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sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 1 year

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~ Blossom of Affection | JJK

Pairing: CEO!husband!Jungkook x writer!fem!wife!Reader

Warnings: this is mostly fluff guys, a sprinkle of angst if you squint, idiots in love, more progress!, food ingestion. (let me know if I missed anything!)

Summary: We take another glimpse into yours and Jungkook's marriage and how things seem to be improving between you both. It all was perfect, it all was meant to last forever. That is his intention: to keep you by his side as Jungkook realised a truth his heart had known for quite sometime now. Affection bloomed in the desolated desert of the arrangement, now you both have to keep it and treasure that affection that morphed into something else without neither of you knowing about it.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N Hi guys! Welcome to the third chapter of "Sweet Marriage: A Handsome Husband Series" I hope you are as excited as I am for this part. I struggled a bit to write it as- well it's really fluffy and has the good stuff in it but I personally find it easier to write angst O.o

ALSO, thank you guys so much for 100 followers! You all make me so happy and I am over the moon there are people out there who enjoy my writing. I just finished writing this that I couldn't resist to publish it while also gifting you something for all the support I've received since I started this blog. Thank you so much, sweet ones! 💜💜💜

~ Let me know your thoughts in the comments please!

Drabbles are open for this series! 💜

Time seemed to fly when you were with Jungkook. It flew out of your hands, leaving you with sweet memories of shy smiles and delicate touches here and there.

Neither of you had brought the conversation with his parents at the restaurant. So it seemed that subject was clear, it would be explored in the future by the two of you. No-one else.

You were currently in the kitchen of the large apartment you shared with your handsome husband, you were looking down a list of ingredients and instructions as you were determined to cook Jungkook a nice meal for when he'd come home after work.

You wanted to surprise him, to thank him for all the soft attention he has had with you since the beginning of your married life alongside him. It was the least you could do and you sincerely hoped he'd like your little surprise and maybe allow you to do more things for him.

It was something you wanted, something your heart needed you to do. A soft smile was plastered on your face as you took out a knife from the drawer and prepared yourself to cut the vegetables.

The idea of making him something to eat came to you in the form of a YouTube video after having searched for tips for wives. And after reading the comments, you wanted to make something for Jungkook too. Hoping that he'd like what you'd cook for him.

"I already sent the report to Hoseok, he also confirmed the deal with Mr. Cha was closed. We expect the shipment to arrive on the 15th."

Jimin said, finishing his report to Jungkook. It was a normal day at the corporation, slightly busier than other days but nothing out of the ordinary.

"Thanks, Jimin-ah. If that was all, you may go."

The younger man began typing an email on his laptop for Mr. Cha thanking him for the deal they were able to pull together. Jungkook's eyes snapped forward, seeing as Jimin was still standing in front of his desk.

"Do you have anything else to tell me?"

The shorter man gave him a teasing smile that made Jungkook roll his eyes in an almost playful way as he shut down his laptop and paid his friend and colleague all his attention.

"Go on, spit it out."

Jimin was quick to take a seat in one of the two chairs in front of him. The eagerness radiated from his body like the heat from the sun.

"How are things going on? Between you and (y/n)?"

Jungkook sighed, his eyes locking momentarily on his silver wedding band around his finger.

"Fine, I guess."

Jimin clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Things cannot be just fine, Kook. In married life, things are either bad or good. Fine is practically a synonym for bad in this field, aish you still have a lot to learn."

The younger one frowned at his friend. He better have Mrs. Baek’s signature on the property contract instead of gossiping with him about his married life.

"Well, things are fine, Jimin. They are not perfect but they are not bad either. It is a slow progression."

"You wish for things to change yet you are scared of moving too fast, isn't it? I've met some couples in your same situation, Kookie, trust me it will get better."

Jungkook stared at his friend, there was a gleam in Jimin's eyes, his voice sounded more cheerful than usual.

"How do you know so much about married life when you are the most single person on Earth?"

Jimin laughed, throwing his head back as the sound resonated across the walls of the office.

"Coaches don't play, though I must admit I have played the game of love from time to time."

Jungkook's eyes widened. Rarely had his shorter friend spoken about his love life.

"But that is not the subject at hand, Kook. We are talking about your marriage, your love life."

The doe-eyed man let out a deep sigh, his mind raising with thoughts of you, memories he cherished deeply.

"Tell me, what is it about her that has you so enamoured?"

Jungkook thought for a moment, all those times he had felt his heart pound in his chest, when butterflies had fluttered in his stomach, when all his mind could think of was you and you alone.

"Everything about her, Jimin, is simply... mesmerising. I love her voice, her personality, that gleam in her eyes, the way she chews her bottom lip when she's writing, how she welcomes me home every day and waits for me no matter the time. Her mere existence is enough to make me happy. It's just... her."

Jimin smiled knowingly. Even when he could be seen as a flirt and sometimes a tease, he knew more about life than people often gave him credit for.

"You love her, don't you?"

The blond haired man said, almost as if stating it. He had once guessed the crush his friend had on his own wife; it wasn't difficult for him to tell when Jungkook, one of his most expressive friends, was in love.

The latter took a second to think about the statement. Only a second. He didn't need any longer as he nodded.

"I do. I think I have for a while, I just didn't want to... I don't know, accept it then tell her and for her to not accept my feelings."

Jungkook was aware of the name his heart screamed. It was now pointless to deny it any longer as he had voiced his feelings out loud. He was in love. He loved you. Something as normal as love in a married man was as foreign as water on Mars for him.

Sometimes Jungkook wished his marriage hadn't been arranged. He, more times than often thought about different ways he could have met you, made you fall in love with him and then marry you. But his parents had complicated everything, he had started that cycle from the back and now it was tough to approach step two: make you love him.

But maybe, if his parents hadn't married him off, perhaps he'd have never met you. You both would have existed like parallel lines, living the same timeline but never meant to meet.

Jungkook's wish was for you to love him. He thought he had to make you fall in love with him without knowing that in your heart, his name was engraved in the golden letters of forever.

You had just finished cooking some Japchae for when your husband came home. You were really proud of the final result and now you only had to wait for Jungkook to come back.

Giving that he had been leaving the company earlier than before, you didn't doubt that he'd be home by dinner time. Now you just had to wait a bit, killing some time while giving your novel a final read.

The clock ticked by slowly, as if your life was in slow motion. But then you heard it, the electronic lock unlocked with its usual noise, the door opened and in came Jungkook. You smiled, a motion that you couldn't stop. As involuntary as the beating of your heart. As inevitable as the rising of the sun every morning and the moon rising at night.

It just happened. Existed in and on itself. Like your love for your husband that was kept in unsaid words and longing gazes.

"You're back early."

Was what you said as you stood up from the couch and walked towards the main entrance. He smiled at you. In a soft way. Delicate. Like a rose petal.

Jungkook didn't know what to say, he was so happy with seeing you that all the words he had previously rehearsed in his mind were erased. As if white paint had fallen over a canvas. Hiding every trace of his thoughts. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, a gleam in his eyes found your own (e/c) pools.

He didn't say anything. No words would have been enough to express what he was feeling. There was no way to describe such emotions. Jungkook extended his arm towards you and you gasped as you saw what he held in his left hand, the silver wedding band in his finger stole your attention for a moment before your focus was on the bouquet of sunflowers he presented to you.

"Kook."

That nickname again. It escaped your lips without you noticing it. Not that he minded, a soft blush dusted his cheeks and butterflies swarmed in his stomach when your fingers grazed his own as you took the bouquet from his hold.

"I was on my way home when I saw the flowers and thought of you."

You smiled, trying to hide the gesture behind the beautiful yellow flowers. Butterflies flew in your stomach at his words. The look in his doe-eyes made you flustered.

"I really like them, thank you."

Jungkook looked down as a smile grew on his face as well. The moment itself was perfect, innocent in its own way. Romantic in the name of love. Pure.

"I... I also have something for you."

You said before biting your lower lip. You felt a sudden nervousness creep up your spine at the thought of presenting your dinner to your husband whom you married as a stranger yet now owned your mind and heart like he couldn't imagine.

"You do?"

He asked, impressed. Lifting an eyebrow in curiosity, he gazed into your eyes with sincerity and happiness. A concept that made you nod, not being able to word out your raging thoughts.

Your hand took a hold of his own. You burned at his touch and your heart sped up, you walked toward the dining room taking Jungkook with you. He couldn't help the eagerness that cursed through his body. A smile on his lips as he followed you across the apartment.

"I made you some dinner. I hope you will like it."

He smiled. How could he not? He looked down at you and if you had looked at him that exact moment you'd have seen the absolute adoration his heart held for you. The woman who was able to call herself his wife.

"Why don't you put your flowers in a vase and join me for dinner?"

You nodded, suddenly remembering that your hand was still holding his. You retrieved it from his hold and walked back to the kitchen, trying to hide your very obvious blush over your cheeks.

Jungkook chuckled to himself at your reaction while his heart swelled with love at the surprise you had for him. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't wished for this precise moment to happen as he had often heard some of his colleagues and employees - married men at that- comment about their respective wives' cooking.

Leaving the misogyny aside, he loved the thought. A soft act of service. A gentle reminder of love, an existing pattern of compromise.

You returned to the dining room carrying a heavy looking vase where the sunflowers rested. You put it on the centre of the table and turned to look at your husband, a nervous smile on your face, one that he'd describe as cute, was painted over your lips.

"I hope you are in the mood for some japchae."

Jungkook sat in front of you on the dining table. There was a plate with japchae in front of him as well as a bowl of white rice and a bottle of soju to enjoy. It was silent between you both, the only thing that could be heard in the grand space was the sound of cutlery hitting the plates, of soju being poured and some sighs at the delicious taste of the food.

"You... This is so good, (y/n)."

Exclaimed your husband, you chuckled at his reaction as you watched him enjoy the prepared glass noodles with a frown of pleasure between his brows. A gesture you couldn’t help but find cute.

"I'm glad you liked it. You can thank @tradiKfood on YouTube for the recipe."

He snorted, cheeks puffy with food and you laughed at his reaction. Jungkook noticed how much he liked that sound. Your laughter. It was sweet and breathy; refreshing like an autumn breeze on the beach during the early hours of the day. It sounded so carefree and safe. Genuine.

If you had been able to read his mind you'd have noticed how he vowed to himself to always make sure to hear that laughter. So joyous. So you.

"By the way, I have an appointment with my editor tomorrow."

He raised an eyebrow at you, swallowing his mouthful of food before saying, placing his chopsticks next to his bowl of rice.

"Really? Did you already finish your next book?"

You nodded in happiness and Jungkook couldn't feel more proud of you. He had read your first novel before you became his wife and he thought it was written so beautifully. The plot was amazing and the characterization was made with expertise. That was what he had thought. And that idea was still settled in his mind up until today.

You were a talented writer and he was sure you were going to get far with your amazing stories but he knew he'd be damned if he didn't offer you every kind of support at his reach to make your dreams come true.

"I did. I actually like how it ended, you know? I hope Mrs. Ming will share that thought with me."

He offered you a soft smile. And you took a second to marvel at how handsome your husband truly was. He had taken off his jacket, leaving him in only his white shirt with the first buttons open as well as rolled sleeves that revealed his inked art on his right arm. His dark hair was a bit dishevelled as he had run his hands over it once or twice since he arrived home.

His back faced the large windows that gave away the mesmerising view of the city lights, the moon was high on the night sky and the stars were in his big eyes.

"I wish I could read it."

You looked down at your unfinished bowl of rice as you tried to suppress a smile, a gesture that eventually marked your beautiful features.

"You can, once it's out."

You looked up at the sound of him clicking his tongue only to laugh at his expression, brows furrowed and lips pouting. He looked cute. And that was saying something given how hot and handsome he looked at that moment.

"I know it will be amazing."

His words warmed your heart. The love for your work had come to you in many ways but to hear such praise from your husband who you were madly in love with meant the entire world to you. Maybe even more.

"Thanks, Kook."

He smiled. Absolutely loving how that nickname sounded on your lips. He wanted to hear it every day, every morning when he woke up and every night when he came back from work. It meant something because it was you who were saying it. You made it special, like a magic charm only you had over his life.

Enchanting his days, bewitching his soul, transfiguring his life as the owner of his heart.

The night was still young. You were curled over the couch, eyes trained on the large TV hanging from the wall as you watched a movie. But this time it was different all because of a certain someone sitting next to you. And that someone was Jungkook.

He had also changed into more comfortable clothes, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt on. You wore your soft and comfortable nightgown in a light shade of blue.

The two of you decided to watch a movie before going to sleep. He suggested it, you accepted. With the one and only purpose to be close to him for a bit longer, even if you two weren't talking, if you weren't directly seeing him, the quality time still counted and fuelled your heart.

Jungkook felt how his heart sped up when you sat next to him on the couch, your eyes were trained on the large screen but he was going to enjoy this time with you. This indirect coexistence. It was natural on its own, lovely so as to describe it somehow.

You tucked your knees up to your chest, completely invested in the plot of the movie unaware of the soft and longing gazes your husband sent your way from now and then.

Is this how it feels?

Jungkook asked himself as his dark eyes rested on your side profile, the movie plot could be damned as he had the most beautiful woman on earth sitting right next to him.

Is this how it is to fall in love?

You smiled at the screen, laughing softly at one of the dialogues he didn't hear. You turned to look at him, a smile on your face and he felt how his world stopped turning. It was magical. Like a spell you casted over him. Like a sweet candy after taking a sour medicine.

You bit your lip and directed your gaze back to the TV but your focus was on your husband. He occupied your mind, owned your thoughts, claimed your soul without knowing. Your heart soared at the fact of having him so close.

So close yet so far. There were so many things you wanted to say, so many things you needed him to know, things you wished to speak about. But he was unreachable in that level of intimacy. Something you wish to break and you thought that the crystal wall that existed between you both was already cracking. Cracking with the dagger of love. Of the blossom of affection that began to grow in between the marriage.

"Love is not something to be ashamed of, you should tell her."

Said one of the characters in the movie. That single sentence of dialogue felt like a punch to reality for Jungkook. Should he really tell you?

"But what if she doesn't love me back? I prefer to love her in silence, in silence there is no refusal on her part."

This movie was getting too personal for Jungkook. Those thoughts had also swarmed in his head for so long. Days in which his mind was plagued with the image of you, when your voice spoke his thoughts and your presence invaded his heart.

He looked at you softly, watching how you relaxed on the couch and covered your mouth with the back of your hand as you yawned.

"It's late, (y/n). Do you want to go to bed?"

But you shook your head, a sleepy expression on your face as you looked at your husband, loving the caring tone in his voice.

"No, I wanna see when he confesses."

He chuckled, running a hand through his already messy hair.

"You can always watch it later, it's on Netflix for a reason."

You shook your head again, a cute pout over your lips.

"But I want to watch it with you."

That left him speechless. His mind was blank, an empty canvas with no words for him to express freely. You did that to him, that and other many things he had only experimented with you by his side.

Jungkook lifted his arm and rested it on the back of the couch before his hand took a hold of your shoulder as he pushed you towards him. It was a bold move. You gasped. Thankful that the flat was swimming in darkness so that your husband couldn't see your pretty obvious blush painting your cheeks.

A second passed in silence, then another and another. Maybe a minute or it could have been an hour in which the both of you stayed there, too stunned to speak, too afraid to break the moment.

"Just relax, if you fall asleep you could fall off the couch and hurt yourself."

Lame, he thought to himself. Jungkook mentally slapped himself at the weak excuse he said, he thought it was stupid. His brain malfunctioned when you were this close yet it also pressured him to say something so as to break any crumbs of awkwardness between you both.

"Thanks."

You replied, feeling your skin burning where he touched you, tingles travelled up your spine and along your body. It was magical. Perfect. As if he had planned it all completely when it had only been a spur of the moment.

After some time leaning against Jungkook, you relaxed completely so as to rest your head on his shoulder. The motion made his breath hitch in his throat. He was the most fortunate man in that moment, in that fragment of time for he was able to hold you and keep you close.

