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lulunothulu · 1 month

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Always Second Choice

A/N: I’ve been in such a fluffy mood omg. Please enjoy a fantasy I’ve been thinking about all day.

TW: PURE FLUFF, some alcohol use, sad boi hours, sappiness, BUT HAPPY ENDING 💗

“Why can’t I be someone that a person loves first?”

You’d had a wild night of drinking with Phoenix after running into your ex. Seeing him always made you want to go all out, mainly because you wanted to forget about him and what he did to you. It’d been a year since you caught him in bed with another woman and you still freak out whenever you run into him at the grocery store.

Tonight wasn’t an exception. You had called Natasha to come drink with you—who called Bradley and Jake—because you desperately needed to take shots of tequila after you saw your ex with the girl he cheated on you with. She was pregnant.

“Why couldn’t he have loved me?” You had cried after three shots. “Why wasn’t I the one he chose? Why am I always someone’s second choice?”

After another three and a half shots, Jake told you to call it night.

That was the thing about Jake, he was one of the best friends you could ever ask for. No matter what—or who— he was doing, he dropped everything to make sure you were okay and safe. It’s part of the reason why you fell for him, and hard. He was the first person you’d fully loved with your whole heart. But given that you both worked together and he saw you strictly as a friend, you knew it wouldn’t have worked. And then there was his man-whore ways. He wouldn’t give that up to be with someone—let alone you.

You had drunkenly told an extremely inebriated Nat and Bradley a sloppy goodbye before Jake scooped you up and over his shoulder and gentle walked and placed you in his truck.

He’s carried you up the stairs of your shared two bedroom house and gently laid you on your bed. Even helping you undress and put on an oversized t-shirt with some basketball shorts.

“I’ll be right here if you need me,” he told you before kissing your forehead and smoothing your hair.

“You promise?” You asked.

“I promise, darling.”

You had woken up with a startle and began to panic before realizing you were home and in your bed. Flashes of the night popped into your mind and you groaned before remembering that Jake was on the floor of your room.

“Jake,” you whisper. You knew he’d still be there. He promised he would.

“Yeah?” He groggily whispers back. He must’ve been asleep.

“Why did you bring me home? Don’t you have people to see?”

“Kinda,” he groans as he sits up from the carpeted floor and turns to look at you with squinted eyes. “And I brought you home because you were babbling at the bar.”

“Oh, why are you still here? I thought you were on a date?” You ask.

“You remember that?” He chuckled. “You had nearly seven shots.”

“It’s all kinda popping into my mind,” you admit. “I’m sorry I kept you from her, whoever she was.”

“It’s fine. I was gonna cancel our hookup anyway.”

“Why?” You dared to ask.

“I had better things to be doing,” he says, turning those green eyes on you with so much kindness, you felt like you were melting.

You turn away abruptly and nod, feeling your hair fall around your face. You feel Jake’s fingers brush against your forehead before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a smile.

“Now what did you mean at the bar?” Jake asks. “You know, about being someone second choice?”

You hesitate. As much as you loved Jake, you damn sure were not going to be telling him this...at least not now.

"Nothing, I was drunk as hell," you say instead.

Jake lifts a brow before sighing and standing from the floor, looking down at you from the side of the bed. "Scoot over, the floor is hard as fuck."

You laugh but scoot over, allowing Jake to climb into bed with you with a loud sigh. His arm brushes next to your arm before settling on top, his hand squeezing yours.

"You're my first choice," he whispers.

Your heart flutters at the thought of being his first choice but then stops when you realize he probably means it in a platonic way.

"Thanks," you mutter. "At least I'm someone's first choice."

Jake shuffles to face you, a frown forming on his brow. "I mean it, Y/N. You're my first and only choice."

"Okay, Jake." You're not convinced but at least the heart was in the statement.

"Y/N," he starts, cupping your face. "Why do you think I cancelled my date?"

"To take care of my drunk ass," you chuckle.

"No," he smiles. "Because I'd hate to know Bradley's hands were the ones drying your tears, dressing you. I hate the thought of having anyone other than me taking care of you. You're my girl."

"Your girl?"

"My number one," he starts. "My day one. My ride or die. My love. Don't think I haven't noticed how annoyed you get when I'd pick up girls at Hard Deck."

Your heart was pounding in your chest. You couldn't believe Jake was telling you this, that he noticed your annoyance.

"Why are you telling me this?" you ask.

He caresses your cheek before whispering, "You know why."

"No, I don't," you whisper back.

"Then let me show you."

Before you can react, Jake is sitting up and pressing his lips onto your forehead. He peppers kisses down your cheeks and nose before hovering over your lips. He’s panting softly, smiling down at you before he fully leans in.

His soft lips brush against yours and tentatively peck at them. Only when you wrap an arm around his neck does he deepen the kiss, smothering you in the best way imaginable.

His lips are wander and explore yours like an archeologist would an Egyptian tomb. His tongue pushes past your lips, wrestling with your own the taste of alcohol mixed with something sweet lingering.

Jake snakes his hand to the back of your neck, cradling your head in his hand.

“Oh, Y/N.” He moans into your mouth. “I’ve been waiting to kiss you.”

See to him, you’ve been the girl he’s been dreaming about. The one he thinks of before he goes to bed. The one he needed to distract himself from because he didn’t feel like you had feelings for him. He’s loved you from the very moment you walked onto the tarmac and chewed his ass out for flying recklessly. He’s loved you every day, every minute, every second.

Only now, when he saw you crying about being chosen second, did he think to make his move.

To hell with the friendship. He wanted more.

“Jake,” you breathlessly reply when he kisses down your neck. “You can’t mean that. It’s the alcohol talking.”

He stops kissing you, looking deep into your eyes and turning serious.

“Y/N, when I tell you I’ve been waiting to kiss you, I mean it. From the moment you walked onto the tarmac two years ago, to now. Now god damnit, let me kiss you.”

So you did.

