”

“Hey,” you smiled, leaning into Bucky when he slipped his arm around you. “I’m here.”

Addison’s face lit up as you walked toward her with Bucky by your side. “Oh, my God. Is this him?!” she asked.

“Him?! Who is him?!” Dana questioned, sweeping an appreciative look over Bucky. She was in a happily committed relationship but appreciated a good-looking man when she saw one. “Who are you?”

“Yeah, who are you?” Gina added with a raised brow. Showing up with a guy wasn’t like you.

“Hi, I’m Bucky,” he smiled charmingly before he gazed at you. “Her boyfriend.”

Your face felt so hot you thought it would catch on fire. He spoke it into existence and made it happen. He weaved the threads of your lives to bring you to this point, to every point.

Addison did an excited little hop. “Yes! Yay! You’re her boyfriend!”

“Yeah, I’m her boyfriend. And you’re Addison, Dana, and Gina,” Bucky smiled, shaking each of their hands. Your blood froze. You never pointed out to him who was who, yet it was another reminder of just how much he knew. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

“AHH!” Addison’s excited shriek made you wince. “She mentioned you were coming to the wedding.”

“I am,” Bucky nodded.

Dana’s jaw dropped. “Hold on. A wedding date?! BOYFRIEND?! Holy fucking shit!”

“Why are we just now finding out you have a boyfriend?!” Gina chimed in.

Bucky held his head high. He was loving this, wasn't he? “Um, surprise?” you lamely spoke, taking in the sight of their shocked and thrilled expressions. They were so happy for you and it nearly made you cry.

Bucky chuckled again and held you tighter. “It’s kind of my fault she hasn’t said much about me. It’s still new and I’ve been selfishly monopolizing her time,” he said. They had no idea how true that statement was. “To be honest, I even begged her to hang out with me today because I love spending time with her, but she was really looking forward to hanging out with you ladies.”

The chorus of “aww’s” would’ve been sweet in any other setting, but he was putting them under his spell. “Okay, but seriously, why are you here with us and not hanging out with your new man?” Dana asked, looking over Bucky again. “I’m on your side, Bucky. She could totally ditch us and we’d get it. Really.”

“I promised him I’d see him tonight,” you said quickly, resting a hand on Bucky’s chest. You didn’t want him to take the bait your friend was unknowingly giving him.

“Yes, you did. And I know you’ll have a blast today,” he said, kissing your temple. “Wait, you ladies weren’t planning on driving or taking a cab, were you?”

“We were going to get an uber or something once my cousin got here,” Addison said.

“Oh, no, no. You can’t take an uber to the winery. That’s your ride,” Bucky said, nodding across the street when a limo pulled up. “My treat.”

You gasped. So did your friends. “Oh, my god. Bucky?” When did he arrange that?

“Surprise,” he smiled, sneaking in a kiss. “And you don’t have to worry about paying for drinks or your meals today either. I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”

“Holy shit. Are you loaded or something?” Dana blurted out.

“Dana!” Gina hissed. You almost laughed. Dana had no filter, but she meant well. “What she meant was ‘thank you’.”

“It’s fine. Believe it or not, I actually own The 107th, but I don’t really like to brag about it.” Bucky casually shrugged. You stared at him before sneaking another glance at your friends. They were intrigued and completely buying what a ‘sweet’ guy he was. “There is one small catch though, if you don’t mind.”

Addison raised an eyebrow. “What’s the catch?”

“Kotyonok, can you hand her your phone so she can get a photo of us?” he asked, pulling you closer against him and curling his lips in a small smile. “That’s the catch.”

“Oh, my god. He has a sexy nickname for her and everything,” Dana loudly whispered as you handed your phone over.

“A free limo ride with paid food and drinks if we take a photo of you two together? That’s not a catch at all. That’s so sweet!” Addison held the phone up as you tried to put on your best smile. Like it was a normal love story. “One, two, three!”

You stood still for a few seconds before you stole a glance at Bucky. He was looking at you, too, and leaned in for a tender kiss. It was a loving gesture, but you knew it to be possessive, too. Your friends weren’t a threat to your relationship, but Bucky would have all of your attention if he had his way.

“He’s totally enamored,” Dana whispered again.

“I think they can hear you,” Gina whispered back.

“Okay, you two are so photogenic,” Addison swore, handing your phone back. Your breath caught as you swiped through the photos. You two looked like you were in love. How did the camera not catch any of your fear or uncertainty?

Your friends didn’t see it either. All they saw was a happy new couple. Maybe it was better that way.

“I’m not the photogenic one. She is,” Bucky smiled, giving you one more kiss. “Do you mind sending me those, please? Maybe I can frame one of them.”

You bit the inside of your cheek at the additional chorus of “aww’s”. “Sure.” You sent them immediately so he wouldn’t hound you for them later.

Bucky checked his phone when it went off. “Perfect,” he whispered. You thought your friends were going to swoon. “You’ll have to let me know how the winery is. I may have to do an event there in the future.”

Addison smiled and looked between the two of you. “Well, you could check the place out yourself if you want.”

Your heart plummeted and your best friend missed the pleading look in your eyes. “I don’t think-”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that. It’s your day out and me being there makes it feel like I’m crashing the party or keeping tabs on my girl,” Bucky said, rubbing your side.

Your mouth fell open. Were you in the twilight zone? All he ever did was keep tabs on you.

Glancing at the limo, you spotted Ray’s vehicle parked behind it. He couldn’t exactly get out and introduce himself without drawing suspicion because what excuse would he have to be there that your friends would buy? But he did say he could avoid being seen, and you had a feeling he’d still manage to keep a close eye on you today.

“Well, you know we’re going to spend the whole limo ride over hounding her about this new chapter of her love life,” Gina teased.

“I have no doubt,” Bucky winked. “I just hope I’ve made a good impression because she means the world to me and I know she values your opinions.”

“As long as you treat her well. Otherwise, we’ll have to get rid of you.” Addison gave him a hard stare before she smiled. “But I think it’s safe to say you’ve passed the first impression test with flying colors.”

You deflated a bit. That was what you were afraid of. It was better that way. It meant they were safe from Bucky’s wrath.

“I’ll treat her like a queen,” Bucky promised. Whether you wanted it or not. “My girl deserves nothing less than that.”

“You two really are a good looking couple,” Dana noted, wiggling her eyebrows. “I’ll bet the photographer snags some photos of you two at the wedding because how could they not?”

Bucky put a hand on his chest. “I’d love more photos of the two of us, but the focus should be on Addison and Brady since it’s their day.”

He knew all the right things to say.

“You’re too kind.” Addison smiled before her phone went off. Looking at the screen, she groaned. “Of course. My cousin’s just going to meet us there, so I guess we can go?”

“I’ll walk you over,” Bucky offered.

He dug his fingers in enough for you to feel it and you noted the stiffness in his stance as he walked you across the street. Sending you off with your friends was a lot for him, but he had to deal with it. With Ray close by he wouldn’t have to worry about your safety either.

“Thanks again for the limo, Bucky. That was really nice of you,” Addison said.

“No thanks necessary. Just have fun today and drink plenty of water if you do lots of sampling,” he said, pulling you against him before you could get into the limo with your friends. He looked so lost for a split second and immediately leaned into your touch when your hand rested on his cheek. “I love you, Kotyonok. Think of me,” he whispered.

You initiated a gentle kiss which he quickly deepened. It didn’t last long since he had to let you go, but it lingered for both of you. “I will, Bucky.”

You’d think of him after he helped you into the limo. He’d occupy your mind on the drive over. And you’d once again miss the other pair of eyes watching you as you tried to enjoy your day.

Let's hope the day is a fun one. Who is watching? What's Bucky going to do while you're gone? How excited will Thor be when he hears the big news? 😂 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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frostycatblr-fandom-files · 1 hour ago

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mononijikayu · 1 day ago

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lovesick — ryomen sukuna.

"I'm serious about my girl." Sukuna retorted back, snickering at the white haired vice-captain. "I'm serious, if she calls me anything else, I'll be nothing. Just how it is." "I see, I see." Before Sukuna could fire back something at him, Gojo’s attention shifted to something—or someone—over Sukuna’s shoulder. Gojo started pointing at the doorway. “Oh, and here she is now, captain.” he said, smirking like a man who’d just lit a match in a fireworks factory. "Your beloved girlfriend!"

Genre: Alternate Universe — College! AU;

Warning/s: Short Fic, General Rating, AFAB! Reader, Use of She/Her, Use of Female Centered Identification, Pet Names (Babe, My Love, Etc), Romance, Fluff, Humour, Love, Comfort/No Hurt, Established Relationship, Lovers, Dating, Feeling, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Idiots In Love, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Healthy Relationship, Friendships, Profanity, Swearing, Teasing, Volleyball, Volleyball Captain! Sukuna, Boyfriend! Sukuna, Girlfriend! Reader;

Words: 3.8k words.

Note: i wanted to see ryomen sukuna be someone that is pathetically in love with his lover, because i needed a break from my pattern of being angsty with sukuna, so here you go. that being said, i'm sorry this is shorter than what i usually write. i'm prepping a lot of things because im going to be back in uni soon and i need to make sure i fix the queue!!! that being said, i'll post tomorrow about the valentines special!!! thank you for reading!!! i love you all <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

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IF THERE WAS ONE THING ABOUT HIM, ITS THE FACT THAT HE IS A STRONG PERSONALLY. He knew that too well, everyone knew that just as much. Ryomen Sukuna was just easily the most incredible force to be reckoned with. Whether that be meeting him personally or whether that be hearing baout him in passing.

Everyone would say the same thing about him — it's hard to find out what to say about him without going on a tangent for hours on end. And that was just the easiest thing to do, rather than finding anything definite to say.

The one and only captain of the top ranking college varsity volleyball team in all of Japan, Ryomen Sukuna dominated the court like it was his personal kingdom with that iron fist. He has such a stellar record of existence, that was to be sure, wearing the crown.

All his opponents could only quiver at the sight of his one of a kind powerful line spike. All the teammates he'd have since junior high could only respect and fear him with almost military reverence, like he was their general.

Of course, all his coaches over the years swore he could crush concrete if he so much as clenched his fists mid-serve. That perhaps, it would be good to gentle parent him as much as possible, knowing he's already quite the fire cracker of a man.

Or that he could end up cussing out everyone at the court as easily as one does breathing. That's of course, why the coaches would find him to be the "Cursed King." It was an intimidating title that had followed him since junior high school.

One moment he's someone that you curse because you lost a game because of him, another time you curse him because your team got fined because he ended up causing a fight. And with a name like that, Sukuna relished the air of invincibility it gave him.

Everyone had a box for Sukuna to fit in, of course. That continued over time, to be something that people couldn't avoid making for him and only him. That was just how it was, when you have someone as enigmatic as him.

To some of his teammates, he was "Cap"—the iron-willed leader who demanded nothing less than perfection. The one that would force them to run miles on end until they fell from exhaustion. The one who forced them to do hundreds of spikes until it took out the bottles he prepared on the other side of the court.

The rival schools referred to him as "Demon Spike" but this was mostly because he left a trail of destruction (and bruises) every time he stepped onto the court. One moment that's from the fact that his serves were just dangerously low and one moment it's because he heard someone bad mouth his underclassman.

Of course, even his many teachers and now his college professors had their own opinions for him one at a time over the many years. One of the most known nicknames for him by the professors in the college halls is “The GPA Crusher”.

To the younger underclassmen, who unfortunately still looked at him with bright eyes under those filtered glasses on — he was a mix of "Sensei of True Discipline" and "Volleyball God".

He was to them, a figure of unadulterated awe and of course, that desire to hope, that perhaps they would end up like him too. After all, he was always a star in the court. But in a different way, in the good way. That's how they think.

But this was because Ryomen Sukuna spent more time perfecting his jump serves against his opponent than ever having effort in writing essays for submission. Ironically, even though he was quite a smart young man. The fact that he shows up to exams more than classes and still passes with flying colors is quite certain proof.

But to you, his beloved girlfriend, Ryomen Sukuna was none of these things. He didn’t live in a box and he never wished to do so, no. Instead, he lived eternally, forever, even in the next life — in your heart.

Though he’d never say something that cheesy out loud. That part is not easy for him, but you didn't mind that. You liked to keep him to yourself most of the time. And he was satisfied with that.

The most you could hear from him about you is in passing. Sometimes practice would finish and he, still full of sweat, would immediately pack his things into his gym bag, almost suddenly becoming ignorant of everything else.

His underclassman would invite him to eat something like yakuniku and he would say with a straight face — "I can't. My girfriend wants to cook some authentic pasta for me at her place. Bye."