You trusted him, you were safe being near him and that made his heart soar with happiness. The simple fact that you stayed by his side willingly made him feel happiness like never before. Fortunate. Lucky. Chosen.

The one and only man who was destined to love you, he was meant to worship you as his wife, to protect you from the world and to give you all the love he was physically capable of carrying in his heart.

The soft patter of rain against the large windows reached his ears and calmed his soul. It was perfect, that exact moment was absolute and pure perfection. The definition of that word was that moment, with light rain falling over Seoul, a nice movie as background noise with you cuddled by his side in cosy clothes.

Jungkook felt your body lean further into him as you grew lax in his embrace, the soft sound of your calming breathing made him smile, squeezing your shoulder a bit from where his hand rested against you. He knew you were tired but the mere thought of you wanting to stay a bit longer by his side warmed his heart.

He looked down at you, eyes trailing over your sleeping figure. He smiled in adoration, in contemplation, in admiration. In love.

As discreetly as possible he paused the movie and turned the TV off, leaving the apartment in an aerie silence. Only the sound of rain along with this racing heart were heard. His inked hand caressed your cheek in a delicate motion. Almost as if you were a glass doll and he was afraid of breaking you.

Because you were so precious to him, his perfect gem he ought to keep, love and protect. As a husband, as your lover but most importantly, as your man. For he was already yours even if, in the end, you’d change your mind and left him with his own memories of you. He was yours. In this life and the next one.

When Jungkook loved, he loved hard. Completely. Wholeheartedly. And now, you were the owner of that love.

Your skin was soft under his touch, slightly chilly from the coolness of the flat but soft nonetheless. As soft as he had ever touched in his life. Jungkook lifted you into his arms, cradling you against his chest with precise yet gentle movements as he began walking towards your shared bedroom.

Passing Bam’s house on the way, he smiled at his already sleeping Dobermann before resuming his destination while carrying you in his arms. If you had been awake at that moment, you’d have heard the loud thumping of his heart beneath his ribcage. It was such a strong motion Jungkook feared for a second his heart was going to leave its confinement.

He laid you down on the bed delicately, making sure you were comfortable enough before he climbed on his side of the bed and dropped the cover over you both, chasing the chill away and enveloping you in a warmth that dropped you further into the land of dreams.

His hand found your own underneath the blankets, long fingers trailed softly over your wedding band. The sign to the world that you belong with Jungkook. A promise of respect and love; of sincerity and happiness.

“I love you, (y/n).”

Those whispered words were meant for your ears only, but not yet for your mind to comprehend. However, Jungkook couldn’t live another minute on this Earth without him speaking such words of adoration.

The whisper was so soft that only he could hear it, afraid that if he spoke any louder the perfect moment would shatter like a glass colliding with the merciless reality. He wished to persevere in your affection, a blooming love that grew in between the cracks of a twisted marriage.

“I love you so much, my (y/n).”

You turned to him in your sleep and had it not been for the darkness of the bedroom, the blush in his cheeks would have been evident as you pressed yourself to his chest, your face nuzzled into him as you sighed in your unconscious state. Almost as if you had heard him declare his love for you, perhaps you had. But he couldn’t know that.

It was a simple assumption that pierced his thoughts over the blossom of affection between you two. Between husband and wife and the slits of unspoken love in the middle of the relationship.

Maybe it had been arranged, but that doesn’t mean the feelings were fake. It was a move of fate, a destined meeting. The blooming of care and its transformation to love. It all happened for a reason, and there was nothing Jungkook desired more than for you to stay by his side forever and claim that place next to him; the place of his wife. Loved by her husband in a world of lies and vanities but with affection still able to bloom and grow in the depths of his heart that only screamed your name.

~Masterpost

Sept/17/2023

~ Drabbles are open for this au! My inbox is open, darlings!

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

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dreams-and-drabbles · 2 years

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The Gloves

My self indulgent fic, as this particular villain has been on my mind…

Love, you think, while scanning the shelves in the clothing store—

Is wholly irrational.

You grab a pair of fur rimmed gloves, with a faint smile on your face.

Who would fall in love with someone that could, probably would, kill them?

Evidently, you would…

Part of you wondered why—

Why exactly did you fall for the whiny, controlling, wholly irredeemable, person that was Shigaraki Tomura?

Even the other members of the League grew exasperated with him, not that they’d say anything about it.

He was too strong…

Too much of a risk…

You weren’t sure why you’d fallen for him, although you had your suspicions—-

There was that time he helped you beat that boss in your game—

It was the first one on one interaction the two of you had. You’d been with the league for maybe a week at the time, and he’d been mad at first. You had been swearing up a storm, quite loudly at that, and Shigaraki had not appreciated the noise. He’d barged into the room, demanding for you to shut up, when he’d noticed the cause of your frustration—-

The supposedly unbeatable boss in your game…

Shigaraki had asked you to pass him your console, which you did begrudgingly, because you didn’t want to risk arguing—

To your surprise, instead of wrecking your console, Shigaraki wrecked the boss…

You’d been so excited in the moment, that you’d thrown yourself at him for a hug, which he skillfully dodged, before asking “What the fuck was wrong is you?”

Your response had been a sheepish grin and apologize, but somehow after that—

Shigaraki had cemented his place in your life as your ‘carry’—

The two of you, unfortunately ((fortunately )) made up the whole of video game loving league members…

Kurogiri had the bar to tend, Toga had people to stab, Dabi had arson to commit and heroes to purge, Twice had—

Well, Twice had a bit of everything. He cooked, he cleaned, he did karaoke, and gods…

… You miss him…

Still, that left you and Shigaraki, and your video games.

It became surprisingly easy to look past his initial bossiness, as you’d discovered when the two of you played games.

Sure, it could be a bit vexing at times, but 9/10 it paid off to heed his advice….

This was something you also noticed, applied to League activities, as well…

The more you overlooked things, the more you found that you genuinely enjoyed the time you spent with Shigaraki—

Playing games, watching anime, occasionally even drinking at the bar…

It was no secret to any of the members of the League that you were rather close with your boss…

When you’d decided to buy him a gift, you’d struggled at first.

He had most of the newly released games, and as much as you enjoyed gaming with him, it didn’t feel quite right to gift him one…

Neither, did it feel right to gift him a new series or merchandise…

That was how you found yourself picking the gloves. Perhaps it was your wish to show how you valued your time together, or perhaps it was a way to show that you wished to grow closer…

Whatever your reasoning, you returned to the base, gloves in tow.

When you handed Shigaraki the package, he’d been surprised at first. You watched with a hawk like gaze as he opened the package taking out the gloves. He paused, staring at you blankly—

“What am I supposed to do with these?”

You resisted the urge to chuckle, offering Shigaraki a small smile.

“You could always wear them… I thought it may make things easier when we played games, and it is getting cold—“

You explained, slipping into a ramble.

Shigaraki huffed, setting the gloves to the side.

“Shut up. You’re going to give me a headache… Thanks, I guess…”

You offered him a small smile, thinking to yourself once more…

Love was wholly irrational.

#bnha x reader #shigaraki x reader #boku no hero academia #bnha reader insert #shigaraki fanfiction

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moccahobi · 8 months

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Tangled Mess: Game Night 2

Summary: Yoongi is struggling with his feelings and his relationships.

Paring: Hoseok x GN Reader, Yoongi x Jungkook

Genre: Soulmate AU, Grad School AU, Young Professional AU, Angst, Fluff

Warnings: A Breakup

Word Count: 627 words

A/N: I may get behind on updating links, but all the fics and the masterlist will have the tag "series: tangled mess" if the links aren't updated~

Part 5 << Masterlist >> Next Part (Return 2/7)

Jungkook was avoiding Yoongi. He watches as the man pushes Y/n while laughing loudly, hurt and anger brewing in his heart. Just last month Jungkook had asked to spend more time together! And now he’s avoiding Yoongi as if his life depended on it.

Sure Yoongi said he couldn’t hang out *one* time shortly after their dinner together but that was because he needed a bit more time to mentally prepare himself! Truly how could one expect Yoongi to survive when Jungkook (in his ripped glory) texts saying he just got out of the gym and wanted to get lamb skewers together. Yoongi might have proposed! And Jungkook doesn’t even know of Yoongi’s feelings.

He never will.

It was easier… safer… better to keep his feelings to himself.

Besides, it wasn’t as if Jungkook was really obviously ignoring him. Maybe Jungkook just got busy. How infrequent is it that a friend (who normally asks to hang once a week at least) stops initiating texts. Yoongi had sent a few instagram posts that reminded him of Jungkook and Jungkook responded! They chatted a bit… but nothing more… and Jungkook hadn’t gone over to Yoongi since either.

Guess he didn’t actually need Yoongi time.

“You good?” Hoseok asked, sitting down next to Yoongi on the couch.

“Yeah. Of course.” Yoongi said, guilt growing as he realized how little he’d paid to Hoseok who seemed to always be somewhat on edge with Y/n. Given… if Yoongi had brought a person into the friend group because they had a public break up with their partner of a year and now knew no one in town who wasn’t associated with said ex, Yoongi would also be on edge, “How are you doing, Hoseok?”

“Absolutely chipper. Just not wanting to game tonight.”

“Same.”

Jungkook got up to go to the kitchen and Yoongi didn’t know what possessed him but he patted Hoseok’s thigh and got up to follow. Later he might feel guilty for not talking to Hoseok more but he couldn’t stop himself from going to Jungkook They were alone in the kitchen and Yoongi felt haunted by the things he did last time the two hung out. He was too close.

“Oh! Hey, Hyung!” Jungkook’s eyes weren’t shining like the stars were held hostage in them.

In fact, they looked sad. Jungkook looked sad.

“You ok?” Yoongi asked, his mood souring more than it was before.

Jungkook’s eyes widened in shock before he sighed, “No I’m not. Honestly, I am hurt.”

“What why?” Yoongi struggled to come closer to Jungkook, hating how he hunched in on himself and played with his hands, the glass of whatever he got long forgotten.

“I was vulnerable with you last time we hung out and you seemed receptive. Nothing changed though. I kept waiting for you to initiate something. Did… Did I do something to push you away?”

Yoongi’s world stopped. He stopped breathing. He stopped thinking. He stopped doing anything.

Except hurt Jungkook apparently.

“We… we don’t need to talk about it tonight… it’s supposed to be a fun night after all… but I hate how much distance is between us.” Jungkook comes closer and for once in way too long, he initiates hand holding. Jungkook’s hands are cold and clammy and everything Yoongi hates about touching others, but he doesn’t pull away. He can’t.

“I… I honestly wasn’t expecting this… I don’t know what I expected,” Yoongi sighed and squeezed Jungkook’s hand, “You did nothing wrong. It’s… I don’t know how to explain it but it’s all on me. Maybe we can talk about it later this week?”

Jungkook nodded.

“But… Kook, know that it’s nothing about us or something you did or anything. Hyung will make this right. I promise.”

#wkcnet #bts #hoseok #jhope #yoongi #suga #jungkook #bts fanfic #bts fan fic #bts angst #bts mxr #bts supernatural au #bts soulmate au #bts mxm #yoonkook #series: tangled mess

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icancdramahanfu · 2 years

Note

Hello! I am looking to cosplay wei wuxian and/or xie lian(from the donghua) can you please describe the layers of their clothes, I have zero experience in sewing clothes or pattern making and I have no idea where to even begin. Thank you very much!

Hello there, Sorry for the slow reply, I've been distracted by real life and my continued PT for my wrist. But I can type much more normally at least now. As far as Wei Wuxian, I haven't really looked at his outfits seeing that he's got so many different versions in the live action CQL/The Untamed and in the MDZS donghua and manhua as well. I'm not a huge fan of MDZS, so, I can admit I haven't paid much attention to it. I think like most MXTX characters, he relies on a heavy black/red color palette and is pretty open to interpretation. I think focusing on the donghua would be your best bet since when you have to animate someone you would simplify their outfit, but the drama might have more realistic clothing to draw from since and actor wore it. Xie Lian is considerably easier since he wears many layers of white. I think the main thing to realize with all these outfits is that you have a foundation layer and then multiple layers over top with great variations.

The foundation layer (zhong yi) is usually the skin layer in white (cotton/linen) that it is breathable and washable. It seems for a more dramatic effect a character like WWX will have this as black. This is a top and pants combo, but I was lazy and skipped out on pants for my Wen Kexing b/c it was very warm already. I don't use Taobao sites (no Chinese skillz here) but it might be worth your while to look at some of the hanfu retailers to see how they construct their tidy little package outfits.

Like Hanfu Story which has a very good website and plenty of english language descriptions. Even though the colors aren't plain white, this one has a very close match to what XL wears. It has the skirt with the slight pleating like XL and simple sleeves and cut.

It is interesting to note that many of these outfits only sell the top layers, not that base layer.

When it comes to determining the exact layers just look at the neckline, that pretty much lets you know what else is on top of that base layer.

If this is your first time sewing and drafting a pattern, I would enlist the help of a friend who may have more sewing experience. Also, since many of these outfits don't reveal the full aspect of all of their layers, you have to guess what you think is underneath - that is what I did after lots of screen shots from as many angles as possible - or hoping for a zhong yi late night confession scene (as in Word of Honor) which allowed me to nail the sleeve shape for all the layers. I'll do and example with XL since his outfit is much easier.

As we can see here, he's only got two layers.

The inner layer is more form fitting in the torso, with wide-ish sleeves. The skirt portion appears to be pleated, which is why we get a ripple effect in the front. It appears the outer layer is a simple straight hem robe with wider sleeves that he wears very loosely since it flares back. You can't tell from this picture but the left side should also have a slit that runs along the left side of his body to allow for easy movement - it isn't a full rap around robe structure. He has a narrow belt that is tied off with the cyan colored cord and his bandages and basic hat. I haven't watched the donghua for awhile so I can't remember if he also has pants on underneath the pleated skirt. I'd go back and refer to the scene where San Lang notices the shackle on his ankle to see what he's wearing then.

When it comes to picking a layer to draft first for the pattern, it really doesn't matter. You will need to make a mock up and adjust. If you want it to be the inner layer it will need to be the same length but less wide than the outer layer. I just made a pattern and tested it out - it was terrible but hey, I knew where to go from after that. Good luck and hope this helps!

#answered asks #hanfu pattern #mens hanfu #xie lian #wei wuxian #cosplay #hanfu pattern drafting #diy #sewing hanfu

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sanddusted-wisteria · 1 year

Text

Latet Enim Veritas [Part 2/3]

Truth is indeed hidden...

F!Builder/Grace; fluff and angst

Warnings: Spoilers for Act 3. Major character death(?), mentions of animal death

Summary: Wisteria and Grace are still talking, even a hundred miles apart.

But is it easier or harder to hide the truth in letters?

Also on AO3

prev | next | index

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

A/N: So uh…turns out the brainrot don't stop, and here I am again with Wis and Grace! Once again, I have no idea how this happened, but it's hereeeee

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Hey Wis,

What’s up? Sorry it took me so long to write. Had a lot to do once I got back to Atara. My professors were really interested to hear about all the relic discoveries we made in Sandrock. Gotta say, the entire field’s real pumped up about what we found. We got experts writing articles left and right about em. I’ve been making talks everywhere too. So many great questions! I’m pooped. But I think I’m back on my Atara schedule now. Feels weird after getting used to the Sandrock pace of life.

But anyway, that’s pretty much it for me. Just gotta keep going with my studies. How’ve you been? How’s Sandrock doing? Heard the Portia tunnel was just built. I can’t wait to see it when I get back!

Grace

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Hey Grace!

