#i blame the wedding stuff

[shadowtriovibes]

hello lovely ☺️ how abouuuut #26 for the shadow trio?

"please… say something.” [sebastian x mc x ominis]

—

It had been approximately three months since you and Sebastian had started making Ominis’ life a living hell.

To be exact, it had been two months, three weeks, and four days. But it’s not as if he’s counting, of course. Because if he were counting, that would be utterly pathetic, and Ominis Gaunt is not some pathetic fool mooning over his best friend’s girlfriend.

…Except that he might be.

Because approximately three months ago, you and Sebastian had shown up at breakfast with mussed hair and wrinkled clothes and eagerly broke the news to Ominis that you’d confessed your feelings for each other the very night before.

(You hadn’t needed to tell him that you’d been holed up in the Room of Requirement ever since, because Sebastian hadn’t come back to the dormitory that night.)

“We want you to be the first to know,” you had told him softly, reaching for his hand.

Ominis had sharply drawn his hand back. “W-well, um. I suppose… congratulations are in order.”

He didn’t see how you’d frowned and hunched in on yourself disappointedly, or how Sebastian had blushed guiltily and opened his mouth as if to explain further before thinking better of it and staying silent.

Ominis had simply poked at his breakfast, unsure why the most obvious thing in the world – the two of you making things official, finally admitting that you’re mad about each other – had made him feel like he was going to be sick.

It took a few more weeks to figure it out, but by the time Ominis realized that he was in love with you too, it was much too late to say anything. A gentleman never would, especially not with how happy Sebastian seems to make you.

Then it took another month for him to recognize that the possessive, jealous feelings he felt whenever you coaxed Sebastian away from spending time with him weren’t exactly indicative of a platonic friendship, either.

So Ominis remains silent whenever the two of you murmur sweet nothings to each other during your shared lectures, or when he catches you snogging when you’re supposed to be studying by the fire in the common room, or even when you both slip away after dinner and don’t resurface until Sebastian sneaks back into the seventh-year boys’ dormitory with all the grace of a drunken Graphorn.

He could endure it, he thought.

…Except that lately, you and Sebastian seem to be determined to flaunt your happiness whenever possible. Just last week Sebastian had invited him to Hogsmeade for an afternoon that made him feel like a pitiful third wheel, and you’ve offered up the Room of Requirement multiple times for “extra Charms practice,” as if he’d even dare let himself in without knocking – thrice.

It eventually comes to a head when he comes back to the dormitory after his last class of the day to grab an extra bottle of ink for his dictation quill and hears moaning the second he opens the door.

“Merlin’s beard!” he exclaims, lingering awkwardly in the doorway.  “This is a shared space, Sebastian.”

“We thought you had class,” he calls out lazily.

You’re giggling softly and he hears the sound of rustling sheets. He can’t decide if he’s never hated being blind more than in this moment, or if he’s never appreciated it so greatly.

“I did,” he hisses. “But I ran out of ink. Also, it’s the middle of the afternoon. Do the two of you have any decency?”

“Not so much, no,” Sebastian drawls.

“We’re sorry, Ominis,” you offer, but it doesn’t sound like you’re particularly apologetic.

He curses under his breath and aggressively aims his wand toward his corner of the room, hoping to avoid having to visualize how your bodies are intertwined. (As though he isn’t already picturing it in his mind, he thinks ruefully.)

“I’ll just get some ink and then I’ll be going,” he mumbles.

But before he can pull out his spare bottle from his desk, you hesitantly offer, “If you want, you could stay.”

He very nearly drops his wand. “Wh-what?”

“I said, you could stay here with us,” you repeat. 

You carefully climb out of Sebastian’s bed and cross the room to where Ominis is standing completely frozen. The pale red light pulsing at the end of his wand glances off your bare skin.

Merlin, you’re naked, he thinks.

“Ominis, we’ve been trying to talk to you about this for ages,” you tell him softly.

This time when you reach for his hand, he lets you take it – mostly out of shock, mind you.

“Sebastian and I, we’ve been thinking…” you start. “Since you and I first met, it’s always been the three of us, and it hasn’t felt right without you these past few months.”

Ominis frowns. “What are you suggesting?”

“I’m suggesting you might be a bit daft,” Sebastian says casually. “We’ve tried bringing you to Hogsmeade for Butterbeers to loosen you up, inviting you up to the Room of Requirement for a little ‘practice,’ but nothing seems to be getting through to you.”

“I’ve been insisting for weeks that we needed to be more direct with you, but Sebastian wanted to take things slow,” you say ruefully. “...Obviously it didn’t seem to be working, so letting you ‘catch’ us seems to have done the trick.”

Ominis is completely lost.

“We want you, Ominis,” you finally tell him. “We want this relationship to be the three of us, in every way.”

“That’s… that’s preposterous,” Ominis breathes. “That’s not even… three people in a relationship together, it’s – it’s untoward. Deviant, even.”

“Why?” you ask softly, lifting his hand to press it against your bare hip. “Why can’t it be sincere? We love you, Ominis. We have for a long time.

I love you too, he wants to say.

But what you’re suggesting… It’s beyond inappropriate. He’s not sure he’s ever heard of a relationship like this, shared equally by three lovers. It doesn’t seem possible, or even imaginable.

…Except he does imagine it. Merlin, he’s imagined it so many times, until he felt like his depraved thoughts must surely be the work of some scheming succubus.

“Please, say something,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Ominis,” Sebastian calls out from the bed. “We’re not complete without you.”

He whines softly and lets his head tip forward – a clear demonstration of surrender. He’s only a man, and he can only protest so much when the girl for whom he’d quickly fallen head over heels and the boy he’d gradually come to adore over many years of friendship are calling him to their bed.

You gently take his other hand to slip his wand from his grasp and rest it on his desk. Then you press his free hand to your waist and nose along his sharp cheekbone until he lets you press a tender kiss to his lips. He assumes you’ve deduced that he’s never been touched like this before, judging by how gingerly you’re guiding his hands as he explores the curves of your body.

You’re so warm, he thinks. You’re entirely softness and warmth beneath his fingertips – so different from the other body in the room, defined by firm muscles and faded dueling scars that Ominis has visualized many times but never touched. 

“Come to bed,” you whisper against his mouth.

“S’not a very big bed,” he mumbles back.

“Fair point,” Sebastian agrees, and even though Ominis can’t see it, he knows he’s sporting that ever-present cocky grin. “But I think we can make do just this once.”

[transgnckon]

Seeing all the photos of little me with little mermaid stuff is so funny

[angel---eater]

we wna write our godstuck au sooooo bad but man the full thing would be a required taste for sure

[thebumblecee]

I submitted something to my beta who sent me the reaction “aww I didn’t know you were writing romance.” 💀💀💀

[onepiexe]

LOL thanks boss. like genuinely. this seems sarcastic but its genuine for once in my life.

[natasha-in-space]

The Beginning of the End

Series: 'A Wilted Daffodil' (AO3 link): Ch. 1 (you are here!), Ch. 2;

Characters/pairing: Rika/cmc Chaewon Lee, Jihyun Kim;

Summary: Everyone experiences grief differently. The loss of a loved one can be both debilitating and overwhelming, leaving you with no idea how to continue living without them. Chaewon is familiar with the grieving process of families and loved ones. Unfortunately, working as a nurse comes with the responsibility of bearing witness to some very tragic events. But she never thought she would have to see her own dear friend crushed by a sudden loss nobody has ever seen coming.

CW for: pet loss, grief;

Credits: picrew by wagirain, dividers by @/saradika-graphics.

"-She got run over, Chaewon, she's dead, and it's all my fault. I knew it. I knew I should've listened to Jumin! Why did I ever think that I knew better what she truly needed...? She must've suffered so much... And I couldn't do anything for her, I couldn't save her...!"

Chaewon felt a terrible chill run down her spine as she held the phone up to her ear nimbly. Rika's voice sounded so utterly broken and anguished that she could practically feel her dear friend's breath getting caught in her throat as she stumbled over her words in hysterics. A heavy lump of dread suddenly blocked her airways, taking her voice away from her. She felt her entire body freezing up completely as all that she could do in the moment was just stand there, not knowing what to do or what to say.

Sally meant everything to Rika. Chaewon understood that Sally was not just a beloved dog, she was much more than that. Before herself, RFA, or even Jihyun, Sally was Rika's loyal companion and first source of comfort when she needed it most. She knew that much from the many conversations her and Rika had shared. To lose someone like that... in such a horrendous and abrupt way nonetheless...

Oh God, she was starting to get really scared for Rika now. Who knew what she would do in such a vulnerable state of mind?

She clenched her free hand into a tight fist, her fingernails digging into the skin of her palm, until she had to hold herself back from wincing. At the very least, this enabled her to keep her head above water and avoid complete freeze-up. Swallowing down the lump in her throat, she pushed through the paralyzing unease snaking its invisible tendrils around her body and mind, and spoke up, sounding uncharacteristically stuttery and high-pitched for her usual tone of voice. She would feel embarrassed about it, if not for the horrible situation at hand keeping all of her focus away.

"...Rika, listen to me, just- stay on the phone with me, alright? Are you at home? I'm coming right over. Just- Hold on for me, okay? I... I'll be right there. It'll be okay. I promise," Chaewon muttered hurriedly into the phone as she sprinted off from the supply closet she had tucked herself into to take this call as fast as her legs could carry her. Her heart was pounding in her chest with so much force, she was afraid it might just stop beating altogether. And, she couldn't allow that. Not right now. The words she spoke sounded extremely foolish. Of course it won't be okay. It won't ever be okay. But, she didn't know what else to say. She needed time to think, but she didn't have that luxury right now.

So, she ran.

Everything else was lost in the haze of panic, confusion, and frustration. It was probably incredibly reckless and irresponsible of her to just abandon her nursing post like this, especially right at the beginning of her night shift. But she barely gave a single thought about that right now, however selfish it was on her part. Nothing was more important than getting to Rika's side as fast as humanely possible. Before something bad could happen. Before she becomes even more afflicted than she already is, in any way or another. Chaewon was always a self-centered person, in the end. She accepted that. But Rika... Rika gave so much of herself away in order to help others, to make people smile, to give them hope for a better future.

Rika was not even comparable to Chaewon, and consequently, she did not deserve to experience such a terrible loss alone.

It was truly a miracle that she didn't get hit on her way there. Her driving was extremely erratic and dangerous. She won't be at all surprised to find a notification about a fine or two for exceeding the speed limit once this all blows over. Even if she knew, deep down, that it won't. And that was scary to think about. She told herself that she was just panicking, and that's why this harrowing feeling was scratching at her insides like a caged wild animal. The feeling of something going horribly wrong. The feeling of things collapsing and never being the same again.

Chaewon ignored it.

