#but i love gem i wanna write more of her

[slashmagpie]

Gem’s pretty sure Tango’s dungeon hates her.

The other hermits? They get nice, easy artefacts. Lots of embers. They get keys. Gem? Gem gets nothing. Gem gets max clank looking for a key and then pulls out a stinking Pearl of Cleansing, which, she loves Pearl, she does, but she gets more than enough of her neighbour at home, and also she thinks she deserves more than fourteen embers for the pain that she has to go through. 

She’s told Tango, of course, told him to fix his game, but he just laughs and tells her it’s bad RNG. That’s the logical, reasonable explanation, and it makes sense, except it doesn’t. Gem’s seen other hermits get keys just fine. It just hates her, for some reason she can’t fathom.

…Oh, yeah, and there’s the whole… watching other hermits get keys thing.

It’s not—she’s not cheating. Tango had banned exploring the dungeon when not playing the game, through any means: astral projection and dream walking and drones and hidden cameras alike, all of them are illegal and will be met with swift punishment. Gem hasn’t been doing that. She wouldn’t break the rules! But—well, it’s hard to explain. Sometimes she blinks and she isn’t looking through her own eyes anymore. Sometimes she blinks, and she’s much, much larger than her body, and she’s somewhere deep within the dungeon, watching someone else run.

She’s surprised Tango hasn’t caught her yet. She knows he’s there somewhere too, in the dungeon, watching with eyes that aren’t his own. She doesn’t know how she knows that, exactly, but—she knows. It’s like…

Gem can’t sleep much anymore, is the thing. At least not in her own bed. Every time she tries to go home, go back to her base and get some progress done, she finds herself restless and itching to return to the Frozen Citadel. It doesn’t matter that she’s out of shards for the week, or that the queue’s ten people long, or even that there’s no one there—Gem needs to be there. She spends a lot of time in the hallway outside of the entrance, perching in divots in the walls. Sometimes she feels frozen, like her skin’s made of stone, like she’s part of the build itself, and that’s when she blinks, and then she’s somewhere deep, deep down in the belly of the dungeon.

Gem’s not the only one hooked on the game, she knows. She’s not the only one hopelessly addicted. It’s become a bit of a joke now, how Tango is their dealer, allowing them one more hit with every new shard. She’s not the only one who camps out in Decked Out’s halls, just hanging out, watching people play and living vicariously through their enjoyment of the game she won’t get to experience again until next week. But it’s not—it’s different—the other hermits get keys, is the thing. The other hermits… 

The thing is, Gem’s noticed frost creeping up her fingers, frost that doesn’t melt when she breathes on it, frost that doesn’t rinse away when she dunks them in water. She’s noticed—something. Under her skin. Writhing and craving and only briefly satisfied when someone fails to survive the dungeon. She’s noticed the hatred. She can feel it deep in her bones whenever she’s within the dungeon’s walls.

So—Gem knows that the dungeon hates her. She knows. And she knows because she can feel it, because she’s…

Well. She doesn’t know. She’s something. She’s…

She should talk to Tango. If anyone would know, it would be Tango, with his permanently frost-covered skin, and strange absent episodes, and his near-perfect knowledge of the dungeon. If anyone would know what’s happening to her, it would be…

Gem should go and ask him. She really, really should. Before whatever this is gets any worse.

She tucks herself into her corner, the divot where the wall bends in, and waits, a statue in the hall. Through eyes that aren’t her own, she watches, and quietly seethes as Cub acquires a key.

[kellystar321]

.

[joelsdagger]

all the things i would do

read on ao3 | resources on how to help Palestine here <3

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: porn no plot. joel finds an article of clothing of yours and there’s nothing holding him back once he gets his hands on them. 

rating: explicit, 18+ MDNI 

content warnings: [Post Outbreak], established relationship, implied age gap (25+ years), joel is canon age, slightly domestic joel (blink and it’s gone), joel has a panty kink, panty sniffing, masturbation (m), soft dom!joel, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, pet names (use of baby, sweet baby, sweetheart, love), smidgen of fluff (these two are so in love it’s sickening), an inkling of a size kink (but in my head joel’s at least 6’5, he’s a BIG big man in my brain), joel’s filthy mouth, praise kink, hint of sub!joel, nipple play, one use of the word ‘Daddy’ (moots don’t look at me I couldn’t help it), slight tummy kink/tummy worship, cum eating.  No use of Y/N. No physical descriptions of reader other than having hair long enough that it’s past her shoulders. 

word count: 3.1k

A/N: so, a few things before we get started. i’m new to writing fics and this is my first time publicly putting out a fic that wasn’t just for shits and giggles for my friends and i and i’m so fucking nervous like the amount of times i’ve panicked over this is a little embarrassing to admit but we ball. that being said, i love and welcome constructive criticism as long as you’re nice about it. there was an alternative version of this, it’s more like a deviation (literally sitting in my drafts as we speak) but reader is more involved in the situation, if y’all still wanna read that, just let me know and i’ll work on getting it out for you guys. finally, shout out to @skrunkly-scrimblo for encouraging me to actually write this all those months ago and for all your brilliant ideas and encouragement and practically holding my hand through it since day one, @aurasjournal for being such a gem and helping me with the cover for this fic and hyping me up, and thank you to @papurgaatika and @nevergoingbacknowshine for being so kind and encouraging and listening to my 3am rants when i was anxious. another big thank you to kat, aura, and naya for beta reading and helping me during the editing process. all four of you have been absolute sweethearts despite me being a pussy about posting this. okay i’m done rambling, enjoy some of the filth that constantly plagues my brain <3 

Joel’s eyes blink open slowly, the sun peeks into the bedroom through the curtains across the room. For a moment he searches for you beside him, but remembers you’ve already left for the day out on patrol duty. Joel harrumphs, still bothered over letting you and Ellie bully him out of his patrol duties. “You’ve been hurting yourself too much baby,” You had told him a few weeks ago over breakfast. “Yeah, you’re an old man now. You fall over one more time and you’re done.” Ellie snickers from her seat in the kitchen. Joel just rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to the dishes, but you had caught the small grin on his face when he turned his head back to the sink. Against the two of you, Joel never stood a chance.

Joel drags himself out of bed towards his dresser to grab a new set of clothes. He throws on a blue shirt that fits a little snug on his well built form, the thin material stretches over his broad shoulders, across his strong back, and pulls taut over his biceps and he grunts as he pulls a pair of dark wash jeans over his strong, thick thighs, securing them in place with a distressed leather belt that he’s had for years. Once he’s dressed, he takes in the mess in the room. He notices both of your clothes from the night before are still scattered around the room.  He bends down to pick them up, he grunts as his knees pop when he stands back up. He starts gathering them up to toss them into the hamper already overflowing with clothes. The last article of clothing out of place is yours. Your black lace panties on the armchair in the corner. He grabs them and his eyes widen when he feels it, the center still wet from him making you come earlier. His cock instantly hardened in his jeans.  

Joel turns on his heel and in just a few long strides he’s in your shared bathroom. He deliberately avoids the mirror, knowing that if he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror he’ll disgust himself even more. Briskly, he sets the laundry hamper on the tile near the bathtub. Joel brings the thin black lace up to his face, closes his eyes and he sniffs them, breathing you in completely. He groans at the scent of you. His cock painfully hard now. He knows he shouldn't but he can't help it. He’s addicted to you and he knows he can’t wait til you get home. He knows he can’t wait to have his way with you, dig into you any way that you will let him. So, without another second of hesitation, Joel unbuckles his belt, a clink from the metal hitting the edge of the counter, unzips his jeans and takes his thick, heavy cock out, and then brings your soaked panties to his angry, leaking tip. His precum meets the wetness of your panties and he hisses at the feeling. With the wetness of the gusset of your panties acting as a lubricant, Joel begins to slowly stroke himself, wanting to take his time, savoring every feeling, relishing in it. Joel soon becomes too desperate for release, he quickly loses control, his hips moving faster to fuck his hand, his hand tightening around his cock, the grip almost painful now. His eyes are screwed shut, as he throws his head back, the night before instantly replaying in his head.

He had just gotten out of the shower to find you sprawled out on your stomach on your side of the bed, ankles crossed in the air. He rakes his eyes over your form until his eyes land on your ass. You were wearing the panties he was currently fucking his hand with. You didn’t notice him stepping out of the bathroom, too busy looking at the photo album you had just put together. It’s relatively new, most of the pages empty, yet you were looking at the photos you had taken earlier that week at the Tipsy Bison. The one that had your attention was a photo of you and Joel that Ellie had taken. Neither of you looked at the camera, the photo had captured you mid-laugh, head tilting back, eyes shut, it was a full belly laugh at something Joel had said. Joel’s arm was around your shoulder tucking you into his side, smiling down at you, a rare type of smile, one reserved only for you. 