It’s so good to hear from you! I’m still building (obviously). And yeah, the tunnel’s done, FINALLY. Had to deal with a nasty giant worm in there, but we got it. We started taking on some other projects too, now that the whole bandit situation’s wrapped up. We’re getting a school now! An old house just became available, so we’re building it on top of that. And with the road to Portia, we’re gonna try planting some more trees! Don’t think I’ve ever seen Zeke or Trudy so excited. And then a Geegler showed up one day from the canyon! He was the same guy that was trying to use a train to take over Sandrock all that time ago and broke the bridge. Name’s Larry. Seems like he’s good now…although he’s taken over your job at the saloon. Hope you don’t mind…

Oh yeah, and we got a new commissioner too. SOMEhow, it so happened to be Yan’s twin brother. Oh, and Yan apparently has a twin brother. Luckily he’s a lot more…like an actual human being than Yan was. Well, maybe. Man’s got skin like he’s twenty and says he’s more than twice my age… But at least he’s running a fair and tight ship. My guard’s not down yet, though.

How’d the meeting with your boss go? Never a fun thing to have a 1-on-1 with the boss. Trust me, I know. Hope it went okay. Hope you can come back soon.

Wis

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Wis,

The meeting wasn’t as bad as I thought, honestly! The board of directors weren’t super thrilled with the rules violations, but the results speak for themselves, don’t they? Couple of them even commended my quick critical decision making! They let me off scot-free. Not even a warning or anything.

I just submitted my capstone yesterday. Just a final note to the whole Sandrock adventure. It felt really weird stamping it and packing it in the envelope and handing it in. Still feels weird. Thought I’d be throwing a huge celebration when I was done with this project, with drinks and everything. But all I wanted was to go to bed. So that’s what I did.

Slept like a log, even though it was pretty noisy upstairs. Sounded like they were throwing a parade or something up there with all the stomping and the music. Kinda feels nice to have a noisy neighbor every once in a while, I guess. Makes it feel a little less lonely. Especially since I haven’t seen you guys in so long. I really, really hope I can visit soon.

Grace

P.S.: Managed to hear some rumors that that new commissioner of yours is legit. Apparently his death certificate was forged?? Yan must’ve paid someone a pretty penny to get rid of him…or maybe not, since, y’know, he’s still alive.

P.P.S: Ha ha, now a Geegler’s taken over my job, huh? Well, as long as he can cook a proper omelet, I guess I can’t really complain. Maybe he can teach me some stuff when I get back. Wonder what Geeglers normally eat.

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

Grace,

I still miss you. We all do over here. The saloon doesn’t feel the same without you around. But don’t worry! We’re not going anywhere. The whole bandit situation proved that. Once you’re back, we can have that big celebration you planned.

How’s the archeology work and stuff? Not sure if the field’s cooled down by now and moved on to the next big thing. Hard to say from over here. It’s been like 2 months and Qi still won’t shut up about the spaceships. Not that I mind. Don’t think I’ve ever seen him so enthused about anything. And this time it doesn’t involve any property damage, so that’s a net positive!

Sandrock’s mostly still the same old. Only real difference is that Haru left pretty recently, though. He’s off to study chemistry in Atara. It’s great that he finally has the chance to chase his dreams. He told me to wish you well.

In other news, we planted a bunch of trees, but a sandstorm took them out. But we’re not giving up. There’s an Old World lab of some kind that’s supposed to have some different algae that we can try to make biocrust with. We’re going to explore it in a bit. Hopefully I can take some notes and pictures for you while I’m down there.

Be sure to get enough sleep, okay? Work’s important, but you can’t do it if you’re sleep-deprived.

Wis

P.S.: Wei’s proving himself…but my hackles aren’t down yet.

P.P.S.: Larry’s actually a pretty decent chef! Shame he can’t really partake in the fruits of his labor, though. Geeglers mostly eat algae. Apparently those algae machines we’ve been remaking are their “meal machines.” Fang’s been testing what human foods he’s able to eat. But even so, there is only ever ONE Grace Sand Omelet.

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

It was warm.

Warm air, warm food, warm lights.

Warm heart.

Owen raised his glass and said something. Grace couldn’t hear exactly what it was, but his smile and his voice were warm.

One by one, everyone around the table raised their glass. Heidi. Logan. Andy. Haru. Qi (begrudgingly).

And last of all, right by her side, Wis.

They all drank and laughed and went back to chatting amongst themselves.

Except Wis. She simply put her glass down and turned to Grace, all the warmth of the room reflected in her eyes. She lifted a gentle hand to Grace’s cheek and leaned in.

It was so very warm.

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

Grace woke up slowly. Pleasantly. A nice change of pace from forced wake-ups and diligently-set alarms.

She curled tighter into her blankets, trying to hold the warmth in her stomach inside just a little longer. She stole a glance at Wis’s last letter on her nightstand.

I still miss you.

Her chest ached as the warmth faded. She sighed. Well, that was that.

She got up, washed up, and changed, then sat down at her desk to pen her reply.

Wis,

I miss you too. Last night I

She froze. What the hell? Why would she write that down?! “Last night I dreamed that you kissed me”? “Last night I realized I missed you more than anything”? “Last night I figured my chances of seeing you again are even slimmer now”? Well, she could salvage it with something more innocuous…

I miss you too. Last night I dreamed I was back in Sandrock and we were holding that party I was talking about. Don’t remember all the details, but I knew I was really happy.

Heh, funny you mentioned Qi. We’ve been getting his reports on the regular nowadays to assess the area as time goes on. And they are LONG. Like “I don’t even know how he’s typing all this through the telegraph” long. Poor telegrapher’s gotta work in shifts to get the whole thing down. And then we’ve got a committee that simplifies what he gives us. And then another committee goes in and simplifies THAT before it gets to my bosses.

But anyway, it looks like the gist of it is that the region’s pretty non-hazardous now. Y’know, since the pest removal and all the broken relics were so effective. Unfortunately…that means I probably won’t get another assignment for the Sandrock region anytime soon. Unless one of you guys starts wrecking the whole place again, I dunno. (Please do not do that.)

Kinda sucks, but at least we can still keep in touch this way. Maybe that’s why I dreamt about you guys last night. Hope you get the tree problem sorted. You guys always find a way.

Grace

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

Grace,

Huh. Strange coincidence. I dreamed about you being back too. We were just hanging out at the bar like usual. Think I ordered my usual? Can’t remember. The kitchen wasn’t on fire, so I guess it was a good day!

And yeah, we did get the tree problem sorted…hopefully. We did end up finding some new algae machines in there, so we’re trying those out. Fingers crossed. Didn’t get any notes for you, though. Sorry. There were some leftover Geeglers in there, and they were not friendly. Apparently Larry’s no longer the boss. Ah well. Guess we have something to do when you get back. And you WILL be back some day. I know it. I’ll be waiting. :)

Wis

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

Wis opened up her mailbox and shuffled through the usual junk mail.

Nothing from Grace.

She sighed. “3 weeks…”

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

Hey Wis,

Sorry it’s been so long since I last wrote. I’ve just been sooo busy lately. Wish I could give you more details, but…you know. I’ve hardly had any energy left after I come home at night. I just take a quick shower and collapse into bed.

But anyways, how’ve you been? I’m sure there’s plenty of exciting new things going on in Sandrock. Fill me in!

Grace

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

Grace,

You doing okay? You don’t need to tell me all the details, but still. Letters are still kinda slow even with express postage, but if you’re ever having a bad day/week/whatever, you can talk to me.

Not sure if you have any friends over in Atara, but maybe you should take some time off and hang out with them. Take a walk. Go to a nice restaurant. Just get your head away from work for a bit, y’know? Then you can come back at it with fresh eyes.

You’re strong, I know, but don’t forget to take care of yourself.

Wis

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

Wis,

It kinda slipped my mind when we were at the station, but I wanted to give you the photo I included with this letter. It’s me with my old partner, Cookie. We were still in training then. He was such a good boy. Did a lot of early missions with me.

But…on one mission…I lost him. I’ll spare you the details, but it hit me hard. Still does, really.

Ever since then, I’ve kinda kept people at an arm’s length. Part of the job, I guess. I interviewed a bunch of new archeologist recruits the other day, and they all came in with such high hopes in their eyes… I just dunno how to tell them what it’s really like here. I have some friends, not a whole lot outside the archeology field. We hang out sometimes and it’s fun, but I still feel the struggle to connect sometimes. You’re the first person in a good long while to really get to know me.

Sorry for unloading all of that onto you so suddenly. I’m fine, though. Really. Although…a little PTO isn’t a bad idea.

Grace

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

Grace,

I’m so sorry about Cookie… I’m sure he was every bit as good as he looks. Since you’re giving this to me, I figured I should return the favor. Hopefully it won’t get lost in the mail…

And I understand. Making real, true friends is hard. I never really made any good friends at the Builder’s Academy either. Though one of them ended up saving my skin when my old workshop closed down. So even distant friends can be important. Can’t imagine what it’s like in your shoes.

If nothing else, at least, you have me. And again, if you’re ever feeling pressed, you can talk to me. Always.

Wis

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

Grace laid on her bed, staring at the photo in her hand in the dim lamplight.

It was Wis sitting on the ground outside her front door, cradling a grumpy-looking Banjo in her lap with a grin on her face, while Nemo jumped up excitedly next to her.

A faint smile rose on Grace’s lips. It’d been so long since she’d last seen Wis. Well, outside her dreams, that is.

Her eyes grew heavy. Another long day. She’d get up to tuck this somewhere safe…right after…she gave her eyes…a quick rest…

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

Sunsets were always better in the desert. Not only was the sky more colorful, but the beautiful reds and oranges of the sands made it all pop that much more.

Grace breathed in a deep lungful of fresh, crisp air, letting it out as a content sigh. This was her favorite time of day.

She waved goodbye to Owen and set out towards the train station. For home.

She glanced over to the distant mountain range as she crossed the tracks. The sun was just starting to sink behind the tallest peak. Beautiful.

But not as beautiful as…

An excited barking got her attention. She looked back down again to see Nemo running up to her.

“Hi, Nemo!” she giggled as he yipped and ran circles around her legs. “Is Wisty not playing with you? Aw, she’s no fun…”

“Just give me a second…” came a groan from the workshop yard. “Don’t steal my doggy, Grace…”

“Too late!” Grace chimed, leaning down to give Nemo a well-deserved scratch. “He’s mine now.”

“Well, doggone it,” Wis said, finally popping up from whatever machine she was working at. “My girlfriend dognapped my dog. I can’t believe it. I’m really in the doghouse now. Ohhh nooo.”

Grace couldn’t help but laugh at the stupid look on Wis’s face as she made her way out to her and Nemo.

“Well, even if Nemo’s yours…” Wis murmured as she drew closer. “You’re still mine.”

Grace felt the gentlest peck on her cheek.

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

Grace,

Everything okay? It’s been a while since I heard from you. Work’s probably been super busy for you. Just give me a quick check up reply when you next get the chance. No biggie.

Wis

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

Grace,

Hey, not sure you saw my last letter… Sorry about this if you did. I’m just a bit antsier about getting a reply since your last letter. Hope you’re still okay.

Wis

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

Grace,

It’s been about a month now… I’m getting kind of worried now. I know field work is dangerous, so not getting anything from you has me wondering if you’re still alive… You don’t need to send an essay, just…a sign? Just a “hi”? Even a blank piece of paper in an envelope? Anything so I can at least make sure you’re still around.

Wis

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

Hey Wis,

I’m really sorry about the wait. I’m still alive and kicking, don’t you worry. Work’s just been exhausting still. I can’t really make the time to sit down and write. We’ve been looking into a whole slew of relics around the Alliance lately. Lots of data crunching. I’m still doing fine, I promise. Just reading your words is so comforting to me. But what’s new with you? I’m sure at this point, I probably won’t even be able to recognize Sandrock if I saw it! You guys are just so involved! Still a TBD on a return date…

Grace

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

You know, Grace…

Somehow I feel like it’s easier for me to tell when you’re being dishonest when it’s through writing. Dunno why. Maybe it’s because I can read it over again as much as I need to and take all the time I need to craft an answer.

You don’t need to sugarcoat things for me, okay? You never did back then. Why start now? I don’t know if it’s because you don’t want me to worry or you don’t want to talk about it, but I want to hear it. Whatever it is.

I hope that I’m not your only source of comfort right now, but if I am…then let me be that. I’ll be here for you as much as I can. I promise.

Wis

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

Grace sat at her desk, a blank sheet of paper in front of her, reading Wis’s letter over and over and over again. Wis wasn’t here. She was a hundred miles away.

So why could Grace feel her eyes boring straight into her head?

She stared at the blank page on the table. It almost felt like it was mocking her. Or maybe that was the sleep deprivation talking.

Grace groaned. She’d finally carved out a good hour to write back to Wis, and here she was with nothing to say. Why oh why did Wis always have to hit her hardest when Grace was weakest?

She really is good at this, a distant part of Grace’s mind hummed.

Grace put her head on the desk, cushioning it with her arms. She stared at the small desk clock nearby as her designated writing hour slowly tick, tick, ticked away…until it was over. And she had nothing to show for it.

She let out a sigh and got up, rubbing her eyes. Time for a shower. She felt filthy. Maybe she could handle this tomorrow…

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

Grace watched out the window as the train pulled to a stop. Good ol’ Sandrock. Same as ever, it seemed. Somehow, though, there was a different kind of energy to the place. Alive. Crackling with potential. She let the soaring feeling in her heart take hold. She could do that now. Let loose how she really felt. At that thought, she felt her pulse start to race. How she really felt…

As soon as the door opened, she bolted out and across the tracks. Fresh Pines was still lively as ever, machines churning away and generator humming. And of course, there was Wisteria, busy as ever. She was tending to the garden patch next to her front door, her back to Grace as she overturned the dirt. Looked like she had some new seeds coming in.

Grace felt her pulse thudding in her ears. She swallowed and put on a playful smile. “Hey.”

Wis looked up from her gardening, staring blankly at Grace over her shoulder.

Grace snorted. “Missed me, Wisty?”

Wis only continued to stare. Grace’s smile fell. She should’ve laughed or smiled or…something.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”

Grace’s stomach dropped. “Huh? Um…oh, are you doing a bit…? Heh heh, good one…” she laughed with a shaky smile.

Wis still didn’t react. “Who are you?”

“I’m–I–it’s…me. It’s Grace.” Icy fear ran through her veins.

Wis’s eyes bore into Grace’s. Why did they look so dull…?

“…Liar.”

She turned back to her digging.

Grace suddenly felt nauseous. She reached out for her, only to see her hands were trembling.

“Wis…Wisteria…I promise, it’s me. It’s really me! N-no more secrets this time, I’m done with—!” She let out a startled yelp. Just as she had gotten close enough to place a hand on Wis’s shoulder, she’d gotten too close to the front door. In the glass of the windowpane, her reflection stared back at her.

Or at least, what was left of it.

A blank face, framed with her blonde hair.

Liar.

A horrid stench filled Grace’s nostrils. She lurched as the nausea got worse. She knew that smell from anywhere. It was a corpse. But where?

Grace tore her eyes away from the glass and looked around. It wasn’t long before she found the source.

Right under Wis’s shovel.

A partially unearthed body.

With Grace’s face.

Decaying and decrepit.

Liar. Liar.

She suddenly heard sniffling. Her eyes darted up to Wis. She was shaking with quiet sobs, head against one arm leaning against the wall of the house, her other hand clutching her chest.

Grace felt her heart wrench. She tried to reach for Wis again. “Wisty…Wisty, no…I-I’m here, it’s okay, I—” Her throat suddenly closed up. As if something was choking her. She grabbed at her neck, trying desperately to free it. But it was in vain. Nothing was there.

Liar. Liar. Liar.

Tears squeezed out of Grace’s eyes as she flailed about uselessly. She wanted Wisty’s tears to stop. She wanted to hold her until everything was okay. She wanted to spill everything that she kept sealed inside her for so, so long. She wanted her to know everything. She wanted to feel safe. She wanted to feel known. She wanted—

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

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Grace jolted awake with a startled gasp. Her head was pounding. She slammed her hand down on her alarm clock.

Better. But not by much.

She reached a tentative hand up to her neck. Nothing was there.

She stared blankly at a spot on her blanket, trying to slow her breathing down. Swallowing, her eyes found the blank sheet of paper still on her desk, Wis’s letter sitting next to it.