She was able to reach Jihyun's secluded home safely and with her car intact, thanks to pure luck. Feeling relieved wasn't possible for her, however. None of it truly mattered once she saw Rika's small trembling frame sitting all alone at the front porch, her head tucked tightly into her knees, almost like she was trying to curl herself up into the tiniest human ball imaginable. It looked painful. Chaewon was sure her back must have hurt from staying in such an unnatural position. How long had she even been like that? Seeing Rika like this broke her heart. Usually, she'd get greeted by cheerful barking and her friend's soft giggling, as she stepped through the front gate to usher her inside for a cup of fresh pomegranate tea. Now, Chaewon heard nothing but the heartbreaking sounds of hoarse sobs and labored breathing. It all felt like a big, horrible nightmare she would wake up from any minute now. Her only wish was to wake up. Oh, how she wished for this to be nothing but a cruel trick of the mind.

However, this was a reality. She had no choice but to confront it head on.

Chaewon rushed towards Rika, clumsily squatting on her knees in front of her on the pavement, her hands stopping only inches from touching her. It didn't matter that her pants were now soiled from the damp ground from the rain. It didn't matter that she accidentally grazed her hand against the edge of the wooden door that hung right open - another thing that was horribly out of place. It was as if the entire world has faded from existence, leaving only her suffering friend and the deafening sound of her own blood pumping in her temples, making it very hard to focus. She was genuinely beginning to suspect that she was on the brink of a panic attack, and she had the urge to curse outloud at the realization. Of all the times she could loose her cool, this one just had to happen.

But... She was scared.

Chaewon was incapable of providing comfort to others. She could treat a nasty-looking physical wound and not bat an eye at the blood and gore, she could fight off a bully just fine, or she come to someone's defense with a strong word or two without a second thought. But... such fragile and emotionally driven ordeals? Rika's forte was always those things. Or Jihyun's, for that matter, as much as she hated to admit that. Yet another reason why that man would always be better than her in one way or another. But, this was not the occasion for her pity party. Rika, she needs her right now. And any comfort would still be better than no comfort at all. At least, she hoped so. She didn't come here for no reason.

Don't worry about it, just do it.

"...Rika? We should-"

She failed to finish her sentence.

"-She's gone forever now, Chaewon, and it's all my fault! I'm never going to see her again. I didn't even... I didn't even get to give her any proper goodbye. She must have died in so much pain, so scared, feeling so betrayed and alone... I can't... I can't handle this. Not without her. Oh, Sally... My Sally..." Rika sobbed, choking on every painful word crawling up from her raw throat, almost like it was her own words tearing at her trachea, rather than the globus sensation that appears during emotionally vexing situations. Some part of Chaewon felt gross that she was applying her medical knowledge even in such an emotional situation. She felt like it was wrong of her. Still, Rika's breathing was growing more and more ragged with every passing second, and she needed to try and fix that. Or, at the very least, mitigate. She was aware that this was bad. This was very bad. She never saw Rika like this before. So vulnerable, so... so hurt.

She tried to tame her voice by swallowing shakily. This isn't good enough. She needed to ask: "Does V-"

Once more, Chaewon was interrupted. She was beginning to believe that she would not be able to achieve anything at this rate.

"-I thought she would be fine on her own. I thought I was doing the right thing... I swear, I-I took my eyes off of her for just a moment! I never imagined... Oh God, I couldn't do anything. Not a single thing!"

"Rika, please, you need to listen to-"

"-I wish... I-I wish it was me who got hit by that car instead! She was so much more deserving of a chance to live! She was good! Not me! I killed her! I... I hate myself. I hate myself for letting her die-!"

"-Rika! Stop it!"

As if she was on impulse, she darted close and tightened her grip on Rika's shoulders, feeling her heart dropping all the way into her stomach at such frightful words. She was experiencing pure panic at this point. Her hands were trembling. Her hands never trembled like this before. What is her responsibility here? What should she say?

Her voice was breaking, every word slipping off her tongue before she could even process them. She couldn't think straight. This was not good. She didn't act rationally whenever she got like this. She would just make everything worse, "Don't you ever say such things again! This is not your fault! These sorts of things happen all the time! Please, you had no play in any of this!"

"How can you even say that!? You weren't there!" Rika shouted back, but it sounded more like a broken wail than an angry scream. Despite everything, Chaewon's heart still hurt, "You don't know how much she suffered, you don't know what pain she was in! If I had just given her that surgery, none of this would have happened!"

Chaewon tried to calm her racing mind by running a hand through her messy black locks, which have gotten damp from the light rain trickling down on them from above. This wasn't good. She was handling this poorly, as expected. She needed to get herself together, think of something, anything. Screaming and arguing won't get her anywhere. This isn't a debate.

"...Sally wouldn't have wanted to see you blaming yourself like this, Rika," in a hushed voice, she murmured, releasing a soft sigh to calm her nerves before continuing, "She was loved by you. More than I've ever seen anyone love their pet before. And you were loved by her, too. You are still loved by her."

The tiny little sound almost that came from Rika as a response almost made Chaewon cry herself, as her friend whimpered. Rika appeared like a small helpless child, feeling scared, lost, and confused after losing something she had never expected to lose. It was absolutely heartwrenching to see.

"...I don't deserve her love. It all feels so empty. Like a part of me was ripped away, and it hurts. It hurts so much, Chaewon. I thought I was used to this pain, but... but it's too much."

She had a desire to have a separate conversation with Rika about that. There was always a part of her that knew there was more to the lighthearted beautiful woman she fell in love with a year ago. Some part of her that felt concerned about all the tiny signs she pretended not to notice, since Rika never brought them up. Some part of her that longed to be the one to ease Rika's wounded heart. But... Wouldn't that be selfish of her? Feeling wanted by someone who had only seen her as a close friend was all she wanted. It wasn't right for her to be greedy. Especially right now. Rika had Jihyun. Jihyun brought her happiness. Jihyun was supposed to make her happy.

Otherwise... what point was there in her just standing by all this time?

Without pause, Chaewon gently stroked the side of Rika's face with her fingers, discovering her skin to be damp and cold. As if the misery she was experiencing on the inside was slowly evolving and transforming what was on the outside to match its cruel image. It hurt her heart to see.

"Please don't say that..." What else could she possibly say? She couldn't bring Sally back. She couldn't ask her not to cry. She was incapable of making it all right. She felt so frustrated and helpless. If only she could take away even the smallest portion of this pain Rika was feeling and redirect it onto herself instead, she would've done so without a second thought.

"I hate this... Why did she have to suffer like this...? Why couldn't she just live a peaceful and happy life? She was good... She was pure. Not like me. What did she ever do to deserve such a horrible death? Why does God always hurt those that are innocent in such cruel ways!?"

Chaewon was uncertain about what to say to that. Rika didn't seem to be listening to her at this point. She just breathed out shakily, pulling herself up to sit beside her and carefully rest her chin atop of Rika's head, once she knew she wouldn't push her away. If only her embrace could protect her from all the pain in this world.

If only it was that simple.

"She's not in pain anymore... I promise," that was all she could muster up, however clumsy it was. In a somewhat awkward embrace, she gently held Rika's small trembling frame close. She did not compel her to release her knees or raise her head. She just wanted to make her feel that she wasn't alone right now. A small sigh escaped her, as she could feel a small damp spot slowly forming in her shirt, where Rika buried her face in, her entire body wracked with painful sobs. She wished their first embrace had not occurred under such heartbreaking circumstances, "...It wasn't your fault."

It might be more effective to be truthful instead of improvising. Rika's head was now being carefully caressed by her, and Chaewon noticed that her normally soft and beautiful golden locks were tangled and rough to the touch. It made her purse her lips tightly in displeasure: "Rika... I want to help you. In any way I can. Please... tell me what should I do. I... I don't know. I need you to tell me."

"J-Just stay. Don't leave. Please," Although Rika's voice was barely audible, she still managed to hear what she was saying. The sensation of her fingers digging into her shoulders was intense, almost to the point of being painful. She didn't care, "I'm scared..."

"Don't be. I'm here. I'm right here," Chaewon mumbled, pulled her friend close, and just let her cry. Maybe there wasn't any need for words right now. She didn't know. She just knew that she wouldn't leave her alone in such a state, "I'll be here for as long as you need me to be."

After an hour had passed, Chaewon heard a car screeching to halt near the front entrance of the house, followed by hurried footsteps. She wasn't at all surprised to see the tall man with messy mint hair once she lifted her head up from where it had loyally remained on Rika's for the past hour. A silent moment of sorrow and mutual understanding passed between the two, nothing but the sound of Jihyun's ragged breaths and the quiet pitter-patter of rain filling the air around them.

It looks like she's not the only one who dropped everything to come as soon as possible.

"...Is she...?"

"I think she fell asleep," Chaewon quietly responded, not even bothering to listen to the entire question. Rika was probably exhausted, both physically and mentally, from the immense stress she had to go through in the past few hours. No wonder she eventually just drifted off to sleep. Perhaps, it was better for her to just not think about anything for a while and sleep.

Jihyun sighed, his hands shaking noticeably while he fumbled with the corners of his jacket. Chaewon felt comforted to know that she wasn't the only one feeling overwhelmed by this situation, in an ironic sense. Finally, he spoke up again, carefully sitting down on the same porch her and Rika were nestled upon, his hand carefully brushing a strand of his fiance's hair behind her ear. There was genuine heartache in his eyes, and she had to look away from the scene dejectedly: "I came as soon as I heard. I... Is she okay? Did she..."

Chaewon believed that his question had a greater significance than simply expressing concern for his lover's well-being. She tried to get rid of that strange thought, but it persisted in the back of her mind, like a parasite slowly extending its tentacles into her mind.

It appeared that he was asking if Rika had done anything. She was unaware of whether that was to herself or someone else. But, it alarmed her nonetheless.

To avoid disturbing her unconscious friend, Chaewon shook her head slightly: "She's alright. I think. Aside from... possible raw throat, tense back and headache, she should be fine. Physically."

She was certain that she would have noticed any wounds right away.

Jihyun sighed with relief, but no joy was present. Chaewon couldn't hold him accountable for it: "Thank you... For being with her when I couldn't. I am... ever so grateful she had you by her side right now."

She felt like screaming when she saw the small smile of gratitude he gave her. Him being genuine was the most unfair aspect of it all. Jihyun was a good and caring man. Although, she had more in common with his friend Jumin, rather than the photographer himself. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't hate him. And her feeling so disgusted with herself was caused by the ugly feelings of jealousy and envy that were eating away at her from the inside. Jihyun considered her a dear friend, and here she was, getting all worked up over him rightfully caring and worrying over his fiance.

It's a shame that she's so selfish.

Chaewon bit the inside of her cheek in a mixture of frustration and pain, feeling the slight taste of copper on her tongue. Right. She was merely a friend. To Jihyun and Rika all the same. A close friend. Nothing more. Jihyun was the one Rika trusted the most. He knew the parts of her that she was never allowed to see.

What's the worst aspect of it all? It's that Jihyun was a better match for Rika, as she was aware. He was kind, gentle, artistic, loving. He was everything that Rika valued in a person. Chaewon's behavior was characterized by bluntness, forcefulness, and practicality. She was incapable of competing with this man for her heart. And did she even want to do that? It's not like she ever tried. She just sat back without doing or saying anything.