He would leave almost instantly, much to the shock of the underclassman each year. But most of his teammates, who were also somehow his friends, were not surprised. He and you were dating early on during junior high school. And he would be the same way.

When he wasn't looking, people could only surmise what he looked like when he towered over your giddy figure at every practice, at every game — 'Ah, I see. He's lovesick. And in a good way.'

To Sukuna, you were perhaps the only thing that could triumph against volleyball. You were his number one. And he knew that you thought of him the same way too. And everyone knew that too.

That's why you only ever called him one thing: my love. And to Sukuna, that title was worth more than any championship trophy. But of course, no one knew that. It's not like you don't call him that in public. It's just that no one asks, what that nickname is.

The look in your eyes was more than enough when he makes a wink for you at each serve was enough, the smile on your lips when he comes to greet you at the bleachers was more than enough. No one needed to hear the nickname to know that there was something loving between the two of you.

He knew this truth as well as he knew how to spike a ball with a precise edge. He knew this as much as he knew what would get him a championship. But of course, that doesn't stop curiosity at times. At times he humors them, at times he does not. It was a hit and miss.

That’s why, during a post-practice break, when the Vice Captain of the Volleyball team, Gojo Satoru, decided to start stirring the pot as usual with his antics. And somehow, today, Ryomen Sukuna didn’t mind it. There was something in the air. They could feel it.

(He won't tell anyone about this, but he has very happy about something.

He was after all happy that his girlfriend was staying at his dorm tonight to spoon on his bed after your finals kept you apart for nearly two weeks —

But no one needs to know that.

Otherwise, they'd use it against him.

And he can't have that right now.

It will spoil these bastards and make them too relaxed before championships again.)

Gojo leaned against the bleachers with that signature cocky grin. “Hey, Sukuna.” he drawled, as he watched the captain drink from his water bottle. "You’ve got about a million nicknames floating around. But what are you to your girlfriend?”

Ryomen Sukuna didn’t miss a beat.

He put down his water bottle swiftly.

He glared at Gojo Satoru with a passion.

He tilted his head back, eyes half-lidded with that calm arrogance he wore so well. “Huh? My girl can only call me my love or nothing.” he said, his voice practically dripping with pride.

"Hehhhhh, really?"

“If she calls me anything else, I’ll disappear and leave no trace. Hell, I'll jump off a cliff and make sure I drown into the ocean and never be seen again."

Gojo barked out a laugh, his hands clapping together as if Sukuna had just told the world’s funniest joke. “Wow. Our captain sure is seriously whipped. Actually, that probably doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

"I'm serious about my girl." Sukuna retorted back, snickering at the white haired vice-captain. "I'm serious, if she calls me anything else, I'll be nothing. Just how it is."

"I see, I see."

Before Sukuna could fire back something at him, Gojo’s attention shifted to something—or someone—over Sukuna’s shoulder. Gojo started pointing at the doorway.

“Oh, and here she is now, captain.” he said, smirking like a man who’d just lit a match in a fireworks factory. "Your beloved girlfriend!"

Ryomen Sukuna turned slowly, his earlier bravado evaporating the second he saw you standing at the gym door. Your arms were crossed, your eyes sharp, and your posture practically screamed, You’re in trouble.

“Sukuna.” you called out, your tone cutting through the gym like a whistle signaling the end of a game.

His entire body could only stiffen. He didn’t just flinch—he practically short-circuited. The other players and members, the entire volleyball staff, sensing the shift in the air, immediately stopped what they were doing to watch the drama unfold. All of their eyes were glued on this moment, more than anything.

“Ryomen Sukuna!” you said again, each syllable landing like the sound of a referee’s whistle before a penalty.

Sukuna’s brain scrambled for an escape route. “What the fuck?” he muttered under his breath, frozen in place.

“Ryomen Sukuna, come here.”

“No.” His voice cracked as he stood up so fast he nearly knocked over a water bottle.

His scarlet eyes were shaking as much as his body was. No one has ever seen this before. No one had ever seen the panic on his face before. Not even in a hard game to win. This was the very first time their formidable captain looked so defeated and horrified.

“No, no, my name is my love! It’s my love! What did I do?” he asked, practically sprinting toward you like a volleyball rolling out of bounds.

Gojo Satoru, thoroughly entertained, cackled so hard he nearly fell off the bleachers. “Man, even the Cursed King has a leash!” he wheezed, clutching his stomach. "This is how he is with her. That's interesting, isn't it?"

"He doesn't look like who he actually is in the moment, huh." Nanami Kento whispered under his breath, wiping the sweat with the towel over his shoulder. "We should have used this card when he refused to stop practice during last year's finals."

"Well now we can." Geto Suguru snickers, lounging on the floor as he watched the scene with mirth in his purple gaze. "Does anyone have objections?"

"None here!" The chorus of seniors and juniors retorted back at him.

"Someone save her phone number for speed dial!" Gojo said, pointing to one of the managers who nodded.

By the time Ryomen Sukuna reached you, he was a completely different man. The fearsome captain who dominated courts and crushed spirits was reduced to a panicked, apologetic mess. You continued to stand before him, rolling your eyes, his towering figure in tatters at what you called him.

“I swear I didn’t do anything! There's no girls or even guys! There isn't anything else. You can check my phone. Or you can ask everyone here too!"

"Sukuna—"

"Whatever it was, I’ll do everything fix it and make it right, babe—just don’t call me that again. Please!” he begged, his voice low enough that only you could hear the desperation in it.

"Calm down." You raised an eyebrow, letting him stew for a moment before finally speaking. “You forgot to text me that practice was running late. And I was concerned. I thought we were going to meet up at the cafe nearby so we can go to your dorm together!”

Sukuna blinked. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.” you said, though your tone suggested you might have a few more grievances stored up for later. "Well, I'm also hungry."

Sukuna exhaled so dramatically it was a wonder he didn’t collapse on the spot. “I’ll never forget again, okay?” he promised, his voice full of sincerity. “Babe, I’ll set an alarm—no, two alarms—just for you. And don't worry, we're gonna eat. Actually, take my card and buy something in the cafe while you wait for me.”

As he continued to rattle off promises, you couldn’t help but smile at him. Cursed King or not, to you, Sukuna was just your dorky loving boyfriend, forever trying to live up to his title of my love in your life. And if the rest of the gym wanted to watch him grovel? Well, that was just an added bonus. By the gods, you love him.

"I love you, my love." You whispered to him, taking his hand into yours. "I'm sorry I scared you like that."

"No, no, that was my fault." He grumbled under his breathe, taking a moment to settle in the warmth of your eyes, reserved just for him. "I should have noticed the time. I will never forget about it again, I promise."

"Hm, that's all that matters, my love."

"I'll make us dessert tonight as an apology." He says, moving closer to kiss your temple.

"That would be good, my love."

As Sukuna continued his frantic apologies, the rest of the gym erupted into poorly stifled snickers. Gojo Satoru, of course, was the loudest, slapping his knee like he’d just witnessed the greatest comedy set of the century.

“My love, huh? Big, bad Cursed King reduced to a golden retriever!” he teased, practically howling. “Hey, did you hear that, boys? If she calls him Ryomen Sukuna one more time, he might just cry.”

“Should we start calling him my love too, senpai? Y’know, in solidarity?” chimed Underclassman Itadori Yuuji, grinning as he leaned on his volleyball. The suggestion earned a chorus of laughs and a few enthusiastic nods.

“Yeah, Cap! Don’t worry, my love, we’ve got your back!” Underclassman Fushiguro Megumi deadpanned from the sidelines, his usual stoic face cracking into a rare smirk.

One of the first year underclassman, emboldened by the chaos, cupped his hands around his mouth and called out, “We love you, my love! You’re our MVP for all seasons! With so much love, my love!”

Sukuna whipped his head around, his scarlet glare promising death, destruction, and possibly laps for everyone involved. “If anyone other than my girlfriend calls me that, I swear.” he growled, “I will personally make sure you regret it.”

“Sure, my love!” Gojo crowed, leaning back against the bleachers with a devilish grin. “Ooooh, should we get it printed on the back of your jersey? Cursed King on the front, My Love on the back—perfect balance, don’t you think?"

Geto laughs loudly. "You know what, I think we can make this happen. Coach! We got the budget for that, right?"

“Or maybe embroider it on the team banner!” someone else chimed in, sending the gym into another fit of laughter.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, doubling over as Sukuna turned a deeper shade of red than the volleyballs on the court. His sharp retorts and death glares only fueled the chaos, the once-commanding presence of the Cursed King now utterly eclipsed by the sheer hilarity of the moment.

Finally, Sukuna turned back to you, his expression a mix of betrayal and exasperation. “You’re supposed to defend me, babe.” he muttered, his voice low but desperate.

You reached up to pat his cheek, your grin as sweet as honey. “Oh, my love, I am defending you. I’m making sure they never forget how cute you are to me."

For the rest of practice, you sat down and watched everything unfold before you as you ate your croissant and drank your coffee from the cafe which you bought using your boyfriend's card, of course.

For a while, the gym echoed with the sound of volleyballs, laughter, and the occasional teasing chorus of “My love!” — especially when Sukuna found himself scoring a point, which of course led to him missing the next hit.

Every time someone said it later on, Ryomen Sukuna looked seconds away from snapping a net in half, but deep down, though he’d never admit it, he wouldn’t have traded his nickname or the teasing for anything in the world. Not when you were there, cheering it for him with that adorable voice of yours, loving him completely.

Maybe it wasn't so bad to be lovesick like that.

Not when it was you who loved him just like that.

That's just how he loved you too.

══════════════════

epilogue

After what felt like the longest practice of his life, one that was just peppered with relentless teasing from his teammates and the volleyball team staff — Ryomen Sukuna was finally free to leave with you, to enjoy the weekend together.

He barely said goodbye to the others, grumbling something about “making them run that suicidal hill again on Monday” before grabbing his bag and leading you out of the gym.

“Unbelievable.” he muttered under his breath as you walked side by side. “Gojo’s gonna be insufferable for weeks.”

You stifled a laugh. “Weeks? You mean forever.”

He shot you a look, but there was no real heat behind it. Instead, he sighed and draped an arm over your shoulder as the two of you made your way to his car. “You’re lucky I love you, y’know. Otherwise, I might’ve disappeared on the spot after what you pulled, babe.”

“Oh, come on, my love.” you teased, leaning into him. “It was worth it to see the great Cursed King turn into a puddle in front of everyone. Especially because he loves me.”

“You’re cruel, babe." he grumbled, but there was a small, fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Can't believe I've loved you since we were in junior high."

You winked at him, smile on your lips growing wider. "And for forever too! You'll have to deal with it."

By the time you got back to Sukuna’s place, you immediately made the move to cook while he got into the shower. Soon enough, the air was thick with the scent of miso broth bubbling on the stove.

You’d planned this hotpot night earlier, since he was supposed to have gone home much earlier. But after the chaos at the gym and his long grueling practice, you just felt like it was even more well-earned.

Sukuna, finally emerging from the bedroom, rolled up his sleeves and helped you set the table, his mood softening with each step of the ritual as you hummed along the song playing on the radio.

“You got everything, babe?” he asked, peering over your shoulder as you arranged plates of thinly sliced meat, tofu, and an assortment of vegetables.

“Yup.” you replied, popping a piece of bok choy into your mouth. “And don’t even think about hogging all the meat this time.”

“Me? Hog it?” He snorted, grabbing the chopsticks and pointing them at you in mock accusation. “You’re the one who fishes out all the good stuff when I’m not looking.”

“That’s called strategy, my love.” you said, grinning as you threw his words from earlier back at him.

Sukuna groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “Not you too…”

You waved your chopsticks at him. "Well, I say it more lovingly. You like it like that, you know!"

He grumbles under his breath, red appearing on his cheek. "You're lucky I love you like that."

"Hm, that's why I'm shameless!"

But any complaints were quickly forgotten as the two of you settled down around the simmering hotpot. The warmth of the broth, the crackling of the stove, and the quiet clink of chopsticks filled the room. Sukuna started to relax, his earlier frustrations melting away as he watched you happily dunk mushrooms and noodles into the pot.

“Okay, babe.” he said suddenly, breaking the silence. “I’ve decided.”

You raised an eyebrow, chewing on a piece of tofu. “Decided what?”

“Next time Gojo calls me ‘my love’ in front of everyone, instead of just you, it’s on sight,” Sukuna said, leaning forward with a wicked grin that promised destruction.

He jabbed his chopsticks into a slice of tofu like it was Gojo’s face. “I’m spiking a volleyball straight at his stupid face.”