#jake hangman fic #glen powell #fanfic #jake hangman seresin #glen powell x reader #hangman x reader #hangman x you

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ravengards-rogue · 7 months

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i thought of you so often.

arthur morgan x reader.

✧ tags : fem!reader (gendered language, explicit use of she/her in reference to reader), children / planning on children, generally sappiness, fluff, au where nothing bad happens to arthur hdskjsdkfhsj.

✧ wc : 2.4k (???)

✧ a/n : arthur morgan.... save me arthur morgan....also not a super original thought but i can't Stop thinking about it.

✧ synopsis : a collection of love letters, all unfinished, tucked somewhere you aren't meant to find them. oh, arthur loves you more than you knew.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

You try to keep out of Arthur's belongings.

He's owed some privacy, for one. More than that, you've never felt any reason to look into it. Arthur isn't a man of many words, though you catch moments of his introspection should you pry. He isn't stoic, neither. And above all things, he's kind. Really truly kind in a way that makes him different from other men.

You don't have any complaints about him is what you mean. Unlike the men you've loved before, there are no short-comings of Arthur that would drive you to wanting to investigate his own personal things. Especially something so personal like his journals, prior or present.

On top of that, you were there with him through everything. You were part of the gang and stayed by him when it all fell apart. It was towards the end of that that Arthur came to you near frenzied, told you his plans, his thoughts. Confided in you and no less than begged to go with him where he ran.

You loved Arthur enough to stay, and so things ended - and you ran. There isn't much his journal could tell that you couldn't surmise on your own.

It's been years now, and you've long since left that life. You live with Arthur quietly, peaceful in the moments with a garden and kitty sweet as sugar.

It's a good life. An honest, quiet one sometimes to the point of being boring. You rarely miss the action, though occasionally you'll take up a bounty just to feel alive and make some money.

Mostly though, you live as unassuming folk. No bloodshed, no wardens, no gunslinging.

Been talk between you both about having a baby, recently. Serious talk. You've made some money between here and there, and you've got a good life. You've traveled too. But it gets a little lonely, and you don't really get your fill with just Jack when John and Abi are ways away.

Before anything like that, though - you need to clear some space. Empty out some belongings and things collecting dust. Living in one place for too long creates all sorts of mess, you find. When Arthur is home to help, he does - but he's been busy lately figuring something out with Charles. Some business venture related to ranching that you know nothing about so far. They'll tell you when its ready.

Usually when you're tidying, you keep to just your things, or your shared things - but Arthur has lived more life than you. It shows in that big closet space filled with nick-knacks he has yet to toss.

You'd mentioned it to him not too long ago and he'd given you permission to go through them.

(A kiss to your forehead from chapped lips and hands holding your waist, Arthur hums in acknowledgement as you ask his permission.

"Ain't nothing I gotta hide from you. Do whatever you need.)

But like you said - you try to keep your nose out of his business if it's not necessary for you to be in it in anyway.

You weren't trying to look through his things, really. You started cleaning, worked your way to that last box. Up on a shelf in his closet, a little too high for you to reach easily. You made a misstep and dropped the damn thing. It barely missed your head as the whole thing fell open, and out came journals and papers and photographs.

You've always known Arthur to be sentimental, so none of it has been particularly surprising. A photo of wolves and him on a horse, the picture from John and Abigail's engagement. Some other scraps of sentimental value.

And then there was a journal. Not Arthur's journal that he's always using, but another you've never seen before. You know Arthur journals, seen the thing plenty though you never look unless he shows you first.

A journal with a dark brown stained leather binding, fallen open and your name scrawled out in pencil lead at the top of it.

The curiosity got the better of you, okay? Not your damn fault.

So you're thinking on it.

The fabric of your skirt is pooled out underneath you as you hold the thing in your hands, sitting down on the ground surrounded by things. You've stowed away everything else that fell out from the box after ensuring it was intact, including Arthur's journals. Everything with the exception of the one you're holding.

Some guilt eats at you. You don't wanna upset him potentially by having looked. Even if he gave you permission, looking in the damn thing is a little different. But your name was there so clearly, and well - you didn't think he wrote about you. Apart from here and there, maybe.

You hold the book out in front of you with a sigh, looking fondly at his name ingrained in the leather. You press your forehead against it with, resigning yourself completely.

"Lord forgive my pryin'," You mumble, hoping it's enough to absolve you.

Your heart feels funny as you let your fingers trace over the hard edge of the front cover, one eye shut as you start to open it slow.

The first few pages are nothing special.

A page outlining who the journal belongs to and when it was started, and some doodles of yarrow and oleander. The pages after that filled with mundane entries. About people he met or things he saw, all endearing to you. The corners of your lips tug up slightly.

You really love this man helplessly.

You flip through a few more pages, many of them blank before writing starts to appear again. Little by little, you find passages. You look to the dates up at the corner (though not all of them have one) and trace the timeline. This is from all the way back in Horseshoe Overlook.

It feels like ages ago now.

You look at a page with no date, and reading the writing in it. There's doodles of flowers and trees along the bottom of the page. The words are easy enough to make out - because Arthur has the most unusually beautiful handwriting.

There's some entries about you. At first, they all include your name in some context. Mentioned in the same way Arthur might mention Hosea or Abigail. The further you go, the less you see it. The more you become her and she.

It's a trend. The longer you read, the less there is about anyone else. Just you and all your silly idiosyncrasies tucked between pages. Something lovestruck and foolish lights its match in you.

Saw a body hanging at the tracks at Valentine. A gruesome sight. I told her about it and she laughed. Asked me to take her to see it. A strange woman, by all accounts.

You feel yourself smile a little as you continue to flip through the pages.

She joined me riding into town today. Said she had some business to attend but would not tell me any details. After, she came with me to purchase a new gun. I engraved a snake into it's handle, per her request.

Another few pages littered with drawings of delicate berries and waterfalls before you stumble across more writing. The more you flip, the longer the passages become you.