She threw the blankets off and yanked out her desk chair. Her grip on the pen was tight enough to make her knuckles turn white. She forced the tip to the page. A spot of ink pooled under where it met the paper. She willed her hand to move.

Wisteria,

Her heart was pounding. What should she say? What was the best thing she could say? What could get her the info she needed in this scenario? How could she talk her way out of this? What did her handbook say? Remember your training, remember what they told you—

…

What do I really want to say…?

…

Wisteria,

I love you

There was a sharp knock at the door. A message slid under the crack.

Briefing at 1100

Grace’s mouth twisted into a grimace. The next mission. What a day to get all the details finally sorted. She flicked open her lighter to dispose of the message. As the slip burned to ashes, her mind wandered to the other paper sitting so innocently on her desk. She sighed. It was 1030. She’d have to finish it later.

After the last remnants of the paper were flicked away, Grace tucked the unfinished letter away between some books.

As she plodded to the briefing room along the barren hallways of HQ, she tried to push down the growing unease in her gut.

She couldn’t.

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

Mission objectives: Investigate increasingly suspicious activity in the Northern Eufaula region. Duvosian involvement suspected. Capture or eliminate any Duvosian spies or military entities. Oversee restabilization in the aftermath.

Risk: Potentially life-threatening.

Start date: Tomorrow, 1200 hours. Move to Northern Eufaula base. Await further orders.

Grace was back to staring at the page on her desk, uneasier than ever.

I love you.

She wanted to say it. She really, truly did. She wanted Wis to know. Even if she didn’t love her back. But now…

I love you.

Now she was dumping this new mission onto her, too. Her life was on the line. Whatever she wrote here could be her last words to her.

I love you.

Did she want her last words to be that big of a bombshell? Throw Wis into perpetual uncertainty while the mission happened? Not even sure if Grace was alive or dead?

I love you.

Make the grief even worse…?

Grace took a deep breath. The last thing she needed on a dangerous mission was knowing that Wis was worried for her. But either way, Wis would be worried. There was no way for Grace to reach her from out there. She couldn’t control that.

But she could control something else. So she was going to make a gambit. Gamble on Wis’s worry overtaking her reason for the briefest moment. Her eyes would gloss over the finer details. And Grace could veil the truth that she desperately wanted to share.

She tossed the old letter and got a fresh sheet.

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

Wisteria,

I’ve got my next assignment.

Let it be known that it’s a big one. Life’s on the line.

Orders are orders, though.

Very soon, I’ll be heading out.

Even if everything goes according to plan, it’s dicey.

You might be wondering if I can ever get back to Sandrock now.

Once this is over, I’ll do my best to get there. I’m not 100% confident, though.

Until then.

Grace

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

Grace.

Even when you tell me your deepest secrets, you still talk in riddles.

I love you too, alright?

Maybe it’s not my place to pry, and I know I can’t get all the details, but I still just…don’t understand you sometimes. You told me that you wanted a deeper connection that you couldn’t get on the job. That kind of connection is made when you’re vulnerable with each other. You see each other at your weakest and your worst and you choose to keep pushing forward, side by side. In spite of everything. In spite of each other.

I’ve felt that with you sometimes. We’ve come so close to really being at the level you really wish for. When you talked to me about Cookie, I felt it. And so did you, I wager. But even so…you still want to keep a part of you sealed away.

Are you scared? Are you scared of me? Are you scared of yourself? I don’t know what else could be holding you back as much as you have.

I’m sorry if I’m being overbearing. Part of it’s because I’m worried. You’re the most capable and competent person I’ve ever met. But you’re still human, at the end of the day.

The other part of it is because I can see that this is something you want. More than archeology, more than the awards. More than anything.

You want to be you.

Really, truly you.

And I love you.

The real, true you.

Even the parts I have yet to see or learn about.

I have no idea if this’ll make it to you. You’ve probably already been out there for a while by the time I got your letter. But I wanted to get that off my chest. And to let you know that I’m still waiting for you here. All of us are (yes, even Qi. He’s just a dingus about it).

Stay safe. Please. I believe in you, even if you don’t.

And when you come back to Sandrock, we can talk. For real.

Love,

Wisteria

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

Wis opened up her mailbox. Only one thing in there today. She took it out, looking at the envelope to see…her own handwriting? And it was addressed to Grace…

Her heart froze.

Clutching the letter tightly, she ran off to find Jasmine. Fresh Pines was the last stop on the mail route, so she should be heading back to Construction Junction…

“Jazz! Hey, Jazz!” Wis called as she spotted Jasmine skipping after Macchiato, who probably caught wind of someone cooking something good. She stopped in her tracks and beamed up at Wis.

“Hey, Miss Wis! What’s up?”

“Jazz, do you know what happened to this letter?” Wis held out the letter in her hands, trying not to clench too hard and wrinkle it.

“Oh…” Jasmine hummed with a finger on her chin. “Yeah, the Atara Post Office said that there wasn’t anyone named Grace at that address. So they put the big ‘Return to Sender’ stamp on it.”

Wis suddenly felt a little dizzy. “Oh. I see…”

“But that doesn’t make any sense!” Jasmine exclaimed. “Miss Grace was real! We really knew her!”

“Yeah, w-we did…”

“Maybe she just changed her address? Forgot to tell all of us, though. Ma’s getting a little worried.”

“Mm-hmm…”

“But I’m sure she’ll tell us real soon, Miss Wis!” she shouted, loud enough to give Wis a jolt. “She’s still got our addresses, so she’ll probably write soon!”

Wis let out a chuckle. “You’re right. I hope so. Thanks, Jazz.”

“You’re welcome! See ya!” Jasmine replied, before running off to catch up with Macchiato.

Standing alone in the square, Wis sighed and looked down at the unsent letter. She remembered the night she wrote it, frustrated and exhausted. She’d tossed out at least 10 different versions before this one. Some were too angry. Others too self-pitying. Others too long-winded. Even now, she had doubts if this was really what she wanted to say.

Regardless, though, there was one sentiment she knew to be entirely true, no matter how she shouted or spat or sobbed it.

I love you too.

She sighed again and headed back home. She tucked the letter away on her desk under a large stack of other papers.

Then she headed out to start her workday. But all the while, her mind stirred, always coming back to one question:

Was it better or worse that it never reached her?

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

Atara Times

Northern Eufaula Espionage Plans Foiled! Duvos Spies Captured!

Some time ago, the Northern Eufaula Development Plan jumped into full swing, but not without its share of complications. In an incredible twist of events, an investigation by the Alliance Council uncovered that some of the problems were in fact part of a deliberate campaign of disruption.

Who is this dastardly foe? Well, let's ask one simple question. If the Northern Development Plan is to fail, who is to gain? None other than the Duvos Empire!

How did this happen? In order to counter the Duvos activities, Alliance Central Intelligence carried out Operation Weeding. This operation quickly and efficiently identified and eliminated the Duvos infiltration, and effectively restored order to the Northern Development Plan once again. Currently, the plan as already initiated three settlements across the Northern Eufaula, next to the Duvos border.

Unfortunately, three Alliance operatives' lives were lost in the process. The youngest of them was a young woman in her twenties. She had achieved outstanding military achievements throughout her career and had made a lasting impact on the safety of the Free Cities. We shall never know the names of these brave heroes, but we, all of us, owe them our safety.

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

There was a knock at the door.

Wis didn’t move.

The knocking came back.

“Wisty?” It was Heidi. “Everythin’...well, I don’t suppose anythin’s alright…”

Wis stared at a knot in the wood floor.

“I’m comin’ in, okay? Got some fresh grub from the Blue Moon…”

The door creaked open. Sunlight spilled in.

Wis pulled the blankets over her head.

“Wisty…”

…

“I, um… I asked Trudy if she could get any info, but the Alliance ain’t talkin’… as we’d expect from military types, I guess…”

…

“Uh, technically speakin’…there could’ve been a lot of twenty-somethin’ ladies out there. I don’t wanna jump to conclusions either way, of course, but still…”

…

“I’m still holdin’ out hope. But…I know it’s hard. I know how much you cared about her.”

A tear slipped out of Wis’s eye.

“…I still got your back, Wisty. No matter what.”

Wis choked on a sob. More and more tears flooded out of her eyes. She felt Heidi hug her from outside the blanket, whispering soothing words.

There in the dark, she shook. Left to choke on words that would never be heard. Left to cling to hope that she didn’t hold.

Left to feel a love too late to be received.

A/N: Thanks for reading! There'll be one last part after this.

And icymi, I posted a quick status update on Builder, Researcher, Rooftop, if you've been following that! (psst...it has some sneak peeks of act 2)

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#HOW DID THIS END UP BEING 5K WORDS AAAAAAA #i have other things to do #but sandrock #my time at sandrock #mtas fanfic #shady's fics #mtas grace #mtas spoilers #vov

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dmagedgoods · 1 year

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15 and 23 for rowley!!

Aaaa, I can finally answer those questions! Yes, I am really that slow. 😔 But while I saw enough spoilers I already had an idea what Rowley's approach would be, I didn't want to guess without truly seeing it. Anyway! I finally did see it. So here we go. Thank you so much for the questions! ❤

15. How did the situation with the Grove, the Tieflings and the Goblins turn out for your Character? (15) Not as terrible as I thought it would turn out. 😂 While Rowley is by no means an altruistic character and stays out of things unless paid well or entertains himself by just watching, those tieflings were very lucky to have two people among them who reminded him of someone. The first is Zevlor. He stood up for the group of tieflings in the grove, showed the demeanor and authority of a true leader – tired and probably bitter because of all the shit he went through during his life and still firm in the most important thing: the wish to protect his people. Rowley recognized his military background and the connected pragmatism and skill, but without the dogmatism he detests. All of this is not only a combination he secretly admires but also made him think of an old friend: His former commander during his own time as a soldier and the only one he ever took orders from. The second one is Mattis, the little rogue in training who tried to trick him and has a lot of Rowley himself when he was his age. Rowley offered Zevlor his service as an assassin, but it was more: Without admitting it, he genuinely wanted to make sure Zevlor and his people and the tiefling kids would make it. So, he researched against Kagha and assassinated her when he had the necessary information to avoid an attack. Out of pure fun, he stole the idol afterward. Though, he gave his trophy to Mol when he met her later. Rowley freed Sazza to make things easier for himself, let her talk him into the goblin camp with the intention to assassinate the three leaders stealthily. Priestess Gut ended up in her own chest, Minthara was sent away, but unfortunately, Dror Ragzlan’s death didn’t go unnoticed. Therefore, the foolish goblins attacked him and had to die. In the end, the only one alive in the camp was Sazza who acted smart and didn’t join the battle. Afterward, Rowley freed Halsin. (Who, interestingly, was nowhere to be seen during the battle at the grove despite telling him he’d meet him there.) Because of his sympathy for the tieflings, Rowley didn’t truly consider working with Minthara (what, in any other case, he would have thought about) but he enjoyed the battle and only knocked her out instead of killing her and even tossed a potion of healing in her direction. (I strongly assume this won’t lead to any result, but it’s nice to know she’s alive. Maybe she’ll be back one day and try to take revenge on him.) 23. What are your Character’s thoughts on the dream visitor? (23) The face and body the dream visitor wears when appearing for Rowley belong to the character I mentioned when I wrote about Zevlor: Rowley’s old friend and commander. This gives him the [unplanned when I made him because I knew nothing back then] advantage of Rowley feeling a certain subconscious affection and respect for him, even if he knows it's not him. Still, Rowley was (and is) skeptical. – Not to an intense degree but he doesn’t trust a stranger (even if he aims to seem familiar) and believes that he helps without something in mind to gain or demand in return. So far, he doesn’t care much about that point though. He assumes the dream visitor will name his price for his protection eventually and then he’ll decide if he’s willing to pay it. For now, he seems to be temporarily safe from turning into a mind flayer and this means he can relax (slightly at last) and has more room to consider different steps instead of urgently running from useless healer to even more useless healer. He doesn’t plan to listen to the dream visitor and consume more tadpoles, though, and ignores that he urges him to. After all, he survives just fine without them and he doesn’t truly like their influence in his mind. At the same time, he mostly keeps a neutral stand about the dream visitor and the tadpoles towards his companions. If they want to consume them, they are free to go for it, if they don’t, he definitely won’t try to convince them, he’s not the type to tell others what to do.

(Although he feels some … concern that Astarion might overdo it and would tell him so and ask him not to should it come to it.)

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #tav #my ocs #oc: rowley #ask games #dmagedtexts #bg 3 spoilers

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incarnateirony · 1 year

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Mm, one thing I am not looking forward to with the other GM, as much as I love him as a typist, is the inevitable backhanded BTS measure of trying to override 900 pages of story by wandering in and declaring something, and I fully expect that to happen. He is Very Proud Of Playing God, and when he realized that the way he set up Becoming God off of another character's work was being undone by the very campaign he asked me to run, because that's why he used the character's work to do it, it became WELL ACTUALLY--HE DID IT HIMSELF BEFORE THAT. AND SOMETHING ETERNAL ANNOYING LA MULANA DUNGEON.

And like, bro. You are literally not going to be able to bitch the players into hailing Lord Rando As The Supreme when they witnessed the beginning of existence and FUCK ALL, YOU WEREN'T THERE, you were just some dude in the way to get there a few times. Yeah, the moral is, as Kion said, they are all their own lords, and we together, all for one, and one as the All, creation is what we make of it. That was always the goddamn point of the device he implied made his dude god. And like. Nobody cares about your guy, guy.

It's a delivery thing he still hasn't understood, you can't just wander in and throw things and demand people care, as per the whole idea of his past "hints" that he wants people to break down to extremes as if they are by default expected to know how god "should" act and care deeply about his state, and like, fuck all no he was being an annoying douche the whole time the like. 3 times he showed up being the opposite of helpful.

Randomly declaring things once a month to assert power is not even GM attitude, it's just obnoxious player attitude. They just spent 3 months rearranging creation itself in SPITE of your dude to make the world in the image of their own dreams and learn how to build better things when they get back to ~reality, they have climbed the world trees, stood at the edge of the void, they have faced life, and death, and cosmic soup, and whatever the fuck. Why the fuck will they want to find him for any other reason than to beat his ass?

Like right now everyone's saying their tearful goodbyes to a character they helped mold over these months, and teach each other together, and hope they might meet again, or at least be allowed to not forget what happened and who they knew and what they did together. Nobody cares if your dude comes in squawking IM GOD. No the fuck you aren't, you're a pain in the ass with no establishment that keeps cropping up at bad times doing stupid shit that hampers them. They're god, or at worst, their dead friend is god, because on him the world will turn, forever, self born by his own design for everything. You're. A guy who pushed a button then tried to change the backstory three times.

Neither plots nor people work like that dude.

And he gets real proud like, LOOK HOW MUCH JALIM LEARNED FROM ZENTO while even making the bad guy blink at, how the fuck did you take it like that. ok whatever easier for me I guess. And like. Character growth is great and all, but at best that's still a player path sticking on a GM badge and calling itself god. I don't know if I'd agree with the growth since the last act he did could have severely fucked the heroes in another arrangement. Luckily they moved too fast for god's fuckup to backfire on them. But the whole "I say a speech I think sounds good, pound my chest and fuck off to the wind after making everyone's lives around me hell but swearing up and down I helped" is a player brain, not a GM.

There was even a time like, he shook a defeated enemy awake not realizing what he was doing because he hadn't paid attention to the plot for real for shit (which I understand now he didn't the first time either), and like, no your dead friend is this monster they just put down. I kept trying to deflect you doing it but you insisted and it woke up so all the heroes responded and heard your argument and realized you fucking woke Death back up. Like. Six hours after they had defeated him, no less. "Well he destroyed the pillar that had to be done" bro it was already destroyed, River destroyed it in the fight, it reconstituted as the reflection of his presence when you forced it back up. You're patting yourself on the back for making a problem then fixing it. I'm not letting you take that from the heroes or the one that actually destroyed it. That's just spinning your wheels to try to reinforce your godness.