It seemed like there was a pattern in her life.

Agh, take a look at yourself. You're too busy feeling sorry for yourself about some stupid crush, even though your friend just lost her beloved companion. Get a grip. Chaewon quickly chastised herself as she tried to redirect her attention back to what was truly important right now, rather than her pitiful lovesickness.

"We should... probably carry her in. You should have her take a warm bath once she wakes up. Or give her a warm beverage. She might get sick after staying out in the rain like this," she mumbled quietly while untangling a few of Rika's golden curls to distract herself from something else. She certainly did not want to imagine Jihyun taking care of Rika like that. But... She wasn't one to be petty. At least not outwardly. She could be petty, angry, and upset all she wanted once she gets home, where her selfish outbursts won't harm anyone.

Jihyun carefully stood up from his spot while nodding: "Yes, you're right. I'll keep in contact with you. She might need her friend by her side once she wakes up."

"...Right."

Her friend. Chaewon prayed that she did not sound too bitter. She wished to avoid being perceived as an asshole. She made sure to help Jihyun carry Rika back into the house, offering a few more tips out of what little she knew. Of course, those were all health-related. Not much she could advise on emotions.

After drinking her stress away for a few hours that night, she sunk into bed with a bad feeling that kept her awake until early morning. A sensation of horror, disgust, and chilliness. The same one that she felt back in her car. It never left. It just faded onto the background. However, it was ever present. Demanding to be listened to. The feeling of things never being the same again. The feeling of something horrible lurking just around the corner. Something that would forever alter everything.

A point of no return. The beginning of the end.

Chaewon ignored it, just like she had done before.

[gregorygerwitz]

AITA for coming out at my sister's wedding?

I (32M) recently realized I'm bisexual and I have my first bf (45M), he's a rescue helicopter pilot (this will be relevant later). I'm out to my sister (41F) and my coworkers, including her husband, who I have worked with for years, but not to my parents or most of the other guests. Everyone has joked that I'm a little too close to my best friend (32M), and we might as well get married, but he's straight and has a gf. They're not relevant to this story, but to give context to how much my sexuality probably shouldn't be a surprise, even if it took me by surprise.

I told my sister and her husband I was bringing a plus one, and they both knew my bf, they were supportive of it because he makes me really happy.

Everything kind of started at the bachelor party. It was just me, my brother-in-law, and my best friend, and we did the usual stuff. We stayed a night in a hotel, went out to get drunk, sang some karaoke at our usual spot. It should have been a super chill night. Until my best friend and I lost the groom??? But it way more stressful than The Hangover makes it look.

He'd been taken by these guys who tried to kill him (no, I don't know why) and we didn't realize he was missing until less than an hour before the wedding. My mom kind of threw a fit about us being late, and then blamed me for losing the groom, which is kind of a normal reaction from her. My dad didn't yell as much but again, this is a normal reaction, I'm kind of the disappointment child. Basically, we had to find my brother-in-law because he still needed to marry my sister.

Before anyone worries: they did get married. He's fine. The hospital says they're discharging him tomorrow to go home. They're gonna reschedule their honeymoon so he's well enough to enjoy it.

Long story short, it turned into a rescue mission, and driving would have taken too long, and my best friend suggested we ask my bf to borrow his helicopter again (long story, but we had to borrow him for something a few months ago, it's how we met!) so I asked him for the favor. My mom asked who he was, since my best friend just used his name, and I told her he's my boyfriend, and she freaked out about it.

When we go to the hospital with my brother-in-law, my parents both yelled at and scolded me for taking attention away from the biggest day of my sister's life by pulling some "stunt" with my bf (to SAVE my brother-in-law from being violently murdered), and I think my dad somehow grounded me?

AITA?

[roosterr]

hi! i was wondering if i could request your thoughts/drabble on how the 141 would react if a mission went awful and you were left in the hospital with amnesia! like the reader wakes up and has no memory of her team🥲

if you aren’t taking requests atm or this doesn’t fit with your writing, i completely understand and you can ignore this! just wanted to say i binged your masterlist and absolutely love all your writings! keep up the amazing content <3

the 141 when you have amnesia

note: AAA TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS!!!! and ty for reading my stuff, it means a lot!! i had so much fun writing this it's unbelievable, this concept is just so JUICY,,, i really hope you like it!! <3

wc: 2.8k

warnings: established relationship, angst sadness and depression wow i did not mean for this to get so sad

ao3

[part two]

price

✹ he would undoubtedly blame himself for what happened to you. as your captain, it was his job to keep you safe and make sure you came home in one piece, and he'd failed you there.

✹ weeks and weeks go by as he waits endlessly for you to wake up, and with every day that ends with you still unconscious, he feels his resolve slipping just a little bit more.

✹ he holds himself together as well as he can, keeping his head high and projecting confidence that you'd be okay, if only to keep the team's spirit up. they still needed their captain, and he'd be damned if he failed them too.

✹ behind closed doors, however, he's a mess.

✹ john drinks, a lot, so much that it’s irresponsible, but the image of you, beaten and bloody and barely breathing haunts him every time he closes his eyes. he locks himself in his office, away from the others and ignores their concerned calls through the door.

✹ he visits you, only when it's late and there's no one else around to hear him whisper apologies to you with a lump in his throat. he confesses to you like a sinner, all the things he wishes he'd done differently, how he'd put himself in your place in a heartbeat if it meant you'd be okay.

✹ other than those nights, he does his best to stay away from the infirmary. it’s selfish, but he can’t bear to see you in such a fragile state.

✹ he’s in his office when you wake up.

✹ the nurse finds him on his second drink of the night, and no sooner than the news leaves her mouth he's pushing past her and rushing to the infirmary. he bursts through the door, startling you and the other nurse with you.

✹ "hey, sweetheart." he’s by your side in an instant, taking one of your hands in both of his as he gazes lovingly into your eyes. it feels like it's been an age since you've looked at him, the sight of your eyes alone almost has the dam behind his own breaking.

✹ you’re staring back at him with a somewhat lost expression, but john’s so relieved that you’re here, that you're back, it slips his notice.

✹ he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, like he's done hundreds of times before, but you stop him by placing your other hand on his chest. he pulls back with a concerned frown, finally noticing the unsure look you're wearing.

✹ the nurse briefly explains that some memory loss is common for the amount of head trauma you sustained. he should've expected something like this, in fact it's a miracle you made it out with just memory loss.

✹ "i'm sorry, can you tell me who you are?" you ask meekly, looking back at him with an apologetic look in your eye. you look guilty, like it's your fault this happened and not because of his own shortcomings.

✹ john's heart sinks at your words, but he's careful not to show it. amnesia can be temporary, he knows that, he just has to jog your memory.

✹ "i'm john," he smiles as warmly as he can through the panic in his chest, lifting his left hand to show you the wedding band on his finger, "your husband."

✹ your jaw falls open, your eyes wide as you look between the ring, his face, and the nurse behind him, who simply nods in confirmation of the captain's words.

✹ "you're…" you mutter, disbelief taking over your voice, "my husband?"

✹ you take his left hand in yours, bringing it closer to your face and examining the wedding band, a tiny smile pulling at one corner of your lips.

✹ "yes, love," his chest rumbles with a chuckle, grasping your left hand and showing you the matching band on your own finger, "we're married."

✹ "seriously?" you ask, comparing the rings on your fingers and looking back up to him with an almost comically surprised face. john nods again, his moustache tilted with an amused smile.

✹ "been together for nearly seven years."

✹ "how the hell did i convince you to marry me?" you mutter. at that, he lets out a real laugh, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

✹ "think i should be the one askin' that question."

gaz

✹ kyle takes it harder than anyone.

✹ he visited you once, at the first opportunity when you were stable enough to not require constant observation, but the sight ruins him. you looked so weak, nothing like how you should; your cheeks were sunken and your skin has a sickly sheen to it, and there was nothing he could do to help you.

✹ he couldn't stand it.

✹ he becomes so easily irritated, a hair trigger just waiting to snap. the others want to help him, but he won't let them get close enough to try. any mention of your name has him shutting down, leaving faster than they can finish their sentence.

✹ he barely sleeps, spending most nights curled up in your bed with his tears soaking your pillow. he surrounds himself with your clothes, things that smell like you, but your scent eventually fades and he just feels so alone without you.

✹ price finds him like that one night, sitting on the floor with his back leaning against your bed after throwing up from crying so hard. he hauls kyle up by the collar of his shirt, and forces him to meet his stern eyes through the tears.

✹ "pull yourself together, garrick! they need you to be strong for them, how d'you think they're gonna feel when they wake up and see you like this?"

✹ after that it's like the spell is broken, and he realises just how pathetic he's been acting. in the weeks you've been out, he's only visited you – his partner – once. you'd never forgive him if you knew.

✹ from that night onwards, he visits you at least once a day, filling multiple vases around your bed with beautiful flowers and making sure they never wilt.

✹ he got 'get well soon' cards for you too, having each of your teammates, and even kate, sign one to decorate your room.

✹ you wake up surrounded by life and colour, physical evidence of how much he loves you that puts a smile on your exhausted face, even if you don't know who left them.

✹ he's off base when you wake up, picking up a fresh bouquet for your room. his phone rings as he's leaving the florists, and as soon as he hears the nurse's voice he's sprinting back to his car, throwing the flowers onto the passenger seat and racing back to base.

✹ he bursts through the infirmary doors to see you standing with the help of the nurse, your legs wobbly but your face determined. he almost breaks down in the doorway.

✹ when you look up and meet his eyes, he feels his heart stutter in his chest. he rushes towards you, the new bouquet slipping from his fingers, and almost knocks you off your feet with the how hard he embraces you.

✹ you let out a small 'oomph' as he squeezes you, hesitantly wrapping your own arms around his torso. he sniffles into your shoulder, a few tears wetting your shirt despite his attempts to hold them back.

✹ "hey, uhm…" your voice reaches his ears, hoarse with disuse, "are you okay? what's your name?"

✹ "what?" kyle lifts his head, pulling back to mirror your confused gaze. "babe, what're you on about?"

✹ the nurse pulls him aside, leaving you sitting on the edge of your bed as she explains your amnesia to him.

✹ you really didn't remember him. his heart withers in his chest, the pain of losing you all over again spreading to the ends of every limb.

✹ "no, no no no–" he mumbles, stumbling back over to where you sit and cupping your worried face so gently, like you'd break if he was too rough. "please, love, you have to remember"

✹ you cover his hands with your own, a few tears falling from your eyes and rolling hot against kyle's palms. "i'm sorry, i want to remember, but…"

✹ "please, i love you…"

soap

✹ johnny spends every free moment at your bedside.

✹ he talks to you, tells you stories about everything that's happened since you've been asleep; the time ghost burnt dinner and set the fire alarms off, a robin that landed on the windowsill of your shared room, anything that comes to mind.

✹ sometimes he plays your favourite songs, sitting on the end of your bed softly humming along, praying that you'll hear it and come back to him.