You can't tear your eyes away.

Rained today. Nothing too terrible or worth mentioning, except that she nearly caught a cold playing in it. I brought her coffee to keep her warm, but could not scold her further upon seeing her delight.

Another passage, this time written with messier hand writing. A coffee stain splatters on the white of the page.

Your heart tugs on itself. Swells about a thousand sizes. To think he wrote so much of your time together between these pages.

You read and read and read - and each passage is a little more mundane at the last. Some pages go on in vivid detail, but others are so short you aren't sure what to make of the fact he wrote them at all. As if such little details were important enough to keep in mind.

I picked a flower for her. I thought it would suit her taste. It was white with delicate petals. I did not know the name.

She wore it in her hair this evening. I find I can't stop grinning.

One passage on the next few pages, longer than the rest, catches your eye. From later in your time together, written when you were in Leymone. Near Scarlett Meadows and before the mess in Saint Denis.

After Arthur had been kidnapped.

I have gone on and on about the business with Colm O'Driscoll in many entries before this one. Yet, I find it difficult to forget. Many times I have come close to death, and still no experience lingers on my mind quite like this one. Everyone has done their best to look after me. For that I am grateful, though I do not care for being looked after. What use am I like this, I wonder? Perhaps, I should simply be grateful to be alive and in one piece, if a little uglier than I was. Alongside Miss Grimshaw and Miss Tilly, she has been by my side while I recovered. Such a carefree woman and yet I have seen her cry and weep over me countless times in the last few weeks alone. The decent man in me is apologetic for causing sorrow. Perhaps, it is the outlaw in me that feels some strange relief or satisfaction. Her fussing does not give me any grief. If anything, I find myself all the more endeared. Such a decent woman does not belong in a place like this. I hope she is able to go somewhere far away and live peacefully. I am not so shameless to want anything more. The time together we have spent, I will make sure to cherish.

Something painful and pitiful tugs at your heart. Even when Arthur admitted his feelings for you, he had started it on a similar tangent. You tell him often that you're the one who feels out of bounds with him. That a man as decent and as honest as him often feels like too much for you to have so easily.

A tear slips from your eye and you laugh at your own sentimentality, wiping it away before it can splatter onto the pages.

The further you read, the more sporadic entries become. You find that there are pages filled with sketches of you, but many of them are scratched out or half erased - like he did not find them good enough. Of your side profile, of your hands, of you pointing at a target with a gun. You feel a strange feeling of love wash over you.

Instead of concrete thoughts, you're met with Arthur's abstract. Subtle complexities and studies. There's honest tenderness in the way he sketches you and the words he chooses to caption each with. Lighter, thinner lines. Smaller doodles like stray daydreams caught onto a page.

You've never doubted Arthur in his love for you, quiet man he is - but it proves to overwhelm when presented to you in such a way.

You get to back pages. There, you're finally met with more writing. Except, instead of journal entries, there's the start of letters. You find your name at the top of the page.

Over and over. Love letters, all unfinished or scrapped. Written over and over and over, but not completed. There's tens of them at least. You've never received a love letter from Arthur before, though it's nothing you fault him for.

Now you're almost glad. You like this much better.

My darling girl My muse The better half of me, I must find some way to tell you all of what I think of you. It seems no words do it justice, I'm afraid. Still, it is in my best interest to try.

Damn that man.

When you find yourself starting to weep, you don't fight the feeling. You merely shut the book closed and set it in your lap before crying into your hands.

Such overwhelmingly happy tears. You feel off balance. If the whole world turned on its head this very minute, you're unsure you'd notice. What a decent, honest man you've come to love. What a tender one.

In the middle of your crying, you don't hear the door open or close. Nor do you hear Arthur's heavy footfall until he's in the doorway, with a voice worried half to death.

"Sweetheart, what in the hell?"

You turn your head to look at him, watching his eyes widen at your tear stained face. You clamber to your feet hurriedly, book dropping onto the ground next to you as you throw yourself at him as soon as you can.

Arthur is a steady enough man not to stumble when you do, though you can feel his apprehension. Eventually, he circles his arms around your waist. His hugs are strong. Bout strong as him and then some. An arm wrapped around your waist, the other crossed over your back all around your shoulder. Full pressure as he squeezes you tight, patting the back of your head.

"I leave you alone for a few hours. What has gotten into you, little lady?"

You pull back and and look at him, wet lashes and all, before leaning up to kiss him. Arthur meets your lips chastely at first before making a noise of surprise as you kiss him further. You use both hands to grab his face as you do, scruff scratching against your skin. His lips are soft, welcoming. He melts into the touch, so easily - blue eyes lovestruck as you pull away.

"You know I love you, don't you Arthur? More than anyone in this crazy world we live in,"

His face softens visibly. He smiles at you, touching his head to yours.

"Somehow, I do. Though, I'm wonderin' what the hell brought this on."

You tuck your face against his chest, feeling his laughter reverb through you at the way you cling to him so fervently. You sniffle as you talk.

"Found your journal. The one about me,"

He goes stiff, then silent. When you look up again, he's blushing red. He pinches his brow.

"Lord, I'd forgotten all about it,"

You shake your head.

"Ain't nothing for you to be embarrassed about. You are so wonderful,"

He pouts at you. Your heart swells. "You ain't helping with the embarrassment."

You hold him further. Hug him so tight, worried he'll disappear if you don't.

"I love you, Arthur."

"You already told me once, didn'tcha?"

"And I'll tell you one thousand times over," You emphasize, pouting at him. "Really. I love you,"

"I love you too sweetheart," His hand cups your face, thumb brushing along your waterline. "Don't cry no more. Spoils that pretty face."