The irony is, he swears he gets this, plays his weird version of the collective, vaguely cites the theology, but then insists on trying to come in, alone, and change everything. When literally the ending is no, you are all your own lords, the soul is supreme and in this moment, we are One. Facing the call to destruction or search for emptiness, the conflict of how everything came from the nothing. It literally required EXTENSIVE planning IC and OOC both, players coordinating deeply against seemingly impossible odds. You have said many times your character refuses to enter the city because of XYZ excuse. You insisted on trying to do this alone, against the plot morals, which is why it went bad every time, because you weren't listening or paying attention. So there's just. Twenty levels of irony.

"Well my job keeps me busy and I can't read all-" Shhh. sh sh sh stop right there. No. Almost every player has a job. One has three jobs. They manage to connect, coordinate, read along, or ask questions when they get lost, they work with everybody. So if you got the time to build the world's most retarded La Mulana knockoff to send people through, you had the time to read. The matter is, you didn't care and you thought you knew better. Now this would make an excellent narrative about demiurges/pankrators like Chuck if it was on purpose but instead you're making it a commentary on humanity because the point is sailing over your head and you keep trying to retroact him into things he literally Does Not Fit.

The whole. Oh my character was just a griffin that died and got found by a god to become powerful but a slave and met Kion and became friends and Hit The Button To Save Him In Error And Became God except SURPRISE now I"m saying it was something different vs

Developed campaign that existed before this one and before the dude hit the button on a multiplanar journey across the cosmos and ancient memory showing that the person who created The Button and the city built on his pure willpower was, in fact, always created and trained for this role (and its opposite), he fits every bill on the mythology you try to use, you don't. You played some dude that kept falling in holes to become a bigger god and are trying to claim yourself the All and Void both. And yeah the moral is the soul is always an oxymoron like that but so is everyone's. You didn't come from the void, you weren't self born, you are not The Great Dragon or The Great Teacher, you are not the Workman, or the Master Builder, you are none of the things, but saying I Am All sounds hella neat and powerful, but you're not grokking what you're even trying to fucking present while kicking in the door with a funny song to melt down five planes because YOU WEREN'T LISTENING.

Like, this be mine, and the campaign is a success because everyone, the players, AS the collective shaped it correctly. He pays lipservice to the ideas but throws out randos doing nonsense actions and calls it the collective, or insists he is The One or The All while simultaneously refusing to join the others, and so on and it's like. bro. give it up. you said you wanted the campaign, you were clearly aware of at least the base potential implied in Xorv, you don't just cling to a godtitle. And no don't say it's for GM purposes if you're only NOW thinking up a knockoff dungeon with no real form, history or purpose that will at best be highly obnoxious. Just admit you had no plan. You had 3 months while I ran this to come up with more than "my current favorite game to clone is--"

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shiroi---kumo · 1 year

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I'd rather be blind || Accepting

@flameleads has concerns:

[ Blindfold ] Roy approached with quiet footsteps and sat across from White Cloud. He paused for a few seconds as he gathered his thoughts. Only when he felt he had a good handle on them did he speak. "Yö tervehtii, ystäväni," he started, hoping his practice with the Lieutenant paid off. To be quite honest, he liked the Misterican phrasing for greeting the night and day. In at least three of the languages he knew, one always assumed mornings and evenings would be good, and he found that presumptuous. But, that was not why he was here. He had something far more important to discuss. "You love him---Kain, I mean." As if he could mean anyone else. "I can tell. And he loves you. In my culture, this is often the part where someone sits you down and says, 'Don't hurt him.' I know you would never intentionally do that, so that's not why I'm here. I'm here because that man became part of my family several years ago, and you became part of my family recently. I care about both of you a lot. I've just known Kain a lot longer, and I've seen him grow. He's passionate, smart, and one of the kindest humans I've ever met. Sometimes, though, I think he forgets that, or he forgets to take care of himself. He got used to not putting himself first." Roy let out a sigh before he continued. "Ignore that it's my ass saying that. I know I do it too. I guess what I'm trying to say is... take care of him for me, all right? Do that by taking care of yourself and by showing him it's all right for him to put himself first once in a while. And keep him safe. I know you can do that, but I have to say it."

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ He sets with his hands in his lap and he counts the steps as they move closer. He listens to the sound of the heart thudding in the chest before him and he is careful to take in the sound of each and every inflection.

Eversti.

He needed to talk to him about ... Kain.

He knew this conversation was coming but he was almost hoping he would have done it without his eyes covered. Perhaps it's just easier to talk to him in truth this way. He's not here with ill will, just concern - so he has nothing to hold against him.

"I do."

It's such a simple phrase to fall from his lips but he takes a moment to pull in a gentle breath before he starts to explain.

"I want to give the rest of my life to him."

There is only truth in his words and his body remains unflinching as he says them. When he thinks of Kain his cheeks grow warm and his chest gets tight. Kain is warm arms wrapping around him and a hand that clenches his own so tight. Kain is a smile that makes his body feel light and a heartbeat that makes his head spin.

That man makes him feel like he's walking on air and that's saying something since he actually can.

"Even if - even if my soul should give out soon, I want Kain to have all the time I have left... and I - I have explained ... I have shown the state of my life to him. You need not worry about that. I have been open and honest with him on such a subject and he is aware of the state of my soul and my relationship to the Maken. He is also aware of Lady Tiamat and my relationship to her. I have not kept these things from him."

He's sighing as his shoulders drop, hands moving to stitch together as they start to fidget amongst themselves.

"I promise to care for him in every way I am able and to give him everything he needs and desires. I will care for him with everything I am. Eversti, I promise. I ... I love him."

#meme || i'd rather be blind #like fire and morning mist || flameleads #flameleads #ask || inquires of the cloud #topic: kain #tw; death

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whimsicaldragonette · 2 years

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Audio ARC Review: Marvel's Guardians of the Galaxy: No Guts, No Glory by M.K. England

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Publication Date: November 2, 2021

Synopsis:

The official prequel novel to Marvel’s Guardians of the Galaxy, the hotly anticipated action-adventure game developed by Eidos-Montréal and published by Square Enix. Star-Lord, Gamora, Drax the Destroyer, Rocket Racoon and Groot. They’re the Guardians of the Galaxy, turning a tidy profit as heroes for hire—or, they will be if Peter Quill can get his act together. After he botches the most critical part of their latest mission—getting paid—his newly assembled crew is close to ditching him for good. Now he needs a big payday, fast. When an old acquaintance shows up offering a whole lot of units for a field trip to Peter’s past, it’s a no-brainer. Thirteen years ago, Peter fought the Chitauri alongside the Resistance on Mercury to prevent an invasion of Earth. Now it’s time to go back. The old Resistance base has a squatter, and it’s up to the Guardians to ‘gently escort’ them off the premises… and unmask a wartime traitor while they’re at it. But war is heavy, man, and the Galactic War screwed up each of the Guardians in their own special ways. The brand-new team is barely hanging together, and the mission brings up all kinds of bad memories. It’s make or break time for the Guardians, and they do so love breaking things… Just hopefully not each other.

My Rating: ★★

*My Review below the cut

My Review:

I somehow missed the “official prequel to the blockbuster video game” on the cover of this. As I haven’t played the game, I think I am missing key details that would make me care more about the events within the book. Additionally, I haven’t seen the Guardians of the Galaxy and related Marvel movies (just the trailers) — which means I’m missing a LOT of key details and most importantly, the characters’ canon personalities and interactions. I requested this solely because I have loved everything MK England has written and I assumed I would love this as well, despite not being familiar with the franchise. I have read other books and fanfictions of franchises I am unfamiliar with and loved them in the past. However this… missed the mark for me. I liked the plot all right, but I didn’t really care about any of the characters. Additionally, it was confusing with the way it was structured. It is divided into sections that alternate between the present and the past, 12 years earlier. I listened to the audio, which made it very difficult to flip back and check whether I was in the present or the past. I think the confusion stemmed mostly mostly from the fact that both feature Peter getting into scrapes, fighting for his life, etc but with a different set of crewmates each time. The characters weren’t distinct enough for me to easily tell which scenario I was in sometimes, especially with similar battle scenes and running from the enemy scenes in each. Also they were all — especially Peter AKA Star Lord — a little annoying. He was very much a bumbling fool who is eternally optimistic and somehow always comes out on top while everything and everyone around him falls to pieces and I’m not really a fan of that character type. I was into it, but not really, I guess? Like I cared enough to keep listening, but not enough to choose to listen over doing/reading other things. I actually listened to half of this and then put it down for eight months and by the time I decided to give it a second chance, I’d forgotten enough details that I had to start over from the beginning. This should have made it easier to tell whether I was in the present or past in any given scene, but they still blurred together for me. I realized eventually that I was having trouble distinguishing between Gamora (present) and Ko-Rel (past) in their interactions with Peter. At 80% in I can’t really tell you the point of it all. Things keep happening but they don’t make any impact on me. I’m in the midst of the plot twist / confrontation with the enemy and I think I’m going to put it down again because I have other things to read that will hopefully hold my attention more. I think this would go over well with fans of the movies and games franchises as well as those who like an emphasis on space action/battle scenes and not so much character development. The narrator was fairly good and did a decent job giving the characters different voices (except for some of his female voices which were difficult to tell apart, possibly contributing to my confusion.) I found his voice a bit on the annoying side, though I don’t know how much of it was his voice and how much of it was his voicing of Peter as the POV character (who I also found annoying). He also tended toward the dramatic, but that’s understandable given the amount of battles and narrow escapes and arguments between the (very dysfunctional) characters. *Thanks to NetGalley and Dreamscape Media (Marvel) for providing an audio arc for review.

#netgalley #arc review #shilo reads #audio arc review

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bunnhop · 2 months

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Mintrei’s Journal – Episode 1: New (Lease on) Life

Published: March 15, 2024 Last Updated on March 16, 2024

(Reposted from bunnhop.com)

17 Last Seed, Sundas

I had always known that today would be a memorable one, but I had never expected it to be like this.

Aunt Faraniel and Uncle Elthras had warned me beforehand about crossing the border into Skyrim, with all the recent uproar caused by a group called the “Stormcloaks.” But the peaceful journey from the Imperial City to Bruma–not to mention the melancholy stirring deep within me as I was quietly bidding my home farewell in my own way, by taking a final glance at each of the buildings, trees, and the people I passed by on my carriage–lulled me into a sense of calm. I know I should have been more anxious, as this was my first trip by my lonesome outside the borders of Cyrodiil, but I guess all the worries that had plagued my mind days before my departure had finally taken their toll.

It was either this, pure naivety, or mere arrogance that had led me to make a mistake that almost caused me my life. The truth is–I didn’t want my “new life” to start as a Suliven. Having just come of age and brimming with a taste for adventure, I decided long ago to shed everything that had any indication of my family and their ties to the Camoran Dynasty. I wanted to explore a new country as myself, a young Bosmer with a passion for music and learning, although I am fully aware that things would be a lot easier–and today would have been much safer–if I had just taken the carriage all the way to my destination.

Instead, I got off at the last inn, paid the driver–who wished me luck–and trekked all the way to the other side of the border by myself.

Before I could admire the beauty of the famed Throat of the World from afar, sounds of shouting and horses galloping pierced through my senses...

The next thing I knew, I was in a cart with three other fellows–Nords. I was startled by the sight of them and thoughts raced through my mind. Was I being kidnapped? But nobody knew of my plans to leave the Imperial City, except for my aunt and uncle.

Panicked, I attempted to flee only to find out that I was bound–and so were they. They weren’t my captors, but the Imperial soldiers. I could feel my face burning at this very realization. Some of my peers joined up recently, and their parents, veterans. Surely, if they knew who I am, they would let me go?

Unfortunately, I had no time to explain myself. The soldiers thought I was with this burly man called “Ulfric” who happens to be the Stormcloaks’ leader–that I was one of them.

We got off the carriage and were placed in a queue, with a brown-haired Nord taking our names. He seemed sympathetic, noting that I wasn’t part of their kill-list, but his captain still asked for my head. One of us tried to flee, but to no avail.

And then, my turn came. Memories of pleasant life in the City flashed before my eyes–aunt, uncle, my dear friend Cassia, her brother Claudius, and what fun we had as kids… All the joy, ruined by one intrusive thought: should I have never left?

I was expecting a deafening silence to loom over me, signifying the end of my short existence. Instead, a deafening scream followed. I looked up and saw… a beast. A dragon! Did my death lead me to… Oblivion?

What came next was chaos. The soldiers attempted to defeat it or, at least, ward it off, while the villagers ran to safety. One of the captive Nords named Ralof successfully roused me from my confusion, and I hurriedly followed him and his master Ulfric to a keep. Unfortunately, we were separated. I didn’t know where to go. Luckily, I happened upon the same brown-haired soldier who led me to relative safety. His name is Hadvar.

I am currently writing this entry inside his uncle’s house in Riverwood. Our escape from the town of Helgen was a perilous one that no amount of training with Claudius and his father could have prepared me for. Nevertheless, I am grateful for a new lease on life. For Hadvar’s courage and protection. Should I also be thankful for the dragon?

-M.

#mintre's journal #mintrei's journey #chill play: skyrim ae #bunnhop

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alumort · 3 months

Text

Ao3

Guys i did it, my 100th nejilee fic🥳 enjoy

He was nervous, even though there was no reason to be.

Everything would be alright– it was only a date, and Lee had known his rival for years. They had become closer and closer in the past months, after their first attempt at the Chunin exam, and… at some point, Neji had confessed his love for him between hugs, in his own silent way.

That he hadn’t been pushed away had been a hint of sorts; the brunet didn’t like being touched most of the time, yet he had allowed Lee to fall asleep on his arms without complaint– he had even caressed his hair… the taijutsu master realized they became closer after that small exchange, and his friend began to hug him without being prompted.

And just like that, one day Neji had told him to meet in a tea shop, saying that he felt ready for their first date. Lee was shocked to hear that, but he wasn’t against it; instead, he put on his best clothes and went to the arranged place and time, sitting down on a seat near the entrance for his rival to see him.

To say he was feeling anxious would be an understatement; his heart was beating way too fast inside of his chest, as if it was about to explode– everything would be fine, yet his nerves were acting up.

What if Neji was disappointed in him? Or decided to simply not show up, mocking his heart for a quick laugh? Lee didn’t think anything like that was possible, but his brain was racing against his own will, showing him thousands of possibilities that he knew were far from the truth.

It was hard to stop his overthinking tendencies, though now his mind was easier to ignore with the help of his team.

Before his brain could keep trying to sabotage his heart, he felt a pair of hands covering his eyes without warning, though Lee didn’t need to guess who was behind him– although he acted stern most of the time, Neji loved to play around with him in small ways like these, and his skin tended to be cold most of the time.

“Hello,” his rival mumbled, and the black haired boy covered his hands with his own. “I like your shirt.”

Only then did he uncover his eyes, sitting down in front of him with a soft smile on his face– entwining their fingers in silence, looking at him with pure joy in his gaze. No traces of malice or anything like that, against what Lee’s anxiety had in mind.

Neji liked him, or he wouldn’t have asked him out. It soothed his soul to some extent, more as his companion caressed his palm with his thumb. Trying to comfort him in some way without making comments about his nervousness.

“Ah– I am happy you do, rival! It is nice to see you smile,” he said with a grin, and Neji let out a chuckle in response, still holding his hand.

He was beautiful, and his elegant lavender kimono-shirt was just as stunning as him. Lee felt his cheeks warming up as he observed the other boy better, as Neji softly spoke to him about his latest mission and the birds he had seen in foreign lands. The few times in which his teammate wanted to talk for long, it was usually about his interests, and so Lee didn’t want to interrupt– he looked so excited while explaining every creature that had appeared in his way, even showing him some illustrations he had bought when their order had been served.

They ate but kept talking– about missions, books… life in general. Lee was just happy to spend time with the other boy, who seemed to enjoy his company as well.

Although, they were soon done with their food and paid, leaving the shop afterwards without a real path in mind; his rival shyly offered him a hand, looking at the ground in the meanwhile, and the taijutsu master entwined their fingers once more with a grin on his face.