✹ most often though, he draws you. he fills page after page of his sketchbook with sketches of you; the peaceful look on your face as you lay next to him, memories from before the accident, the two of you together – though he always puts infinitely more detail into you than himself.

✹ similarly to the captain, johnny stays positive about your condition, refusing to even entertain the idea of you not waking up. he's optimistic, and so good at hiding the anguish of being without you that even ghost is fooled by his facade.

✹ he won't let the others worry about him. you're the one in the hospital, you're the one that deserves their sympathies, he has to stay positive for everyone so they don't worry, so you have something familiar to come back to when you wake up–

✹ in reality, he's living in denial. he's on the verge of a steep mental nosedive, and if he looks past his delusions for even a second, he's afraid he'll spiral into a pit he won't be able to claw his way back out of.

✹ so he continues to live like that. he has one-sided conversations with you, going on for hours as if you're talking back to him. he brings you your favourite meal when the mess hall makes it, putting it on your bedside table so you can reach it and clearing it up the next day when he comes back.

✹ when you eventually, finally wake up, he's already there with you.

✹ it was late, and against the nurse's wishes he'd climbed into your hospital bed with you, an arm around your shoulder holding you close his chest while his other hand doodles away in his sketchbook.

✹ you let out a small sound and shift against him, and his heart skips a beat under your ear at the realiseation that you're back.

✹ any lingering tiredness immediately disappears from his mind, as he throws his sketchbook carelessly onto the side table and wastes no time in gathering you up into his arms and bringing you into a crushing hug.

✹ a groggy, surprised noise leaves you, the sound of your voice lighting up johnny's face with a smile so wide it aches. he loosens his hold just enough to hold the side of your head with one hand, gazing into your eyes like you were the only person in the world.

✹ "there y'are, bonnie, i missed you so much,"

✹ he presses his lips to the top of your head, his eyes glassing and his heart full with how relieved he is that you're awake.

✹ "...what's going on?" you mutter, your eyes darting all over his face and to the room around you with a confused furrow in your brow.

✹ "lemme call the nurse," he replies with an easy, comforting smile, reaching somewhere behind him for the call button.

✹ while you wait for the nurse, he helps you sit up, adjusting the pillows behind your back so you can sit comfortably, all the while rambling about everything and nothing all at once.

✹ "you should've seen gaz's face, darl, it was priceless–"

✹ "i'm sorry, i… i dont remember you…"

✹ nothing has ever shut him up quite as effectively as those words.

✹ "wh… what? stop messin' about, bonnie," he chuckles, desperately searching your eyes for the humour that was missing. when you only shake your head in response, the smile fades from his face and quickly morphs into concern.

✹ "sergeant mactavish, how many times do i have to tell you to get off the bed!" the nurse exclaims as she enters the room. he doesn't get down though, just fixes her with the most intense look he's ever worn.

✹ "why don't they remember me?"

✹ the nurse explains that an injury like yours was bound to cause some lasting damage, but amnesia was more often than not temporary.

✹ "i'm sorry, i wish i could remember you…" you mutter, dropping your gaze to your lap as he turns back to you.

✹ johnny exhales deeply, finding a great sense of comfort that you'll most likely get your memory back. he gently tilts your chin up again so he can stare deep into your eyes.

✹ "don't apologise, that just means i get to woo you all over again, bonnie."

ghost

✹ simon would be destroyed.

✹ while you're knocked out its like he forgets how to be human. he eats, sleeps, and breathes on autopilot – like a robot with a function, no feeling, just keeping himself alive until you wake up.

✹ it worries the others, price especially, but the walls around his heart are expertly crafted, and without you by his side he sees no purpose in lowering them.

✹ when you do wake up, the first thing you see is him, sitting at your bedside with his hand enclosed around yours. his eyes are closed, but he's still very much awake, in fact he finds himself unable to rest anywhere but in the chair by your side.

✹ the way you try to pull your hand from his brings him back to the present and alerts him to your consciousness. his eyes snap open in less than a second, already glassy with the pure relief he feels now you're back.

✹ but you're looking at him differently. where there would once be soft affection, now he can only see confusion, and worst of all, panic.

✹ and there's fear in how your shoulders bunch up, but simon tries his best to ignore that thought.

✹ "hey, you're alright, darlin'," he coos, as gentle as he can manage, pushing the rising dread to the back of his mind.

✹ he presses the button to call the nurse, letting go of your trembling hand bringing it up to your shoulder. your worried gaze flicks to his arm and back to his face, which makes him pause in his tracks.

✹ "who… who are you?"

✹ simon's waited so long to hear your voice again, but hearing those four words from you shatters his heart into pieces.

✹ no.

✹ you didn't forget him. there was no way.

✹ "it's…" he swallows hard, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to fall. "it's me, love, it's simon."

✹ you're still looking at him with that same anxious expression, and he curses himself when he realises he's still wearing his balaclava. he practically rips it from his head, dropping it to the floor without a care for where it fell.

✹ your eyes study his bare face, tracing over every crease and scar, the mess of hair on top of his head, and finally landing on his desperate eyes.

✹ "i'm sorry, i…" you look guilty, the subtle shake of your head hurting simon like a knife to the chest. "...do i know you?"

✹ the silence that follows your words is unbearable.

✹ you really did forget him.

✹ all the time you'd spent together, the memories you shared, the love you had; it was all gone, just like that.

✹ suddenly he felt like the walls were closing in on him, he couldn't get enough air and his skin was crawling with the need to escape.

✹ at that moment, the nurse comes through the doors, startling simon into standing from the chair and stumbling backwards. he never takes his eyes off of your guilt-ridden face. you didn't know him, not anymore, and that meant he was all alone again, with no one to care for him and call home.

✹ the emptiness in his chest was enough to make him want to rip the hair from his scalp.

✹ the nurse says something, stealing your attention from him with words he's too overwhelmed to listen to. he takes the opportunity to back away, disappearing through the doors with a hand covering his mouth, fighting the urge to throw up.

✹ it was a miracle to two of you got together in the first place – simon didn't know if he could get you to love him again.

[gaypinebabe]

I'm OK with losing my childhood home and nearly everything in it :) I'm just shattering like glass

[navybrat817]

Too early, Navy. I want cuddles with Stud.

I understand that feeling, nonnie.

A Bit Longer

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You need to get up, but Bucky wants to hold you for a bit longer. Word Count: Over 1k Warnings: Fluff, pet names, teasing, sugary sweetness, inner monologue, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I really need to stop with the cuddle ficlets, right? Eh. Stud and Smartie, deserve it. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky’s lips were the first thing you felt when you woke up, bringing a smile to your face. They grazed your shoulder as his arm tightened around your waist, keeping your back against his chest. It was a subtle way to say he wasn’t ready for you to leave the confines of your bed. Or maybe he was the one who didn’t want to leave yet.

Not that you blamed him. It was early. Maybe too early. Cuddling for a bit was always a good way to start the day, his embrace warmer than the thickest blanket. Sex also worked as a way to both wear you out and energize you to tackle the day.

Cuddle, hot sex, cuddle again. Wait, what time is it?

“Okay. We need to get up,” you croaked when you finally looked at the clock, trying in vain with a groan to break from his hold when he refused to move his arm or let you up. Any other morning, you’d wiggle back against him to give him a proper wake up call, but that wasn’t today. “I mean it. No time for sexy time. I need to make you breakfast. Feed the cats. You have to work. God, I need to look over my resume again. Work on wedding stuff. I also need to-”

The throaty chuckle beside you stopped your ramblings because how could it not? Why was his laughter so sexy? Why did his mere existence make you stop in your tracks? In what universe was that right or fair?

Actually, it’s fair because I get to marry him.

“First, there’s always time for sexy time. Two, you didn't say ‘good morning’. By the way, good morning,” he teased, turning your body to face him. “And three, hey, look at me. Let’s just stay in bed for another minute.”

Your eyes slipped shut because there would be no resisting if you stared into his. His gaze had a way of pulling you in so deeply some days you feared you'd drown. But if he ever robbed you of your ability to breathe, he’d find a way to give you air.

“Too much to do,” you muttered. You could feel the seconds slipping away and now wasn’t the time to lounge around. “And if I look at you, you’ll turn one minute into two and then three and then four and so on and so forth and such and what have you. I probably wasted a minute just saying that.”

You tried to back up a bit because no way did your breath smell pleasant and Bucky didn’t need that in his face. A hand moved to the back of your head to keep you still. He didn’t have to tell you that he didn’t care about things like morning breath. If he wanted to hold you close, he’d do just that.

No exceptions.

He chuckled again before his lips brushed your eyelids and skimmed down your cheeks. “I just want you to stay here so I can hold you for a bit longer. Is that too much to ask?”

Well, when you put it like that…

You swallowed hard when he kissed the corner of your mouth, your heart skipping a beat. You were certain an embarrassing sort of whimper slipped out when he brought his lips to the other side. He wasn't rushing or demanding anything from you or trying to turn you on. He just wanted to be there with you.

So many believed that intimacy was just sex when it was much more. It was the feeling of being close and emotionally connected. It was familiarity and even friendship. You liked Bucky from the start, but the two of you were able to build a foundation by getting to know each other. It allowed you to bond on many levels, which only grew stronger once you two became a couple.

He showed you once again, without words, that he was your other half.

“I can feel you thinking, Smartie,” he whispered, his lips trailing back to your forehead.

“Just thinking of us, Stud,” you admitted, pressing your body closer to feel his chest against yours. You breathed him into your lungs and wondered if he knew how addictive he was. Savoring the moment, you allowed yourself to stay tangled up in him before you had to face the day.

His hand moving up and down your side nearly lulled you back to sleep. “You thinking about how you drive me crazy?”

What?

“I drive you crazy?!” You asked, realizing your mistake the moment your eyes flew open. A sea of blue stared back at you and you were too late to stop yourself from taking the plunge. Your gaze didn't have to drift down to know that he was wearing a triumphant smirk. “You made me open my eyes.”

“I sure did,” he smiled.

Well played, Stud. Well played.

The things you had to do seemed almost insignificant as you looked at each other. A minute went by as you listened to the beat of his heart and made no attempt to get up. The tips of your fingers brushed along the scruff on his chin as another minute ticked by and you reveled in the sigh he gave you in return.

Is this what living in the moment means?

“Will it always be like this?” You asked.

“Always like what?”

“You wanting to stay in bed with me a bit longer, even if we both have stuff to do.”

With a kiss to the tip of your nose and one against your smiling lips, he smiled back. “Always.”

Logically, you knew every morning couldn't be this way since life wasn't a fairy tale. The romantic part of you though, the one he helped bring to life, believed the two of you would continue to write your story together and make your own rules. If that meant the two of you cuddled in bed for a few more minutes, you’d happily help him write that chapter.

And every chapter after that.