You burst out laughing, nearly choking on the piece of fish cake you’d been chewing. “Good luck with that. He’ll just dodge it and make fun of you even more. You know how he is—Gojo thrives on chaos. The man’s immune to consequences.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes, stabbing another piece of tofu with unnecessary aggression. “Then I’ll spike two balls. One after the other. And if that doesn’t work…”

You looked at him curiously, mirth in your eyes. "What will you do?"

He paused, his brow furrowing in mock concentration. “I’ll add laps. So many laps. He’ll be running until graduation.”

You snorted, wiping a tear from your eye. “Right, because Gojo would totally listen to your orders. He’d just turn it into a race and leave everyone else in the dust.”

Sukuna grumbled under his breath, his scowl deepening—but the corners of his mouth twitched, betraying his amusement. “Fine. If volleyball and laps don’t work, I’ll come up with something else. Something evil.”

“Evil?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “What, like stealing his Bottega Veneta sunglasses?”

“Too easy. He’s got like fifty pairs, babe.” Sukuna muttered, resting his chin on his hand as he considered his options. “Maybe I’ll prank him during practice. Replace his water with vinegar. Or set his alarms an hour early every day.”

"I forgot he makes his password too easy for people to guess." You murmured, drinking from your cup. You sigh. "Well, I suppose that would work."

"Right? Fool-proof!"

You tilted your head, feigning thoughtfulness. “Hmm, as solid as that is, what if he gets revenge? Gojo’s the type to double down, you would know best."

He hummed. "I'm way better at being stubborn than he is."

"I know that. But he might start serenading you in the middle of practice. Like, full-on ‘My Love’ with a guitar and everything on campus like it's 10 Things I Hate About You."

Sukuna froze, chopsticks halfway to his mouth. “He wouldn’t.”

“Oh, he absolutely would.” you said, grinning. “And you’d never live it down. The Cursed King getting serenaded in front of the entire team? In front of the whole university? They’d be talking about it for years.”

He groaned, dropping his chopsticks and leaning back against the chair like he’d just been defeated in battle. “Why do I even put up with him? Or any of you, for that matter.”

“Because deep down, you love us.” you said, smiling sweetly as you plopped another piece of meat into the hotpot. “Even Gojo.”

“I do not love Gojo,” Sukuna snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Sure, sure, my love!” you teased, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “But admit it—you’d miss him if he wasn’t around to drive you insane.”

Sukuna gave you a flat look, but the twitch of his lips betrayed him again. “I’d miss you more.” he said gruffly, his voice dropping just enough to make your heart skip.

“Aww, my love.” you cooed, leaning closer to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Don’t worry, you’re stuck with me.”

“Good to know, babe.” he said, turning back to the hotpot with a satisfied grunt. “At least you don’t call me my love in front of the team like that.”

You smirked, swirling your chopsticks through the broth. “Not yet, anyway.”

Sukuna froze mid-bite, glaring at you with wide eyes. “Don’t you dare.”

“No promises!” you said with a mischievous grin, earning a groan from him that was half exasperation, half affection.

"You're such a menace."

"Well, that's how you know I love you, my love!" You grinned, moving forward to steal his tonkatsu.

"Babe!" He groans, as he watches you eat the tonkatsu happily.

"I love you!"

Sukuna sighs, his eyes softening, watching you happily eat. "I love you too......"

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kaleidoscopeminds · 3 days ago

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𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

#luke hemmings #*#lrhedit #5sosedit #5sos #luke #doing calum's set made me go back to review otr <3 #can i be parasocial in my tumblr tags on a saturday night #i don't always love posting yb luke gifs even though i make them quite often and enjoy doing so #because the tags get filled with people saying yb supremacy!!! and the best he's ever looked!! and youngblood luke best luke!! etc.#and i know its not that serious #but it makes me sad because he's grown so much since then in every way as a person a musician everything #and he's soooo much happier than he ever was at this time #i feel its so reductive to have this perspective without considering what you really mean by it #and i don't love reading it #this can be applied to the whole band also #i have strong feelings about the youngblood effect so to speak and how it follows them no matter what they do #also if it looks janky by his shoulder its because i had to manually remove the godforsaken apple music watermark ok thanks

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revelboo · 1 day ago

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I just wanted to tell you that I really love reading your writing. It’s really amazing. I’m always in awe of how quickly you write for SO MANY DIFFERENT CHARACTERS! AND YOU MAKE THEM ALL SO UNIQUE!!! It’s so cool, and I really love how you describe things too. I wasn’t really a Transformers fan before I found your blog, but you have completely converted me. I think “Everything Is Alright” was the first thing I read of yours, and I am just so invested in the Megatron Trojan Horse Pregnancy Arc. You’re brilliant, I hope that you have a wonderful day, and that you’re always happy, healthy, and loved.

Awww! Thank you so much! 💕 I’m just glad you guys like the weird way my brain works

Everything Is Alright Pt 120

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Giving up and laying your head against Star’s hand, the anger is a hollow pit inside you. And you’re not sure you can do this anymore. That you want to do this. Part of you just wants to go home. To pretend this whole mess away like a bad dream. You love Star and Soundwave. Are beginning to like Megatron even if he’s awful sometimes. But you’re just so tired of all of it. “I wish you hadn’t come back,” you whisper hating yourself for saying it and Star’s servos flex around you. Wishing that he’d just let you go that night. Hadn’t returned to your house and slept outside for you to find him. You’d have gotten over him, moved on. Eventually.

• Spark constricting, Starscream mass shifts and gathers you to him. Doesn’t care that he’s vulnerable right now, that his worst enemy is right there, staring at him. Doesn’t care about anything beyond fixing this. Because those bitter, hurt words lay him open, wound him deeper than Megatron ever has. “Everything I do has been for you,” he says, catching your chin and tipping it up. Lying like he always does and despising himself for it. “I can, I will, do better.” Even if he’s not entirely sure that he can. Maybe he’s too broken to change at this point, too far gone to trust anyone. Even you, but he can’t let you go either. As horrible as he is, you love him. And he wants to be worthy of that. Hoping that he’s not already damaged that love too much to repair.

• Hearing your broken ‘I can’t do this anymore,’ Soundwave can’t stop himself from reaching to press a servo against your spine. From mass shifting and settling at your back so you’re pinned between him and the Seeker. Feeling the warmth of you, the too quick beat of your heart. Knows Starscream is lying to you, trying to coax your forgiveness and he can feel your hurt. How had he not realized how unhappy you really were? Knows he’d been too focused on the Seeker, on protecting secrets and trying to arrange the pieces on the board so you’ll be safest, but not really paying enough attention to you. And he’s still horrified at how short your lifespan is. But he’ll figure this out. “Little one,” he croons, rubbing his masked face against you.

• Primus, what a mess. Watching both mechs whisper and murmur reassurances to you, he feels like an outsider. Like this is something not meant for him. Even if he’s fully bonded to you and carrying yours and Starscream’s sparkling, something that still leaves him irrationally furious. And you’re crying again, shoving at Starscream when he bumps his helm against your cheek. Watches you smack him, little fists lashing out as the Seeker just allows it and refuses to let go until you press your face against his neck. Everything so complicated because of you. Their mess spilling over to become his mess, but he can’t despise you for taking what he’d offered freely never imagining you’d accept. And that’s starting to really sink in. That you’re his now. His to protect and care for, that he’s fully bonded, mated. Something he’d never dared even imagine was possible.

• Neither of them will let go, both just holding on to you. Refusing to give you space. Holding on as the anger fizzles out into exhaustion. Wanting to hurt them because you’re hurting and it’s their fault. And it’s your fault, too. You know that all too well. Wanting things that you shouldn’t have. Not resisting when Starscream just tucks your head under his chin, Soundwave’s head on your shoulder. Caged by them, feeling their servos on you, clinging too tight. Looking up, you see Megatron just staring at you, his expression utterly blank. Maybe. Maybe you can all just start over? Maybe it’s not all so ruined there’s no way to fix it.

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #megatron x reader #soundwave x reader #starscream #soundwave #megatron

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stargirlove15 · 2 days ago

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H's so Precious ! 😭🙌💛💛💛💛

I also want to say I love your art and your art inspired me to make art too and be creative about it. I am working to become a graphic designer and it has opened me with an idea to make art by promoting. However these types of things are hard when you don't have the right materials to do and knowledge because I still have a lot to learn to become an artist and be good at math because when it comes to math I fail at it. I sometimes have fear of being embarrassed which is another reason. Back in middle school remembered I used to love doing math and I loved learning about it.

Then I felt embarrassed because I was the girl who was the smartest of the class that I didn't feel like it was right to be smart or be this way because of my friends and I was given a lot of stares from them. I am also the girl to be given more work after I am done with homework lol

So yeah that is part of the reason why I love Tails because he was the smartest boy and I was the smartest girl of all my classmates and who we both are trying to reach to become better and stronger and never give up no matter how much life gets hard. Which ( I am almost done with this post so hurt bear with me for a little more, and yes I like to talk a lot which doesn't happen to often :)

but let me share with you my quick story for today. Today was my mom's birthday and on her very day she began feeling sick and then I was feeling sick since yesterday and I remember that I wanted to make mom some breakfast on her B-Day. but I felt my body weak and sore that I couldn't move but since I had the plan in mind, I had to force myself to do it even if I was sick. I had to look after my grandpa because my dad was working with my Brother and I had to clean the kitchen and make sure the food doesn't go to waste. Even if I was sick or didn't feel good, I know that I had to be one to look after the house, I also wanted to make a present that I bought last week ago. Luckily I saved enough money to buy her something that I made. 💛

Being a girl is hard sometimes and I am dealing with a lot that is going on and about becoming an adult with many responsibilities that I can't keep up with. There's a lot I am still learning and I hate that I am 21 years old and I haven't begun driving yet. 🙃

Either way I love my life and I can't wait to see where this life takes me, he'll live long to see the Tails series that I' ve been asking from the start. 💛

Thanks for reading this and remember if you have a dream or goal you have to fight for it to be the person you want to be !🔥🔥🔥

Also before I am done let me share your message that I had written on my mom's card.

" You are beautiful even as a worm , as we grow old and as time goes by, we eventually become a butterfly that earns it's wings to fly. "🦋

" So Happy Birthday to a Beautiful Butterfly ! "

smallest thing you ever did see

#baby tails #message for you #My life as a girl #also the Tails series rumor that was brought up by Tails voice actress is TRENDING RIGHT NOW ALL OVER THE MEDIA #!!!

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red-doll-face · 3 days ago

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

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

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

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

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

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

-marks it on his map with a heart

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

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

-awww once you say yes??

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

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

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

Arthur wants things to be perfect for you.

(High honor) Arthur Morgan x fem. Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I been-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I remember just fine,” he grunts,

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

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

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

“I-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’d they say?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What surprise?”

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

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

“I will, promise,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So… have you popped the question?”

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

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

“And what if she says no?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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redwingstan · 3 days ago

Note

"you know what we are. you just want to hear me say it." with bucky please!

debts paid - bucky x reader insert

author's note; thanks for your request, anon! hope you like it! (I may make a part 2 with this one!)

"So, what are we?"

Bucky grunted, a response you got when he didn't know what to say, or when he was just playfully annoyed. This time you couldn't tell which one it was.

"What happened to not asking questions?" He said as his back remained to you. He was hunched over the balcony, looking below at the bustling streets filled with people heading to their destinations.

"The same thing that happened to no secrets," you mumbled, shoulders dropping as if the miniscule book you held in your hands weighed a ton.

There was a rule you both had agree upon back in the day—a two for one special that kept your relationship—friendship, whatever—thriving: If you were both honest from the jump, there was no need to ask questions, no need to harbor secrets.

Looks like you both were breaking the rules tonight.

Bucky did a double-take as you stood next to him and nudged the little black book against his bicep. It took him a second or two to realize what it was. When he did, he took it before as if you hadn't already read the contents inside.

You sighed and looked straight ahead at the skyline. "I don't know whether to be relieved that you didn't forget about me," You sighed. "...or offended that I'm the last person on that list."

Granted, you didn't even bother skimming the list hard enough to recognize any of the names. You didn't even know what the list meant. You only managed to see your name—your first initial and last name scrawled at the very bottom— and that was enough for you to confront him about it.

Gently, he settled his hand on yours as he shoved the book into his back pocket.

"You weren't supposed to find this—"

"To be fair, I didn't have to go looking for it. You don't have much furniture."

Bucky's apartment was desolate save for a tv, and whatever bundle lay in the corner of what was supposed to be the living room. No furniture, not even a coffee table was in sight. The book happened to be laying on his makeshift bed made of disheveled blanket and jacket.