His nerves had been soothed just like that– Neji's smile had been enough for that, more as he had offered to go on a walk, not wanting to leave his side just yet. Actually enjoying his presence, and not to mock him… his chest felt warm with pure joy.

“What do you want to do now, rival?” Lee asked in a soft voice, chuckling when the brunet just kept walking in silence, playing around with his fingers.

“Anything, if you're with me,” Neji replied after some seconds, lookong around before hugging the other boy without warning. “... I like spending time with you.”

Lee froze in the spot, too shocked to even hug his companion at first– he returned the embrace when he came back to his senses, enjoying the other boy's warmth without saying anything about it.

He knew well Neji wasn't very talkative, and that he hated explaining what was in his heart, so for him to say that his presence was something enjoyable… Lee felt tears threaten to fall from his eyes.

It was the closest thing to an ‘I love you’ that the other boy could say. The same thing he had said when he had asked him out.

His anxiety and nerves were soothed just like that, as they aimlessly walked through the village while holding hands, sitting down at one point just to watch the sunset together in silence. Lee felt more joy than he had ever felt in his whole life, more when Neji left a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He wanted to go on more dates with him, and his friend– boyfriend felt the same. So they arranged for more days where they would see each other and just hang out, not caring about anything else.

#nejilee #leeneji #neji hyuga #rock lee #naruto

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mjolnir-steve · 3 years

Text

Foolish

Frank Adler x fem!Reader

Word count: 5027 (oop)

Warnings: light drinking, very brief mention of suicide, some cursing, smut (18+ ONLY!!!), unprotected sex (m/f) ... Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hi, y’all! Here’s my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817’s Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge!!!! I haven’t written smut in a LONG time, so please be gentle with me LOL. Here’s what I got:

Frank Adler

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

Breeding / mutual pining 🥴

I’d like to dedicate this to @rodrikstark for always sharing the Frank Adler feels and @sparkledfirecracker for bullying me (with love) into finishing this. ❤️

If you like this fic, please comment and reblog!!! I hope you enjoy. :)

Fridays never seemed to come soon enough. You looked forward to the beginning of the weekend as much as the next person, but over the last few months, Friday nights took on new meaning for you. You moved to the trailer park a little less than a year ago, wanting to buy a small place of your own and start making a home for yourself. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t expensive, and it was only a ten-minute drive from your office where you’d just secured a promotion. Roberta, the manager, helped you make it feel like home right away, insisting on going with you to pick out paint samples and providing copies of menus for the best take-out in the area.

Before long, Roberta introduced you to the trailer park’s resident certified genius, Mary Adler. Mary and Roberta spent Saturday mornings with you when you were free, which unfortunately, was pretty much all the time. You played games, sang karaoke, and even let Mary’s one-eyed cat Fred come over. He took a liking to your swinging chair in the living room, and if Mary couldn’t find him at home, odds were he somehow squeezed through your window and ended up in that chair.

Another two months had passed, though, before you met Mary’s uncle and guardian, Frank. You came to learn that Mary stayed with Roberta every Friday night because “Frank needs time to be an adult” and she was not allowed to come back to the house until noon on Saturdays. This information made you feel like Frank must be some kind of sad, perpetual fuckboy. You were right about the sad part, not so much about the latter. One morning while Mary played with your watercolors, Roberta let slip - ironically over a cup of tea - that Frank did have the occasional hookup, but usually, he drank himself sleepy on Friday nights and just needed the time to himself. He worked himself to the bone as a boat mechanic, often late into the night because it was too hot to do some jobs during the day. Frank took Mary in when she was just a baby after his sister, her mother, tragically committed suicide. He spent the majority of his scarce free time with Mary, so when Mary was still a toddler, Roberta offered the Friday night deal. Frank countered that he would do any repairs in the trailer park for free, but she refused to let him do that work without pay, saying he deserved to have a life, too.

She also informed you that Frank was a former philosophy professor, single, and very attractive, especially if you were into the rugged thing. You rolled your eyes with an amused exhale and took another sip of your tea. You’d be lying if you said your interest wasn’t piqued. Mary then shouted over her shoulder, confirming that she’d been listening to your entire conversation, “Frank is great, but he’s a grump. Good luck cracking that egg.” You snorted, nearly spitting out your tea, and she went back to reading your color theory book to Fred.

With that, you heard a sharp rap at the door. You set your tea down on the kitchen table, curious who your visitor might be. You didn’t know anyone else in the trailer park, or in town, really. You opened the door, taking in the sight of possibly - no, definitely - the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You quickly guessed it was Frank, judging by the grease smeared on his quite large hands. His eyes, though tired, had the same bright look as Mary’s, and he had the most perfectly imperfect fluffy hair and overgrown stubble.

“Good morning,” he said with a sweet, closed-mouthed smile. “Is Mary here?”

You had to remind yourself to breathe. Stammering, you opened the door wider, gesturing inside. “Hi, y-yes. She is!” Why am I like this? “She’s just painting with Fred. Please, come in.” You moved aside so he could fit his broad shoulders through the doorframe and then held out your hand. “You must be Frank. I’m Y/N. Mary is just wonderful.” You smiled at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

He took your hand in both of his, gentler than you’d expected. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m Frank. It’s great to meet you, finally.” He smiled wide for the first time and you were certain you’d pass out. Who LOOKS like this? “And thank you, she really is wonderful. I couldn’t do it without Roberta. She’s family.” He smiled and waved at Roberta, who was looking at you over the lip of her mug.

Mary didn’t even bother to turn around and face Frank. “What are you doing here, Frank? It’s only 11. I have a whole ‘nother hour with my friends.” You tried to keep your laugh quiet, covering your mouth with your hand and shaking your head.

“Well, excuse me for thinking you might like to go out on the boat with me this morning. I guess I’ll go by myself.”

Mary jumped up from the floor, scrambling to clean up your paints and books. “Can Y/N and Roberta come?”

Frank crouched down to meet Mary’s eyes. “Of course they can, if they’d like.” He looked back at you over his shoulder, trying to gauge your interest, then turning back to his niece. “But do you remember what I told you?”

You could see that Mary was making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes. “You told me that my adult friends have adult lives that include adult responsibilities, and they might not always be available to spend time with me.”

“And?” he looked at her expectantly.

“And I need to invite them to do things without assuming they will do them.” She couldn’t hold back her eye roll any longer, but she made sure not to let Frank see. “Roberta, Y/N, would you both like to join us on the boat today?”

You were amazed by the exchange taking place in front of you, able to see where some of Mary’s brains and tenacity came from. The conversation between the two flowed so easily, playful yet intelligent. It was clear that Frank treated Mary not as a child, but as a person, and you chided yourself internally for thinking that was kinda hot.

Shaking yourself out of your mildly inappropriate thoughts, you responded. “I’d love to come, Mary.” You smiled at her, bending over to help her pick up the last of the paints from the floor. “Roberta?”

Roberta gave you a look and you just knew she planned this somehow. “I actually do have some of those adult responsibilities to handle today, but thank you for inviting me.” You sent a glare in her direction, quick but no less scathing. “Maybe next time.” She winked at you before washing out her mug and saying her goodbyes.

You spent the whole rest of the day and night with Frank and Mary, doing everything from building sandcastles to cooking dinner together. Mary eventually fell asleep in your lap as you were watching Oliver & Company, Frank’s favorite Disney film that had become Mary’s, too. “An underrated classic,” they told you in unison.

You helped Frank put Mary to bed, a task made easier after such a tiring day. “I guess I should get going.” You stood awkwardly in the small kitchen, unsure of yourself and painfully aware of how close your hand was to Frank’s resting on the counter.

“Yeah, I have a job early in the morning.” He looked down at his shoes, unable to look you in the eye, and you wondered if he hadn’t found your company as enjoyable as you’d found his.

“Listen, I don’t know if you’ve been to Ferg’s? The little bar down the road? I go every Friday night just to relax and have a few beers. Maybe you’d like to come with me next weekend?”

Is he asking me on a date? You could feel your heartbeat racing. The look on your face must not have matched the excitement you felt at the prospect of spending time alone with the dreamy, kind, sarcastic man in front of you.

He felt like an idiot when you hesitated to answer. He clearly read everything wrong. He had to fix this. “It’s a good place to meet people, you know? I know you’re fairly new to the area, so if you’re looking for more local friends, it’s a good place to start.” He winced, hoping you couldn’t sense his embarrassment at thinking that you would want to go on a date with him.

You swallowed, trying not to let your disappointment show outwardly. Of course he’s not interested in me. Stupid. “Oh, yeah! That would be great, Frank. What time?”

Frank let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relieved that you didn’t seem offended by his offer. “How’s 7? I’ll pick you up? We can walk over together.”

And that’s how Fridays came to mean so much to you. Almost every Friday for the last six months, Frank met you at your door and you walked to Ferg’s together. Frank told you it would be a good place to make new friends, but you paid no mind to the other patrons. You only had eyes for each other, yet neither of you could see it, even though Roberta pointed out (repeatedly) that neither of you had taken anyone else home in all that time.

The more time you spent with Frank, the more certain you were that God was real and your life was His favorite trainwreck reality TV series. Even if you could have customized a dream man Build-A-Bear style, Frank still would blow your creation out of the water. He was smart and funny, not to mention an adoring parent to Mary, to whom you grew more attached each day. He was kind and thoughtful, talented and hard-working. Although he was a grouch, as Mary would say, he always was sweet to you. He took a genuine interest in anything you had to say, whether you were venting about work or filling him on the latest episode of whatever show you were binging. He was ridiculously sexy without even trying. All those hours he spent doing manual labor in the sun did wonders for his physique. You’d only seen him completely shirtless on one occasion, and the image of him with sweat dripping down his chest was burned into your memory, fueling your late-night thots and causing you to break out your vibrator on what was now a regular basis.

Six months had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and you’d begun to accept that Frank didn’t want to be anything more than friends with you. You decided tonight was as good a night as any to talk to someone new, to start letting go of your unrequited feelings.

You swapped out your usual jeans for a sundress, t-shirt bra for a push-up, and lip balm for lipstick. Putting your phone and some cash in a wristlet, you considered wearing your new strappy sandals. The walk to Ferg’s was about five minutes each way down a sandy road, though, and memories of the sticky floor inside aided your preferred pair of Converse in their victory for the night.

Just as you finished tying your shoes, you heard a knock at the door. You adjusted your cleavage and fluffed your hair a final time with one last look in the mirror. Here goes.

Frank felt like he had the wind knocked out of him in the best possible way. He suddenly felt entirely underdressed in his aloha shirt, even though it was his go-to for nights out of the house. He’d never seen you dressed so nicely when you weren’t going to work.

You were the kind of beautiful that didn’t require makeup. Your natural hair always framed your face perfectly, even if you didn’t think so. He thought you were adorable when you were concentrating on something, blowing your hair out of your face with a huff. Visions of your soft curves made their way into Frank’s dreams on more than one occasion. He had seen you in your swimsuit several times, sunbathing with Roberta and swimming with Mary at the beach. It wasn’t even all that revealing, but it accentuated your figure in ways that forced Frank into needing a cold shower or two. Above all, though, he admired your heart. You’d allowed Mary into your life without hesitation, spending time with her because you wanted to and allowing her to ask all those questions that Frank just wouldn’t be able to answer. It killed him that you didn’t see him the way he saw you, a perfect partner for him and a worthy maternal figure for Mary.

“Frank? You okay?” Your concerned voice shook him out of his thoughts, prompting him to close his mouth which apparently had opened wide in astonishment when you stood in the doorway.

“Yeah, um... You look…” He looked a little confused, his brow furrowed and lips pursed. “Why are you all dolled up? It’s only Ferg’s.” He wished he could’ve kicked himself in the teeth when your face fell at his question. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit. Let me try that again,” he nearly begged, running up to you to stop you from going back inside. “You look really nice, honey.” He ran his calloused hand up your forearm, but quickly returned it to his side when he realized what he’d done. “Is it a special occasion, though? Should I change?”

You gave him a watery smile, given that you were three seconds from slamming the door in his face and crying. “That’s better. Thank you.” You lightly pushed at his shoulder, trying and failing to ignore the electricity you felt at the contact. “No occasion, though. Just thought maybe it was about time I actually introduced myself to someone new.”

You couldn’t quite read his reaction. Little did you know he was certain he just felt his heart physically crack in his chest. “What do you mean?”

The two of you started walking, the tension between you thickening the very air you breathed. “Well, when you first invited me to Ferg’s, you said maybe I’d get to know some other people in the area, right? But we’re always with each other. I’m sure you’re itching to talk to someone other than me. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Frank abruptly reverted to the quiet, distant state he usually occupied before he met you. He sped up a bit, walking ahead of you and desperately attempting to school his features before you caught up with him.

Frank practically ran to the restroom, not slowing down even to hold the door open for you. You took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders, relaxing before entering the bar. Normally, whoever made it first would order drinks for you both, but Frank made it painfully clear that he had no desire to be in your company tonight. You ordered your usual, an Angry Orchard with a shot of Fireball in a tall glass. The combination tasted like apple cider, but the burn in your throat was caused by liquor rather than heat. It was strong enough to get you buzzed, but not so strong that you’d be stumbling home. You swallowed half the glass in one gulp, wanting to feel the warmth in your veins boosting your confidence as quickly as possible.

“Y/N? How are you?” You turned around, eyes meeting those of Jamie, your coworker. He leaned in for a hug and you accepted somewhat reluctantly, having interacted with him only in passing.

“Hey! I’m all right. What’s up?” You smiled at him, taking another sip of your drink. Jamie was not very subtly staring at your chest. You weren’t crazy about him, but the attention felt nice, so you allowed it.

“Not much. Just happy it’s Friday, ya know?” He looked around for a moment before returning his attention to you. “You’re usually here with that mechanic dude, right?”

You stifled a laugh thinking about how Frank would react if he heard himself referred to as “dude” by this prick. “Yeah, he’s around somewhere. We’re just-“

“-Just friends?” he finished for you with a hopeful look.

You nodded in response, looking him up and down. He was no Frank, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome. It had been so long since you’d even been kissed, and though you hated to admit it, you were touch-starved. One night couldn’t hurt, could it?

Meanwhile, Frank was splashing his face with cool water. He couldn’t believe he’d fucked up so royally. He was sure you didn’t want him how he wanted you, and now he was sure it was too late to tell you how he really felt.

He knew from the moment he saw you that he’d never get you out of his head. Roberta had been talking you up to Frank for weeks, but he wanted no part of it, mumbling something about there being “a reason why no one used matchmakers anymore.” He had no choice but to make your acquaintance when he was looking for Mary, and he’d never been so happy that Roberta could say she told him so.

Later that day at the beach, Mary approached him while you were dozing on a towel in the sand. She sat on his lap and reached for his face, using her pointer fingers to turn the straight line of his mouth up into a smile. “Roberta says you have a ‘charming’ smile, Frank. We think you should use it more.” He chuckled quietly, careful not to disturb you, and pulled Mary in close, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. She grimaced at the feeling, dramatically wiping at her face until he let her go back to reading with Fred.

The sound of the jukebox starting up cut short his reverie. He had to get out there and explain himself. Frank dried his face and hands with a paper towel before smacking his cheeks and stretching his neck back and forth to each shoulder.

Frank exited the restroom only to find some douchebag staring at your ass as you leaned over toward the bar. He saw red when the piece of shit held out his hand behind his back while his friend slipped a twenty-dollar bill into it, seemingly winning some sort of bet.

Jamie didn’t stand a chance when Frank stormed in between the two of you. “That’s IT,” he yelled, so intense he borderline bellowed. He threw whatever cash he had in his pocket on the bar to pay for your drinks before he pulled you outside, almost getting to your door while you fought against his grip. He only stopped when you spun your body around like something out of Dancing with the Stars and jumped in front of him, forcing him to catch you.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, what are y-”

“-What are YOU doing, Frank? What the fuck was that?” You put your feet back down on the ground but remained facing him, arms crossed over your chest.