"I'll try but I don't know if it's all out of me,"

Arthur laughs, pressing a kiss against your hairline. "Guess I'll just have to wipe your tears."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

#zero.writes #rogues love letters #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fluff #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 fluff #red dead redemption x reader #this is so lovesick and silly i feel so miserable #I AM A JOHN GIRL. BUT. well that deadbeat father and bastard isnt gonna write you love letters like arthur im afraid

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harrysfolklore · 3 months

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Can you write an imagine of Harry inspired by that clip of Taylor playing call it what you want on the guitar in miss americana where he’s recording you as you play him the song you wrote for him plsss 🙏🏼

golden hour - hs

A HARRY FIC OMG??? this is really short but i needed to write a harry fic to get the creative juices flowing so thank youuuu for this request, i hope you like this!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

You sat cross-legged on the plush rug of your living room, your acoustic guitar resting comfortably on your lap. The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. Harry was sprawled on the couch opposite you, looking cozy as ever in a green jumper and joggers.

"Are you ready?" you asked, glancing up at him with a mix of excitement and nerves.

"Absolutely, love," Harry smiled at you, "Why do you always get nervous when you're about to play a song for me. It's just me, love"

"Because," you began, running your fingers through the strings of your guitar, "It's a song I wrote about you, and It's really sappy."

"I love sappy," Harry's smile widened, a soft chuckle leaving his lips, "Especially when it's about us, or just you being a simp over me."

You rolled your eyes with affection, "I'm going to start singing before I completely regret it."

"Wait," Harry said before you could start, "Can I record you? It would be a cute memory."

"Of course you can, but don't leak it to TMZ," you joked and he grabbed his phone from the coffee table in front of him, opening his camera.

"I'll keep it just for us, promise." He adjusted himself on the couch, holding his phone up to get a clear view of you. "Alright, ready when you are, my love."

"Okay this is Golden Hour, take one from our living room," you said looking at the camera, "Let's go."

You took a deep breath and began strumming the opening chords of the song you had written your fingers danced across the strings with ease.

All that I know Is you caught me at the right time Keep me in your glow 'Cause I'm havin' such a good time with you

Baby, don't you know That you're my golden hour The color of my sky You set my world on fire And I know, I know everything's gonna be alright

You sang softly, watching as Harry's eyes beamed with happiness and amusement as he listened to the words pouring from your heart.

You kept on singing and playing your guitar, mouthing an "I love you" to Harry before reaching the final chorus, your smile as wide as his.

And when the song came to an end, you let the final chord hang in the air for a moment, and you looked up to see Harry, his expression one of pure adoration.

"That was... beautiful, love," Harry said and he stopped the recording and sat his phone down "You never cease to amaze me. I don't think I've ever felt this loved."

"Harry, stop," you set the guitar gently on the floor and covered your face, "You're going to make me cry."

Harry chuckled, moving from the couch to sit beside you on the rug.

"No need to hide, love. It's just me, remember?" he gently pulled your hands away from your face, holding them in his.

"I know, but still," you murmured, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Well, you should know that your song made me the happiest man alive," he said, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "You have no idea how much I love you."

"I might have an idea," you teased, pecking his lips quickly.

"Now, how about we make this a tradition? You play me a song every week. Deal?"

"Only if you promise to write a song for me too. It's only fair," you raised an eyebrow playfully.

"Oh, it's a deal, love. Just you wait. I'll write the sappiest song you've ever heard," he pecked your lips again, "Or what about the horniest song you've ever heard, huh? What do you prefer, sappy or horny?"

"Your horny songs are all about fruit anyway," you teased again, making him laugh, "I'm happy you liked the song, baby."

"I loved it," he said softly, pulling you into a warm embrace. "And I love you."

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princessbrunette · 5 months

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stepbro!jj 😩😩😩😩 i’d be playing footsies with him at the breakfast table in the morning, acting all coy like he didn’t bend me over his bed last night

i rlly love the idea of reader being the horny sick n twisted one whilst jj is trying desperately to cling onto his morality <333:

•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•

jj was not nonchalant by any stretch of the word, but now sat at the breakfast table — your cunt still aching from the way he’d fucked you through the night, he was seeming to play it incredibly cool and collected. no trace of a knowing smile or secretive glances, just his regular behaviour, sat reclined in his seat wearing his usual get up and a backwards hat. the dismissal would have maybe hurt if it wasn’t turning you on a little.

“i’m headin’ downtown for that AA meetin’. load of horse shit but ‘least i’m tryin’.” luke maybank chats as he messily spreads butter on his toast at the counter, taking a moment to lick some off his thumb. your mother is also rushing around the kitchen ready to head out on her own shift at work— you’re avoiding eye contact with her the most, more shameful of the acts you’d commit under the shared roof only a few hours prior.

“well, we are all proud anyways.” she praises, looking around at you and jj for contribution. you nod, and jj clears his throat, shuffling closer to the table opposite you on his chair.

“yeah, real proud pops.” you can tell it’s difficult for him to say from the way he looks down at his food as he says it.

“don’t get sappy on me, squirt.” luke’s words come muffled through a cheekful of toast, and soon your mother begins to fire overbearing questions at him about the recovery course he’s taking. as they talk, you zone out — eyes flickering to jj who is spooning up soggy cereal onto a spoon.

things felt very familial during moments like this. the whole family going about their regular morning routines, jj and yourself sat opposite at the table like a regular old brother and sister duo. you knew you were sick in the head from wanting your step brother in the first place, and now you were secretly fucking him — the idea that he was able to sit opposite you without a soul knowing he was balls deep earlier on was turning you on once more.

you glance over at luke and your mother, seeing them wrapped up in their own conversations — and you toe at the entrance of jj’s jeans, running your foot along the inner side of his calf. when he looks up at you through a heavy brow, cheek still full with cereal you can tell he’s warning you to stop — but knowing he couldn’t verbally express this, and that any vision of your feet was obstructed by the long gingham table cloth — you felt obliged to continue. no one even notices when jj winces and you giggle, too stuck in their own conversation.

you manage to stretch your leg to get your foot in his lap, briefly rubbing at his cock before he grips your ankle and throws it off him, angrily licking his lips and tensing his jaw, doing a double take at the parents when they turn their heads, the attention attracted by your whiny and dramatic ‘ow!’

luke scoffs out a laugh, walking towards the kitchen exit, shaking his head and spitting into a tin waste bin by the door. you truly wondered what your mother saw in him. “kids, huh. who’d have ‘em.” he comments before exiting, making jj cringe at the general insinuation that the two of you were in any way related, or kids.

your mother is quick to follow, barely sparing the two of you a glance. “i can drop you off some lunch if you’re going to be all day, i finish early and —” her voice trails off before the two of you hear her yell out a goodbye to you and the door closes. jj barely waits for them to be gone to push heavily out of his chair, letting it scrape on the floor and wander over to your side, gripping your jaw from where he stands beside your seat, forcing you to look up at him.