Bucky sighed as you pulled your hand away from his. You turned to head inside, but he made another quick attempt at your wrist. This time with a more firm grip. You spun around, though made no effort to close the space between both of you. Bucky took it upon himself to step forward, his grip on your wrist transferring to your hand. His thumb ran over the back of it in remorse.

"Okay," he said with a heavy sigh, eyes softening as he looked down at you. "I'm sorry. I know I should've been more honest. I know I should've found you sooner." He lifted your hand and gave it a soft kiss before lowering it. "Forgive me? Please."

"Under one condition," you said, appearing unphased on the outside in regards to his gesture of affection. He knew it was one of the things that worked to settle your nerves.

He lifted a brow in curiosity before lowering your hands, though he didn't let go of them.

"I get to ask three questions," you stated, chin lifted in defiance.

"One," he argued.

"Two," you countered, taking a step forward with a subtle grin on your lips.

Bucky's brows furrowed. "One."

You narrowed your eyes in defeat. "Then my question still stands." Your eyes traced his tired face. He looked beaten, like he had gone more than hundred rounds with the world. The bags under his eyes indicated a lack of sleep. The rough stubble crawling across his jaw made him look more rugged. His hair was cut short—a stark contrast to the longer dark locks you were used to. Six years had certainly done a number on him.

With a sigh of your own, you gave his hand a squeeze. "What are we, Bucky?"

He groaned in internally, though it wasn't out of annoyance, you knew. He wasn't the best at talking about his feelings, but you never held that against him. At least after years of not seeing him on account of The Blip and a year after, you believed you were owed an explanation to this question. A question you had been holding on your tongue since the moment he told you he might not be coming back.

His gloved thumbs traced your hands as he gently tugged you towards his chest. "You know what we are. You just want to hear me say it," he said.

You grinned. "I do," you said tilting your chin upwards with a lifted brow.

With dark eyes, the infamous Winter Soldier stroked your cheek. He placed a kiss on your temple.

"I can't be the only one to say what we are," he sighed, "but I know that you're one of the only people I can trust, and losing you again would be another devastation I wouldn't be able to bear." He stroked your cheek gently, eyes looking everywhere but at you. Your fingertips migrated over his stubble and guided his eyes back to your face. The Winter Soldier gave you a look of surprise before his lips settled into a subtle smile.

He kissed your temple once more.

"Does that answer your question, doll?"

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vettelsvee · 2 days ago

Note

Hello! I hope this is the correct way to request..., can you write a lewis story for prompt 28? It can be something like, reader is a new wag and there is some online hate, and lewis comforts them. It's completely fine if you don't wanna do this story, Thank you!! 💞

DON'T LET THEM SAY THAT. YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL | Lewis Hamilton

Lewis Hamilton x Actress!Reader

SUMMARY: Lewis and you decided to make your relationship public in Maranello before 2025 Formula 1 season starts. However, love from fans isn't there as you expected ↳ REQUESTED: Part of VEE'S F1 PROMPTS LIST (VOL. I)! Feel free to request anything you want <3 Hope you liked it anon! 💖

WORD COUNT: 2043

WARNINGS: Age gap (reader is on her early 20s and Lewis is 40), fans acting like crazy, hate towards Y/N

VEE'S NOTES: I received this prompt on the inbox today and I don't know how I wrote, corrected, translated and corrected once again it today. Also, first ever Ferrari!Lewis fic I'm so emotional right now. Not really happy with the result since like Y/N in this fic, I have many intrusive thoughts about my writing and I didn't have the best of the weekends, but hope you enjoy it anyways! Remember that I appreciate your comments, feedback, as well as reblogs, thank you so much! :)

The whirlwind of emotions you’ve experienced since your relationship with Lewis Hamilton became public has been unimaginable... and that’s putting it lightly.

Although you were somewhat used to the spotlight thanks to your rising career as an actress, flashes from cameras, crowds shouting for you to turn around so they could get a picture, and the occasional fan asking for a photo or autograph, the world of Formula 1 was completely new to you.

You couldn’t deny that you were unhappy with how drastically your life had changed. The man who had just joined Scuderia Ferrari had become everything you had ever imagined in a partner. kind, undeniably caring, and, most importantly, empathetic enough to understand how overwhelming this sudden rise in fame was for you.

Lewis had noticed how down you’d been ever since he decided to post those photos of you both in Maranello. You had both agreed to go together so he could test one of those legendary red cars for the first time, fully aware that people would inevitably start talking. That day, you decided to make your relationship public after keeping it a secret for about six months, agreeing that it was best to do so before the 2025 season began.

Despite it all, despite how much you had started closing yourself off in the following weeks, Lewis remained by your side, making you feel like the most important person in the world. But it was becoming increasingly difficult for him, especially when all you did was act like everything was fine on the outside while you were slowly destroying yourself inside.

The nightmare began with small comments on the photo Lewis had uploaded to Instagram, just you, posing timidly in front of the Ferrari while he held you around the waist, smiling like never before. At first, the comments didn’t seem like a big deal, with people just wanting to know more about your relationship or if it was serious. But soon, the messages started pouring in, insults and threats far worse than you had ever imagined, many of them coming from underage girls. Eventually, you had to disable comments on every single one of your photos, no matter how old they were.

However, what truly became a living nightmare for you were the Twitter threads and, especially, the accounts dedicated exclusively to Formula 1 wags. They were relentless, tearing you apart, analyzing your every move as if dating one of the 20 drivers on the grid was equivalent to committing first-degree murder.

“She’s just looking for fame now that her acting career is taking off.”

“She doesn’t deserve someone like Lewis.”

“She’s too young for him.”

“And let’s not even talk about how ugly she is… have you seen her?”

You sighed, throwing your phone onto the couch with such force that it ended up crashing onto the floor. But you didn’t even bother to check if it was broken. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t read any more comments, wouldn’t even open your Instagram account, yet you couldn’t resist. After all, you were human, and the weight of it all was becoming too much to bear, even more than you were willing to admit to Lewis, to whom you hadn’t fully opened up yet.

The hotel room in Tokyo, where you and Lewis had decided to stay for one of your last vacations before the season began, fell into complete silence. The only sound that filled the space was your muffled sobs.

“And who even is she? Nobody knows her.”

“Lewis deserves someone better, that’s for sure.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks faster than you could wipe them away.

You couldn’t understand it. It felt so unfair... Why were you being treated this way just for loving someone? Why did people throw venomous words at you without even knowing you, without even trying to? Did being a fan of Lewis automatically mean they had to hate you?

You tried to relax, to break free from the spiral of thoughts that only led you to overthink, but it was impossible. Once your mind started down that path, the only thing it knew how to do was tear you apart from the inside.

As you tried to steady your breathing and quickly wiped away your tears, a knock echoed at the door.

You pulled yourself together as fast as you could, forcing a smile while glancing at your reflection in the mirror. You swore to yourself that you’d do everything possible to pretend that everything was fine, that you were fine.

But the moment you opened the door and saw Lewis, drenched in sweat from his gym session and pulling out his earbuds, you immediately turned around and rushed into the nearest room, the bathroom, locking yourself inside to keep him from seeing you like this.

“Come on, Y/N...”

Lewis knew you too well by now. No matter how hard you tried to convince him otherwise, he could see right through you, he knew you were struggling, and struggling pretty badly.

He didn’t do anything at first. He didn’t know what to do. He was afraid that whatever he said or did might only make things worse, might make you shut down even more. Instead, he rested his forehead against the closed door, feeling defeated, thinking of ways to make you feel worthy enough to stop torturing yourself over what strangers were saying online, people who knew nothing about your relationship and even less about you.

Eventually, you decided to come out. Lewis saw you, completely defeated, and he cursed himself for letting things get to this point. What had he done wrong to make you feel this way? God, you were just a girl in your early twenties who had recently made the leap to Hollywood stardom after moving to Los Angeles at sixteen, waiting tables in a run-down bar, and facing countless failed auditions until you finally landed the role that changed everything.

“Hey, love,” Lewis spoke as gently as possible, his eyes scanning your red-rimmed ones and your tangled hair. “What’s wrong?”

He knew exactly what was wrong, but he wanted you to be the one to speak, to let it all out.

You took a deep breath and pointed at your phone, still lying on the floor. A nervous knot tightened in your stomach, and your hands began to fidget anxiously. As if on cue, tears started streaming down your face once more.

“I just… I don’t understand why they have to be like this. What did I do to deserve this? Am I not good enough? Not pretty enough for you?”

Lewis sighed. He had known from the beginning that not everyone would accept your relationship, but the amount of hate you were facing was beyond excessive. He was exhausted by the senseless comments and social media accounts created solely to spew hate at you. And even more, he was tired of becoming tabloid fodder, followed everywhere by paparazzi eager to capture any moment they could.

Seeing you like this hurt him in ways he couldn’t even describe, and it made him feel miserable.

“Hey, Y/N… look at me.”

Despite speaking to you firmly and holding your hand, gently rubbing your skin with his thumb to calm you down, you didn’t respond. Lewis then cupped your chin delicately, forcing you to look at him.

“I know I’ve told you this a thousand times, and I also know that with how stubborn you are, you probably won’t listen to me, but don’t let what they say about you bother you,” he wanted to say, but all he really cared about was you. “What matters is that I love you, okay?”

“But... why does it have to affect me? Why did I used to not care about anything, and now I care so much about the opinion of strangers?” you asked, hesitantly, biting your lip in an attempt to relax.

Lewis moved even closer to you, wrapping his arms around you. He hated seeing you like this, especially when before all of this started, you were a light in his life, and it was him who used to lean on you when race weekends got overwhelming.

“Because you’re human, babe,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead and holding you tighter. “Even though we sometimes say the opposite, we all care about what others think of us, especially when all they want to do is bring us down.”

“But... what if they’re right? What if I’m not what you deserve?”

“Do I need to remind you again that they’re wrong?” Lewis said, pulling you slightly away so your gazes met. “You need to remember how much you mean to me, but more than that, you need to remember who you are and all that you’re worth. That’s all that matters.”

You didn’t say anything else. Instead, you buried your face in his chest, once again crying quietly to avoid him seeing you like this.

“I’m ugly, Lew. Really ugly,” you confessed without lifting your head. “I don’t even know how you love me, or how you agreed to be with me after all those months we spent talking and hanging out as friends, or…”

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t let them say that. You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful, and you’ve always been, alright? Anyone who says otherwise needs to get their eyes checked.”

You laughed, and Lewis felt that as a small victory.

You closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. For the first time in a long while, you pushed aside the intrusive thoughts, the destructive comments you saw daily on social media, and allowed yourself the luxury of, for just a moment, trying to stop torturing yourself and accepting that there were things you couldn’t change.

Lewis’s words, while brief and somewhat familiar to you, brought a peace you hadn’t felt in days. You did your best to let the tension in your shoulders melt away, slowly separating from him and moving your arms bit by bit.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Lew,” you whispered, once again wrapping your arms around his waist, wishing you could never let go of him.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Lewis chuckled, planting kisses on your forehead. “I’m never going to leave you, and I hope you’ll never leave me either.”

Neither of you said anything more. Your bodies remained close, exchanging shy kisses, making promises that everything would get better as you both talked about the changes you’d face in 2025. That was enough for you both to know things were going to be okay.

You both understood that the big, risky changes you were taking, especially your relationship, were going to be difficult, just like what was happening with you and the wave of hate you were receiving. But once you stopped giving it too much importance, or rather, no importance at all, no one would stop you as the newest couple in Formula 1.

“Hey, listen to me, please... I’ve been thinking about something.”

Lewis’s words caught your attention as you were starting to drift off to sleep in bed. You straightened up, your hand still intertwined with his.

“How about we take a walk, and you can get to know the city a bit?” he suggested. “You know… we could go eat out, hit up an arcade, or maybe…”

“Can you get me a stuffed animal from one of those weird claw machines?!” you interrupted him, excited, which made Lewis burst out laughing.

“Of course, I can get you a stuffed animal, or buy you all the ones you want.”

You smiled, and as Lewis went to the bathroom for a shower, you began to prepare for the day. That moment was exactly when you realized you needed to trust yourself more and, specially, just as Lewis valued you. Because if there was one thing you’d learned from him in the short time you’d been together, it was that, no matter what you did, you’d always be the envy of others, so you just needed to remind yourself that you didn’t need to feel worse for living the life you’d always dreamed of and, moreover, you worked hard to have.

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itsnesss · 2 days ago

Note

Please could you do something with Junho meeting readers ex-boyfriend?? 💌

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐱 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | fluff, tension

word count | 0.8 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

You’re standing in front of the window of a small bookstore on a quiet street in the center. The rain falls gently, creating a peaceful echo that contrasts with the swirling thoughts in your head. Junho is beside you, holding an umbrella over both of you, though you’ve noticed that he’s more exposed to the rain than you. He always puts others first, especially you.