Leaning on the entryway, his arms crossed over his broad, tanned chest, he smiles at the view. You’re in nothing but your panties in his bed, in his home. His feet move without thinking, walking over to you. He brushes your hair over your shoulder, tracing his fingers over your soft supple skin down your back and over the lace of your panties, and lightly pinches your ass. “So pretty sweet baby,” he says shyly, almost like he’s speaking to himself. You turn your head to look up at him, smiling. Wordlessly, he took the photo album from your hands, placing it on your nightstand. He gets in the bed, carefully sitting on his knees while attempting to avoid loosening the off-white towel around his waist. You roll onto your back to face him, his silver curls still damp from the shower as water still drips onto his strong shoulders. He combs his hair back after a shower and the ends tend to curl up around his ears. It’s been months since you last cut his hair but you like his hair longer, you had whispered to him in the darkness of your bedroom, your naked, sweaty limbs tangled up together between his sheets. From that night on he hasn’t asked you to cut it for him. He likes it because you like it. 

While you’re busy ogling him, Joel’s hands immediately reach to trace the floral lace pattern before toying with the little satin black bow at the center front. His rough, calloused hands slide up your bare thighs, wrapping his large hands around your thighs and he pries open your legs, his hazel eyes locked in on your center like a bullseye and you notice the cocky smirk he’s got plastered on his face, pleased with himself that he’s already got you wet for him. 

He brings two thick fingers to slide over your covered cunt. He feels the wetness on the material and he pulls back to look up at you and finds your attention on his fingers. “What a mess you made, pretty girl,” he murmurs. You’re watching the movement of his fingers, entranced by his fingers teasing your pussy as he glides them up and down your slit. He clicks his tongue at you, “so wet for me huh baby? Always so wet for me. So perfect,” he smirks to himself as he gently pulls your panties to the side, revealing your aching, needy cunt. He lowers his head placing gentle kisses on the soft skin of your inner thigh, his lips tracing and peppering your skin all the way towards your center, his mouth hovering over the place you need him most and you shiver beneath him. 

“Joel,” you whisper, he chuckles seeing you all worked up for him. “Baby please,” you whimper. 

“What is it baby?” he tuts, “use your words, sweet girl,” he tilts his head slightly with a smug grin on his face. His fingers move up and down your folds. 

“N-need them inside me, p-please,” you whimper as you claw at his forearms, clutching them for stability. 

“Alright baby, lemme taste her first,” He lays flat on his stomach, moves his arms under your legs, and hoists them up over his broad shoulders. He lowers his mouth onto your cunt and the tip of his tongue licks through your folds. He hums at the sweet taste of you on his tongue. He flattens his tongue and licks a long thick stripe and he groans lowly, the vibrations making you squirm under him. 

“Fuck, more baby,” you beg. You gasp at the hook of his nose bumping your clit. Your hands fly to his hair, eyes closing swiftly, brows furrowed as you let out a loud moan. 

“There she is,” he smirks. He flicks his tongue over your clit. His eyes slip closed as he relishes in the noises leaving your mouth, like music to his ears. Your hips buck up into his face, selfishly grinding your cunt for more. Joel’s eyes flicker back up your face, “eyes on me sweetheart,” he murmurs. Your eyes snap open to watch him as he brings his fingers back up to your cunt, two thick fingers dip into you and you can hear the wet squelch as he eases his fingers in, simultaneously, he circles his tongue around your clit. He pumps his fingers slowly in and out of you, his tongue lapping at your cunt. You feel the pressure building up more intensely inside of your belly and then you’re chanting his name as he curls his fingers inside you, petting at the spongy spot he knows will break you. He closes his mouth around your clit and he sucks hard. 

“Fuck, Joel, yes yes,” Your hips bucking up into his face, your legs start to shake as you come on his face and your cunt tightening around his fingers, a loud strangled moan filling the air. 

“That’s my girl,” he says as he watches you gasp above him, pressing a quick kiss to your clit. Your eyes flutter open just in time to see him removing his fingers, all wet and shiny, and putting them in his slick covered mouth, sucking them clean. 

Softly, he grabs your ankles, pulling you down towards the edge of the bed eliciting a giggle. His favorite sound…well one of his favorites. His favorite being the next sound that comes out of your mouth when he quickly pulls your panties down. He sees the wet shine of your cum in the center and his face lights up with glee. “You made such a mess ‘a your panties, baby,” he tuts before tossing them across the room. He unties the towel from his waist and lets it fall and it pools around his legs, revealing his thick, heavy cock, the tip angry and beads of precum seeping out of the slit. You place your hands around your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, presenting your already spent pussy to him once again and he groans roughly.

He leans forward, his fingers running through your folds once more, and you quiver at his touch. He gathers your cum on his fingers and strokes himself twice before he dips the wide tip of his cock inside of you. A whine leaves your lips. That. That was his favorite sound. He doesn’t push in further… he doesn’t move an inch. He’s teasing you…wants you to ask nicely for it. Like clockwork his voice laced with honey he says “Ask for it baby, ask for my cock.” 

Desperate, you whine again “please joel… I need your cock.” Your needy fingers trail lightly over his soft belly, sitting up slightly, you place soft kisses from his belly button down to the dark patch of hair above his cock, his body trembles at the feeling of your lips ghosting over his belly and a breathy moan escapes his lips. He laces his fingers with yours, bringing your hands near your head, his large form encompassing your smaller frame, he lowers himself down over you, his lips brushing against yours. “Baby, please. Please fuck my pussy” you mewl. He pushes his cock deeper, deeper, and deeper til the head of his cock kisses your cervix, provoking a loud groan from him against your ear as he nestles himself into you, where he belongs. 

“See baby all you had to do was ask politely” Joel cooes. He drags his hips back, leaving only his tip inside you once again and you clench around him. “Fuck, goddamn you’re fucking tight,” he grits. Slowly he starts thrusting his tip in and out. 

You whine again, “Baby don’t be mean. I want all of it.” 

“Shh..I know baby, I know,” he soothes. Then in one long single thrust, he wedges his cock back inside of you to the hilt, bottoming out into your cunt, hitting the spot that only he knows with a loud ragged groan into the crook of your neck. His cock is stretching you out, feeling every twitch, he’s everywhere and it’s overwhelming. He hitches your legs up towards your chest, opening you up more, your chest pressed tightly against his, he drags the weight of his cock languidly between your slick, moaning at the wet sound of his balls slapping against your ass fills the room. 

When you look up at him it’s like you can see a lightbulb go off in his head and before you know it, Joel’s large hands grab the swell of your ass, he picks you up, and repositions you both so he’s on his back and has you sitting on his thick cock. He wants you to ride him. In this position you can feel him in the deepest parts of your belly and it hurts just a little bit but you find pleasure in it, you always have.  

Leaning forward, you place your hands on the headboard and arching your back a bit more, Joel's head falls back down onto the pillows. At the sudden change of the angle, his eyes shut for just a second before he’s snapping them right back open. He doesn’t want to miss a single thing. He wants to see it all.  He watches how your breasts bounce as you move and quickly, he leans up to catch a nipple in his mouth. He’s licking and sucking all over your pebbled nipple and then his teeth graze along the hardened peak before swiftly pulling it between his teeth. He moves onto the other and he flicks his tongue over your nipple, he sucks and nips at it lightly before he lets your tit fall from his mouth, admiring the slight bounce of your breast before his eyes lock in on your face, watching your face contort and your mouth open while you seek your high. It's his favorite thing, watching you like this. 

“Jesus Christ, look at you, you’re takin’ me so well,” he groans. 

The grip of his hands on your hips tightens but doesn’t guide you, just seeks some ounce of control. You lean forward more so your clit brushes ever so slightly against the dark patch of curls at his base. The friction makes you approach your orgasm quickly. Joel’s eyes flicker down to where you two are connected, taking pleasure in seeing his cock splitting you open, watching as it disappears deep inside of you. 

“That’s it, baby. Fuck….use me. Fuck yourself on daddy’s cock, atta girl,” You roll your hips faster, grinding harder on his cock, greedy and desperate to come again. “C’mon baby, come all over my cock.” 

His words and your clit repeatedly pressing against him make your hips stutter and you clench around him as your orgasm finally washes over you, harder than before. Your body goes limp on his chest. Joel doesn’t let up, he grabs your thighs and lifts his hips, relentlessly fucking his cock up into you. His cock slams into you so hard the wet slapping sound of your bodies fills the room. 