He groaned in frustration, suddenly realizing he actually had no clue how to respond. “Fuck.”

You looked at him, tapping your foot in anticipation.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” He rubbed at his temples in the way he did when he felt a headache coming on.

“And how was he looking at me, Frank? What does it matter to you?”

“He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and I… FUCK!”

You both turned when your neighbor opened his window. “Can you kids keep it down out here?”

You waved bashfully at the old man. “Sorry, Mr. Parker,” you said in unison.

“Come inside, Frankie.” The nickname that typically made him roll his eyes at you never had sounded sweeter, now that its use confirmed you didn’t hate him for the scene he made. You both toed off your shoes at the door before you made your way into the living room, motioning for him to sit next to you on the couch when he tried to sit in the armchair across the room.

You leaned forward, pinching his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “Now what’s going on in that sun-damaged brain of yours?”

He let out a laugh so soft you almost missed it, but you were glad you didn’t. Sitting back against the arm of the couch, you pulled a pillow into your lap and hugged it, giving Frank your full attention.

Frank cleared his throat, doing his best to accept that it was now or never. “That guy was leering at you, and it pissed me off. You deserve better, Y/N.” He pried your fingers from where they were locked around the pillow to hold your hands in his.

“If you want to meet new people, that’s great. If you don’t want to be with me, that’s a little less great, but I’d understand. He didn’t even pay for your drinks. And I th-”

You covered his mouth with one of your hands, and he knitted his brows in confusion. “You’re making it sound like it’s an option to be with you.” You were in disbelief, side-eyeing him, waiting for Ashton Kutcher to announce that you were, in fact, being Punk’d.

The corners of his mouth lifted into the soft smile he reserved for you. It was the same one he gave you whether you were on a tangent about how “Obsessed” by Mariah Carey is “the single greatest diss track of all time” or you were helping Mary put a harness and leash on Fred “just to see how he’d do” on a walk.

“For a distinguished professor, you’re kind of a dummy, Frank.” You took his face in your hands, thrilled to be feeling his stubble against your palms. Before he could talk back to you, you kissed him, unsure how you denied yourselves such a simple yet extraordinary pleasure for so long. It only took a moment for him to relax into it, his hands removing the pillow between you before finding your waist and pulling you almost into his lap.

You deepened the kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. He pulled away first, pressing his forehead to yours. “Seems like we’re both dummies, huh?”

You were going to ask why pulled away until you looked down to see a considerable tent forming in the front of his jeans. You laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug, one arm wrapped around you while the other hand held your face against his neck.

You kissed the side of his neck softly before leaning back to look at him. “All this time? I thought you didn’t see me this way.” You held his face, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You asked me to go to Ferg’s and then said I could meet other people, so I thought that was it, you know?”

He covered your hands with his and pecked your lips softly. “Honey, I thought it was the other way around. I was trying to ask you out and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.” You giggled, spluttering a bit because tears had started falling at some point. He wiped your tears away before swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down a bit. “We’re fools, aren’t we?”

You nodded slowly and Frank saw something wicked flash in your eyes before you took his thumb in your mouth, sucking lightly. “Jesus, honey.” His length hardened underneath you and you could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your panties, prompting you to grind down into his lap.

You released his thumb from your mouth, pressing your chest into his before kissing him again. “I think we’re only fools if we don’t take advantage of the rest of your adult time.” You removed your dress easily, returning your hands to Frank’s shoulders to push off his shirt.

He surged forward to kiss you again, working magic with his tongue against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he picked you up, walking you into the bedroom. Placing you on the bed carefully, he removed your bra and panties before pulling off his boxers and jeans in one go. You thought you wanted him before, but now that you could see everything he’d been hiding under his baggy clothes, you didn’t see how you could ever let him leave your bedroom.

The next few minutes were spent exploring each other’s mouths while Frank stretched you with his fingers. You didn’t think you’d ever been so wet in your life and thought you might pass out if you didn’t feel him inside you immediately. You gave his cock a few strokes before sliding his head through your folds, coating him in your slick.

“Waitwaitwait, honey. Do you have a condom?”

“You don’t need one if you don’t want one. It’s okay.”

He looked like you just gave him tomorrow’s winning lotto numbers, taking a deep breath to steady himself before he looked at you again. “Oh, God. Are you sure?”

“Mhm. I wanna feel you. Make me yours?”

“Anything you want, honey, but if you change your mind, just tell me, okay?” He lined himself up, seconds shy of entering you for the first time.

“I figured if you were gonna be possessive of me tonight, you might as well take it the whole nine, Frankie.” You laughed as he let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, though, I’m clean, I’m on the pill, and I’ve wanted you for a long time.” You reached up to scratch lightly through his chest hair.

“The only thing I wanna hear right now is you moaning for me.” He drove into you harshly, but waited a moment for you to adjust once he was seated to the hilt. “So damn wet and tight for me, honey. You’re so perfect, so beautiful.” He kissed you again before he began to move, slowly but surely making you lose your mind.

He dipped his head down to take one nipple in his mouth, then the other, effectively shutting you up and emptying all thoughts from your head. He nipped at the swell of your breast, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Fuck, Frank, please!”

“Please what, honey?” He picked up his pace, fucking into you so vigorously you moved up the bed. “Tell me what you need.”

“Make me cum, Frank. Please, baby, I need it. Need you,” you cried, leaning up to bite into his shoulder, stifling your moans.

“I wanna hear you, Y/N. I wanna hear those pretty moans while I’m making this perfect pussy cum for me.” The combination of his filthy words and the sight of him sucking on his own fingers before rubbing at your clit sent you over the edge, making you scream his name over and over again for what felt like forever and not long enough.

You could tell he was close, his hips stuttering and losing their rhythm. He began to pull out, unsure if you were willing to let him finish inside you, but knowing he was too close to wait for an answer.

You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him close, pushing him back into you. “Fill me up, Frank. I wanna feel all of you. Please give it to me,” you whimpered. His release triggered another for you, chanting each other’s names surely loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

He stayed inside you as you both came down from your shared high, gingerly flipping you over so he laid on his back with you on his chest. He kissed the top of your head, fingers fluttering up and down your sides.

“What’s on your mind now, Frankie?” You looked up at him through your lashes, mildly terrified of the answer.

He looked down at you with the most adoration you’d ever seen, lifting your chin so your eyes met his in the moonlight. “That wasn’t too soon, was it? You mean so much to me and to Mary. I don’t wanna mess this up. I don’t ever wanna hurt you. You’re the best thing in my life besides Mary, you know that?”

You kissed his chest before looking back up at him, smiling. “First of all, I would argue that wasn’t soon enough.” He hissed as you clenched around his still softening cock inside you.

“You’re evil.”

Winking at him, you continued tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers. “Second, that all kinda sounds like you might be in love with me, Frank Adler.”

His hands stopped moving for a second before he responded. “Would you run away if I said I am?”

“Well, I wouldn’t run away. This is my house.” You thought your heart might explode in your chest.

“I didn’t even say it, but I take it back,” he huffed, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“What if I told you I felt the same way?”

He grinned, sitting up to kiss you feverishly on your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. You could feel him starting to harden again inside you, leading to round two of… well, you lost count.

You ate breakfast and showered together in time for Frank to return home before Mary did, agreeing to talk more later and to hold out on Roberta for a while.

Frank stood on your doorstep, leaning in to kiss you once more. All of a sudden, you heard a familiar meow and thanked God you were dressed and not in your robe.

“Frank, what are you doing here? I thought I’d come see Y/N since I’m not supposed to come home until noon.”

You bit your tongue to keep from cackling. Frank ran a hand over his face, his blissful bubble burst. He was getting you a hotel room next weekend.

#shamelesshoesforchris2021 #maggie's writing #frank adler #frank adler x fem!reader #frank adler fluff #frank adler smut

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ms-starflower · 3 years

Text

Young Survivors — Maribat

It’s almost four am here, I just finished writing this and am just tired enough to actually go through and post it. And this title is the only thing my tired brain could come up with. Anyway. I haven't posted something I wrote in years, but all the Maribat I’ve read recently made me want to write something for it.

I don’t know if I’m ever going to write a 2 part, but if I do it’s definitely going to be Timari and contain a couple of typical Maribat tropes. And a pinch of salt.

Also, disclaimer: I haven't watched Miraculous in years and most of my DC knowlege come from fanfic or tumblr so... sorry not sorry.

Now with a part 2!

Next >

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

Mei Leyton’s oldest memories were of her mother, dolled up in pretty dresses and elegant makeup. In her daughter‘s eyes, Margaret Leyton was the most beautiful woman on earth.

For as long as she could remember, Mei would sit on the bed and watch as her mom would get ready to head to work. She had always loved those moments with her mom.

(How do I look, my little flower,” she said, twirling around Mei with a grin, making her laugh. It was Margaret’s favorite dress, a vintage halter blue dress with white accents and a white bow around the waist.

“Like a princess, mommy! The prettiest princess ever!”

“Oh no, no no no. You are the prettiest princess ever, my little flower.”)

She was four when her mother let her help for the first time, letting her pass along brushes and products. It’s then that she understood what were the purple marks on her mother that she covered with her makeup.

(“Life is not fair to us, my little flower,” she had said when Mei asked about it for the first time. “Being an orphan and pretty little girl in Gotham isn’t safe, and it doesn’t give much choice when it comes to survival.”

Mei didn’t understand then, but it didn’t matter anyway, life would make her understand soon enough.)

When Mei was seven, the GCPD found her mother’s body.

When she didn’t see her that morning, Mei hadn’t been worried; it wasn’t the first time. Mom would be home by noon, she always was. Until that day.

(The investigation wouldn’t get very far, it was just another prostitute of Camellia street, nobody cared about them. They were just there until they weren’t anymore.

Another girl would take her place in a couple of days. It was how those kinds of things worked in Gotham.)

That day was kind of blurry in her memory. She remembers being pulled out of class in the morning, and that the cop that told her about her mother’s death was very rude.

(“Your mom is dead, kid. A lad found her body in a dumpster this morning,” the guy had said as soon as she had sat down in the headmistress’ office. “Do you know who she worked for? Or on what side of the Camellia she stayed?” He had asked, halfheartedly.

Mei had shaken her head, even though she did; you don’t talk to cops in Gotham, mom always says said that it was the easiest way to get yourself killed, for people like them.

“Alright,” he had said, not surprised. “A social worker is going to pick you up in a bit to take you to your new home, kid.”

With that he had walked out of the office, not looking back. As if where she would end up was going to be home.)

She remembers that the social worker from CPS was a brunette with tan skin, and looked really overworked, but had a kind smile.

By the end of the day, she was taken to Elliot's Hall for Children, an overcrowded, understaffed orphanage with more kids than they could realistically care for.

(They don’t care for the children, they just put them there for a while and act as they do. Most children leave after a couple of days, and if they don’t, they get taken anyway.

Some come back with a police escort, some manage to survive in the streets, and nobody talks about the ones that are never seen again.

You don’t work there because you love children, and if you do, you don’t last for very long.)

Mei wasn’t stupid, her mother told her stories about those kinds of places. She came from those kinds of places, and Mei saw how the man in charge here had looked at her when the social worker dropped her off.

She wasn’t going to just stand here and wait for him to sell her back in Camellia street. Or worse, to the Candy Dealers.

Taking with her what she absolutely couldn’t leave behind, Mei made a choice her mother hadn’t been able to and took her chance with the streets.

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

Mei was a Camellia kid and, as such, took to the streets easier than most newcomers. She had picked up a few tricks from her aunties and her mom, and it helped her to survive out here.

The only (glaring) differences were the absence of her mother, the lack of a permanent roof above her head, and the fact that she had to provide food and money herself now.

(One of her favorite places to pick up wallets was Gotham Academy, where Gotham’s rich send their children. The kids always had money on them, and it’s not like they would miss it.

Though she couldn’t go too many times in a row, not without risking being spotted and remembered.)

She had been on the streets for two months when she met Jason Todd; the boy who would become her family.

She heard him before she saw him, to be honest. It was an awful crashing noise coming from around the corner, and it made her look.

He was running like the devil was after him, and judging by how the cops running behind him were clutching their batons, she wasn’t that far from the truth.

The noises were because of a couple of trash cans the boy had spilled in their way to slow them down.

And he was coming her way.

Against her better judgment, she grabbed his arm when he passed in front of her, and pulled him behind her into her hideout. Quickly getting the plank of wood back in place, she put her hand on his mouth before he could say anything. With the dumpster in the alley, the entry was almost invisible from outside.

They stayed there as they heard the men pass in front of their hiding place, listening as they argued about where the boy could have disappeared before their voices faded completely.

They waited another couple of minutes before he removed the hand she still had on his mouth and crawled out of there.

“Thanks,” he muttered with a scowl. “I woulda’ve been just fine without help but… yeah, anyway.” Then he had started to walk in the direction he came from.

“Hey! Wait!” She said before she could think about it. “Are ya just gonna, like, go? Just like that?”

“Huh, yeah? What do ya want me to do?” He asked, looking back at her from above his shoulder without stopping his walk. “Stay to drink a cup of tea and talk about the weather?”

“Well.. no. But I just… I just wanna talk a bit, ya know?” She couldn’t really explain why she didn’t want him to leave yet, it’s not like he was the first street kid she had helped out. He just felt different, and somehow she knew he could become important to her.

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed before turning his head back to look forward. “The streets are not some daycare for princesses who want to make friends, kid.”

“Kid— hey, dumbass, you’re, like, ten years old! You’re a kid too! And I’m not a princess, I can survive alone just fine!” Before she knew it, she was walking behind him, the weird feeling forgotten for the offence his comment created. He looked back at her with a frown, before choosing to ignore her. Not letting that deter her, she rambled at him about all the ways why she wasn’t a kid any more than him.

“I thought you could survive alone?” He said, talking over her, when he realized that she wasn’t going to let him be.

“I can.”

“So why are ya following me? Tryin’ to drive me crazy?”

“Well, no. It’s just... that I can do it doesn't mean I want to.”

“Look, kid,” he said, ignoring her protest and talking over her, again. “You should just go back to whatever orphanage you came from, there is probably some nice little family who's gonna pick you up. Then you could make all the friends you want.”

“Like people actually adopt kids in this city. This is Gotham, you dummy, not ‘Annie’. Some rich white guy isn’t going to come and pick up children from the streets to make them live the Grand life.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” he growled out without pausing in his steps. “Still, you’re pretty enough, I’m sure some nice people would adopt you in a second if you let them.”

“Yeah, sure. Mom thought the same when she was a kid, and guess what? She started working on Camellia street when she was fourteen, but nobody asked her if she wanted to. Because she was pretty enough,” the little seven years old spat with venom, her eyes narrowed. The boy stopped walking, turning toward her with eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights. “Her best friend wasn’t, but mom said that she had the prettiest green eyes ever. When they found her body, she didn’t have eyes anymore, because some rich person paid to have pretty green eyes.”

“I— I didn’t—” he stuttered, eyes wide. With his scowl gone he looked so much younger, and Mei’s anger subdued. He wasn’t that much older than her, just a couple of years, maybe three or four, after all.

“It’s… okay, I guess. It’s Gotham. I just thought we both would have more chances to survive if we helped each other out. And, ya know, the company wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, but when they resumed walking he slowed down enough to let her walk beside him without almost-running.

“Great! So, Annie, where are we going now?” She said with a beaming smile, bursting into laughter at his indignation and protest against the nickname.

(“Can’t you stop calling me Annie already?! I told you my name’s Jason!”

“Nope, Annie.”

“Well, then, that makes you Sandy, doesn't it? Ya do follow me around like a stray puppy.”

“I’m not a dog— wait, hold on a minute! I knew you saw the movie! You liar!”)

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

She was ten when her life was put upside down once again, in the worst of ways.

It took practically no time before Jason “Annie” Todd became her brother in all but blood, it took longer for Jason to admit it, and they spend almost three years surviving together, barring the occasional trip back to the Children's Houses.

Though, they always found each other a couple of days after they escaped from those places.