Where do I get a man like this? 🥰 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[swarvey]

how they would propose | sdv bachelors x g/n!reader | part one

-> summary: in game, the farmer is always the one to present the mermaid's pendant to their lover — what if it was the other way around?

pt. 2

a/n: starting with half the boys, i'll be working on the rest of them + bachelorettes after ! i got a bit carried away with elliott's ... but can you blame me?

alex

carries the pendant around in his pocket for a week, hoping the right words will magically find him if he does

(they don't)

definitely the type to lock himself in the bathroom and stare at himself through the mirror while practicing what to say to you

decides to propose during a quiet walk in the evening so he has your full attention and all the time in the world to profess his love to you

alex swears his heart is about to fly out of his chest as the two of you walk hand in hand around pelican town, the sun long gone below the horizon. the street lamps guide the two of you, fireflies intermittently emitting gentle flashes of light.

he doesn't even realize you're expecting a response from him until you wave a hand in front of his face, moving in front of him so he's forced to look into your amused gaze.

"alex," you laugh, and his breath hitches, "are you listening? you look like you've been zoning out."

he musters an empty laugh back at you, internally panicking as he desperately tries to recall what you said. "what? me? no, i was just, uh . . ." think, alex, think! you can't mess up now! "i was thinking about gridball." he wants to smack himself.

"really?" you reply, raising your brows. "you're thinking about gridball, now? while i was talking to you about our anniversary coming up?"

shit.

his face pales, stopping in his tracks in the middle of the bridge near the museum. he groans, dropping your hand to run it through his hair — surely he can fix this, right?

"okay, cut the act," you say, worry beginning to show in your features. "is everything alright? what's bugging you?"

"nothing, really! it's just that, uh . . ." alex inhales a quick breath to prepare himself before grabbing both your hands in his. "you know i love you, right?"

"yes . . .," you trail off. you look at him with concerned eyes, beginning to look uneasy. "now i'm really worried—"

"no, no! just hear me out, alright?" you nod. "you know, before you moved here, my view on life was pretty boring," he admits. "all i really cared about was gridball and my grandparents. and dusty, of course, and i guess sam and haley, too—" he shakes his head, blush beginning to cover his cheeks. "whatever, you get what i'm trying to say, right?"

"i'm not entirely sure if i follow," you reply, smiling at how flustered he's gotten. "what are you getting at, alex?"

he sighs. "listen, you moving here was the best thing that ever happened to me. you've shown me there's tons more to life than whatever i was doing before, like giving random gifts to everyone in town just to make them happy, or being a badass and fighting off monsters!" you laugh, and he grins. "anyways, now that i've had a taste of what being with you is like, i don't think i'm willing to share."

your jaw drops as he reaches into his pocket and gets on one knee, opening his palm to reveal a mermaid's pendant.

"will you marry me, y/n? so i can spend the rest of my life learning more awesome stuff from you?"

he nearly collapses in relief when you nod, whooping in joy before engulfing you in a tight hug. after a few moments, he can't help but kiss you strongly, a hand cradling the back of your head with the other on the small of your back. you smile into the kiss, pulling away only to look into his teary, overjoyed eyes.

"aren't you forgetting something?" you tease, glancing down at the pendant that's still clutched in his hand.

"oh, right!" you bend your head forward as he places it around your neck, beaming at the sight.

you hold the jewel in your hand, adrenaline pumping through your blood. "looks like we'll have to plan a wedding," you say, happily pecking alex's cheek.

"yes, this is so great!" he exclaims as he jumps in excitement, unable to control himself. "alright, first, we gotta figure out where we're going to cater food from, but i know grams will want to bake our cake," he rambles, grabbing your hand as he practically starts to drag you home. "oooh, and we should totally ask sam and his band to play something for us! he knows all the songs we like, anyway. i think all the guys will help me get all dressed up, but i bet haley and the rest of the girls would go crazy over helping you pick out what to wear, they probably know better anyway—"

"alex," you interrupt, laughing at his antics, "relax. we'll figure all this out tomorrow. let's just go home." he nods.

"you're right, honey," he agrees, swinging your intertwined hands playfully. "i'm going to need all the rest i can get if i'm gonna spend all of tomorrow bragging about my engagement."

shane

leaves the pendant in his nightstand drawer and looks at it every night before he goes to sleep for nearly a month

he truly never thought he would get married — who would want to marry him, the town drunk?

regardless, the past year with you has proven otherwise, and he knows now there's no one else he wants by his side

he decides to do it quite impulsively one day, literally grabbing it from his drawer and walking to your farm

(marnie nearly faints in excitement when she sees him walk out with the mermaid's pendant in hand, while jas cheers him on)

shane starts to get nervous when he doesn't see you anywhere on the farm, making sure to double-check all the chicken coops and barns before heading toward your house. your pet runs up to him, sniffing the hand wrapped around the pendant curiously.

"got any advice?" he asks jokingly, though he doesn't receive an answer — just a tilted head and wide eyes. "guess this one's on me," he sighs, looking at the jewelry nervously.

"shane? is that you?"

shane nearly drops it as he quickly shoves his hands into his pockets, watching as you step out from your greenhouse. of course, he thinks, the one place i didn't check.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, smiling at his sudden appearance. you're wearing dirt-covered gloves and your hair is touseled and frizzy; shane thinks you're glowing. "dinner's not til later, isn't it? or else i'll need a little time to get ready."

"no, i thought i would stop by a little early," he says. "i had something i wanted to talk to you about, actually." you nod, taking off your gloves and putting them in your bag.

"of course, what's up?" you ask, looking at him with those damn eyes that he could never resist.

"we should get married," he states bluntly, excitement sending chills down his body.

he wants to kick himself as you stare at him, blinking twice before saying, "y-yeah, i guess we should."

he nods, swallowing. "it makes sense, y'know?" he reasons, suddenly avoiding your eyes. "we've been with each other for a while now, and things have been going pretty good." he pauses. "you've gotten me through a lot, you know that? i mean, before you got here, i didn't think anyone in this town gave a damn about me — but you obviously do, for whatever reason, so i'll spend the rest of my life trying my best to be the guy you see me as."

he takes the mermaid's pendant out from his pocket, sheepishly looking at you as he holds it. his eyes are watering with emotion, and by the looks of it, so are yours.

"so, what do you say, honey?" he asks softly. "will you marry me?"

"yes," you reply, smiling as he puts the necklace on you. he laughs in disbelief when he sees you wearing it, still in shock that this is his reality. you roll your eyes, pulling him in for a deep kiss. you cry out in surprise as he hugs you strongly and even lifts you off the ground slightly, his eyes brighter than you've ever seen them.

"i can hardly believe this is real," he sighs, pulling you into his side. "guess i did one thing right in my lifetime."

you slap his arm, resting your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes. "you definitely didn't plan this out, did you?"

"huh? what makes you think that?"

"you couldn't even wait until dinner to ask?" you joke. "i guess it wasn't really a question, either—" you laugh as he pokes your side to cut you off.

"don't forget, you're the one who said yes," he retorts, smiling nonetheless. "you're officially stuck with me."

elliott

oh, he's had the mermaid's pendant for months. pretty much since you two got together

he tried to keep it a secret, he really did, but by the time he actually decides to propose, the rest of the bachelors and bachelorettes know

still, he wants the proposal to be for you and you only, so he plans on asking you during an evening picnic dinner on the beach

that doesn't stop him from asking his friends for some help, though

"is this really necessary?" sebastian questions, placing a candle into the sand and creating a pathway to the picnic blanket near the water.

"i think it's romantic," leah sighs, handing him another candle from the box in her arms. "he's been planning and buying all this stuff for weeks now. plus, candlelight always makes things more magical."

"i'm sure the moon will be bright enough tonight to add some 'magic.'"

"the light itself is not our concern, my friend," elliott says, wrapping an arm around seb — who scowls at the contact, but decides to let him get away with it just this once — and waving his arm to show off their setup. "i need this beach to represent a scene of pure love and endearment tonight, for my beloved deserves no less than a proposal for the century!"

"right," seb monotones. "well, the candles are all set up, so i'm heading to the shade."

"you want the speakers over here, el?" sam calls out, holding up one of his wireless speakers at the entrance of the beach.

"i've got one over here, too!" abigail yells from behind the cabin.

"perfect!" elliott replies, grinning as the setting he's been picturing finally comes together. he waves goodbye as everyone begins to head home, turning to the only part of his plan left untouched — the picnic blanket. i suppose the rest is up to me.

-

"are you ready, my dear?"

"elliott, i've been ready for the past twenty minutes," you say, playfully smacking the hands covering your eyes. "can i look now?" he laughs before finally lowering his arms, watching lovingly as your eyes widen at the setting in front of you.

"shall we?" he asks, holding his arm out. you gladly hold on to him as the two of you make your way down the beach, in awe at the candles lighting your way.

"i must be dreaming," you say, shaking your head. "how did you—? wait, where's the music coming from?" you realize soft acoustic music is playing throughout the beach, feeling as if you're in a movie scene.

"ah, that? i asked sam and abigail if i could borrow their speakers," elliott explains proudly. "i also recruited leah and sebastian to help me create this enchanting path."

you laugh. "let me guess, you asked alex and haley to distract me and bring me to the library?" your jaw dropped. "no, and you asked maru and penny to get lunch with me? all so i wouldn't come to find you?"

"i had a feeling my darling would venture to my whereabouts, so i requested the help of our colleagues to keep you away. though i'm sure it was difficult for you, i wanted this to be a surprise," he admits, smiling at you. "do you . . . like it?" he asks quietly, a bit scared he had done too much.

"elliott, this is more than anything i could have asked for," you say, warmth coating your words. "what's the occasion?"

he sighs in relief before replying, "have i ever needed a measly excuse to spoil you, dear?"

"i suppose not," you agree amusedly, recalling all the times you've returned home to a bouquet sitting on your porch.

finally, the two of you reach the end of the path, sitting together on the blanket. a big basket covered with a cloth sits at the center of it, as well as two plates, utensils, and your favorite food.

you shake your head. "this is ridiculous," you state, looking at elliott with big eyes. "how long have you been planning this?"

he hums in thought as he plates your food, pushing it towards you. "that, my dear, is none of your concern," he says, "though, i will say it took quite a bit of strategy. and money," he jokingly adds.

after the two of you eat, elliott hands the basket over to you, trying his very best to contain himself.

"i thought it'd be fitting to get you some gifts," he states, as you begin to uncover its contents one by one.

inside, you find a framed version of your favorite photo with him, a hand-painted mug, a poem, and—

you gasp. "are those rubies?" you ask, a couple red stones glittering at the top of the basket. you pick them up, realizing they're matching keychains.

"courtesy of emily," elliott explains. he hesitates, breathing out lightly before continuing. "rubies signify love and passion, you know, as well as good luck and prosperity."

you laugh lightly, holding up the keychains to the moonlight to see them shine. "perfect, should work wonders for us and the farm—"

"they also symbolize weddings."

you blink, gently setting down the gems as you look at him. he holds out the mermaid's pendant he has been patiently keeping for you, eyes already shining with tears as you gasp.

"y/n, the time we have spent together has been by far the best of my entire life," he starts, "and when i look to the future, i'm afraid i cannot picture one without you walking by my side. you are, and always will be, the love of my life, my shining light, my fairy book tale. you, my love, are my happy ending.