You turn your head and press your lips to his ear, nipping at his earlobe, you spur him on “c’mon Joel, come for me baby,” you softly rasp. “C’mon baby, for me, do it for me love,” you whisper and he whimpers, his thrusts becoming faster, more erratic. You bite down on his shoulder to muffle the whines that leave your mouth as he fucks into you harder, your walls tighten around him, his cock twitches inside you before he hastily pulls out with a long pained groan and with his cock between your bodies, his cum spurts out, thick and warm, coating his stomach. A moment passes and you lower your lips down his chest, feeling the rough edges of his skin underneath your lips as you pepper open mouthed kisses along his strong torso, the soft skin of his belly, over the jagged scar on his lower abdomen, all the way down his happy trail, you feel him shiver beneath you. 

You sit up on his thighs, locking your eyes with his, you bring your fingers down to his cum on his stomach. You look back up at him, your gaze meeting his as you swirl your fingers twice in his spend and bring your shiny, sticky coated fingers up to your mouth, closing your lips around your fingers, sucking them clean. His mouth agape, he’s staring back at you while you use your fingers to lick up his cum, “dirty girl, one’a these days you’re gonna gimme a heart attack woman,” he groans. 

The memory of it all…you riding him, your naked breasts bouncing, his cock impaling you, watching it disappear inside you over and over, your cunt clamping down around his cock and the echo of your moans as you came last night playing in his head sends him hurtling over the edge.

His cock twitches in his hand, his other hand slamming down on the counter, he groans your name raggedly and his thighs quiver as he comes hard into his fist, harder than he ever has when jerking himself off. He pumps his release into your panties, hot, thick ropes of his cum painting your panties. His cum spurting out seemingly endless for a man his age. 

If you were here in front of him he would pull the fabric up over your thighs, making you wear your cum filled panties before going about the rest of your day.

But you’re not here so instead he brings the cum soaked panties up to his face, eyeing his spend and your wetness for a moment. He stops himself and contemplates the idea in his head as he eyes the glistening sheen over the center. Just as quickly as the thought infiltrated his head, he decides against it and bunches up the thin material and tosses them in the old laundry basket sat in the corner of your shared bathroom. Joel tucks himself back into his jeans, washes his hands, limping slightly as he walks out of your bedroom and closes the door behind him leaving your laundry for another day.

[harunovella]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language (verse iv); s.g.

synopsis: you and gojo go on your first double date... or is it really? content: canon divergence (teen!gojo era), fem!reader, hopeless romantic gojo, best bros satoru and suguru bickering as always, gojo may have had a 'help I've fallen on your boobs and I can't get up' moment, bestie shoko, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: another addition to my gojo anthology series! this one was sm fun to write, I love writing gojo and geto being nothing but idiots tbh... wanna be tagged? lmk in the replies!

"A dinner? A fancy dinner?" Shoko asked as you nodded. "What's a bunch of sixteen year olds gonna do at a fancy dinner?" She raised a brow in confusion. Ever since being paired by Yaga with Shoko, the two of you have grown quite close. You were more than thankful, as much as you loved your own little trio (including Nanami and Haibara), it was nice to have a friend that wasn't... well, a male. 

Not that there was something wrong with that, you saw Nanami like a sort of twin—though you were a bit more on the social side—he got along with you the most. Then there was Haibara, who was an absolute sweetheart and a gem, the energy both you and your blond twin needed. However, seeing as Ieiri was your senior, there was quite a lot to learn from her—outside from the jujutsu world. 

There was also Geto and Gojo... Geto was an interesting person to be around. He had dark humor but also was nothing but kind to you. Gojo, on the other hand...

"A double date?!" Satoru exclaimed as he was alone with Suguru after you invited the two young men to the dinner you told Shoko about. 

Arching an eyebrow, Suguru crossed his arms. "Who said this is a double date? In your delusional world, you're dating our little junior when she only sees you as a friend—"

"That's a lie!" Gojo snapped, earning a snicker from his best friend. "I'll have you know we get along very well, we hangout a lot! And— and we have a lot of fun conversations!"

"Sounds fun," Geto said sarcastically. "We all know you're madly in love with her. However, we have no idea how she feels about you."

"Then explain the double date, huh?" Gojo was now the one to cross his arms, tapping his foot. "You and Shoko, me and my mochi?"

Sighing, Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose. "Again, not a double date. It's four friends going to a nice restaurant to support one of our friend's family members. Nothing more, nothing less," he explained, only for everything to go into one ear and out the other for the white haired boy before him. 

Satoru was in his own world, delusional as always, eyes sparkling at the thought of you in a cute dress. Heels or no heels, makeup or not, he just couldn't help but fantasize about how beautiful you were going to look tonight!

"Earth to Satoru?" Geto waved his hand in front of his best friend, only to laugh. "Thinking about how cute she'll look tonight, huh?"

"Yeah..." Gojo nodded, a face of pure ecstasy, as if he were about to drool. 

"Maybe I'll swap dates, you can have Shoko, I'll have our beautiful—"

"No!" Satoru shouted, instantly jumping Suguru. "She's my date for the night!"

"Good luck with that, if you look like an idiot right now thinking about her, just imagine you tonight!" Suguru laughed as he shoved Satoru off of him. "You're gonna look like a complete idiot!"

"You're not discreet..." Geto mumbled towards Gojo as the young man sat beside you, cheek pressed in the palm of his hand as he ever so casually gazed at you. You were in the middle of a conversation with Shoko, something about a movie you both recently had seen together. Too lost in your discussion, laughing and enjoying the evening as Suguru watched his best friend look like he was in a trance. "You are literally staring..." Furrowing his eyebrows as a look of slight disgust took over his face, Suguru kicked Satoru. 

"Shh," Gojo brushed off, kicking him back. 

"You're lucky she's in her own world with Shoko to even hear us," Geto kicked again, feeling his best friend constantly kick back. Gojo was too focused on you to even pay him any mind.

The restaurant, although fancy, was quite lively and practically filled to the brim. The reservations were endless and everyone that came and went looked like they came from money. Satoru and Suguru wore similar suits, solely because they bought them last minute and ended up with the same look (Satoru was NOT happy, but Suguru found it very funny). Shoko, after seeing them, called them tweedledee and tweedledum... You, on the other, found it cute. 

Cute... Gojo kept hearing your words echo in his head. You thought he, himself, was cute?! Forget Suguru, you said he was cute! He couldn't help but indulge in it as he gazed at you practically the whole dinner. For a split second, he did acknowledge the fact that you looked beyond gorgeous. In a white, fitted dress, hugging your curves with a sweetheart neckline... It was safe to say his mind was split in two. In particular, the two brain cells he had. Half of his mind was floating in the clouds of your compliment while the other half was focused on the top of your breasts (practically where his eyes kept falling to). He was... somewhat of a gentleman, he just couldn't help that dirty side of him. You were beautiful! He wanted you!

In his defense, he was used to seeing you in your uniform jacket, skirt, and tights... the times you weren't, you were always dressed cute and comfortable. Never had he seen you like this, curves and all. 

Reaching over the table and yanking on Gojo's hair, Geto stifled a laugh as his best friend snapped his head and growled. "Rude, I was busy!" He hissed, reaching over and tugging on the bangs that hung over the dark haired young man's forehead. 

Caught up with your conversation with Shoko (and not entirely hearing the commotion beside you with all the various voices around you in the restaurant) a sudden gasp left the brunette as she watched it all happen before her in slow motion. Gojo and Geto shoved one another, completely forgetting where they were as others nearby watched in confusion. 

From one second to the next, you were knocked off your chair, head thudding with the ground as a body collapsed against you. Various gasps and whispers were heard as you winced. Blinking a few times and trying to sit up, you felt a pressure against your chest. Both Shoko and Suguru (who was pulled to his feet by Shoko), stared at the disaster before them. Satoru, with his face planted against your chest, as you stared at him, wide eyed. 

"Satoru!" Shoko exclaimed, smacking his head as he lifted it, staring at you with a shared blush, before both of his friends yanked him up. 

"I— I am so sorry!" He exclaimed, reaching for your hand to help you up as you looked stunned. 

"God, you two are so immature. Before we get kicked out, take her home and I'll handle this," Shoko tsked as you blinked, only to snap out of your daze. 

"It's— It's okay! I'll handle this! I invited you all—"

"No, you hit your head hard, let me handle this. Dummie over here will take you," Shoko kicked Satoru's calf. "Go. Now."

Without second thinking his actions, Gojo took your hand and lead you out. Both of you ignored the displeased stares and gossip that spread over the four kids who "shouldn't have been allowed into a restaurant like this in the first place." 