“do you think this is funny? like — i’m almost certain you got some weird fetish for wanting to be caught but i don’t, alright — quit bein’ so obvious.” he scolds before letting you go, quickly lifting his hat to run a hand through his hair as he wanders to the counter to cool off and pour himself a coffee. he was already dressed, set to meet the pogues a little later whilst you wandered around in tiny pyjama shorts and a thin tank top that made him wanna slap you.

you giggle despite his sternness and push out your chair to follow him, poking him in the back as you speak. “oh c’mon jayj, s’just a little fun. no one noticed anyway. you’re acting like i got under the table n’made out with your dick. not a bad idea for next time actually.” you muse jokingly and he all but slams his coffee mug back down to whip around to face you.

“y’know i can just like, confiscate everything i’ve been doin’ for you. s’not hard to find pussy, and if you wanna keep actin’ like an actual annoying little sister i’m gunna start treating you like one.” he ticks his head, squinting in irritation and your eyes widen in faux offence and fear.

“aw, don’t do that to me jj. i thought you liked playing with me.” you pout, and oddly — despite knowing you were playing games with him, it makes him soften the tiniest bit, shoulders falling a centimetre or so.

“well, look— i do…” he rolls his eyes and you smile. taking your hands, you push your tits together, looking up at him with mocking babydoll eyes.

“yeah, just like playing with your lil sis too much, huh?” you coo and he yanks your hands off yourself, tongue in his cheek — clearly losing his patience a little.

“nah, keep it up. you’re not getting shit from me anymore i’m dead serious.” he raises his voice a little, that southern twang jumping out a little extra and you giggle elatedly at the threat. you spin around, pressing your ass to his crotch and looking over your shoulder.

“nuh-uh, you like this view too much.” you tease before your jaw drops, mocking quiet ‘uh-uh-uh-uh’ moans as you repeatedly thump your ass against him, the blonde watching with a deadpan, unimpressed expression and arms folded over his chest. he goes to say something, but the sudden banging of the front door closing wipes the amused expression off your face quicker than he can and you jump up straight, looking like a deer caught in headlights when your mother walks back through the door.

“forgot my keys.” she shakes her head before her eyes land on the two of you standing near eachother, jj looking smug and you looking guilty. “everything… okay?” she raises an eyebrow at the weird atmosphere.

“yes! yeah everything’s fine.” you squeak, sounding oh so innocent and afraid. jj snorts, turning back around to the counter and continuing to pour his coffee.

“well alright, see you guys later.” she smiles before disappearing once more, leaving you looking bashful.

once she’s gone, jj glances over his shoulder at you and pouts, barely concealing his grin.

“aw, that scare ‘ya, lil sis?”

•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•

#anon #stepbro!jj #jj maybank prompt #tw stepcest #tw fauxcest

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moonstruckme · 1 year

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can i request some poly!marauders where reader tells them they love them for the first time… but like sooo passionate and sappy, maybe some tears of relief.. ugh i love your writing sm 😭😭

Of course you can sweetheart, sorry it took me a bit to get to it!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

Lately it’s like you can hardly stop yourself. You’ll get off the phone with James, or Remus will let you run your fingers over his scars, or Sirius will braid your hair for you, and you’ll want to say Ugh, I love you.

In some ways, you feel a bit silly for agonizing over it. You know the boys have been saying it to each other for years, platonically before romantically, so sometimes it feels like you’re a bit behind the curve. Sirius flings it about like he has love in endless supply (and from what you can tell, he does). Evans, you know I love you, but that hat is a crime and You have a great personality, Prongs, but I love those big shoulders most of all and Is that drink for me, Marls? I knew I loved you for a reason. And it’s such a small thing, objectively, just three words in their natural order, but it also feels like sort of a big deal.

You do love them. So much it sometimes feels like your heart swells until it crowds out your lungs and steals your breath, but telling them is no simple matter. Do you tell them together? That feels like making a big deal out of things, like calling a family meeting or something. But if you tell them separately, you’d have to pick an order, and that could only go poorly, too. You don’t want it to be an announcement, though you don’t just want to blurt it out like it’s nothing, either. Maybe it is to some people, maybe even to them (although you don’t think so), but it’s not to you. You’ve never loved anyone like this before, let alone three people. The severity of it had hit you like a truck, all at once, vaulting you into love faster than you could catch your breath.

It's a new feeling to you, this romantic sort of love, but you have enough acumen to recognize magic when you feel it. No matter how much you hate being at the center of attention, you aren't going to trivialize that.

The confession tempts your tongue now, sitting on the bathroom counter with Sirius between your legs and James sitting on the floor beside him.

“I just think you would look cute with a couple little braids.” Sirius’ breath fans your face as he speaks, one hand on your cheek to keep you still as he does your eyeliner.

“I don’t want to look cute,” James argues. “And everyone else thinks my hair looks great as it is, thank you.”

“Cute isn’t the right word. Rakish. Kind of like a pirate.”

“You can’t change the terminology to fool me. I look rakish every day, don’t I Moony?”