“Are you going to go in, or just keep looking?” he asks with a small smile.

You turn to look at him and notice the playful gleam in his eyes. Junho has this ability to make you feel light, as if problems don’t exist for a moment.

“I was thinking about it. But I don’t want to wet the books,” you joke.

“You could soak all the books and they wouldn’t stop loving you,” he replies without thinking, and although he tries to act casual, you can see the color rise in his face.

Before you can respond, a sound behind you catches your attention. Turning around, you feel a twist in your stomach. It’s someone you didn’t expect to see, someone who represents a part of your past that you left behind.

There he is, your ex, standing a few feet away. He wears a black coat that barely hides his imposing presence, and his eyes seem to find yours immediately. The smile you once found comforting now feels unsettling.

Junho follows your gaze and, with just one look, understands.

“Do you know him?” he asks softly, without taking his eyes off the man who’s approaching.

“Yes,” you reply almost in a whisper. “He’s… someone I’d rather not see.”

But it’s too late to avoid it. Your ex is already standing in front of you, with that confidence he’s always had. His eyes shift from you to Junho, quickly evaluating him.

“Wow, I never thought I’d run into you here,” he says, addressing you as if Junho isn’t present.

“I’m fine,” you reply coldly, trying to keep your composure.

“And who’s this?” he asks, nodding toward Junho.

Junho steps forward, subtly positioning himself between the two of you.

“I’m Junho,” he says firmly, extending a hand that your ex takes with some reluctance.

The handshake lasts longer than necessary, and you can feel the tension between them. Your ex has always been territorial, even when he no longer had the right to be.

“I see,” he says finally, releasing Junho’s hand. “So now you have company.”

The insinuation in his tone irritates you, but before you can say anything, Junho speaks.

“She doesn’t need company. She knows how to take care of herself.”

Your ex lets out a low, almost mocking laugh.

“I know that. But it’s not bad to have someone looking out for her. Right?”

You shudder hearing your name come from his mouth, but you maintain your calm.

“I don’t know what you want, but I have nothing to say to you,” you say, trying to end the conversation.

He raises his hands as if surrendering.

“Relax. I just wanted to say hello. Looks like things are going well for you. That’s good.”

You know it’s not sincere. His tone, his posture, everything about him screams that he’s testing the waters.

“Thanks. You can leave now,” you reply firmly.

For a moment, it seems like he’s going to insist, but then his eyes shift toward Junho, and something in his gaze changes.

“We’ll see each other soon, I’m sure,” he says finally, and without waiting for a response, he walks away, disappearing into the crowd.

Junho remains silent, watching his figure until it fades. Then he looks at you, with a slightly furrowed brow.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine,” you respond, though you’re not entirely sure it’s true.

“Do you want to talk about him?” he asks cautiously.

“There’s not much to say. He’s someone from my past, someone I don’t want in my present,” you admit, feeling a mix of relief and exhaustion.

Junho nods, giving you the space you need. He’s always been like this, never pushing you, but his steady presence is enough to make you feel safe.

“I won’t let him bother you again,” he says suddenly, with a firmness you didn’t expect.

You look at him, surprised, but on his face, you only see determination. Junho isn’t someone who looks for conflict, but when it comes to protecting you, he seems willing to do whatever it takes.

“Thank you,” you whisper, feeling the tension in your body start to dissipate.

“Always,” he responds, and this time the smile he gives you manages to make you let out a small laugh.

#jun ho squid game #squid game #squid game x reader #hwang jun ho x reader #hwang junho #hwang jun ho #jun ho x reader

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colorlessjay · 15 hours ago

Note

Oh my Jack, I’m obsessed with your BTTF AU.

I know it might not quite fit into your AU but I’ve been giggling to myself about the potential hilarious misunderstandings. My fav being s6 Dean attempts to put together all the little clues Cas has dropped about his husband but like comically wrong (plugged-all-the-numbers-into-the-right-formula-and-somehow-got-the-wrong-answer wrong)

Dean in the guest bedroom with sticky notes and red string: ok so he wears flannels and he has an Impala that looks suspiciously like baby and cas mentioned he had hair longer than mine and that he was a hunter and Sam and I knew him and they were friends for a while before anything romantic happened, and I’m clearly not hanging out with cas as much …

Dean (having a panic attack): son of a bitch I know who cas is married to!

Dean (mopey and despondent and slightly horrified the next day and definitely not with puffy eyes): Cas, I, I have to know, your husband, it’s not *gulp*

Cas (visibly worried he’s given too much away and s6 dean is still so repressed that the bi realization is throwing him into despair)

Dean whispering (trying not to vomit): Sam?

Cas (too stunned to hold back his reaction): *hysterical laughter* oh, no, dean! I’m not married to sam.

Dean (nearly passing out from relief): thank god!

Cas (under his breath): this is why my dean asked me to love him anyways when his past self asked an incredibly stupid question

Honestly I fucking love that so much, I think I have a way to shoe horn that into the AU

kinda like this:

It's been two days

It's been two days stuck in the future, and Dean feels frustration bubbling up in him as his brain tries to puzzle piece everything together

It doesn't help that Cas won't tell him shit

Best friend my ass!

Okay, maybe he's being a bit of an asshole saying that. Cas- This Cas has been nothing but a great host. He always has food in the fridge, he has extra clothes he lets Dean borrow, he doesn't get all up in Dean's personal space like his Castiel does

But at the same time, Cas keeps giving him these looks, like he knows something Dean doesn't

which sure, yeah, he knows a whole hell of a lotta things. It's the future. But Cas us smug about it. At least it feels like he's smug about it. It doesn't help that Cas is out of his holy tax accountant get up and dresses like a regular John. Least his taste in band shirts has improved thanks to his husband

Husband

yeah, that still causes a record scratch in Dean's brain every time he thinks about it

And he's got no problems with it! Love is love and all that. Who Cas wants to take home and put a ring on is his own business. It's not like Cas is a guy, he's an angel. A beam of holy light or whatever. So technically, he's not gay (Not that Dean would have a problem with that!). But it does make his husband some kind of monsterfucker

which is also totally fine. Cas is a catch. Good for both of them

So why doesn't Cas say who his husband is?

Is he scared Dean would judge him? Well fuck him for that! Dean's not a homophobe! And Cas is his best friend! He'd be supportive of him and his monsterfucker husband! Rainbow streamers with Cthulhu and all!

Unless Cas is more worried about Dean's reaction to who he's married to...

which is dumb. From what little Cas told him about Mr. Mystery (Cas refuses to tell him his last name), he wears a shit ton of plaid flannels, he cooks a lot with Cas, likes to read (a guess he got from the 'shared library' Cas showed him), is pretty handy around the house, has long stupid hair and loves his dog Miracle...

Holy shit

Dean was on his feet before he even knew what he was doing. He practically kicks down the guest room door and runs around the house looking for that damn Angel/half angel/not angel

He finds Cas in the backyard with Miracle, playing fetch on the wide stretch of land he owns

Cas looks all too comfortable in his loose, light washed jeans and Metallica shirt, his hair wind swept, probably from running around with Miracle while Dean took a nap.

Cas spots Dean approaching and waves at him with a smile, only to drop both as he sees Dean's determined march

Dean can't blame him. He has no idea what he looks like right not but he knows what he feels

like he's gonna explode

"Dean-" Cas starts but never gets to finish as Dean grabs the future version of his best friend by his shoulders and holds him still, grounding himself as he speaks

"Did you marry Sam?"

The question hung in the nice summer air for around two, three beats. Miracle even pausing where she sat with a stick in her mouth, her little head tilted to the side

Cas' usual stoic face breaks into surprise and Dean holds his breath

Only for Cas, Angel of the Lord, to burst out into an explosive laughter that rocks Dean's entire being

Suddenly Dean has no idea how to react, because Cas is... he's got the biggest, gummiest, most hysterical laugh he's ever seen. It completely transforms his face that Dean is questioning if he's still taking nap, and this was all just some weird dream where he thinks Cas is almost...

cute

Get it together, Winchester!

By the time Dean shakes away his shock, Cas is already on the ground, on his back, clutching his sides as he laughs into the sky like Dean just told the joke of the century

"Hey!" Dean snaps, his face feeling warm for reasons he doesn't have time to think about. "Answer the damn question!"

"No! Hahaha!" Cas says in between laughs, Miracle coming to his side to paw and bark at her owner

"Why the fuck not???"

"No I mean-" Cas takes a deep breath and wheezes, coughing into his fist as he tries to get himself together

Dean grumbles impatiently, popping a squat just to poke at Cas' arm to get him to answer

Eventually Cas' laughter does die down and Dean finds himself staring at just the biggest, smuggest grin he's ever seen on Cas

"I mean no, I did not marry Sam. And I believe he his reaction to you saying that would be much funnier than you asking me" Cas, for the love of God, giggles.

And it shouldn't be cute. Cas is an old man and he's giggling and Dean shouldn't feel... whatever the fuck it is he's feeling right now that's not frustration

But oddly enough he's not frustrated at all

he's relived

Is it because Sam's not gay or because Cas didn't go barking up his brother?

Why does that matter? It shouldn't. Stop thinking about it

"Dean" Cas starts, his laughing having died off and his smile softer as he stares up at Dean "Why do you ask?"

There's... there's a tone to Cas' question that Dean doesn't like. So, he does the one thing he's good at

He pushes himself up and shakes back into himself

"Well you weren't telling me jack, so I thought I'd throw in wild guesses and hope I predict something" A cool lie slip out but even he can tell Cas doesn't buy it

Damn it. Those eyes always seemed to see through him

Cas doesn't call him on his bullshit, but he knows. Dean knows he knows and it bothers him further

"Yes well. Perhaps if you keep guessing, the truth will come out eventually"

"yeah... eventually"

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

Anyways. Drabble done. Doot doot

#destiel #castiel #dean winchester #deancas #dean x castiel #spn #destielbttfau

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flowery-mess · 2 days ago

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I wanted to give this story a proper 'goodbye', so here we go

I was not expecting the end as I was on my little break, so when I saw 'end' my heart broke. I'm not even gonna miss tbaf Noah to be honest, but I'm gonna miss my little miss Luna so much🥺 she's the cutest girl ever in my head, I can't wait for more additional tbaf stuff with her in it♥️

Also, I remember when you posted something about writing a smut and how you're not sure if you want to write it (or something like that I don't remember exactly) so I just want to say you did a great job with it, it was intimate and well written!

I love your gentle style of writing so your dad Noah is one of the best on here, I could picture everything you wrote in details, making '🥹' face probably 15x times while reading every chapter.

I also love that they got the dog I once talked about! Even tho the new character at that time was Rick, Kaneki is much better😂♥️

My favorite moments were when Luna draw her uncles as trees and when they made matching bracelets for the three of them. Also Noah letting Luna do all the girl things to him, my heart!

Thank you for this amazing series where the reader wasn't the biological mum, as someone who probably doesn't want to have kids of my own, but I'm very open to talk about adoption or partner with a kid, this was soo comfortable for me to read!

Thank you♥️

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 - 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Series summary: When Noah was left alone to take care of his daughter about two years ago, he never thought he would find someone else he would trust enough to include in his little family. But things can change.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8

Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12

Chapter 13 / Chapter 14 / Chapter 15 / Chaper 16 (end)

moodboard / moodboard 2 / moodboard 3 / pics / jason / rick

Additional one shots and drabbles:

"Crowded" mornings

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian #bad omens #tbaf #to build a family

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cei1ne · 3 days ago

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—You suffer from anemia yet your boyfriends as supportive as ever, just in his own way

დ .•*”Summary: You suffer from anemia but you don’t let it stop you from becoming a hero, yet, your boyfriend’s a stubborn mess and forced you to rest.

༺ღ༒Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x GN!Anemic!Reader

☆࿐ཽ༵Tags: High school; Relationship; UA; GN!Reader

＊*•̩̩͙Warnings: Cursing?; Anemia; Overprotective boyfriend

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Word count: 3.8k

‧͙⁺˚*･A/N: Someone requested this but it was anonymous and my tumblr was bugging lately! It just got deleted but I still had lots of fun writing this and I hope you’ll have just as much fun reading this! And I didn’t know if they meant headcanons or Scenario so I just did both!

Headcanons: Katsuki Bakugou x GN!Anemic!Reader

1. Worry Masked by Irritation: Bakugou would constantly mask his concern for your condition by pretending to be annoyed. He’d grumble about you being “too weak” but would secretly go above and beyond to ensure you’re healthy.