Walking out, Satoru stopped in his tracks before turning to face you. "I'm so sorry about... my face being in your... Anyway, are you okay?" He asked, using his free hand to gently touch the back of your head. "There's no bump, but, are you alright?"

"I— It's okay, I'm not hurt," you swore as you nodded your head, looking up at him with your doe eyes. Gojo swore his heart grew two times its size. "I promise," you softly smiled. 

Nodding, a small smile grew on the young man's lips. He couldn't help but gaze at you, softness in his eyes as he kept his hand on the back of your head. Silence weaved its way between the two of you. Nothing uncomfortable. You stood there for what felt like hours, looking at one another and nearly forgetting what you were doing or where you were. 

The sound of honking snapped the two of you out of it as you realized you were out in the open, with people walking by and cars driving along. 

Clearing his throat, Satoru lowered his hand from your head and kept his other in yours. "Let's get you home, yeah?"

tag list: @bakananya @strangehuman101 @thirtykiwis @sillygoosegoose (some of u I sadly couldn't tag!)

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

Any good cute tentacle hentai/fanfic you recommend? I recently read one of your fics and it made me feel all warm :(

hehe, i'm glad that you felt that way nonnie!! honestly considering writing actual standalone tentacle fics down the line, so it makes me happy that i've got people who also like tentacles ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡

tentacle hentai recs:

a tentacled romance. it does have impregnation and egg-laying but it's really wholesome!!

tentacle life. also has egg laying and pregnancy and it's pretty short but omg tentacles co-existing with their hosts and doing chore is so cute!!

newly married life with a tentacle. this one has nipple fucking which i'm not really a fan of but it's honestly a cute wholesome read <33

highly conscious tentacles. the idea of tentacles enhancing women's beauty and physical conditions with the only real setback being impregnation is honestly pretty neat

tentacles training. includes anal but i doubt that's gonna really bother anybody. this one was actually pretty funny and the girl being a tsundere about the tentacle making her feel good was so nice σ(*´∀｀*)

tentacle fics recs:

a hidden gem. love the idea of an adult beach resort having tentacles from the ocean for their guests to enjoy and treating it like any other attraction

a walk in the woods. omg this one is what ultimately got me into tentacles, it's still just as good as when i read it back then. absolutely adore this one

slick it. god i love the idea of stumbling across a tentacle monster in the woods but it's all consensual and the sex is so good that you wanna come back later ╰(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)╯

grounded. an arknights one, and it involves skadi, so bit of a warning right there, but it all has a very underlying intimate undertone and a cute ending so i really like it. also it's for the girlies so i'm so happy to actually see female doctor content on ao3

intimacy with deepcolor. omg another female doctor fic, and it's another consensual tentacle fic. i've been recently using deepcolor a lot more, and even unlock her module, so this was a treat to read <33

[planned-obsolescence]

god-tier sydcarmy fics

no one asked but i'm suddenly overcome with gratitude that fic writers just drop these gems for FREE. we are so lucky. these are the ones i constantly reread because they make me feel so much.

all of these are rated M or E because if they ain't fuckin, i ain't reading.

five times at a simmer; once boiling over by seh28 my kink? emotional intimacy. that's what these two need more than any bullshit stars. this fic serves it up like it's a floor donut and i'm carmy straight up eating that shit.

friends, partners, and intimates by sashafiercer i'm always here for it when syd gives carmy what he deserves. and i'm DEFINITELY here for it when the dialogue between the two is so on point it gives me whiplash. written by an all time 🐐.

forget about your house of cards by minecrafter42 i love reading about how carmy can't get it together in sydney's presence. this fic presents their dynamic so viscerally that the slow burn is more like a slow simmer. i needed a cigarette after i finished this one.

temper, temper by malariamonsters have you ever read anything so beautiful it made you cry? yeah, this fic. it's at the top of the tag for a reason because it captures carmy's consuming love for syd so perfectly. i want to live inside this fic.

child with a child pretending by emilybrontay sydney has a baby before she starts working at the beef, and carmy knows what bluey is. i'm done. i am very picky when it comes to stories set in sydney's POV (my girl is a complex masterpiece, you better get her right), and this is one of the greatest, most thoughtful.

Mise En Place by badcircuit love fics that present syd and carmy as partners in every sense of the word. beautifully written, hot as fuck. another one that gets syd right. again, i take portrayals of my girl so seriously and this one is gorg.

Take Care by oysterknife oh boy. this one literally came out last week but i already read it upwards of 10 times. i will read anything oysterknife writes but GODDAMN. this one changed my brain chemistry with the emotional intimacy between the two. i love longing and yearning and this one is like a masterclass in it. the literary references made me kick my feet and giggle. as a brooklyn girlie, THIS is the nyc i wanna see: flushing, crown heights, greenpoint minus the condos, shitting on the residents of murray hill, i want it all. also the ending made me sob. not joking.

[galeofyourwaterdeep]

Gale headcanon Part 2: Wedding Day

Part 1 Here

Galemancers, y’all really liked my first post with all of Gale’s (very likely to be real) wedding planning/day of antics.

I do think this would make for a fun fic and I wanna write it, but yours truly is not in a position to start any new projects at the time being (not saying it will never happen, just right now isn’t a good time!). However, I still wanna add more to this goofy idea of mine.

Here goes!

Wyll giving them lessons for their first dance as a married couple. It’s as hilarious as it is painful to watch. Gale has two left feet and keeps stepping on Tav’s toes. Tav cries out in pain and Gale feels awful so he conjures a rose to apologize.

G: “The Soirées in Waterdeep don’t move with such grand gestures and arduous foot work!” W: “That’s why you asked me to help you, Gale. Baldurs Gate throws magnificent parties.”

Gale keeps reading and rereading spell based cookbooks to try and whip up the reception meal in one fell swoop. He doesn’t trust a caterer and wouldn’t like the taste of anyone’s food but his own.

Tav keeps begging him to let someone else do the work since he’s stressing himself out with these small details, but all Gale does is smile and give Tav a pat on the head and a kiss on the cheek.

G: “Don’t worry about me, my love. Our day will be perfect, just like you are.” T: “I don’t want it to be perfect, I just want you to relax and have fun.”

Tav goes to a separate room to sleep the night before and finds their bed adorned with flowers and petals in heart shapes

Tav finds a note beneath all the bed decorations

“My dearest love, I write this with nervous hands and a fast-beating heart - we are almost upon our wedding day. What seems like a grand milestone is only just the beginning of an even more remarkable adventure. Our days of journeying through Faerûn may be over, but it only prepared me for the most important journey of them all: being your husband. You are everything, Tav. You have made me a better man. My connection with you is as innate as mine with magic itself. From this day forward, I will devote the rest of my life to your happiness. The beginning of that chapter is upon us both, and I am nearly bursting (despite my lack of an orb to make it so) in anticipation for it to begin. With utmost love, your soon to be husband - Gale.

Tav won’t be able to sleep so instead they read this letter over and over again 🥰

Gale lets Tav wear whatever they want on their big day and even paid for it

He just wants his bb to be at their happiest and this is the least he can do

Tav ofc hires Figaro the dressmaker and Zara the mummy to do makeup

Gale turning around and seeing his spouse for the first time the day of 🥺

He’s literally unable to breathe when he sees them walking down the aisle, however he is partly relieved because he was still anxious about Tav getting cold feet

Gale tears up as he reads his vows 🥺

Their wedding rings bearing the same gem that Tara has on her collar

Scratch is summoned 🥺 and becomes a permanent member of the Dekarios household, and even gets his own gem at the ceremony 😭

Owlbear gets the distinct honor of being ringbearer. He takes it very seriously. Because he knows he will get a snack for it later.

“Withers I would like to recruit a hireling” says Gale *puts an apron on the hirelings to have them clean up after the guests*

Halsin whittles them a pair of swans with their necks in a heart shape as their wedding gift. It becomes Tav’s most treasured knick knack in the tower.

Lae’zel gifts them a pair of swords, which is probably customary for her but not so much for couples in Faerûn (Gale fashions a coat of arms above the hearth with them anyway)

Astarion: “I am the gift.” 🙄

Tara finally begins to warm up to Tav when she fully realizes that Tav makes a great addition to the Dekarios family

Tara shows this by flying into Tavs lap and rubbing her face against Tav

Lasts for only about 30 seconds however. She can’t be seen letting her guard down to anyone.

The night ends, Gale and Tav retreat back to the tower with full hearts and a gleam in their eyes, proud of all they’d done to build their lives and excited for what comes next.

But there’s still going to be copious amounts of sex that night of course. They barely get past the threshold of the doorway before they’re ripping each other’s clothes off.