“You do.” Remus comes to lean in the open doorway, pulling on his socks. “Though I do think a braid would be fun to try, sometime.”

Sirius takes only a moment to relish in this small triumph before he's frowning. “You are not wearing that to the party.”

Remus looks down at his faded green sweater. “It looks like I am. I don’t intend to shiver during the walk there.”

Sirius scoffs, and James, spotting a pot to stir, says, “I like you in that sweater, actually.”

Remus knows exactly what his boyfriend is doing, but he smirks anyway. “Thank you, Prongs. It’s like we’re his little projects, aren’t we? At least someone doesn’t want to change me.”

Everyone’s eyes find you, waiting to see what side you’ll pick. You burn under the spotlight. “I think you look great either way.” You shrug, but stop when Sirius hisses sharply, his grip tightening on your face.

Remus eyes you, something searching in his gaze that you don’t like. You can never hide a thought for long before he susses you out. But to your surprise, it’s Sirius who says, “You okay, sweet thing? You’re being even quieter than usual. You still want to go, yeah?”

“Yeah, I wanna go,” you say quickly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, finishing up with your eyeliner and stepping back to look at you. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You squirm, pinned like a butterfly beneath his gaze. “It’s nothing, it’s silly.”

A poor choice. Now you have everyone’s full attention.

“I’m sure it’s not silly.” James smiles at you encouragingly. “What is it?”

You start to pick at your nails, but Sirius' eyes narrow at them, and you stop. “I just…I’ve been thinking lately.”

A beat passes before Remus fills the silence. “That’s always a good thing,” he says slowly, amusedly. “C’mon, dove, out with it.”

This isn’t how you wanted this to go. You’re on the spot. It’s going to feel like a forced confession. They’re expecting something silly and light—I just don’t feel like my outfit is going to work for tonight—and you feel like you’re about to drop a bomb on them in comparison.

In the end, you give yourself away before you say the words. “Okay, I’m gonna tell you something, and I just need you to know I mean it, but I don’t need it to be…reciprocated.”

Sirius cocks his head at you, and you decide to burst the bubble of tension before it can expand any further.

“Just, I love you.”

And maybe you wanted it to be like when Sirius says it, like he’s thrown confetti and everyone seems brighter and happier for it, but each word falls heavily from your lips, landing at the feet of your boyfriends for them to decide what to do with. Why did you add in a “just”? There’s nothing just about this. It’s a humiliating attempt at downplaying the phrase, and painfully ineffective too. You feel like you could light yourself on fire with the intensity of your embarrassment.

"Argh, sweetheart,” James says after an impossibly long beat, “I wanted to say it first.”

“No fucking way.” Sirius whirls on him. “You were gonna say it and you didn’t tell me? I was waiting for one of you to do it first.”

“Dove,” Remus says, relaxing against the doorframe, “I think we’ve all been feeling the same way for some time. Thank you for having the confidence to say it first.”

You beam so hard your cheeks start to hurt almost instantly. “Yeah?”

“Color me impressed,” Sirius says. “This whole time you've played coy, but you’ve got more balls than any of the rest of us, haven’t you?” He pauses. “Wait, are you crying?”

“Oh, um, I guess so,” you reply when you touch a fingertip to your lower lashes and it comes away wet. “I’m just relieved, I guess. I was pretty nervous.”

Sirius grabs some toilet paper, pressing a wad under each of your eyes. “Well shit, don’t fuck up your eyeliner, baby. It was never that dire, not like anyone wasn’t going to say it back.”

“Well, I wasn’t going in with any expectations,” you mumble, holding your makeshift tissues.

“Sweetheart,” James whines, his bottom lip beginning to tremble sympathetically. “How could you think we wouldn't? I love you so much.”

“I love you so much,” you counter, laughing even as the paper under your eyes grows damp. “I’ve been wanting to say it forever. I feel so lucky to have you guys, you know?”

Remus crosses the room, forcing you to discard your toilet paper clumps as he takes your face in his hands, kissing your salty cheeks. “We’re lucky to have found you,” he says, and the words are even, sure. “I don’t say it often enough, but I love you all too. You’re everything to me.”

“Oh, fuck all of you,” Sirius says, blinking rapidly to save his own sparkly eyeliner. “Obviously you’re the best things that’ve ever happened to me. Pricks.”

Your laugh is wet, and you wonder if you’re peaking right now or if you’ll be this happy forever. With the three of them around you, you’re betting on the latter. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Think you could fix my makeup before we go, Siri? Please?”

He huffs, but the kiss he presses to your lips is syrupy sweet. “We are going to be well past fashionably late.”

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o-sachi · 2 months

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Where Love Grows - Drabble for WinBre Week!

ᯓ oh to grow old and plant tomatoes on your farm together... ᯓ character; umemiya hajime (wind breaker) ᯓ tags; aged up (but just because growing old and in love makes me sappy), FLUFF, afab reader, no y/n

[🐟]: for the day 1 - garden prompt! @windbreakerweek

You've been calling out his name for a while now, yet you received no response. There was no mistake that he was out here, tending to the plants again. Sometimes he gets so immersed in it that he fails to notice how hot it is. The duty of reminding him and hauling him back in the house has been designated to you.

You had to be careful, especially at this age. Getting a heatstroke and keeling over in the middle of the scorching heat would be terrible after all.

"Hajime!" you call out again. Just how far away was he from the house?

If only you knew he'd be this irresponsible, you would have stopped him from buying a land with this huge of a farm. Or maybe not... you could never find it in yourself to turn him down—not when he's smiling so earnestly at you.

You click your tongue, feeling tired from just stepping through the rows of crops the two of you worked hard to nurture. "Hajime! Where are you?"

Finally. You see head of white hair poking out from a few rows away from you. Your eyes met each other's and despite your annoyance, a smile creeps on your face. He was a hardheaded man, but seeing the joys of a simple life reflected on his face made your heart swell.

"You missed me already? I've only been out for an hour," he teases with the familiar twinkle in his eyes.