"so, will you do me the honors and marry me?"

you jump into his arms as soon as he finishes speaking, both of you laughing as he happily holds you.

"yes, elliott, of course!" you exclaim. he grins as he holds your face in his hands, covering your face in kisses before finally landing on your lips. your hands run through his hair before you fall backward, elliott landing on top of you with his hand cradling your head. you peck his nose, and he laughs once more before helping you sit up.

"here, let us celebrate with some wine!" he decides, grabbing two bottles he had left in the corner. "shane and harvey said these were the best the winery had to offer."

"you really got the whole town in on this, huh?" you tease, barely containing yourself as he helps you put on the jewelry.

he rubs the back of his head, slightly embarrassed. "well, it began with leah, and i thought it wouldn't hurt to tell harvey, but then of course i had to tell—" he stops himself. "secrecy has never been one of my strong suits, has it, love?"

you shake your head, leaning into his arm as you listen to the sound of the music mixing with the crashing of the waves.

"don't worry," you reassure, and he looks down at you with nothing but love in his gaze. "you have plenty of other traits to make up for it."

[artdcnaldson]

In part 2 you mentioned Patrick x reader having makeup sex after they got into stupid argument…. Can we get a flashback to one of those moments🤭🤭 domestic Patrick starting an argument with reader and reader calling him out about it but they end up making up in a cute way. Like Patrick making it up in a corny but cute way??? Just a suggestion, part 2 was amazing btw!

Rating: T

Warnings: just a minor argument, language ofc

A/N: thank youuuu!!! No smut in this little blurb, just a snapshot of domestic Patrick x reader in the changeover au 🫶🫶🫶

Also working on art x reader first time and also Patrick x reader first I love you blurbs for the changeover au :) so those will be coming sooooon

It was easy to let the stupid arguments devolve. It started with a facial expression when you brought up your college roommate’s wedding. An eye roll, an I-don’t-want-to-fucking-deal-with-that. And that became your, “why do you treat my friends and my life as less important?”

“I can’t fucking believe you got that out of me wanting to ditch Katie’s wedding to her dickhead loser fiancé.” Patrick’s words came out so flippant that it infuriated you further. “You don’t even talk to her outside of Facebook comments.”

“I’m sorry, Patrick. I didn’t realize that you’d be so fucking opposed to free food and booze considering you live off of it.”

Patrick set his jaw, glaring at you. It was a low blow, one you knew would sting. “I’m opposed to wasting my time flying out to bum fuck Iowa to because Katie— who has always hated me, by the way— is marrying some dickhead who’s a shill for a corrupt asshole in congress.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe she would like you, Patrick, if you ever put in an ounce of effort with anyone besides me.”

“Right, because I need to be friends with the kind of people whose proposal was a flash mob.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Right, because you’re just too cool for stuff like that.”

It was so fucking like him— making fun of the lame proposals your friends got, or their baby names, or their engagement shoots. Sometimes they were lame— flash mobs were fucking stupid— but sometimes they were sweet, and romantic, and there was Patrick acting like he’d rather blow his brains out than ever publicly admit he cared.

“Yeah, I am.” He said back.

You rolled your eyes and stood. “Whatever, Patrick. I’ll RSVP for one, again, and you can bum around my apartment alone.”

You had slammed the bedroom door before he could respond, which left him alone and seething in the living room.

You heard the front door open, then slam shut, signaling that Patrick was going out for a smoke, or a walk, or something.

You opened Facebook and scrolled through your feed. Katie’s engagement photos, a coworker’s new baby, a college friend’s bachelorette weekend. And there you were, fighting so your boyfriend would finally be your plus one to something.

It wasn’t always his fault— he had tournaments, and commitments. But a lot of the time, it was an active dismissal of things you found important— engagement parties, friends visiting the city, the increasingly common baby shower.

You didn’t blame him. Adult stuff sucked, and it was almost always boring and agonizingly slow. But you just wanted him to show up with you for things that were big.

It would be stupid to break up over Katie, who you genuinely weren’t even that close to. She’d been a decent friend Freshman year, you supposed, but that was the extent of it. The invitation to the wedding was probably a formality.

All you wanted was an excuse to show off your super hot, super cool boyfriend. To get tipsy over free booze, then leave the wedding early to fuck in the shitty Best Western hotel room that wedding guests would get a discount rate on.

A few hours later, the front door opened, and you sat up against the headboard, waiting eagerly to see if he’d be the first to break, or if you would.

You heard four gentle knocks against the door, saw Patrick’s sneakers beneath the door. “You can come in,” you said softly.

Patrick slipped into the room and joined you on the bed. He kept space between you, just in case you were still mad, but met your gaze with the sad eyes of a kicked puppy.

“I bought a suit,” was all he said. “And I tried to buy you a huge bouquet of flowers since I was a dickhead, but my card declined since I just bought the suit, so…”

His hand was resting on the empty expanse of mismatched bedsheets between you. You moved your hand into his, tangling your fingers together. “You bought a suit, huh?”

He nodded, squeezing your hand lightly. “I’ll stop being a dick about Katie’s wedding.” He paused, turning away from your gaze. “I think… I’m away so much that when I’m home, I just want it to be me and you.”

You leaned forward and kissed his nose. “I just want to show you off to everyone I know,” you said lightly. Your forehead stayed pressed to his, and you relished in the closeness. “I don’t give a fuck about Katie or her ugly loser fiancé’s stupid wedding.”

Patrick grinned. “Oh? So you just want a hot, professional athlete to be your arm candy, huh?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re always cheapening the moment.” You leaned forward kissing him sweetly, which always seemed to devolve into a hungry mess of tongues and spit when Patrick was involved.

“Wait—“ you said suddenly, right as Patrick began peeling off your top. “You said your fucking card declined? You drained your bank account for this stupid wedding?”

He paused, his hands warm on your bare skin. “Uh… it felt like a grand gesture kind of moment.” You leaned in and kissed him, pulling your shirt off the rest of the way.

Not smutty but I neeeeeeeded to write some domestic Patrick x reader 😁🫶 my pookies my babies my loves

[nosesitter]

Wedding Dress.

| father in law! Joel miller

1.8k words

a/n: Not going to lie this seemed longer as I was writing it then the word count hit me in the head like a brick. I’ve missed FIL Joel this isn’t me rushing honestly, this is just what happens when you have good pussy and good personality. The inevitable happens, it’s life.

⚠️: infidelity, recorded sex, mention of onlyfans, one mention of ankle kissing(don’t worry no feet stuff),pussy drunk Joel milller 🫶🏻, fingering, pet names(darling, baby, beautiful bride), squirting (it’s a common theme), unprotected p in v, and one unreciprocated I love you.

“Could I fuck you in your wedding dress?”

It sits in a box in the back of your closet. A white box wrapped in a white bow that’s barely gathered any dust. Your wedding dress. It’s only been a couple years but it should still fit. Walker is out for the weekend, work conference. He’s been working so hard to make sure you maintain your housewife status and you’re grateful for that.

Joel had texted you a couple days ago asking for a peculiar request. Could he fuck you in your wedding dress. At first you were hesitant. Your dress was special to you — it obviously held sentimental value but how can you say no? So here you are searching for the white lingerie you wore on your wedding night to wear underneath your wedding dress.

You can’t help but remember what it was like seeing Joel on your wedding day. A scruffy, everyday man who barely wore a smile on his face but now there he was standing outside the church —in a crisp white shirt, fitting black slacks that hugged his ass and prominent bulge, trying to navigate the people inside.

Even with the limo windows tinted he could see you behind the glass. Hair pulled up, the few pieces falling out the bun accenting your face, glossed lips pressed together. As beautiful as you looked that day all he could think about was the honeymoon you’d have. Getting railed for a week straight in a beautiful cabana, overlooking the beach.

He can’t deny he was a tad jealous. Having a shotgun wedding with Walkers mother, because she became pregnant pretty quick into their relationship and this was back in the day when you needed to be wed first to have a child. So you couldn’t blame Joel for his perverse decision of wanting to bang his beautiful bride.

—

You had about thirty minutes before Joel came home, his home. The place you were staying at for the weekend. In his guest room you had set up everything you needed. Your dress laid out on the navy bedspread, your makeup and hair done just like it was two years ago. And in the next room, Joel’s room, the camera. Ready and set up to capture the entirety of the sick perverted act the two of you were ready to commit.

As you finished zipping up the dress you could hear his truck pull up. Nervousness setting it just like you were outside of the church again, ready to face the man you’d see everyday for the rest of your life. Just outside his own front door, sun kissed skin from working hard outside, the smell of his musk and faded cologne you saw him put on this morning before he left and his hands, dirty with the day he had, ready to grab and stain the porcelain white lace you were wearing.

Your right hand reached to your left to twist off the wedding ring and set it on the kitchen counter. You were ready for Joel and he was ready for you.

Front door opening up this was it, no going back now. Crossing the threshold his eyes couldn’t break away from the most beautiful bride he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing twice now.

“I must’ve died and gone to heaven, darlin’, dropping whatever he had in his hands on the coffee table, Joel beelines over to you. His hands shaky with nerves. His kiss is powerful against you, glossy lips sticking to his, he can’t help but pull away and savor the vanilla flavor now stained on him.

“I can’t deny the request of such a hard working, handsome man. So after some thought I decided yes, you can fuck me in my dress.” His rough hands grab both sides of your face pulling you back close to him to seal the deal. Your hands grabbing each button trying to pry his shirt off him. Hands touching his hot skin. Once his shirt was off he wanted to move this to the bedroom.

“Not to be corny but,” he kneels down and put one of his strong arms behind your knees sweeping you up and into his arms. Your hands come to his neck as you hold on, giggling like crazy as he walks the two of you to the bedroom.

He sets you down on the edge of his bed, his head turns to notice the camera. He walks over and switches it on, the little red light coming alive to record the act. Joel comes back to you, kneeling down grabbing your foot to slowly remove the white heels you’re wearing.

“You look like a princess. So gorgeous.” Your face is hot and there’s no doubt a blush on your cheeks. Pulling your ankle close to your face he gives it light kisses, slowly working his way up under your dress. His thick fingers grab at the white garter pulling it forward and snapping it back against your skin. His beard scratches at your leg as he bites onto the lace and pulls it down your leg and out from under the dress.

The garter rests between his teeth as he grabs your hands pulling you back up to stand infront of him. He turns you around and starts to unzip the dress. Pushing the dress shoulders slowly off, his nose trailing down your neck, inhaling your scent. Things feel different this time. He wasn’t ravaging you the way he had been for a month now. He was taking his time, taking you in. Enjoying himself and you.

“Joel please,” you felt breathless, his fingers scratching at the nape of your neck grabbing the bun you had your hair in. Teeth sinking into your shoulder as your dress puddles onto the floor. A bundle of white lace sitting atop his dirty work boots.