They’re drunk, but not just because they’ve had a few drinks. Love drunk, adrenaline drunk, life drunk.

“They deserve this night, after all they’ve been through,” Karlach says to Wyll as they are walking back to the portal to Avernus.

“Some day that will be us,” Wyll replies proudly.

💜

[pix3lplays]

Anyone else just…wanting Argenti to be here sooner?? Like I want my bby ☹️

I did some calculations of how many more pulls I’ll get from me finishing the current event and my daily mission reward gems. I currently have like 122 pulls rn or smt and with THOSE added on pulls. After more math, I’ll be able to get either both Argenti and his LC or just Argenti <33

I actually cannot wait any longer till his banner comes, I have everything for him.

Also out of curiosity, will you be writing for him request wise or are you waiting till you have more info? :D I wanna request him but if you wanna wait idm.

Anyways, sorry for my lil rant :,)

HSR Men when you leave lipstick marks all over his face without him knowing? He finds out because of other people <33 (Blade, Jing Yuan, Dan Heng and Loucha please)

Make sure to take hydrate and take breaks as well okay!! >:) A cookie for your troubles 🍪

-Signed: Argentis Spouse

So Yeah I will write Argenti requests as you’ve likely seen, hehe~

Let’s Do It that’s so cute

Cw! A little bit suggestive-

-Covering them in lipstick marks-

Blade: Kafka laughs. Blade looks confused. All he had done was walk out of a room and run into her and now she was laughing at him?? “Did you have a good time with y/n, Bladie?” And he looks So confused. How could she Possibly know what he had been up to?? Then she pulls out her hand mirror and shows him his face. COVERED in pretty little red kiss marks. He actually looks. A little flustered. He quickly excuses himself to the restroom to clean himself off.

Jing Yuan: Yanqing is the one who has to go…”uh…General…” then he points to his face awkwardly. Jing Yuan doesn’t care at all. He’s proud. Heck, he’ll talk about it. Talk about how you were in his office, peppering his face with kisses while you sat on his desk where he was working. Oh my gosh the way Yanqing covers his ears-

Dan Heng: Dan Heng hears from March 7th hehe. She. Pulls out her camera. And takes a picture first. And Dan Heng is just like ??? So she shows him the picture. And the way his eyes WIDEN and his face REDDENS. He’s flustered, he really is. You didn’t tell him after your little session that you left marks- He hides in the archives before anyone else can see.

Luocha: He prides himself on his elegant appearance. So imagine his surprise when Jingliu won’t stop staring at him in that disturbing way she does. “Had fun with a friend?” she finally asks. And he’s like. “What? How do you mean?” And he takes a look at himself in the mirror, and he gasps like a repressed Victorian maiden, struggling to wipe off the kiss marks.

Bonus!Argenti (just for you Argenti’s spouse😉): Argenti prides himself on being presentable. But he’s also a man who loves himself a good make-out session with his lover. He didn’t really consider the Consequences though. All he knew was that your lips were an especially pretty shade of red that day, and he wanted kissesss- You Try to tell him to clean up before he goes out but- He’s gone before you can haha… Ah well.

[blicketdabest33]

Y'all remember that MCYT PJO au I asked for help with awhile ago? WELL HERE'S THE CABINS AND MY EXPLINATIONS BEHIND THEM!!

#1 Zeus Cabin: Jimmy, Joel Jimmy: He's a Zeus kid, but everyone somehow forgets about it. Joel: He's competitive and strong. Also, because Jimmy is his half brother through godly parent, i get to make a fun bit about him dating Lizzie. And one of his origins in Afterlife SMP was a thunderborn

#2 Hera Cabin: Scott Scott: Scott's whole thing is loyalty. Hera is the goddess of marriage and is insanely loyal to Zeus. However, I feel like Hera should get at least one affair. So now Scott can use peacocks as weapons.

#3 Poseidon Cabin: Skizz Skizz: Poseidon kids tend to be really, really loyal to a fault and heroic, both qualities I think Skizz possesses.

#4 Demeter Cabin: Sausage, Shelby, Bdubs, Stress Sausage: This man built Sanctuary in a jungle and has flowers in his hair. He sells wood. There is no other place to put him. Shelby: Mushroom gnome, spooky mangrove witch, powerful storm witch, i need not continue. Bdubs: Moss man. Stress: SHE HAS FLOWERS

#5 Ares Cabin: Martyn, False Martyn: His planet is Mars, which is the roman version of Ares. He ended Limited Life in such a violent way, i can't help it. He was also red for the majority of Secret Life. False: I just feel like False should get to kill people more often.

#6 Athena Cabin: Grian, Pix, Owen, Xisuma Grian: This sums it up pretty well

Pix: Smart man. Archeologist and definitely a nerd. I wanna see him skipping out on training just so he can read history books. Owen: He likes to explore and discover new things in Pirates. In Rats, he's a tinkerer. In New Life, he's an explorer who wants to study hybrids. In Empires, he's a Llama who's curious about how humans work. Just a very curious character overall. Xisuma: Admin. I'm not elaborating.

#7 Apollo Cabin: Gem, Oli, Lyarrah Gem: She is an Apollo kid because of her Empire in S2. She's the sunlight princess. Apollo kid. Oli: MUSIC. MAN. Lyarrah: She writes the captions for the hermitcraft recap.

#8 Artemis Cabin: Pearl Pearl: Y'know, Artemis could've just like... had a kid, even though she took that oath. It wouldn't even have to be with a guy. Gods can change to whatever gender they want. Anyway, Pearl gets to be an Artemis kid because her symbolism is moon, she loves dogs, and will commit murder and hunt at night.

#9 Hephaestus Cabin: Doc, Mumbo, Tango, Impulse, Cub, Zedaph, Fwhip, Iskall Doc: Redstone Mumbo: Redstone Tango: Redstone Impulse: Redstone Cub: Redstone Zedaph: Redstone Fwhip: Redstone AND has a red scarf (don't ask me how that's relevant) Iskall: Redstone

#10 Aphrodite Cabin: Keralis Keralis: Okay, I don't know why, but Keralis gives me the vibes of a very charming person. His voice is nice to listen to, so imagine how useful it'd be if I gave him charm speak.

#11 Hermes Cabin: Scar, Etho, Joe Scar: Trader Scar, scammer extraordinar. Etho: All i must say is Shady-E's. I get "jack-of-all-trades, master of none, often better than master of one" vibes from him. He's funny, he's mischievous, it just works. Joe: Comedy man. Excellent delivery. And, yet again, i look at this man and go "That right there is a multi-talented man with a habit for mischief."

#12 Dionysus Cabin: Joey, Beef Joey: *points at his season one empires theme* i need not say more Beef: Idk, food. I don't really have a reason. I don't know too much about Beef.

#13 Hades Cabin: Zloy Zloy: Zombie man. He writes the Hermitcraft recaps in the dark at 2am with nothing but pure spite.

#14 Iris Cabin: Katherine Katherine: SHE. HAS. COLORS. and also I couldn't put her in Demeter cabin because Shelby is already there and i am NOT excluding Nature Wives from this au

#15 Hypnos Cabin: Bigb, XB, Wels Bigb: Sleepy stuff, right? WRONG. Gaslight. Go in everyones dreams, make fake prophecies, peace out, and cause chaos. XB: I look at his fanon design, I see an alien, and I go "aha he sleeps" Wels: This guy (@dingdinghq) said so and i completely agree. Something about sleeping in S6.

#16 Nemesis Cabin: Edit: wels not here no more

#17 Nike Cabin: Ren Ren: VICTORY. I don't know much about Ren's story in the Life Series, but I look at this man and see someone who has won a lot.

#18 Hebe Cabin: 

#19 Tyche Cabin: TFC TFC: Man goes mining and gets really lucky. That's it.

#20 Hecate Cabin: Lizzie, Cleo, Jevin Lizzie: Witchy vibes. Also, Arson. Cleo: Arson. She uses her magic for Arson. Jevin: He's a magic slime. Also, Arson. All Hecate kids love Arson.

[marsmarbles]

I hope you guys don’t mind more writing ‘cause I want to do it more often. This was meant to be a request for Gem and Skizz interacting, but I accidentally posted my work in progress instead of saving it as a draft lol. So uhhh sorry. Imma try something new and sprinkle in some art to go along with the story(since I’m assuming you guys wanna see that more than writing)

What Makes Me So Special?

Word count: 900

It was late morning when Skizz entered the detective’s base living room looking down in the dumps. Gem was sitting on the couch to Skizz’s left, which was more of a wooden bench. There wasn’t a lot of options for furniture. It was either a rock couch or a wooden couch, and Skizz knew Grian and Gem wouldn’t let a rock couch in their living room slide.