2. Diet Control Freak: He’d take control of your meals, researching iron-rich foods and sneaking them into your diet. If you tried to resist, he’d shove a plate at you with a snarky remark like, “Eat this before I lose it.”

3. Hyper Awareness: Bakugou would become hyper-aware of your signs of fatigue or dizziness. If you so much as swayed while standing, he’d immediately drag you to sit down.

4. Loud Protector: If anyone dared to tease or question you about your condition, he’d explode (figuratively and maybe literally). “You got something to say?! Say it to me!”

5. Gentle in Private: Though Bakugou is explosive in public, in private, he’d show softer affection. He’d tuck blankets around you, carry you to bed if you overexerted yourself, and grumble softly, “Don’t push yourself, idiot.”

6. Hates Seeing You Weak: Seeing you too tired to get up genuinely unnerves him. He’d pace, bark orders, and eventually sit by your side, silently holding your hand.

7. Acts of Service: Bakugou would do small things like fetching water, helping you stand, or taking on your chores. Of course, he’d act like it’s no big deal. “You’re lucky I’m not a total asshole, huh?”

8. Research Master: He’d secretly learn about anemia from every available resource and even consult Recovery Girl or doctors. He wouldn’t tell you about it, though; he’d just start doing things that showed he knew what he was talking about.

9. Training Adjustment: He’d modify training sessions for you, subtly encouraging you to take breaks without making you feel weak. He might even offer to spar lightly to “keep you on your toes.”

10. Blunt Reassurance: If you ever felt self-conscious about your condition, Bakugou would bluntly shut you down. “You’re not weak. You’re mine, and that’s all that matters.”

Rest is for the Weak (But Not for You)

The morning started like any other. The dorms buzzed with activity as Class 1-A prepared for the day ahead. You had been one of the first to wake, though not because you were particularly eager. A familiar heaviness sat on your chest, and your limbs felt as though they were weighed down by lead.

It was nothing new. This was your normal.

“Y/N, you doing okay?” Mina’s cheerful voice rang out as she caught sight of you rubbing your temples. “You look kinda pale.”

You gave her a small smile, brushing it off. “I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

“You sure? I can grab you something from the cafeteria real quick if you need it!”

“Thanks, Mina, but I’m good,” you said firmly, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself.

She hesitated but eventually nodded, skipping off to join the others. As you gathered your things and headed toward the training grounds, you could feel the weight of someone’s gaze on you.

Turning your head, you locked eyes with Bakugou.

He didn’t say anything, but his narrowed eyes and furrowed brow made it clear he’d heard the exchange. You pretended not to notice and hurried to catch up with the others, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue.

_________________________________

The training session was supposed to be routine—a series of combat drills designed to test reflexes and stamina. You had been paired with Midoriya for a sparring match, something that usually wouldn’t faze you.

But today, every movement felt sluggish. Your punches lacked their usual strength, and your dodges were just a fraction too slow. Midoriya, ever the observant one, noticed almost immediately.

“Y/N, are you sure you’re feeling okay?” he asked, concern etched into his face as he blocked one of your weak punches.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, dodging to the side as he retaliated.

But the dizziness was getting worse. Your vision blurred at the edges, and the sound of your own heartbeat roared in your ears.

“Y/N—”

“Stop holding back!” you snapped, cutting him off.

Midoriya flinched but complied, though his hits were clearly pulled. You hated it—hated the pity in his eyes, the way he seemed afraid to fight you properly. You wanted to prove you could keep up, that you weren’t a liability.

And then your knees buckled.

_________________________________

“Oi! What the hell are you doing, Deku?!”

Bakugou’s voice rang out across the gym, loud enough to make everyone pause. You barely registered the sound of his boots stomping across the floor before he was standing between you and Midoriya, his crimson eyes blazing.

“I-It wasn’t his fault—” you started, but Bakugou cut you off with a sharp glare.

“Shut it, dumbass,” he growled before turning back to Midoriya. “What the hell were you thinking, letting them push themselves like that?”

Midoriya opened his mouth to respond but quickly decided against it, his expression shifting to one of resignation.

“And you,” Bakugou snarled, rounding on you. “What the hell were you thinking? You could’ve hurt yourself!”

“I’m fine!” you snapped, trying to push past him.

But Bakugou wasn’t having it. He grabbed your arm—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to stop you in your tracks.

“You’re not fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re done. Sit down before you pass out.”

_________________________________

Bakugou practically dragged you to the edge of the gym, ignoring your protests as he deposited you on a bench. The other students watched from a distance, their whispered conversations filling the air.

“Bakugou, you’re overreacting,” you muttered, crossing your arms as he crouched in front of you.

“Overreacting, my ass,” he shot back, his tone sharp. “You’re pale as shit, and you can’t even stand up straight. Don’t lie to me, Y/N.”

You glared at him, but the dizziness made it hard to keep your head up. Bakugou noticed immediately and let out an irritated sigh.

“Tch. Stay here,” he ordered before stomping off.

When he returned a few minutes later, he was carrying a water bottle and a protein bar. He shoved them at you without a word, his scowl deepening when you hesitated.

“Eat. Drink. Now,” he barked.

“Bakugou, I don’t need—”

“Don’t argue with me, dumbass!” he snapped, his voice louder than necessary. “Just do it!”

You flinched but complied, taking small sips of water and nibbling on the protein bar.

________________________________

When the session ended, Bakugou didn’t give you a choice about walking back to the dorms together. He hovered close, his sharp eyes scanning you for any signs of weakness.

“You didn’t have to walk me back,” you muttered, feeling a mix of gratitude and embarrassment.

“Shut up. You’re lucky I didn’t carry your ass,” he shot back.

The two of you walked in silence for a while, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife. But as you reached the dorms, Bakugou’s voice softened.

“You need to take care of yourself, Y/N,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.

You glanced at him, surprised by the shift in his demeanor. “I do take care of myself.”

“Bullshit,” he muttered. “If you did, I wouldn’t have to babysit you all the damn time.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the exhaustion caught up with you, and you leaned against the wall for support.

Bakugou was at your side in an instant, his hand on your arm as he steadied you.

“See? This is exactly what I’m talking about,” he grumbled. “You’re too damn stubborn for your own good.”

_________________________________

Once inside your room, Bakugou made himself at home, pulling a chair up beside your bed as you sat down.

“You’re not staying,” you said, giving him a tired look.

“Like hell I’m not,” he retorted, crossing his arms. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t do something stupid.”

You sighed, leaning back against the pillows. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re an idiot,” he shot back, though there was no real heat behind his words.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the tension gradually fading as the weight of the day settled over you. Bakugou’s presence, as much as you hated to admit it, was comforting.

_________________________________

The silence in your dorm room was a strange thing. Bakugou wasn’t one to enjoy stillness, yet here he was, sitting in your chair like he belonged there, arms crossed as he glared at the wall. The occasional sound of his foot tapping against the floor was the only thing breaking the quiet.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” you said finally, unable to take the tension anymore.

“Too bad,” he replied curtly.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “You’re seriously overreacting. I just got a little dizzy.”

He turned his sharp gaze on you, the intensity in his crimson eyes making you freeze. “A little dizzy? You couldn’t even finish training without almost eating shit in front of everyone.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” you muttered, looking away.

“I’m not saying it to piss you off, dumbass,” he snapped, leaning forward slightly. “I’m saying it because you’re being reckless.”

You stared at him, surprised by the raw frustration in his voice. Katsuki Bakugou was never one to sugarcoat his words, but there was something different about the way he spoke to you now—like he was genuinely afraid for you.

“I just don’t want to hold anyone back,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bakugou’s expression softened for a moment, though his scowl quickly returned. “You’re not holding anyone back,” he said firmly. “You think I give a crap if you can’t keep up sometimes? You’re not weak, Y/N.”

The words caught you off guard. You’d always thought Bakugou saw weakness as unforgivable, that he’d look down on anyone who couldn’t match his relentless energy. Hearing him say otherwise left you speechless.

“Tch. Don’t look at me like that,” he grumbled, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink. “I’m just telling the truth. Now shut up and rest.”

_________________________________

Despite Bakugou’s insistence that you stay in bed, word of your condition had spread among your classmates, and it wasn’t long before a few of them came knocking.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” Mina burst into the room, her usual enthusiasm dampened by concern. She carried a small bag of snacks, which she set on your bedside table with a flourish.

“I’m fine, really,” you said, offering her a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, they’re fine,” Bakugou interjected from his seat, his voice dripping with irritation. “Now get out.”

“Bakugou, be nice!” Kirishima appeared behind Mina, giving his friend a pointed look before turning to you. “We just wanted to check on you, Y/N. You scared us a little back there.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you said, guilt creeping into your tone. “I just… overdid it.”

“You think?” Bakugou muttered under his breath.

Kirishima chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, we’re glad you’re okay. Just take it easy, all right? And don’t let Bakugou boss you around too much.”

“Too late for that,” you joked, earning a glare from Bakugou.

After a few more minutes of chatting, Mina and Kirishima finally left, though not without a promise to check in on you again later. As soon as the door closed, Bakugou let out an irritated huff.

“They don’t know when to leave,” he grumbled.

“They’re just worried,” you said, leaning back against the pillows. “You don’t have to be so rude.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need a damn audience while I’m trying to take care of you,” he shot back.

You raised an eyebrow. “Trying to take care of me? Is that what this is?”

“Shut up,” he muttered, his cheeks flushing again.

_________________________________

That night, long after Bakugou had begrudgingly left your room, you lay awake, staring at the ceiling. His words from earlier echoed in your mind.

“You’re not weak, Y/N.”

It was such a simple statement, yet it meant more to you than you could explain. For as long as you could remember, you’d been battling the fear that your anemia made you a burden. You hated the idea of being someone others had to take care of.

But Bakugou didn’t see you that way.

You weren’t sure when he’d started paying such close attention to you, but his protectiveness was undeniable. It was infuriating at times, but it also warmed your heart in a way you couldn’t ignore.

_________________________________

When you woke the next morning, the first thing you noticed was the smell of food.

Groggily sitting up, you saw Bakugou standing by your desk, a tray of breakfast in his hands.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice still heavy with sleep.

“What’s it look like?” he replied, setting the tray down on your lap. “You’re eating before training today.”

You blinked at him, surprised. “You made this?”

“Don’t sound so shocked,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “It’s just eggs and toast. Not like I cooked a five-star meal.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you picked up your fork. “Thanks, Bakugou.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, looking away. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

As you ate, you noticed how he lingered by the door, his usual impatience replaced by something softer.

“Are you gonna watch me the whole time?” you teased.

“Maybe,” he shot back.

_________________________________

Over the next few weeks, Bakugou’s concern for you became an undeniable part of your routine. He started carrying snacks and water bottles with him during training, shoving them at you whenever he thought you looked tired. He adjusted his own training schedule to keep an eye on you, even if it meant sparring with someone else so he could watch from a distance.

And while he never outright said it, his actions spoke volumes.

One day, after a particularly exhausting training session, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the gym, your legs dangling over the side as you tried to catch your breath. Bakugou appeared beside you, handing you a cold water bottle without a word.

“Thanks,” you said, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip.

“Tch. Don’t mention it,” he muttered, sitting down next to you.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the sounds of the gym fading into the background. It was moments like this that reminded you just how much Bakugou cared, even if he’d never admit it.

“You’re not weak, you know,” he said suddenly, his voice softer than usual.

You turned to look at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone.

“Thanks, Katsuki,” you said quietly, using his first name for the first time in weeks.

He didn’t say anything, but the faint smile that tugged at his lips was enough.

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 days ago

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Hi, I really liked it and I thought the maidenless board game club headcanons were really fun, I don't know if you've done it for any other club, but if not, I'd like to ask if you could do it for the basketball club if it were possible, it's the club that has some of my favorite characters and I would really like to read :)

[Maidenless Board Game Club headcanons here!]

asdyugagsodoefa Thank you, I'm glad you liked those original headcanons 😅 That post is actually a bunch of ideas I cooked up while talking with a friend. We also talk about the Basketball Club a lot, so here's a compilation of those too. It should be noted that I do not intend to complete this prompt for all of the characters; I'm only posting the Basketball Club content because I happen to have them on hand. Any and all mentions of the reader are meant to be gender neutral; gendered terms may still appear in these headcanons, but never in reference to the reader.

Curiouser and Curiouser...

Ace tries to claim his stake as the "cool guy" of the team by bragging about his ex to the older players + acting like some dating god and advice dispenser. They seem none too impressed by him, with some of them (including Floyd) dunking on him for being ganged up on and scolded by a bunch of girls.

He swears to his club mates he can bag someone, he just thinks dating’s way too much trouble so he’s fine by himself, thank you very much! It’s Ace obviously scrambling to salvage his pride and reputation among his peers. (No one believes him.)