“When you left for your honeymoon all I could think about was you getting fucked day in and day out on a beach.” His hand coming around your front to feel the tightened corset, pretty white panties with a pretty bow right above your pussy.

He’s not completely wrong. Walker bent you over anything that was bolted into the ground. It’s when you started your onlyfans. Recording a video of you giving him head then riding him on a private beach. Walker loved it, loved the wild woman you are. Walker loved you.

You turn quick to face Joel. Finally worried that this is going to far but he’s quick to push you back on the bed crawling up between your legs. He looks like a cartoon wolf, tongue falling out, eyes with hearts in them as he was practically drooling over your clothed cunt.

He wants to rip the lace and dive his tongue right in but he refrains from that and just begins to suck the wetness from the cloth. His tongue pushing through the barrier right against you. He was going to savor this. He wanted to remember this. As sick as this sounds he wants to imagine him fucking you on your honeymoon.

Your hands grab at the salt and pepper curls as you slowly try to grind up into his face. Clit rubbing against his prominent nose it sends goosebumps all over your body.

“Please baby, don’t tease.” As you try to wiggle out of your panties, hips grinding against the bed as they begin to slip down. Joel’s quick to slap your thigh with his large palm.

“Stop that squirmin’! Lemme enjoy this darlin’.” Pussy drunk Joel had his accent coming out more than usual. But he obliges you and slips the panties off. Pushing you further up the bed he lays on his stomach to enjoy himself more. Cock bulging through the zipper he grinds it into the mattress. As much as he wants to just fuck you and bust in you he just pushes two fingers into you. His saliva, your wetness create a squelch that makes Joel smile big between your thighs as his tongue kitten licks your clit.

“You made me an amazing lunch baby. Thank you, but all I could think about was the dessert, this dessert. Sweet-sweet cunt served so beautifully.” Sucking at the bud his fingers push inside of you faster. Moans getting louder you can’t help but chant his name as your stomach tightens. You can feel your orgasm coming, and it’s coming quick.

Adding another finger in Joel seems determined to make you squirt. Hands release from his hair worried that you’ll pull it out and just yank at the comforter underneath you.

“Baby look at me.” Deep brown eyes, practically black are all you see. His bottom lip is between his teeth. He wants to watch your face as you fall apart under him. His hips grinding against the mattress. He’s a mess of a man. You might be about to cum but so is he just from watching you. The coil inside you snaps, the sound of liquid splashing against his hand has you throwing your head back into the bed as he keeps pumping his fingers inside you having you spray everywhere. Quickly he removes his fingers not giving you a moments rest as he shuffles onto his knees and grabs at his own belt.

Grabbing your thighs he pulls you closer to him and pushes himself inside of you. Fucking you missionary has to be the most intimate position so far for the two of you. Joel leans down arms resting by your head as he pushes the hairs sticking to your face back.

“My beautiful bride, the most wonderful woman.” As good as this feels Joel’s losing himself in you and you know it. Worried for anything else he might say you pull him deep into a kiss, tasting yourself and vanilla lipgloss all across his lips.

Headboard smacking repeatedly against the wall, Joel’s creating a rhythm between your hips with each snap of his. Your legs wrap around his waist pulling him in deeper. Joel breaks away from the kiss and moans. He straight up moans, and it’s loud. No shame in the pleasure your tight fluttering hole is giving him.

“Ah, I’m going to cum!” His eyes shut, his mouth falls open and he’s in pure ecstasy as he shoots ropes of his seed into you. Your arms wrap around his neck, a layer of sweat all over his body as he twitch’s above you, slowing down his thrusts. His arms falling from their position to full engulf you with his body.

Not wanting to crush you he wraps his arms around you and rolls over pulling you with him. Now that you’re on top Joel’s completely relaxed. He’s in nirvana as you just lay together in a comfortable silence. Your head resting against his chest listening to his rapid heartbeat slowly regulate. His hand strokes your hair that’s fallen out of its neat bun. His breaths get deeper as he drifts asleep right under you.

“Love you darlin’. “ and there it is. That’s what you were worried about. Sex is no longer the fun thing the two of you were just doing. Joel’s in love. He’s in love with his daughter in law.

[hana-no-seiiki]

Good news. Did some decent progress on What’s Up Danger so you guys will finally get fed this Wednesday! Bad news, the quality might not be the best since I’m fasting while writing it oTL

Anyways, here are some Batfam w/ Cat Villain! Reader moments/snippets.

TW YANDERE AND MENTION OF NONCON/SOMNO

Both Jason and Reader’s first words to each other were, “What the fuck.”

Reader referring to Jason being a giant, and violent asf esp in comparison to Dick. While Jason was confused at his heart beating so fast and mildly crushing on you while you were fighting.

Bonus points: You guys did the spiderman point meme.

You have the biggest age gap with Dick. I headcannon the boys to be close in age so there wouldn’t be any not so good implications when it comes to relationships, but it’s almost unavoidable unless Batman switches sidekicks every year or so. (You are younger than Jason but older than Tim)

But that is also another reason why you two didn’t click as well as you did with Jason

You’d often make jokes or use slang and Dick would just be “???” He tried his best though.

On the reverse side of things, and like I mention before Tim and you got along too well as friends. He’s one of the few people you could gush to about literally any fandom and he somehow (through stalking your searches and literally every gadget/appliance you owned) knew everything about it already.

You two have written several theses on fellow vigilantes and villains (mostly ‘dumb’ ones like who has the best cake based on so and so criteria)

Damian is the best when it comes to bantering with you mid-fight. It’s the combined years of sass and assassin training. Went from plain insults to whole ass (not so) subtly being horny when you beat each other down.

He’s also the worst (best?) when it comes to your nicknames. He insists that you two use it on each other. Some exclusive while others he’s usually fine hearing from other mouths.

There was one point in time where you were called Kitten while the boys forced/bribed you to call them Daddy

Tim and Jason have tattoos of you/related to you.

For Jason it’s your name with a few paw prints, and for Tim it’s when he first fought you (and got his ass whooped)

After Jason came back and revealed himself to you, he tattooed the scratch marks you left him on his back after doing the deed.

Damian secretly practices doing henna so he can draw on you during your “wedding” since he doesn’t want anyone touching you. Sort of defeats the purpose, but go off king.

Being the thorough guy he is, he uses lab equipment to make his own blends.

Bruce? Bruce hates your ass. Sometimes it’s in a hatefuckey way but most of the time he blames you for corrupting his kids.

So he corrupted you in turn.

I feel like he gets off to cucking them honestly (blame that one comic) but if Reader is AFAB I wouldn’t be surprised if he impregnated them.

He’s a softie at heart when it comes to you though, courtesy of your similarities with Selina.

Speaking of, Talia adores you.

Like if there was anyone she would want with her son it was you.

She thinks the fact that you haven’t been put behind bars is a testament to your skill, and after getting over your similarity to her “rival in love” she would actively get you to be with her son.

Eventually she realizes she loves you more than Bruce and well, that’s a story for another fic.

You have at least a dozen trackers on you at all times.

Most of them you’ve ingested and pooped out.

It’s mostly Tim of course. But the duty of actually feeding you that stuff usually goes to Dick.

Dick has uh- somnophillia’ed you a fair bit after the break up.

He really, and I mean really likes to watch you sleep.

It reminds him of those ‘catnaps’ you’d take while watching over the Titans.

There would be times where he’d just be in a daze/in autopilot for hours reminiscing about your past together

His favorite memories to go back to were your first fight together, first kiss, and times under the sheets, and a date you guys had before in a festival/circus.

He never takes the antidote for Poison Ivy’s sex pollen and always comes to you for it, regardless of his or your relationship status.

Tim has at least a million typewritten chats with AI you, and around a few hundred hours of voice chats.

You did eventually take his virginity.

He came as soon as he was inside you/you were inside him.

You have been offered to be a part of the bat crew or a vigilante. But,

you massacred many after Jason’s supposed death and feel too guilty to call yourself anything other than a villain.

Chokers with bells. It’s a popular gift to give you. Especially ones that are custom made with expensive ass materials and engraving.

Sometimes Tim just gives you weapons.

Alfred is your best source of blackmail material.

You’ve actively tried cursing him (with immortality). You love the man.

He’s secretly the president of your official fanclub/fansite but you didn’t hear that from me.

You fight a lot with Damian’s pets. Like in a way that you turn into a literal cat and hiss at them.

And last but not least, you’re vv close with every member of the Teen Titans (besties with Rachel and Garfield)

NOT PROOFREAD!!!

@sophiethewitch1

[hor3nee]

• Union •

Gojo and his arranged marriage with Reader.

CW/TW: Fem! Reader, Arranged marriage, BREIF Suggestive stuff, Corny Gojo, Reader & Gojo ages implied to be very young (18-23), Gojo typical flirting, SFW (Lmk if I should add anything else!)

Characters: Gojo x Reader

AN: Gojo is bitchless in this fic bc I say so. Pt 2 here.

Weddings aren't supposed to be this boring. In fairness, boring is better than a bad wedding. Could have a roadhouse-type fight between in-laws, an ex breaking through the doors proclaiming their undying love or a runaway bride. Or a runaway groom. Maybe he should've been a runaway groom? Internally, Gojo's sure it'd be more exciting than sitting in a room full of family and 'friends' who are discussing his marriage more than he's even caring to think of it.

"Congratulations to The Strongest and his bride." Another blanked-out random voice says giving polite blessings to him and the lady dressed in bridal wear beside him, you.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest, they call him, well he calls himself, and yes, he is, he without a doubt is the strongest. Born with the Six Eyes technique after ages of the Gojo clan, while relevant in the Jujutsu world, unable to have a child with such technique for so long, Gojo was instantly hailed heir, no questions asked.

And with all of that, comes responsibilities, that, as immature as the man acts, he does take care of. Responsibilities include many things other than killing curses though, responsibilities include managing the clan, doing his part in Jujutsu society, mentoring the students and keeping peace with the other clans. Just to list the few, less action-based responsibilities. Marriage is an obvious one as well.

And you're the bride.

He knew it was coming. It wasn't specifically because he was the strongest he was gonna be strung into a marriage as quickly as possible, though that played a role in it. He saw it with his parents, relatives, and the other clans, Zenin especially who practiced it most rigidly perhaps, marriage was a necessary part of holding a certain status, it's simply expected. Arranged are ideal.

It's not that he was forced into it either, everyone knows this is Satoru Gojo, he does whatever he wants. He gets whatever he wants, he's spoiled, both by the hands of Jujutsu society that almost worships him for his abilities and his own self, the ego he holds very proudly and very loudly that he shamelessly keeps up. If he wants something, he takes it, if he doesn't, he'll leave. He holds that sort of irrefutable power.

So he's okay with this, with marriage. With an arranged marriage, to you, whatever his reasons are that much is clear.

"You gonna eat that?" He's not asking really, he's already got his freakishly long arm drawled out on the table grabbing the plate out of yours. Fingers wriggling comically and he doesn't even make eye contact, looking at the slice of cake with a deeper passion than he bothered to look at you with. Not that you're expecting it, but.. you are the bride, he is on board.