Gem was wiping down her brand new diamond sword with a white cloth(which won’t ever be white again, probably), which she had just taken for a test drive overnight. It was stained with monster guts and dark, almost brownish purple zombie blood. It was truly disgusting, but Gem seemed unbothered, letting it seep into her long, pleated skirt as she held her cyan blade on her lap.

Gem didn’t even have to look up to examine Skizz’s expression, she knew something was wrong. No way in the whole Minecraft multiverse would Skizz walk into a room without so much as a hi.

Skizz plopped down next to her on the couch with a long winded sigh and a grunt as his bottom made impact with the thick wood of the couch. He continued to sigh and readjust his sitting position like he had forgotten how to sit correctly, bobbing his eyes back in forth, trying to catch Gem’s eye. He wanted to talk about something that was bothering him, but for some reason he wanted Gem to strike up the conversation. Then, he began whistling, which could be seen as a death sentence. As skilled as a fighter Gem was, she’s wasn’t afraid to give her friends a good whack if they annoyed her.

Instead, Gem compacted herself like a shrimp to put her face closer to her sword, pointlessly scrubbing more violently in one spot, which was very much clean by now. Her eye twitched in annoyance to the sound of Skizz’s airy, ear piercing whistle. Don’t get her wrong, she loved Skizz, but she had just pulled an all nighter fighting monsters and really didn’t have the energy to deal with anyone right now. She had the eye bags and unkept hair to show for it.

After tolerating Skizz for a good long while(and being on the verge of stabbing him), Gem finally gave in. “What’s wrong, Skizz?” Gem groaned.

“GEMSTONE!!” Skizz shouted a little too loud. He had been holding in his words for what felt like forever. He most definitely looked constipated. “Y’know how I really like Impulse??”

“Yeah…?” Gem replied, raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘and?’. What was new? She’s heard this story a bagillion times. Skizz really likes Impulse. Skizz pretty much told her every second of every day. Or at least he’s brought it up enough for Gem to give up on counting.

“Well….” Skizz hesitated. He actually seemed serious for once. Or was it sad? Maybe it was the tone in his voice. “I guess I feel kinda lame ‘round him, y’know. He’s just so smart and cool and I genuinely love to be around the guy. He’s special y’know….Special to me…..I just don���t feel special….I can’t build a house without it looking ugly. I can’t make a red stone thingy-ma-jig and have it work. And I can’t even fight good. I can’t even muster up the courage to tell him how I feel about him…” Skizz took a shaky breath. He sniffled, tilted his head up, and blinked a lot, trying to suck back the tears attempting to escape his eyes.

He continued. “How can I possibly believe that he loves me too…..what makes me so special?…..I guess….I’m just scared he’s faking cuz he pities me.” He huffed and gripped his pant legs, trying to fight back the tears. It would usually kill a ‘real’ man to be this open.

“Skizz….” Gem’s expression shifted to concern. Now she felt horrible for trying to ignore him. No wonder Skizz was so abnormally hesitant to speak with her, he was trying to talk about feelings of inadequacy. She stared at the floor in contemplation, then drew a long breath, readying her advice. “Well, if I know Impulse(which I do) he loves you just as much.” Gem gave Skizz a small but comforting smile. “And if I know Impulse(which, again, I do) he thinks you’re special….very special.” Gem gave Skizz a nudge in the shoulder.

“But how do you know-“ Skizz attempted to retort.

“Impulse is smart, right?” Gem finished.

Skizz felt his face heat up. His halo, which floated just above his head, began to rotate slowly. He broke eye contact with Gem out of embarrassment, who continued to smile at him.

Gem shoved Skizz off the wooden couch bench, trying to break the awkward silence. “NOW GO GET THAT MAN! He’s waiting for you, Skizz! I assure you !” She projected reassuringly. Skizz was just able to catch himself. “Uhhh- YEAH!!” Skizz shuffled out of his awkward landing position and struck a triumphant pose. He turned back to Gem. “Thanks, Gemstone!! This little chat really helped me out! And it was kinda neat to let my feelings out. Imma go find Impulse!!! Seeya!!” Skizz ran off and out the door with his confidence restored. Gem let herself fall back into her seat on the couch, smiling proudly to herself for a job well done. She shed a tear of joy at the thought:

I’m going to have two dads!

[hushed-chorus]

Hi everyone! I’m climbing out of my cave and scheduling this in advance to spread the good word about vampire angst. Because, as anyone who’s read my blog title knows, I am a fiend for vampire angst, and there is some cracking vampire angst in this fandom.

Here's a selection of fics that dive into the tasty vampire stuff, especially ones that come with a serving of ‘this sucks actually’. I love all of these, but I’m sure I’ve forgotten or missed other great fics, so please feel free to reblog with your own recs!

Also, since these fics all deal with how being a vampire sucks, I’d recommend checking the tags before diving in.

The Eternal Life of Baz Pitch by @monbons

I am asking you all, please, hop on board and join me in reading along with this WIP. Monbons has a wonderful writing style; well-paced and impactful. She’s made some inspired choices in this AU. Angsty, clever, and so, so engrossing. Tasty angst so far, and we still have many chapters to go!

burning pitch by stainedglassflood

Lamb is a character who really fascinates me. This ficlet imagines a conversation Baz and Lamb would have if Lamb discovered Baz was a mage under less bloody circumstance. This short and sweet fic is something of a hidden gem, and I’ll cry forever that this is a 600 word fic, not a 60k one.

Crowding out the Bad (with Good) by twigs_in_my_hair

Another WIP, and if you are a fan of lore, this is one for you. This AU involves Simon trying to improve his diet with the help of nutritionist (and reluctant vampire) Baz. Twigs devotes so much to exploring Baz’s feelings about his vampirism, and how it has left marks on his life, behaviour, etc. And, of course, there's a lovely bit of slow burn Snowbaz along the way!

Joy and Trust by @bookish-bogwitch

Bogwitch constantly surprises and impresses me with her range. This short (400 words), sweet and heartbreaking ficlet sees Baz receiving a Visiting during the events of Carry On. I love it so much.

Proof of Life by @roomwithanopenfire

What if Natasha Pitch survived the vampire attack, but Baz still got Turned? What would that mean for Baz and the World of Mages? In this WIP, it means a Baz who is even more angsty about being a vampire than he already is in canon—and with good reason. Added bonus is the consideration for the wider canon divergence. What would Watford be like if Natasha is still headmistress but Davy is the Mage? Very intriguing fic so far, especially now we’ve landed in eighth year!

This is where it ends by LakeWitch

The least Baz-focused on the bunch, this fic is about the Mage taking Old Family children prisoner for leverage and the aftermath. It sees Baz hit his lowest point (gave me the big good sads), and then follows how he and Simon recover from all they’ve been through. Love it. 

A Record of You and I by Sip_of_your_soul

Argh. I just can’t. This one hurt so good. Want to die a little inside for fun? Read this.

Thanks everyone, I'm eager to see any recs you wanna make! Tags below the cut!

@artsyunderstudy @facewithoutheart @captain-aralias @raenestee @cutestkilla

@ivelovedhimthroughworse @larkral @stitchyqueer @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

@ileadacharmedlife @confused-bi-queer @aristocratic-otter @whogaveyoupermission

@nightimedreamersworld @fatalfangirl @thewholelemon @onepintobean @shrekgogurt

@theearlgreymage @martsonmars @blackberrysummerblog @orange-peony @valeffelees

@j-nipper-95 @rimeswithpurple @wellbelesbian @imagineacoolusername

@youarenevertooold @iamamythologicalcreature @supercutedinosaurs @alexalexinii

@bookish-bogwitch @cosmicalart @bazzybelle @theotherhufflepuff

@that-disabled-princess @prettygoododds @mooncello @noblecorgi @roomwithanopenfire

@emeryhall @monbons

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | two

🐴Chapter summary: Life on the ranch is hard and you keep fucking everything up with stupid mistakes.  🐴Chapter title: It's a Long Road 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: mention of past character death (parents) 🐴Status: completed (the epilogue is in the works!) 🐴Word count: 9.1k 🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog @kiki-zb @babejinnie @ownthesunshine @allie-is-a-panda @glllhjh @bergandysam @13-manggaetteok

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “Common Ground” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note (1): I really enjoy writing this so far. But this idea has been stuck in my head for months, so it feels wonderful to finally get it out! I’m still not sure if anyone would read this– but it’s already a gem to me. Thank you for reading!