During the move-in week to NRC, Ace was out in Foothill Town to buy school supplies. He saw Jamil in casual wear and mistook him as a mature onee-san so he catcalled him. Ace rambled on for a while before Jamil cut him off by informing him that he is a man. This shocked and embarrassed Ace so much that he shut up and scurried away, thankful that the chances of running into Jamil again are slim... until he sees the exact same guy at the Basketball Team tryouts.

Ace has too much pride to back out now, but he also deeply fears that Jamil will obliterate him by sharing their first interaction with the team. Whenever Jamil smirks, Ace gets a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach and dreads what Jamil will say next. It could be the end of his social life at school! (It’s dangled over Ace’s head as collateral to get him to behave; if Ace acts out, Jamil will start to tell the story as a warning.)

If Ace spots a cute spectator at their games, he’ll wink at them, then call out and dedicate his next shot to them. (Bro proceeds to completely whiff the throw; the ball bounces off the rim of the hoop.)

He feels insecure about his masculinity, especially when put next to his senpai who get a lot more attention than he does. Ace tries to mooch off their popularity by claiming he’s a lot closer to them than he actually is or by playing up the role of being “the cute one”, only to be humiliated by Floyd or Jamil’s jeers. “Mmm? Isn’t Crabby the one who called me ‘the worst’ the other day?” / “… ‘Cute’? You? Don’t make me laugh. You’re anything but.”)

Attracts a decent amount of romantic attention (which Ace loudly complains about) but never commits to actively pursuing any relationship in the long term. No one seems to hold his interest long enough--and besides, Floyd's not lookin' to be tied down.

When asked “why do you like them?” or “why are you with them?” Floyd usually responds with a shrug or an answer that’s not too well thought out like, “Uh, cuz they told me they were into me?” or, “I dunno, just felt like it today.”

Frequently pisses potential partners off due to his attitude. Floyd can be fun but he flakes very often, saying he’ll be there one day and then cancelling like an hour before the date. He’s never consistent with anything, and that tests patiences.

Also commits the sin of ghosting people once he loses interest or he feels they’re being too needy. Ace calls him a bastard for that, but Floyd shoots back by reminding Ace he did this to HIS ex too.

There was an incident in which his S/O of like... one weekend's worth of time saw Jade in public and approached him, thinking it was Floyd. Jade did not recognize them but played along just to have fun. The S/O was so offended they stormed off and broke up with Floyd via text. He wasn't bothered at all; he and Jade shared a laugh about it. ("You're equally awful," Jamil had chided them.)

Casually and shamelessly talks about his escapades. Doesn’t care to be tactful with his wording, lays it all out there. Ace is super invested in the gossip whereas Jamil makes it clear he’s disgusted by this use of their club time.

Single because he is legitimately way too busy with school, caring for Kalim, etc. to even entertain the idea of a relationship. Doesn’t need that extra stress right now.

Najma calls him “forever alone” to her friends and jokingly acts all disgusted whenever he acts slightly shy or affectionate towards someone. “Oh my gosh, Jamil…! Are you crushing on them?!” she teases him. “Wow, I never thought I’d see the day where you’d be all lovey-dovey…” Since that first incident, Jamil had vowed to himself to never allow his sister see him in such a vulnerable state.

Due to his flat voice and placid face, Jamil is aware he can come off as cold or disinterested. He makes sure to smile a little and to brighten up his tone when speaking with someone he wants to make a good first impression with--but he's also careful never to get too close, to be too familiar. He must keep polite and professional at all times, lest he bring shame upon his name--or the Asims' name.

Jamil has somehow settled into the position of the "team mom" (not by choice, but due to necessity; who else is going to round up all these idiots?). He's the one bringing snacks, reminding the team to behave and to stay hydrated, tending to injuries with his first aid kit, etc. Ace sometimes makes fun of this and claims "no one wants a second parent for a boyfriend", to which Jamil just rolls his eyes and tells him to stop acting so childish.

The only one with some god damn common sense around here. Jamil listens to the callous way Floyd and Ace treated their exes and shakes his head, sighs, and tells them off. In his head, he talks himself up and claims he isn't so stupid as to make the same mistakes that they did if he were in their shoes. (... Yes, Jamil Viper is his OWN hype man for hypothetical romantic situations 😭)

HE’S SO REPRESSED, HOLY SHIT. Since he can’t feasibly go out and seek a relationship, Jamil settles for daydreams of a peaceful domestic life, traveling Twisted Wonderland together, and other adventures. He’d rather die than share any of these fantasies with his peers.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Floyd Leech #twst x reader #Jamil Viper #Ace Trappola #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #curiouser and curiouser #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #Reader #self insert #Ace Trappola x Reader #Jamil Viper x Reader #Floyd Leech x Reader

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zepskies · 6 hours ago

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Ooooh I'M so excited to see what you thought of the ATW finale!

Lol aww you remembered!! ❤️‍🔥 I've legit had this scene for this story in my head since that convo! But you're too kind to me, friend, thank you so very much. 🥹🥹 This is a lot shorter than how long my usual series run, so I feared it was a bit rushed, but I'm so glad you've enjoyed the ride. 💕

And yes, I did steal your other Ross gif! 🤣

There's legit a Friends gif for everything.~

Such a strong and hot start, wow! 🫠🔥 Full honesty, as a writer, starting chapters with smut always freaks me tf out. Like, where do you put the damn "keep reading" line without flashing some innocent people at work 😂

We're starting off with a bang! 😝 (Sorry, even I hate my self for that pun.)

Oh God, yeah. How do I include a hook to get people to read this chapter while keeping the steamy stuff under the cut? 🤣🤣

Ooof, I know the exact feeling you're describing here. Kinda like when you're taking a hot bath but the room is cold and so everything not covered by water is freezing... 😅

Yes exactly! The kind of cold that just exists in the air like a frigid blanket. 🥶

Oh, here we go! Executed to perfection 😏

Ahaha thank you, my lovely. 😏❤️‍🔥

First of all, I was just reading this whole, intensely scorching scene with a thundering heart and squeezing my damn thighs hard 😂 Secondly, I loooove this trope! It's sorta romantic?! Idk 😅🤷‍♀️ Kinda gives "waiting for the right one and not in the mood for anyone else" vibes. I did that kinda with Russell recently lol But I love the extra intensity and specialness it gives, y'know? ❤️‍🔥

omg I love that trope too (clearly lol)! Yes that's exactly it on it being actually romantic -- and if you mean on Part 3 of Exit Strategy than I'm even more excited to read that chapter when I get a chance -- hopefully later this week! 😍 I'm loving how you're writing Russell. 💗

But yes I agree it adds an extra spark here imo, knowing Dean has been unintentially "saving himself" for her lmaoo.

Loved the callback of him hearing her again, although his instincts had taken over. It shows how much he cares about her and respects her 💕 And I truly wonder what Sam will say when Dean comes back with a mate lol

Aww that's exactly what I intended as well! He's not so far gone that he doesn't consider her and what she wants (with him). 💕

You know what, a few people have requested seeing an epilogue of some kind where Sam gets to meet the reader and she gets to meet him and Dean Jr., so I may have to sketch something soon for my next little project. 🥰

Lol I was gonna say, "How long do you guys plan on being here? This might take a while" 😂 But I'm so in love with their little afterglow bonding session ❤️❤️❤️ I honestly could read about their convos forever. They're so cute 🥹

Lolll right? They could be here for a week just going over the past 15 seasons. 😂 But they have to start somewhere, right? John's journal can only cover so much. And I wanted Dean to start expressing himself to her in words and start to open up to her in a way he hasn't done for anyone in years.

Aww I'm so glad that you love them together! 💗 In this story I found that the small moments and day-to-day convos between these two were just as important as the bigger action/dramatic moments.

We've already talked about this when he mentioned Dean jr. the first time, but my headcanon is, too, that Dean would be super happy, incredibly sad and lonely, and definitely a little envious and sour lol 😂😂

Ugh that's exactly it, poor baby. 😭 A perfect description of Dean post S15 here (gotta add envious and sour lmao).

You really nailed him here! I could hear every word out of his mouth, too!! 😂🫶

Omg thank you!! I feel like Dean's the one I can hear most clearly in my head when I write for him. 😂😂

Can totally seeing him doing all of that and arguing with her throughout lol Our hero 🥹💚

Oh absolutely. These two would probably be driving each other crazy while still being crazy in love with one another -- bickering all down the mountain. 🙄😂

(Dean grumbling, trying to stamp down his smile: "Shoulda left you for the damn bear.")

Oooh, I completely forgot she doesn't yet!! Aww, she loved him before she knew he had a cool car. This is like finding out he was a millionaire and kept it a secret to find true love and weed out the gold diggers 🤣

Bahahaa I LOVE that comparison. 🤣 I just imagined him pulling up like--

This had me DEAD 🤣🤣🤣

lmfaoooo I meannnn, is he wrong? 😂😂

A year???? Jesus fuck, this is even sadder now!!! Sam was really like, "Ciao, jerk." lol

Yeeeeah maybe this is something I'll explore if/when I write that epilogue, but Sam really is off having his new life. Granted, in my mind he reaches out to Dean to check in, invite him over, etc., but even though Dean's happy for him, it's hard to be around Sam's life when Dean himself feels so aimless (and kind of empty inside). So he probably did a lot of the "staying away" in the situation. 💙

Oh she's about to find out how much 😂😂💚

Oh she's about to find out a lot of things about her man that she never thought possible. 🤣🤣

("You've died HOW many times?!!")

That was such a perfect ending! They literally drove off into the sunset together *swoon* 😍🫠🫶 (And I could totally see Dean singing along to the lyrics at the end there) I seriously enjoyed this series so much, friend!! 🤍🤍🤍 Totally gave me those vibes 🥹💕:

Aww thank you so, so much, Wayne!! 💕💕 They really did have their Hallmark movie moment lol. (Oh, he SO would be singing along -- loudly! lol)

omggg I'm honestly honored that it gave you Mondler vibes. 🥹 I always loved them more than Ross/Rachel tbh, so that's literally the best compliment ever. 💗

Thank you again so much for reading and always brightening my day right up with your wonderful, insightful, hilarious comments on my writing, friend. 💞

Against the Wind - Part 4

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

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

AN: The grand finale...

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, knotting, claiming, fluff and feels.

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Part 4: Running to Live

His cold hands are warming on your skin as he slides them underneath your sweater. They move smoothly up your back, bunching up the material. You break from his kiss only to help him get the sweater off you, followed closely by his pants.

Your sweatpants slide down your legs with just a sharp tug, baring most of your body to his gaze. His eyes drag over your exposed neck and shoulders, your breasts cupped in your bra, down to your panties and bare thighs.

A shiver runs through you, both from his heated gaze, and from being exposed to the cooler air. Even with the fire going and the heater running in the cabin, the frigid air outside is unforgiving.

You have no problem with the way Dean guides you down from the chaise to take advantage of your nest on the floor, right in front of the fire. He draws you into a sensuous kiss, sucking your lower lip into his mouth and grazing with teeth.

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return. You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the prickling of his stubble. Your fingers thread into his hair, and you pull him back down for a devouring kiss.

Dean’s brows furrow as he holds you to him, wanting to feel every part of your skin against his. His calloused fingers map their way down your side, and across your back to unhook your bra. His lips veer away from yours to burn a wet, heated trail along your neck. His teeth come out to graze your skin, down your throat, down the lovely valley between your breasts.

“Dean,” you gasp, encouraging him when his hand cups one of your breasts. He explores the other with his mouth, teasing a pebbled nipple with his tongue. Your fingers tighten in his hair, your thighs rubbing together between the cage of his knees in the mess of blankets. Already you feel slick forming at the apex of your thighs and slipping down in between.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin. “Fucking beautiful, you know that?”

You can’t help but smile. Your face warms either from the fire dancing shadows across your bodies, or from him, his attention, his warmth, and the heat in his eyes when they meet your again. His hand slides down your body, over your hip and squeezing your thigh as he opens you up further for him.

“Tell me what you want, Omega.” While I still have control, his tone implies. His voice is gravel and sin while his hand moves swiftly and smoothly up the inside of your thigh.

“Touch me,” you breathe.

Nodding, he hooks his fingers around the hem of your panties and slides them down. You help him kick them off. Afterward, his thumb brushes over your mound, making you sharply inhale and squeeze his shoulders encouragingly. His fingers dip inside your wet heat, his brows raising with a smirk, as he feels the sheer amount of your slick already coating his digits.

“Fuck. This all for me, baby?” he remarks.

You hold onto the back of his neck with both hands as you nod, biting your lip. Your hips begin to cant against his hand on reflex, urging him to touch you.