"Say whatever you want, darling. I'd prefer if you stay inside for now and drank some water."

He stood up, dusting his pants. But it was all in naught because he wiped his dirty hands on his white tee anyway. It was a habit of his and at this point it was impossible to correct.

"I'll be inside in a sec. Just need to—" he pauses to stretch his back. "Relocate some of these tomatoes somewhere else."

He never said a thing, but you noticed in his mannerisms that his back was giving him trouble lately. You stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on his aching back.

"How about we do it together later when it's not so hot?"

Hajime sighs, glancing over at the tomatoes that shone a bit under the sun. He'd prefer to get it over with, but he couldn't pass up on the chance to do some farm work with you. "Alright, fine. Let's head back for now."

Even though his hands were covered in soil, you squeezed it hard when he held yours. There was an inexplicable feeling when he'd take you by the hand and lead you around the farm. It reminded you when the two of you were younger—you'd run around the empty parts of the field, giggling like idiots.

It wasn't possible now because the two of you had filled most of the land with healthy and beautiful crops. As nostalgic as it was, you loved how fulfilled it seemed. It was like a testament to your marriage and to your love.

"Sometimes I miss being young," he starts, as if he read your mind. "Back then I'd have no trouble crouching down all day and taking care of my plants."

You squeezed his hand in reassurance once more. "All that fighting getting to you now huh?"

A rich chuckle erupts from his chest. "Guess you're right, darling. But I don't regret a single thing."

The two of you continue your trek back to the house. The sun still shone brightly, but his body blocked it. All you could see was his broad back—the same back that carried Furin and your family on its shoulders.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you hadn't noticed that you were already at the fence that separated the main house from the farm. Hajime easily unlocked the gate with one hand and it opened with the creaking sound you've heard everyday for the past 20 or so years you've been living here.

That gate had a Pavlov effect on you. Whenever you heard it, you knew that Hajime was done farming and that you'd have to wait by him at the door where he'd collect his end-of-the-day kiss.

It seems like the kids have caught on to it as well. As soon as the gate closed, they were already there—running towards their beloved parents. A little girl and a little boy went to either parent and gave them a hug.

You had other older kids who had moved out some time ago. These two came later in your lives. Initially, you were worried, but Hajime got rid of your fears.

"The more the merrier!" he would say. Hajime did love kids after all.

He pat both of their heads. "Hehe, you guys missed me too? Your mama sure did."

"Hajime..."

He feigns innocence. "Mama missed me, right? She got all grumpy again, didn't she?"

The two rascals, who took after their father (way too much), nodded along. You playfully narrowed your eyes at them.

Hajime sure loved your reactions to your family banter. He clapped his hands. "Alright. Let's go inside and make some orange juice."

"Yeah! Orange juice!" the kids cheered in unison.

"Let's all go to the farm together later hm? How about that?" Hajime asked the kids as they began walking back to the house.

You were left to stand a good distance away from them—admiring your kids and the man that helped you raise them. He turned back to look at you, smiling and gesturing for you to come along.

Well... you've truly come a long way.

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #hajime umemiya #umemiya x reader #wind breaker week #fish does winbre week

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cashmoneyyysstuff · 3 months

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𓏲 ࣪₊♡ what i think katsuki n’ shouto would listen to !♡𓏲 ࣪₊

a/n : so I had this ready..but Tumblr fuckin ate the og ask..so anon if ur still sticking around (this was sent to me before I want on my break :(() ily !! and I hope you enjoy ! and all of y'all too off ! 3K WE UP !!

katsuki ♡

for some reason, i cannot get the image of katsuki listening to nobody by skindred out of my head LMFAOOO

(maybe bc ive been listening to it non stop)

so anyways i think you can tell that i'm feeling very metal for him,, nu metal, heavy metal, groove metal he's all for it ! i don't see him being particularly picky about it.

i think he'd listen to deftones, slipknot, skindred and korn ! i think he also has other similar bands in his playlist but i see these as most of his mains !

katsuki's a renowned little shit, so he'll share his earbuds with you, have you thinking he's on some cute shit only for him to hide his phone screen from you to jumpscare with a hyper loud song so he can snicker about it like a mountain troll💀

so yeah he's extremely irritating. of course if ur into it yall jam out together !!

buuuut on the other hand he definitely is a rap/hip hop and r&b typa guy !

i can definitely see him listening to some mf doom, tupac and DEFINITELY kendrick lamar oh em gee

pls don't get me started on r&b,,,i know he'd love him some brent faiyaz..teehehehe <3

i feel like he'd really like frank ocean and tyler the creator ! i feel like he wouldn't be a hyper fan, but he has a lot of songs in his playlist !

don't ask me why yall,,,but tell me why i see him listening to fugees and erykah badu...dreamy sigh

so yeah he'll jumpscare the shit outta you with his loud music, but most of the time when he's not being a nuisance he'll happily share his earbud with you and put on some sappy soul song to subtly tell you he love you cus hes shy lolol

a lot of the songs he listens to he relates to so,, if he plays the intro of all mine by brent faiyaz.. KNOW ITS ABOUT YOUUU!!!

shouto♡

now shouto's a lil trickier for me..i feel like he likes to experiment w new music genres sometimes, but he has his lil favourites yaknow??

i like thinking he'd listen to steve lacy and frank ocean ! he has a few select songs that he likes the most ! he gives me infrunami n' mercury typa vibes

it feels the best for me to say he'd listen to indie rock/pop (sorry if these aren't the right terms yall it's googles fault if they aint😭)

i feel like he fucks w the smiths HEAVY. i also see him listening to the cure ! he also gives me smells like teen spirit by nirvana !

like i said i feel like he likes to experiment cus lemme be honest i feel he's messy😭 like his playlist is a clusterfuck

there is no sad playlist or casual playlist like everything is in one playlist LMFAOOO

but no yeah he doesn't care much, which is why i think if you put him on the good shit you might see some pink pantheress n some laufey in there LMFAOO

if you recommend a song to him it's probably in there before you can blink lololol

shouto also starts copying your playlist after a while lolol soon you'll start thinking you have your phone when you scroll thru his playlist but nah💀

i also see him listening to mitski..need i say more ?

this was such a cute ask and it was rlly fun to do !! if you guys have any questions like these PLEAASSEEE feel free to ask me !!! tysm for the ask anon n' m'sorry it took me so long to respond ! i'm gettin' to all your asks one at a time, so please be patient with me <3 !!!