"..Uh guess not." Is all you can reply, slightly awkwardly as he snatches the slice and gobbles it, humming like an overgrown toddler. Was he feeling as awkward too? He didn't look it, he looked fine, bored out of his over-active mind but not mad or anything. Much less mad at you, nor nervous. You're sat close, right by his side, being the main events the two of you of course, Gojo more so because he's the main event in everything in his life.

"This shit's good." He's moaning now, at cake. Almost makes you cringe but with that huge grin of overabundant confidence he has, he somehow makes it seem less cringe.

"Wedding cake's always good-" He gulps down another piece as he speaks. "Best part of any wedding."

Was that?.. Was that an insult? Felt like it, you're sat there all prettied up prim and proper to marry him, and you know he accepted this marriage and he's calling the cake the best part of the wedding? No, you can't even blame him. If anything you probably agree, save for the overly expensive gifts of cold hard cash the other clans and guests were leaving those were also good parts. Because this is, arranged.

You two, are, for the most part, strangers to each other. Together yes, married actually since you and him signed the legal documents no less than 10 minutes earlier into the wedding.

Still, it's awkward.

Soon the cake is gone, mostly by Gojo's abyss of a stomach, and the guests leave. Caterers clean up and family members give some last tidings before leaving. As well as you, and Gojo.

"So, do you think I'm hot?" He perks, sprawled on the couch with his formal wear lazily pulled off scattering around the floor from when he took it off the instant he was inside the residence. His residence, of course. A grin showing no signs of the tense awkwardness one would expect a young man freshly married to a wife he's only married to through arrangements would be. But no, he's Satoru Gojo, if there's one thing he has, it's an overwhelming amount of self-assurance.

"Do I- Do I think you're hot?" You reply, standing a bit awkwardly in front of him, still trying to process the fact you're sleeping here tonight, no for the rest of your life you'll be sleeping in this house. Home, you should call it, it is your home now. Might take time to properly digest that but it is.

"Yeah, am I hot?" The question is, by his expression, obviously self-explained. He IS attractive, with pretty big blue eyes, tall and decently built, and gorgeous lips too, he knows it, he knows he's hot. Gojo just likes to tease, he's a little shit. 

"I mean, am I attractive to YOU?" He asks again, putting more emphasis. For all the slightly passive-aggressive things he's said the evening and immature behaviour, the question is poised genuinely. He's smirking, humming almost as he asks but the way he looks at you it's also clear that he is asking you, seriously.

His gaze never breaks with yours, and though you only take a second to respond, it feels like an hour with the heavy weight of the situation in your brain and the almost stinging feeling of his wide baby blue bright eyes piercing through yours waiting for your response.

"You... Yes, you are attractive." He is, he knows that already though and that wasn't what he was asking. But you know that wasn't what he asking. His expression doesn't falter though, but there's an obvious disappointment, boredom more specifically in it at your lack of response. You're talking but the words are white paper plain, even you can taste it on your tongue, how chaste you sound. 

"I think you're attractive, too." His reply is more genuine than yours as well, maybe not genuine but a lot more emotion in it. Maybe he's just more confident, which he is no doubt. 

"Thanks-"

"Like, seriously." He whistles, christ that's jarring. "seriously hot." 

He's up off the couch before you can give another disingenuous 'thanks' and standing right in front of you, eyeing you down with little to no attempt to act ceremoniously, which he was showing at least the faintest ounce of at the wedding earlier. That gawky tension of whatever the hell the two of you have going on is back, but not for Gojo. He doesn't even have a semblance of humility in him to feel that tension that's burning inside of you right now.

"We're supposed to like each other, you know." He adds, keeping his eyes trained on your body shamelessly.

It feels like his hands are folded around you but they aren't, they're hanging loosely by his side all dangly as his limbs are, the man is a giant. It's more a feeling, suffocating, as though you've been cornered when you aren't. It's the middle of a decently spaced living room and the front door is unlocked. And Gojo, as devious as his smirk is, would never hold you by the binds of a pressured marriage. If anything, you were almost under the assumption he didn't care for you, or this marriage.

"I guess, yeah." You start. "You like me then?" You finish, a bit bolder now, he's seamlessly talking and you are married now, till death do you part as they say. Might as well match his energy.

"You bet I do, sweetheart." Petnames? Okay maybe too much, he might need to dial it down. But Gojo is Gojo, the strongest, an eccentric man. He doesn't 'dial it down' for anything, or anyone. You're his wife, and he likes what he sees. Smiling as he speaks, genuine and concise in his words, he means what he says. As confusing as this situation is, he is young, he's accepted it, and not begrudgingly at all. "I got me a pretty wife- you, you're my wife, so I like you." 

"Thanks Gojo." Ah, there it is, not disingenuous. Though minimal he picks up on it, you also mean it. Maybe not in the way he means it, maybe more than he means it, who knows, not him. Confident as he says he is with the ladies, he's never actually been with one before, this whole relationship shtick, marriage shtick, is new.

Marriage is built off of love, his elders told him, he saw in shitty rom-coms and pop songs blasting the radio. He'd like that, love, as much immaturity and disregard he’s shown at the wedding, the engagement, the arrangements when he first heard they'd picked a partner for him, it has appeal. And he wants it, and this woman, you, you're going to be the one to give it to him, love. Not today, not tonight. Maybe not in a month or a year, but it'll grow, and fester over time. He's sure, as he is in everything, this marriage will last.

"I'm tired as hell from all that wedding crap," Gojo says, his feet ever so minimally backing off so he isn't smothering you with his presence and wide sapphire-like eyes boring into your understandably unsure eyes. "There's a guest room, I'll sleep there and you can take the main bedroom-"

"I can sleep with you." You cut him off.

"In the guest bedroom??" He questions with a blink, okay so he's a bit stupid. That's okay though.

"No, with you, in our bedroom." You correct him, feeling more assured now, eased by Gojo's, thankfully.

"Right." The cheeky grin is back. Actually, it isn't very annoying anymore, it's kinda attractive. He is attractive that much is sure, but he's starting to be attractive to you. "Let's go sleep in OUR bed then, how's that sound?" 

"Sounds good."

It's oddly domestic, the walk to the bedroom he previously had all to himself, showing you the way, and showing you the bed you're gonna be sleeping in for the rest of your days. The way his slender fingers, which you were almost sure would poke out your eyes, gracefully helped you dissemble the layers of jewelry and fabrics you were dolled up in. His touch was feather-light, in stark contrast to his smug demeanour, making it clear, the boy has never undressed a lady.

Nothing goes further than that though, he doesn't push for anything more, and considering how new and confusing everything still is, you don't either. Instead choosing to lay back, and shut your eyes beside Gojo, letting exhaustion overtake you both and just sleep for the night.

Sleep beside your husband.

[nebbyy]

hello could you do headcanons smut of baldwin and his chubby wife

King Baldwin x reader - Nsfw headcanons

A/N: Wow these is the first explicit stuff I write for Baldwin!! Thank you so much for this prompt, thinking of a chubby medieval woman makes me think of all the portraits of beautiful women with the most harmonious curves I've ever seen😩😩

As always painting name is Romeo and Juliet by Frank Bernard Dicksee for my art enthusiasts :))

Warning: SMUT, reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns!

Unlike modern times, a fuller body has always been sign of beauty and fertility through western history

Although during medieval times anything related to attractiveness and sensuality was deemed as "bad", that still meant that a chubby woman would've been judged not for being against the beauty standard, but to be actually too tempting for the public!

So it comes without saying that young king Baldwin thought he might pass out the first time he saw you, knowing you were his betrothed

You'd awakened something in him, this burning desire to have you, to know how your soft curves would feel in his hands, how your silky skin would brush against his own

I see him having a long series of consecutive days where he woke up drenched in sweat, body slightly trembling as he'd come out of yet another wet dream about you, lying beneath him as he had his sweet way with you

He felt himself getting more and more impatient for the wedding night day to come, to finally be able to call you his

He'd also be quite insecure at first, and scared too. What if the sight of his body repulsed you? What if you wouldn't want to go near him to avoid the risk of getting the disease as well?

He wouldn't blame you for it, it'd be the wiser decision for the both of you

But still, he prays and hopes and dreams that you'd return the attraction he felt from you from the very start. He longs for the feeling of your touch against his numb body

He's a bundle of nerves during the whole ceremony, but he's good at hiding it (well the veil covering his head is); he seems to all calm down only once you're both sitting next to each other at the banquet, and you tentatively lay your soft hand over his laying on the table, shy touches blessing his skin

That night your marriage is consumed in no time, he's basically as gentle as humanly possible while he holds you in his arms, as he's slowly penetrating you

There was no really developed knowledge of foreplay or female anatomy in the middle ages, but it just felt natural for Baldwin to keep his focus on your every reactions while the two of you are making love

He doesn't know what he's doing, and neither do you considering that at that time you probably haven't even seen a naked man other than Baldwin himself, but that doesn't stop the two of you from exploring each other, taking your time to get to know what you like, what makes your eyes roll back and your back arch

I'm not sure if he'd be down for oral, I kind of see him as being a bit self conscious of the level of decay his mouth and face has reached, and I'm not too sure his cum would actually taste good with leprosy and all

Nevertheless, his fingers and cock are more than enough to bring you more pleasure than you could ever imagine

Don't expect any public stuff, Baldwin is still an extremely religious man whose values are not to be messed with: these things are meant for the privacy of your quarters alone, there's no need for him to bring this sacred thing you two have out where all eyes could possibly see

He'd probably be more on the vanilla side, being mostly against anything related to giving pain (he'd be indifferent to receiving it since his body is mainly numb, but he wouldn't enjoy it either)

Although he would probably enjoy being the more dominant one in the bedroom, the power dynamic would still remain on a pretty balanced level: you're still his beloved wife, his only equal in his eyes. That's why I could confidently say that Baldwin is the perfect example of soft dom

His favorite position would probably be missionary, just so that he could be able to see your pretty face while he pounds into you

Also because he could get to hold your plush thighs and see the delightful rolls that form on your belly

Your body screams femininity and fertility to him, an alluring combination that gets him going for as much time as you two have

His numbness also grants him a reduced sensibility, so he can afford to go more rounds at a time without having too many problems from it

But as the years pass, his mobility becomes more restricted by his declining health, and along with his agility and stamina in battle his sickness gets the best of him even in the bedroom

And through it all, his burning desire for you was what got him going, what made him spare just a little more energies to later spend with you

The two of you would have to adapt, though, probably changing positions and frequency at which you guys have sex

You might start trying to be the one on top, and he'd guide your every movement while also trying not to lose his mind over just how perfect you look riding him, your every curve bouncing as you move up and down over his cock

He dreams of giving you a baby in those moments, filling you up to the brim, seeing your body get even fuller with your conjoint love. It really saddens him to think that it might never happen

But hope is the last one to die, and he gets his hopes up every time that he comes into your welcoming body, emptying his seed into you, hoping that one day this union will give life to a creature as beautiful as its mother