There’s a scene in here that my lovely and wonderful friend @letjungcoook7 give me the idea to (it has something to do with clothes 🤭). Thank you so much for that Lua, I think it added some more fun to it ✨

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

“Common ground, find common ground It is out there, it can be found Many chances, many ways Common ground, the road is laid”  - Common Ground by Rebecca Lavelle

Your original plan was to leave… But reality has a way of unraveling even the best-laid plans. Now, here you are, a week after that steamy romp with Jungkook, still in need of Jessi's elusive signature.

Surviving on the ranch proves challenging, and while your farming skills leave much to be desired, strangely, they seem to bring a spark to Jessi's mood. Amidst the hardships, you're learning to cut yourself some slack.

Calling in a favor from a city friend, a bundle of your wardrobe arrives at the ranch, despite the fact that most of your outfits are far from farm-friendly. However, you find solace in the timeless pairing of jeans and shirts—pieces that work in any setting.

However, when it comes to footwear, you find yourself lacking the rugged, durable boots that the others sport. Your feet continue to be clad in sneakers, a clear misfit in this sea of robust workwear. Despite the glaring contrast, the idea of venturing to a store to purchase a pair is pushed aside; after all, you'll be returning home soon, won't you?

As you strive to lend a hand around the ranch, the sense of being more of a hindrance than assistance creeps in, casting a shadow on your enthusiasm. It's disheartening, but you persevere, masking your frustration with a determined smile. 

The blueprint to win Jessi's favor unfolds gradually. Tempted by the notion of pestering her into signing the paper, a more rebellious approach, you ponder the likely outcome – perhaps just another swift dismissal. 

Thus, opting for a strategic route, you resolve to stay, contribute, and gradually earn your place in her good graces.

Yet, reality proves to be more intricate than anticipated. Earning Jessi's trust unfolds as a formidable challenge. Fortunately, the camaraderie with the girls injects a daily dose of humor, infusing a much-needed levity into the demanding rigors of ranch life. Their presence becomes a driving force, propelling you through the grueling tasks with shared laughter and a sense of solidarity.

But that thing with Jungkook and Jimin? 

It’s a perplexing puzzle that haunts your thoughts. Grateful for the absence of both men since that eventful barn party, you find yourself at a loss. Jimin's wounded expression lingers in your mind; his unexpected hurt leaves you questioning the depth of his emotions. 

Why does it matter to him so much, and what, if anything, should you do about it?

Jungkook's reputation as a flirtatious charmer precedes him—undeniably a heartbreaker and a fuckboy. The logical part of you suggests steering clear of him altogether, yet you can't deny the undeniable truth—he delivered an unforgettable night that still lingers in your memory.

Jimin's piercing gaze remains etched in the recesses of your thoughts, tempting you to unravel the mystery behind his somber expression. A nagging curiosity creeps in—was it solely witnessing you with his brother, or does it delve into uncharted territories? 

Frustration mounts as you find yourself pondering over these unresolved questions, all while diligently shoveling manure in the dim-lit barn.

The relentless echo of Jimin's haunting gaze has dominated your thoughts throughout the week, a relentless presence that might easily dissipate with a simple conversation. Yet, the prospect of confronting those melancholic, deep brown eyes sends shivers down your spine, and your stomach churns with trepidation each time the memory of his gaze resurfaces.

You know you shouldn't dwell on thoughts of the Park brothers, especially after learning the intricacies of their familial ties. The revelation that they are half-brothers, sharing the same father, doesn't diminish the complexity of their relationship. They are still bound by blood, and the complications of their connection linger in your mind, tempting you into a web of contemplation you desperately try to escape.

You're drawn from your thoughts by the gentle whinny of a horse, and as you glance up, you're captivated by the majestic creature in its stall. 

While your knowledge of horses is limited, the rugged breed before you exudes a unique beauty, its pristine white coat and matching mane captivates you.

Memories of your childhood flood back when you used to ride horses on this very ranch. The nostalgic recollections evoke a sense of longing. However, the prospect of mounting a horse now appears somewhat daunting; these majestic creatures seem even more substantial and imposing as an adult.

Soo-ah's words echo in your mind, urging you to reclaim the reins and saddle up if you truly wish to contribute on the ranch. 

Contemplating the idea, you sense a growing determination within, a readiness to embrace the challenge and reconnect with the equestrian world you left behind.

Jessi's voice cuts through the rhythmic clatter of your stall-cleaning routine, a sudden burst of urgency that startles you. She barrels into the barn with a sense of urgency, proclaiming, “Hey! We've got to head to Park's ranch!” 

The abrupt interruption leaves you momentarily shaken from your chores.

Your shoulders slump as you mope and question, “Now?” 

The unfinished tasks nag at you, a testament to the never-ending workload on the ranch. The sense of wanting to complete your current chore before diving into the next one hangs heavy in your voice, and the realization dawns on you that the work on a ranch is an ever-flowing river, each completed task replaced by another in an endless stream.

“Yes, come on!” Her enthusiastic insistence echoes through the barn, and with a determined grunt, she secures a saddle and snatches up a bridle, cradling them with purpose under her arm. 

As you set the shovel aside, your eyes widen in disbelief. “Aren't we taking the car?” you inquire, puzzled by the sudden need for saddles and bridles, questioning the unconventional choice of transportation for this mysterious journey to Park's ranch.

Her response is resolute, accompanied by a hint of laughter underlying her words. “No. The horses are just as fast,” she asserts, the firmness in her voice accompanied by a playful chuckle, revealing her persistent agenda to get you back in the saddle since the day you committed to assisting on the ranch. You can almost visualize the sly curve of her smile.

Shivers of both excitement and nervousness run down your spine. It's happening – you're about to mount a horse for the first time since childhood. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. Yes, you're ready. Absolutely ready!

Jessi swings open the stall door, revealing the majestic white horse inside. 

She affectionately pats its head, and it responds with a gentle whinny, as if appreciating the attention. With practiced ease, she adorns the horse with a saddle and bridle. 

Stepping out with the horse in tow, she introduces, “Meet Marshmallow. Not only is he a serene and calm companion, but he's also perfect for beginners like you – friendly and patient.”

She hands you the bridle, a tangible connection to the upcoming adventure. As you cradle it in your hands, your gaze fixes on the magnificent white horse before you. A closer look reveals delicate gray spots adorning its coat, like nature's artistic brushstrokes enhancing its beauty.

Jessi tends to another horse, a rich brown beauty, securing a saddle and bridle. With graceful strides, she leads the horse towards you, introducing him with pride, “This is my horse, goes by the name Cinnamon.”

“I’ll help you up on your horse if you need that?” She chuckles, a teasing glint in her eyes, as if you've never mounted a horse before. 

“No, I'm perfectly capable. Thanks.” You retort, a tinge of frustration in your voice. You take a moment to gather the reins and locate the stirrup. The choice of a western saddle suddenly becomes a blessing, its size and comfort bringing a sense of familiarity and reassurance.

You stretch your left leg up, slotting your foot into the stirrup, and then firmly grasp the horn atop the saddle. Marshmallow remains remarkably still, a paragon of patience as you haul yourself up, swinging your right leg over his substantial white frame. A surge of triumph floods through you as you mount successfully, a proud smile illuminating your face as you glance over at your sister.

Her laughter rings out in congratulation as she mirrors your movements, executing them with a finesse that far surpasses your own. With a gentle push of her legs and the subtle click of her tongue, she effortlessly guides Cinnamon forward, setting a fluid and harmonious rhythm into motion.

Emulating your sister's skilled maneuver, you replicate the actions with Marshmallow, coaxing him to step leisurely out of the expansive brown barn.

Eyeing Jessi's brown hat, you playfully remark, “Hey, I need a hat like yours.” Her laughter rings out, and she quips, “I don't think it will suit you.”

Pouting slightly, you reluctantly admit she might be right. Hats have never been your forte. Meanwhile, Jessi rocks the rancher's look effortlessly with her boots, jeans, shirt, and the hat, completing the ensemble perfectly.

Her laughter echoes through the air as she nudges Cinnamon into a trot. Catching her infectious joy, you mimic the motion, urging Marshmallow to pick up the pace. The rhythmic sound of hooves on the ground makes your heart flutter.

As you navigate the trot, the uncertainty of your riding technique leaves you in an amusing predicament. Unsure whether to sit or stand in the saddle, you find a comical middle ground, hoping Marshmallow isn't too bothered. 

Jessi, catching sight of your improvised riding style, bursts into laughter.

“Are you sure this is as fast as the car?” Expressing your skepticism, you grumble while attempting to sync with Marshmallow's trot. The rhythmic clip-clop of hooves echoes around you, and you can't help but question if this equine journey rivals the speed of a car. Jessi glances at you with a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying your equine adventure.