Sometimes, Jason would plan something that he needed to do alone. Because of course, he did.

(“It’s the best job, my plan is perfect. Don’t worry, it’s gonna be great Sandy!”

“Yeah, and why can’t I come?”

“It’s too dangerous! Plus, you need to stay here and keep our things safe!”

“Yeah, if you say so, Annie.”)

That day was one of those days.

He was gone for less than an hour when they found her.

The Candy Dealers.

Mei paled when she saw them, wearing their nice suits and overly sweet smile. They told her they were social workers, specializing in homeless children, and offered her a lollipop. Social workers in Gotham don’t give candy to the kids, even the nice ones, and she knew from her time in Camellia street that the lollipop was drugged.

(“Never, ever, take candy from a Candy Dealer, Mei. Do you understand me? Never,” her mother told her gravely. “They put bad stuff in them, and if you put it in your mouth, they will take you away from me. I couldn’t live without you in my life, my little flower.”)

She tried to run, even before the first one got his hand totally outstretched toward her. But her panic made her stumble, and she was no match for them.

She tried to kick, and scream, and bite, but soon she felt a pinch in her neck, and everything was black.

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

The next period of her life was one she tried very hard to forget. For months she was moved, her and dozens of other people, from containers to containers, warehouse to warehouse. Twice they were put in a boat, the containers staying closed for so long, the next time she saw the moonlight, it burned her eyes.

She quickly learned that it was pointless to try to escape (and that Jason wouldn’t come and save her).

Then, one night, the place they were at was illuminated with blue and red lights and the police sirens were so loud, they drowned everything else.

She didn’t let herself hope, though. (She did, she hoped so hard her chest hurt.)

They (probably) weren’t in Gotham anymore, but her childhood didn’t instill her much trust in the police.

They did get them out. And she learned that they were in Paris now. In France. (That was a long way from Gotham.)

There were twenty-seven other people with her in the container. Four of which were kids, and only one other was also an orphan. They weren’t placed together, though. Because the kid had family back where he came from. Unlike her. (She had Jason. He was her family, but they didn’t listen.)

The French social workers took a while to know what to do with her exactly, but they didn’t want to send her back to Gotham (why not? She wanted to go back and find Jason!). So, in the meantime, they placed her in a foster family—one without any other kid, as per her therapist's advice. (The therapist didn’t know anything. She said Gotham wasn’t good for her, but Jason was in Gotham.)

Funnily enough, it ended up being a more permanent solution than previously considered, because the foster parents, Tom and Sabine, quickly fell in love with the little girl.

Not before long, Mei Leyton became Marinette Dupain-Cheng. (They changed her name to give her a ‘new beginning’ because her therapist thought it would be good for her. She didn’t want to have a ‘new beginning', she wanted to go back, to find Jason, to be the Sandy to his Annie. She was Mei, the Camellia’s kid, Sandy, the street’s kid and it was enough for her. She didn’t want to be Marinette, the bakers’ kid.)

So, when Mei was first put into the care of the Dupain-Cheng household, she regularly tried to run away. It was unsurprisingly harder than in Gotham, though. Tom and Sabine were way more attentive than Elliot Hall’s staff ever was, and more than a third of her tentatives were folded even before she was past the front door.

It took her three months (and forty-three unsuccessful tentatives) before she finally accepted that there would be no way for her to go back to Gotham. (Not that she had known how she would manage to do that before, her plan never got that far.) It took another six months before Tom and Sabine trusted her enough to let her wander the neighborhood alone.

The first thing she did the day her ‘new parents’ let her go to the library alone was to get to a public computer, and look Jason up. She didn’t really think she would find anything when she typed Jason Todd and Gotham in Google that day (maybe an obituary). She definitely didn't think she would find her best friend (brother) on the covers of so many tabloids declaring that he was Bruce Wayne’s ward.

She didn’t know how she should feel about the fact that he proved her wrong and became some real-life Annie. She wanted to feel angry, or hurt. Even more so when she realised that Wayne adopted him not even a full week after her (kidnapping) departure from Gotham, but…

But seeing Jason in the pictures… He looked so angry. Angrier than she ever saw him. And hurt. There was hurt hidden in his expression. It was well hidden but she could see it. (She did that, she was the one that hurted him. He probably thought she left him. That she wasn’t any better than his deadbeat of a father and abandoned him. What if he hates her now, because she was gone for so long?)

She needed to go back to Gotham, find him, and explain everything. She needed to tell him she didn’t want to leave him behind, that he was her family, and that it would never change. But Tom and Sabine didn’t want to take her back there, not before she was older, because she wasn’t ready yet, they said.

She didn’t care, though. No matter how long it would take her, she was going to go back. So, she slowly started to act like the perfect little girl. She didn’t really change, she just stopped bringing up Gotham so much, started to help more often in the house and at the bakery, and started to call Tom and Sabine Papa and Maman. (It wasn’t real, at first. But then, they just crawled into her heart against her will and became family. They didn’t replace her Mom or Jason, though. Nobody ever will.)

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

She started to heal. Slowly, without even realising. She opened up to a couple of children at her school, made friends with Nino, and sort of Frenemies (more enemy than friend, though) with Chloé Bourgeois. She picked up hobbies like sewing and designing, baking with Tom, or learning various martial arts with Sabine.

But she didn’t forget, going back to Gotham was still her ultimate goal. Until the news reached her, when she was twelve.

Jason Todd was dead.

Her best friend, her brother in everything but blood, her Annie. Dead. Jason was dead.

She felt like a part of her died with him, reading the words but not really processing. She let herself drown in her grief, closing up to everyone around her. Surprisingly, Chloé was the one that made her react. Literally slapping her to make her come back from the dead. (Not entirely, though. Mei, the Gothamite part of her, stayed dead with Jason. Only Marinette, the nice little parisian, came back.)

“I don’t really know what’s up with you, Dupain-Cheng,” she had said while Marinette cradled her sore cheek, her faux-contempt badly hiding her worry. “But you need to put yourself together. Tormenting you is no fun if you don’t react to it, and people are too worried for you to be afraid of me. Don’t make me call daddy on you.”

“I…” She had started, only to stop herself. She had looked back at Nino and Kim, both of whom were looking at her with poorly concealed worry. “Yeah, sorry Chloé.”

She pulled herself out of the worst of it after that, at the obvious relief of the people around her. None of which even knew why she was in this state. She still cried herself to sleep most nights, and sometimes felt like someone gouged out her heart with their bare hands, but she also started to let herself think of the good times. Started to let herself feel the good things happening around her, in the present.

Then, she saved the life of an old man, found magic earrings and a bug-mouse-kwami in her room that told her that she needed to become a hero and save Paris.

She thought of her big brother, of how he would always protect her when someone tried to rob them. Hide her, before even thinking of himself, when the cops would chase them down, trying to bring them back to Elliot's Hall. Give her all the food when they couldn’t get enough for the both of them. How he was a hero. Her Hero. And, really, there was only one thing she could say to that.

“Tikki, spots on!”

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

So. That's it. That was fun. I'm going to sleep now, goodnight.

Btw, Jason's super plan that day was totaly to steal the Batmobile's tires.

#maribat #mlb x dc #gothamite marinette #street kid marinette #platonic jasonette #probably a timari btw #timinette if that's how you call it #4am me decided to post it #2pm me could decide to delete it tho

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youryanderedaddy · 3 years

Text

Best Friends Forever

Summary: Your best friend finally has you back after all these years, tied up on his bed and ready to learn your lesson.

Tw: nsfw, non-con, slight mention of blood, threats, choking, slight degradation, dirty talk, cursing, infantilization, possessive behavior, patronizing behavior, overuse of petnames, slight dom vibezz

You knew your boyfriend was a lost cause, an addict so gone he would have done anything for a fix, but you never expected him to stoop so fucking low.

You had woken up in a suspiciously familiar place, laying on sheets oh so soft, puffy and white you simply couldn’t mistake the bed you were on. The walls were painted in black and blue, a combination so deeply engraved in your mind you couldn’t shake off the feeling you weren’t trully conscious, but dreaming of a happy yet distant memory of the past. It took you less than a second to realize you were in his room - the one where you had spent so many joyfull sleepless nights back in your youth. The relief was short - lived, though, because the moment you tried to move around, you became aware of the tight rope keeping your sore limbs tied to the wooden bed frame. After a while of twisting and thrashing around while screaming at the top of your lungs for help you finally heard the door open. You hoped you would at last be able to go home now, still desperate to believe this was merely a prank, a way for your junkie of a boyfriend to scare you into giving him money.

“There is no use trying to escape the bonds, my little love.” His voice emited through the small room, low, smooth as butter and softer than ever. You tried to lift your head and catch a glipse of the person talking, just to make sure you weren’t imagining things or going insane. And there he was in all his glory, the boy, no, the man you knew well looking so different from how you remembered him, but still it felt impossible not to see the many similarities - from the unruly dark curls to the warm gray eyes that used to be your only guide during times of misery and pain. This was none other than your childhood best friend and you had absolutely no idea why you were tied to his bed. “Oliver, why on earth am I here?” You asked as soon as the initial shock had worn off, completely forgetting to address the weird petname the student had called you.

He smirked slightly before crossing the distance keeping him away from you, and carefully sat down by your left side. He reached out to stroke your cheek in an affectionate way, his fingers lingering for a moment too long for it to be considered a mere platonic gesture. You tried to turn your head away from the warm touch since it made you feel uncomfortable and left you with so many new questions. “I missed you so much, precious.” Oliver took a deep breath and smiled at you, gently moving your jawline so you had no choice but to face him once again. “I was so happy when that disgusting piece of shit you call a boyfriend offered you to me.” The man bent to your shoulder-level and whispered in your ear, his tone so full of sick satisfaction you could swear there was honey dripping from his mouth. “I paid a lot of money to have you back, sweetheart.” He licked his lips in an obscene, suggestive way and you had to supress the sudden urge to vomit as you finally remembered exaclty why you had stopped contacting your best friend once you had started college. The boy used to be clingy, obsessive even, but you could have never guessed it was that bad.

“Oliver, please untie me, you are scaring me.” You pleaded in a tiny voice, hoping to summon what was left of the goodness he had tucked away deep in his heart. In response the male only chuckled and shook his head as he placed a small kiss against your neck, causing you to shiver in discomfort and disgust while you were mentally debating whether you wanted to kill him or your ex boyfriend first. Soon your spiteful thoughts were replaced by panic when your captor brought his hand to your t-shirt and started unclasping the small buttons one by one. You couldn’t help but turn red from embarassment the moment you felt your nipples harden under his palm and you became painfully aware you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. Your former friend had your tender breasts exposed to the cold air in a matter of seconds, his terrible fingers already pinching and pulling at the erect tips. “You have such pretty tits, darling.” He said huskily while squeezing your boobs, licking and biting the stretched skin. You hissed in pain and squirmed in a desperate attempt to move away but the rope was holding you in place, tightening around your sore injured wrists even more.

“I have wanted you for so long, angel.” The student admitted quietly, his stormy eyes fixed on yours, his stare so intense it could burn a hole through you. “Tonight I will make you mine.” Oliver declared with a clear sense of confidence and claimed your lips in a quick rough manner, muffling your pitiful whimpers like a man starved and hungry for flesh. The forced kiss and his deranged words made your stomach turn but something in his longing gaze told you there was a lot more in store. The guess, much to your horror, was soon confirmed when the dark - haired male reached down between your parted legs and easily slipped your panties down to your ankles. With your last bit of protection gone you felt awfully vulnerable, literally naked in front of the beast too keen on the past to see how much he was hurting you right now, in the present. You wanted to scream the second his fat grabby fingers pried your folds open, but choking on your desperate sobs proved easier at that moment.

“Aww, don’t cry, angel.” Oliver growled playfully and slid his index into your tight entrance, quickly adding a second one before you had the time to adjust properly. “I have to prepare you, baby, otherwise my cock may just tear you apart.” He remarked in low sickening voice, the excuse too crude and vulgar to be an act of caring. You whined as your walls clenched down tight now that there were three fingers stretching your hole, and you berely managed to utter “too full” before your friend pulled you for a deep kiss again, his tongue devouring your mouth, leaving you breathless and queit while sucking in the sweet pained moans. “You can take it, babygirl.” The man groaned against your swollen red lips and grabbed your hips in a strong hold - you were sure there would be purple bruises there tomorrow.

Eventually, after half an hour of pushing his fingers in and out of your channel, lapping at your neck and leaving wet love marks all over your collarbone, the student was satisfied with his work. He had turned you into a whimpering mess and was ready to thoroughly enjoy the fruits of his labor, whether you liked it or not. “I am going to put it in now, precious.” Oliver pecked you on the cheek just to lick the salty trace of tears off your puffy skin. “I will force my whole length in your perfect little pussy.” Your captor bit your sensitive earlobe and you broke down in tears like a kid, the threat ringing in your ears like the gospel. “This might hurt a bit so I advise you to stay still and relax, baby.” The way the man continued casually, almost cheerfully, as if he wasn’t about to brutally rape you, made your skin crawl, but there was nothing you could do. You were all tied up, powerless to stop him. Suddenly, without any warning, his hard thick member entered you, piercing pain spreading through your whole body. The student panted in pleasure as soon as he thrust his manhood into your heat, the way it sucked him in leaving him high and blissful. You let a few miserable whimpers, the ache too much to bear, his moves too harsh, sudden and deep.

“Don’t give me such a-agh tormented expression, my love.” Oliver quickly shushed you by putting his hand over your mouth and pressing down to prevent any noise that might have escaped. His gaze was lustful, insane, but also loving in a twisted, perverse way. “Fuck, I love you so much.” He muttered, his voice gentle for a split second before going back to being taunting and mocking. “I used to be so angry each and every time you dated another guy, another asshole who was only after your body.” The man was rambling now, his face turning red at his own vicious thoughts, his growing anger reflecting in his cloudy pupils and his painful thrusts. “You always chose them over me like a stupid little bitch ...” He whispered dangerously and lifted your body towards his own so you could take his hits even deeper, so deep that you could feel the tip of his member kissing your cervix. “Well, now you don’t have a choice, angel. I have claimed you and I will keep you here forever.” You were crying out in agony, your pussy clamping down around the enormous length slapping again and again against your core. It burned so bad you wished you could dissapear somewhere far away just so you could have a moment of relief. “Oh, sweetheart, I know it hurts, but it’s almost over, you can take it for me, right?” The male cooed at you, switching back to that disgusting, infantilizing baby voice you had already grown to despise. When you failed to respond he gripped your throat, squeezing so tightly blood rushed to your cheeks and you inhaled sharply though your mouth only to feel the suffocation cut your breath short. “Answer me.” He barked through gritted teeth and you nodded frantically, desperate to gasp for air and cling onto dear life.

“Good girl.” Your former friend purred, pleased with your obedience, and let go of your neck, grabbing your hips instead. You coughed and drooled pathetically until you managed to resume your breathing, but the man, still buried deep inside you, seemed too caught up in chasing his own pleasure to notice how badly he had hurt you. Fortunately for you Oliver was really close, that much was obvious by his furious shoves at your abused cervix and his low growls each time he lowered his head to kiss you. Soon he came with a loud moan, painting your walls white, your ruined hole dripping with his seed and your blood.

Your captor seemed satisfied afterwards, peaceful in a way - there was a small smile adorining his cold lips as he wiped the tears off your face and squished your bruised body against his strong frame in a tight hug. You bit your tongue to stop the tears from overflowing once again, but to no avail. He let you sob in his arms until there wasn’t liquid left in your red, puffy eyes.

“You did very well, my love. I am really proud of you.” Oliver kissed your temple gently, resisting the temptation to graze you all over again with his lips, tongue and fingers. “I will help you clean up, then I will fix you some nice dinner.” He murmured in your ear, tickling the heirs on the back of your neck with his warm breath. “Doesn’t this sound good, baby?”

You closed your eyes and nodded slowly.

#yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere smut #male yandere #yandere oneshot #yandere oc #yandere male x reader #yandere oc x reader #yancore #male yandere x you

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