“Alpha, please…” you implore, in a ragged whisper. He swallows your plea with a ravaging kiss, but he still gives you what you want. His thumb circles your clit, earning a moan from you into his mouth.

Soon, two of his fingers plunge slowly inside you, working you open, drawing more gasps and shudders of pleasure from your body. His length continues to strain hard against your thigh, but for him, it’s worth it to draw every sound, every time your body writhes and arches against him, craving release.

With a few more purposeful strokes, your inner walls clamp tight on his hand, and a flood of slick coats his knuckles even more. You gasp his name, your hands squeezing his arms just as tight as your pussy around his fingers.

Your skin is beginning to get dewy with sweat, and he kisses some of it off you when he trails down your chest. You stroke down his arms, down his back, whatever you can reach as you catch your breath. But then, his name falls from your lips with a firmer tone.

Dean raises his head, and you gently push at his chest. His brows furrow in confusion, only for it to be replaced with a smile of surprise when you curl a thigh over his hip and guide him onto his back. His head just manages to fall on one of your pillows, but he still utters a small grunt. You giggle down at him, bowing to meet him for a kiss.

He smirks and holds onto your hips, playfully squeezing your ass. “My wily omega.”

“Thought I was your cheeky omega,” you tease.

He snorts. “That too.”

You giggle some more as you treat him to the same path of open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Except this time, you hook a hand behind his neck, and you trail your tongue around his mating gland. You feel his jolt of surprise, as well as his instinctive growl of pleasure in response to his mate. Or at least, not yet…

His heart pounds in his chest.

“Omega,” he says, a warning not to tease as his grip tightens on your hips.

The command in his voice makes you shiver, but you smile and nuzzle his cheek in affection. You kiss your way down his body, playing special attention to his nipples, his stomach, the soft V and the happy trail of light brown fuzz leading you down between his hips.

Your fingers slide down his hardened desire through his underwear, earning a grunt from him, along with a shifting of his body against the blankets. Your lips curve as you nuzzle him there as well, letting your lips drag across his impressive length.

His fingers tangle in your hair when you hook your nails around the waistband and free his cock from its confines. His boxers join the rest of your clothes somewhere, and finally you get to see all of him, as much as he takes in all of you. Your hand wraps around his girth, your thumb circling around the sensitive, weeping head of it. Dean groans, a sound from deep in his chest.

You don’t know this, but it’s been a while since anyone but his own hand has touched him. That’s not the only reason his body has been calling to yours, but it plays a part in how fucking good it feels, and how much more he wants you.

He feels your intentions when your hand moves down his shaft in a teasing caress, your fingers tracing around his knot. A shudder rattles down his spine, makes his desire burn hotter in the pit of his stomach.

He can’t fucking take it anymore. He needs you, needs to be inside you. Needs to take you the way his instincts demand.

He grasps your shoulder before you put your mouth on him. You blink up at him, with a question forming on your lips, but he hefts you up onto his chest by your arms. He cages you there with a kiss filled with abject need.

“I can’t. Can’t wait anymore,” he says. He drags his fingers through your folds and earns another moan from your when he finds your clit. “You ready for me, Omega? Need my knot?”

“Yeah,” you nod, agreeing against his lips. “Need you, Alpha—”

No sooner had the words escaped your lips, when Dean rolls you back underneath him. But this time, he guides you onto your stomach, then raises up your hips, until you’re on your hands and knees. You catch your breath as you regain your bearings, shooting an incredulous smile over your shoulder at Dean. He smirks back at you, but his gaze is intense, his pupils darkened with the alpha inside him.

Still, he soothes a hand down your back and steadies you with a hold on your hip. You feel him slot himself behind you, guiding his cock at your entrance. His chest presses hotly against your back.

“Last chance, Omega,” he says, his voice tight with restraint.

You look back at him again over your shoulder, your mouth threatening to frown. You reach back and sink your fingers into his hair with a sharp tug. “Do it.”

He sinks into you with one smooth plunge. It’s a relief for both of you, your mingled moans echoing in the near silence. All that’s left is the sound of your quickening breaths, of skin against sweat-slick skin as you move together.

Dean brushes your hair away from your neck. He kisses and licks his way along your bare shoulder, and finally the back of your neck. You’re trembling by the time his lips find the sensitive flesh of your mating gland. It echoes with the pulsing from your core as he continues to drive into you.

“Alpha,” you gasp on reflex. You squeeze his arm; he has it wrapped tight around your middle. Your pleasure builds ever closer to that crescendo, especially as his thrusts become ragged, at an angle that zips delicious tingles through your core. “Close…just…I need…”

Dean isn’t so far gone. He hears you, and helps you, reaching his hand around to strum his fingers insistently on your clit, along with his final thrusts.

Finally, it tumbles you over. Your inner walls become impossibly tight around him as he draws out your second release—one that triggers his own. Dean groans into your ear; his knot swells and locks into place, and he spends himself deep inside you. He pants hot against your neck, but even though he fastens his lips there, he hesitates, once again making you shudder.

“Do it,” you repeat, in a coarse whisper. You’re close to tears. “Please. Want you, Alpha. Need you…”

Once again, he hears you.

His teeth sink into the back of your neck, making you cry out. But your pain is quickly overshadowed by a deepest pleasure, thrumming along with his.

Afterward, Dean holds you in his arms. The warm glow of the fire paints your skin in its light, despite the utter darkness in the rest of the house.

While you both wait for his knot to subside, you revel in the fact that you know he’s content. You can feel it through the newly formed bond. He traces random shapes in your skin, which still glistens with a fine sheen of sweat. The fire he stoked doesn’t help to cool you down, but you don’t care.

Nothing else matters but this. You turn your head toward him over your shoulder. He meets you there with a gentle kiss, much more gentle than any other you’ve shared before. It feels right.

When he parts from you, he presses another kiss to your forehead. Then he leans back a little and sighs. You feel his thumb trace the raw flesh around the claiming mark on your neck. A small shiver runs through your body. Maybe on another day, you’ll mark him in return.

“It’s too damn late,” he says, breaking the silence. “You realize that right?”

You shoot him a frown. “Too late for what?”

“For me to let you go,” he says.

His words both warm you and make you sad. Just how little does he think of himself?

“Dean,” you say, endeavoring to be patient. “You’re my true mate. Do you know how rare it is that we’ve actually found each other?”

Dean remains quiet.

“And after everything you’ve done for me,” you add, “how can I not think you’re a good man? How can I not think this is right?”

He seems to consider your question. His gaze briefly falls, then meets your eyes again.

“You don’t know me that well,” is his answer, with a wry turn of his lips.

You reach back to caress his cheek. “Then tell me. Tell me about, um…tell me about how you became a hunter. From your dad’s journal, I got the sense that it’s a family thing.”

A vendetta, you wanted to say, but you keep that thought inside.

Dean chuckles, dropping another kiss onto your shoulder. You feel the pleasurable rasp of his stubble.

“Yeah, more like a family business,” he says.

He tells you why John Winchester started writing in that journal in the first place. Dean explains it in his own words, of what his family was before and after a demon broke into his brother’s nursery. Your heart continues to break for him, over and over, the more story he tells. Your shock can only reach new heights when he tells you about angels and demons and everything in between.

There are moments where he pauses, needing the time to find his words. He’s talked for so long that his knot finally softens, allowing you to withdraw from him, just to turn in his arms and be able to see his face. He bundles you in the blankets to keep you warm, but he also keeps you close, with a loose arm around your waist as he continues.

You sense that he’s not telling you everything. How could he? A lifetime of blood and wins and incredible losses; family gained, and family lost, endless saves, and so many near misses. You listen with rapt attention (and a lot of shock) to everything he can share, but your heart twinges when you see how he struggles to talk about his mother’s most recent death. Then his best friend Cas.

You realize that this man, for all his self-deprecation, is a hero. More so than you already knew.

“After the whole Chuck thing was done, I thought we’d just…go back to status quo. Me and Sam against the world, you know?” Dean says. He gives a rueful smile. “Then Sammy tells me he knocked up his mate.”

You smile. “You’re happy for him though.”

“Course I am,” Dean nods. “He never thought he’d get to have all that. A badass chick who can keep him on his toes, a house, the kid, the whole damn thing. He’s downright respectable again.”

His brotherly pride and his humor are tinged with something else though. You think you begin to understand. His losses have weighed him down, leaving him aimless and living in that in between, not unlike the ghosts he used to hunt. You know the feeling.

You thread your fingers with his, earning his attention.

“You can have that too, you know,” you say. “I mean, I don’t want to skip ahead, but I feel like things are going well here, despite the whole busted ankle thing.”

Dean slowly smiles, shaking his head. He brings your hand up to his lips.

“Okay, enough about my Hallmark movie life. What about you?” he asks.

So you tell him.

You two continue to share and explore, both in words and with your bodies, until morning comes.

It’s another week in the cabin before Dean insists on helping you down the mountain. Your ankle has gotten a little better, but at this point, you need to see a doctor. It takes a couple of days, going as slow as you need to. He ends up carrying you for most of the way anyway. You tell him over and over that he doesn’t have to, but your alpha is stubborn.

Once he gets you back to the city, you two take a shuttle to the nearest hospital. X-rays are taken, and you get a new cast for your officially fractured ankle. At the very least, you don’t need surgery. You’re able to call your mom from there and let her know where you’ve been, that you’re all right, and best of all…that you’ve found your mate.

You cry along with her on the phone, this time for a good reason. The best reason.

When you’re eventually released from the hospital, Dean picks you up in a sleek, black Chevy that has your eyes wide.

He grins at the look on your face. “Hey, sweetheart. Come meet my Baby.”

He parks the car and keeps the heater running while he comes around to you in swift strides. He takes your crutches and slides them into the backseat, then helps you into the passenger seat.

“It’s beautiful, but my God, how old is this thing?”

“She. She’s a she.”

“Oh, pardon me,” you say in amusement. “Do I have some competition here?”

Dean gives you a teasing smirk. “Well, technically, she’s been with me a lot longer than you.”

You scoff incredulously. He laughs and takes your hand, pressing a kiss into your palm. You discreetly study him and marvel at how much lighter he seems. You don’t know how much is because of this, what your hand in his symbolizes, and how much is because he’s reunited with something important to him.

“It’s okay, Omega mine,” he says, with a measure of desire in his eyes. “From now on, you’re my priority.”

Your spine prickles with the same arousal you can feel from him through the bond. You lean across the way and share a thorough kiss.

Until a horn honks loudly from behind. You both jolt, but Dean’s face falls into annoyance. He shoots up a choice finger at the car behind him in the rearview mirror. You laugh as he begins to peel out of the curved pick-up and drop-off zone in front of the hospital.

“Where are we going, Dean?” you ask, still smiling in amusement.

“Wherever we damn well please.” He turns to you with a hint of a smile reforming on his lips. “Want me to take you back home? We can sort out the logistics on, uh…well, this.”

You think about it. He poses a good idea, but at the same time, you’re not quite ready for this part of the adventure to end.

“How long has it been since you’ve seen Sam?” you ask.

Dean blinks at your question. He whistles lowly. “About a year. Jesus, since my nephew was born.”

You smile and reach over, resting your hand on his thigh.

“Let’s go see him, then,” you say. “I want to meet your family. Then you can meet mine.”

After that, you two can figure out the rest, like where to live, and how you’ll live.

Dean raises a brow. “Really? That’s like, a thirteen-hour drive.”

You shrug. “I’ve always wanted to go on a real road trip. Can we get some food first though? I’m starving.”

He laughs and nods as he stops the car at a red light.

“What do you know? A woman after my own heart,” he says. His amusement eases into a gentler smile the longer he stares at you. You smile back, and you give into the urge to lean in again, meeting your lips with his. He brushes your cheek tenderly with his thumb.

“I know what this needs,” he says lowly. Your brows draw together in a silent question.

He pulls away to reach into the side compartment along the driver door. He fishes out a cassette tape labelled Zeppelin IV. You bite your lip and try not to say anything smartassed.

Damn, this man is old school.

He skips ahead until he finds Track 7, just as the light turns green. A melodious guitar riff fills the car as he turns onto the main road with your hand wrapped in his.

Made up my mind to make a new start.

Going to California with an aching in my heart…

AN: And that's all, folks! 🥹 I truly hope you enjoyed Against the Wind!

Like I said in a recent update, I have more stories in store for you guys. January 3 will be Part 1 of Outlander -- sequel to The Honorable Choice -- a Western AU with Dean as our resident cowboy! I'll post a sneak peek on that one soon.~

But in the meantime, I hope you'll let me know what you thought of ATW! 💜💜

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