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erzva · 4 months

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big fan of pussy drunk ! luffy..

. . .

its canon to me idk

like if your brain doesn’t register this as canon or something that’s very in character for luffy you’re just wrong

although i do also definitely see him as aroace or think he could be aroace

but if i were to strictly hc him as aroace it wouldn’t really be any fun for me, a luffy lover.

so i also see him as someone who loves sex. not in a weird way. he just loves you and making you feel good. and feeling good himself. + it’s so fun. everyone knows luffy is weak to things that are fun. idk i just think he would enjoy sex a lot with the person he loves.

or i can honestly also see him being aromantic but pansexual. and just liking sex as an activity. he’s a very active kid so, again, i think he would enjoy sex. bc sex can be fun and intimate and enjoyable

like there’s no way he wouldn’t wanna try it. he loves trying new things. you’re telling me he wouldn’t go feral after his first time with you? you opened his mind to something new and very fun

he’ll be asking for sex all the time now.

this man is mischievous and annoying. he does whatever he sets his mind to

so there’s not really telling him no.

ofc he won’t force you

but he’s exceptionally skilled at getting people to do whatever he wants.

he’ll make you come around sooner or later

because once he’s set on wanting to bury his cock into your warm cunt, he won’t stop until he gets to do it

he will start whining and begging if you don’t give him what he wants right away

especially if you give a lame excuse like “the others will hear” or “what if someone walks in”. if you pull any of tha, he knows he can be annoying and pushy.

but he also knows when you’re serious about your ‘excuses’ or “no’s” so he’d just drop it and opt for the second best thing in the world after meat: you. touching you, hugging you, clinging to you.

bc even if he can’t have sex with you, which is always so much fun and feels good- he doesn’t mind because it’s not important to him. being with you is enough

and honestly you were only truly against having sex very rarely. like when you were feeling unwell or it was an unfitting moment or whatnot. but you liked having him work for it. because you know that eventually he’ll start being whiny and desperate. oh and how you loved desperate luffy. begging with his big dark chocolate brown eyes.. and whining into your ear while rubbing himself on you, trying to hide what’s going on by disguising it as a hug so it doesn’t look too suspicious to your poor crewmates who unfortunately already know what he’s doing anyway..

until you finally give in and give him what he wants only for him to give you the biggest most genuine sunshine smile ever. his eyes widening at you giving him the go. it’s probably what you love most about him. his smile and how his entire face lights up..

however when it’s just the two of you in the captains chambers his expression turns dark and serious very fast. usually with a hint of mischief but not always. he can be very serious in moments like this too. you made him wait long enough. no time for silliness

there’s two types of pussydrunk ! luffy

he goes feral and it’s messy, chaotic and desperate. fast and rough, anything to get the two of you to reach climax.

slow loving sensual passionate sex. the kind of sex that really shows how much you love one another. the kind everyone dreams about. it feels good and it’s emotional

whenever he just wants to have fun and feel good, he’ll opt for the first version. the kissing would be hungry, passionate and desperate. he’ll be kissing and sucking on your neck and groping you harshly to get you wet. he’s impatient and just wants to cum deep inside of you. but not before he gets to lap at your delicious cunt. first things first. luffy never starts penetration without getting you nice and wet with his tongue beforehand.

but when he’s feeling sappy and emotional and loving the sex would be very sensual. but not necessarily slow. you still wanna cum after all. but the foreplay would be a lot more soft and gentle and he would take his time with you. kissing you everywhere thoroughly and massaging your flesh.

he doesnt only get pussydrunk for his cock inside your cunt though

he also gets pussy drunk when eating you out

oftentimes wanting to go more than one round

usually sex with him includes making out heavily, him eating your cunt, penetration / you grinding on him / you giving him a hand or blowjob- and then him eating you out again.

he is a MUNCH. he’s gonna be all up in your pussy

i mean he loves eating and never cared about what he looks like while eating (which is usually very chaotic and dirty) so you bet he’s gonna be just as messy when it comes to you and your cunt

he buries his face so deep in your pussy it’s overstimulating sometimes because he doesn’t stop once you cum. he stops when he wants to stop

sex isn’t sex without him getting a taste of you

and he oftentimes only wants to eat your pussy

keyword being “eat” bc it really does feel like he’s eating you alive (in the best most fulfilling way possible)

craziest head game in the entire op universe

he eats you out before going to sleep a lot. ‘helps him sleep better’ he claims

but he also wants to eat you out when he wakes up

he’s still groggy and tired and not really awake at all so he asks you to let him burry his face in your sweet warm cunt so he can ‘have a good day’ and also because it ‘helps him become more awake’

sure..

maybe you really do help him that way.. or maybe they’re mostly cheap excuses

and usually him being pussydrunk on eating you out leads to him wanting to burry his cock inside of you

because licking and tasting you is just so arousing. it makes him so hard and needy, always rutting his hips into the mattress while his tongue’s all over you. you taste like nothing he’s ever tasted before and he can’t get enough of it. he loves smelling and tasting your pussy. it makes him desperate, whiny and feral

you are never left feeling unsatisfied with luffy as your man

. . .

#. op works #. luffy #. luffy hc #. luffy smut #luffy headcanons #monkey d. luffy smut #luffy x reader #luffy smut #luffy x female reader #luffy x you #monkey d. luffy x reader #x reader

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