In the midst of Marshmallow's trot, Jessi reassures you, “In trot, it's not. But if we gallop, it's just as fast.” 

As you ponder her words, it occurs to you that despite her initial urgency to reach the Park's farm, she's taking a leisurely pace, perhaps out of consideration for your riding abilities. Despite the dread of facing the Park brothers, a part of you yearns to arrive sooner, to get this over with as soon as possible.

“Let’s gallop then,” you declare, urging Marshmallow to quicken the pace by pressing your legs against his sides. However, to your surprise, nothing happens, leaving you in a momentary standstill of awkward anticipation.

“You have to sit down in the saddle, all your weight in your ass, and then press a little more with your legs,” Jessi advises, demonstrating the technique on Cinnamon. She adds a few clicking sounds with her tongue, coaxing him into a slow gallop that brings a newfound sense of excitement to the ride.

Following your sister's instructions, you concentrate your weight in your seat, anchored firmly in the saddle. As you press your legs gently, finally, Marshmallow responds, bursting into a slow gallop. The increased speed causes your hair to whip around your face, prompting you to make a mental note to braid it next time for a more practical riding experience.

Together, you and Jessi gallop through the paddocks, surrounded by the mesmerizing landscape of trees and bushes. The natural beauty here is breathtaking, a stark contrast to the towering buildings of the city. Vast open spaces stretch for miles, inviting you to lose yourself in the expansive, untamed wilderness.

As you ride, the motions become second nature, and memories flood back as if the years haven't passed. In just ten minutes, you reconnect with the familiarity of being in the saddle, as though the skill never left you.

Choosing to unleash a faster gallop, you and your sister give your horses the freedom to surge ahead across the lush green expanse. 

The wind caresses your face, setting your hair adrift like a carefree banner. In that exhilarating moment, a surge of childlike joy courses through you, reminiscent of carefree days filled with love. Memories of running in fields, playing hide and seek, and riding ponies with your sister flood your mind. The sheer nostalgia brings tears to your eyes, but you're grateful for the wind whisking them away before your sister can catch a glimpse.

As you approach what initially seemed like a quaint ranch in the distance, the truth unfolds—a vast expanse unfolds before you. The grandeur of the estate becomes apparent, with a towering two-story main house, a dedicated stable for horses, a barn housing machinery, and a sprawling structure that you suspect might be living quarters for the stable hands. The scale of the property dwarfs your own, leaving you in awe of its sheer size and splendor.

As you approach the ranch, an undeniable sense of dread takes residence in your body. 

The looming encounter with Jungkook and Jimin fills you with apprehension. Questions swirl in your mind, pondering how they perceive you – perhaps as the ‘once and done’ kind of girl. It's a misconception, not reflective of who you truly are, yet the complexities of forming a connection with someone like Jungkook, an apparent playboy living miles away, make you hesitant to dive into a relationship.

As you reach the fence, Jessi graciously swings open the gate, and you guide your horse, trotting the final stretch towards the big main house.

Dismounting gracefully, you secure the reins to a sturdy tree post, glancing at the trio of Ford Rangers nearby – a vivid blue one, a sleek black model, and a pristine white vehicle adorned with the distinctive ‘Bell Ranch’ logo. What a weird ranch name.

You stride towards the main house, ready to knock on the front door in a show of politeness. However, Jessi displays the familiarity of a long-time resident, confidently navigating the premises as if it were her own. Faced with an unanswered door, Jessi takes matters into her own hands, her voice echoing through the surroundings, “Kook! Where are you at?”

You roll your eyes, your tolerance for waiting a few moments longer evident, but you surmise this is the country way—or maybe your sister is just exceptionally impatient. Either way, you decide to go along with the local rhythm.

Your gaze locks onto a mop of blonde hair, and an instant wave of regret and uneasiness sweeps through your stomach. A dry lump forms in your throat as your eyes meet Jimin's. His smile, initially bright for your sister, fades into a closed-off expression the moment his gaze lands on you.

Impatience radiates from your sister as she taps her feet against the dirt, demanding answers. “Where's Kook?” she questions Jimin once more, her tone laced with urgency.

“In the barn fixing his bike, I’ll get him.” Jimin responds with a smile, swiftly moving past both of you. As he walks away, you can't help but admire the dirt clinging to him—oddly, he looks enticing covered in the grime. Despite his disheveled appearance, with every speck of dirt, there's an inexplicable allure. You ponder on his hands, dirty and rough, a stark contrast to how you saw him last at the party. He limps as he walks away, and you turn to ask your sister about it, but before you haven’t even spoken the words before, Jimin emerges from the barn with Jungkook at his side.

Jungkook strides purposefully, a confident spring in his step. “Back for round two?”

Your eyes widen, feeling like they might bulge out of their sockets, and a dry lump forms in your throat, making it hard to breathe. Desperately gasping for air, you fumble for words, all while witnessing Jessi and Jimin exchanging eye rolls, and Jungkook indulging in a hearty laugh that echoes from the depths of his chest.

“No, thank you,” you sputter, attempting to regain composure while a storm of emotions swirls within.

“You're welcome anytime, babe,” he teases, winking playfully. Jessi swiftly cuts in with a dismissive wave, “Enough of that,” she declares, clearly accustomed to Jungkook's flirtatious antics.

“We're here to discuss the cattle grazing in the north-east paddock. With the grass running thin, it's time to consider relocating them. How about we join forces and move them to one of your paddocks?” She crosses her arms, her business demeanor impressing you; there's an air of determination that makes you wonder if you could learn a thing or two from her.

“Oh, already? They must be hungry,” Jungkook chuckles, his hands smeared with grease and oil as he absentmindedly wipes them on his jeans.

“We're ready to lend a hand whenever you say the word,” Jimin interjects, his straightforward demeanor becoming more apparent with each word.

“I'm aiming for next Friday, sounds good to you?” She directs her question with a warm smile at Jimin, playfully scolding Jungkook with a friendly slap on the shoulder for his playful banter as he keeps making eyes at you.

“Yes, that works for us.” Jimin responds with a smile, though it isn't directed at you, and a sense of unease settles in. Is it regret, perhaps? You entertain the idea of saying something, but the setting doesn't feel right, so you choose to stay silent.

As the true purpose of this trip dawns on you, you can't help but question Jessi's impatience, especially when she's making plans for something scheduled next week. You initially thought it was an urgent matter, leaving you wondering if impatience is a constant trait in her character.

Jessi claps her hands with genuine excitement. “Great, thank you!” With goodbyes exchanged, you both stride back to your horses, mounting up and steering them towards home.

Ara sighs in exasperation, pointing at the feed packages. “You used the wrong one again!” 

One is adorned in green with crisp white text, while the other flaunts a snowy white exterior with vibrant green letters. It shouldn't be this hard, but somehow, it manages to confuse you every time. It’s a white bag with green text! Why do you keep mixing them up?

“I’m so sorry!” Apologies spill from your lips in frustration. This marks the second time, and you scold yourself silently. How could you make the same mistake again? The weight of responsibility hangs heavy; after all, it's not just about feed but the well-being of the cattle. Grateful relief washes over you, realizing that, so far, your blunders haven't harmed the animals.

As she gathers her brown hair into a playful ponytail, she throws a suggestion your way, “How about a trip into town? We're running low on feed, and I could do with some company.”

“Sure!” Your response carries a cheerful tone as you eagerly agree, taking charge of the kitchen cleanup after Ha-rin has whipped up breakfast for the whole crew.

“Perfect, we'll head out once you’re done here.” Her words float in the air as she exits the kitchen, leaving you with the remnants of breakfast to tidy up.

As you complete the cleanup, you step into the crisp outdoors to join Ara. Soo-ah has also gathered with her, forming a trio headed towards the ranch's pick-up truck—a simple white vehicle adorned with the ranch logo. “Bora Ranch?” you muse aloud, the words escaping your lips and drawing the curious gazes of the two girls.

“Yeah, you didn’t know the name of the ranch?” Ara asks you curious.

“Honestly, I've been so immersed in learning the ropes and surviving the ranch life that I overlooked the name. But hey, now I do!” With a decisive shake of your head, you grasp the door handle, swiftly pulling it open to slide into the car. 

“Wasn’t the ranch called Bora when you were a kid?” Soo-ah inquires, turning around in the front seat to catch your response.

“Nope, can't recall what it was called back then, if anything at all,” you chuckle, settling into the car seat.

The engine purrs to life under Soo-ah's control as she expertly maneuvers the car, guiding it through the ranch's vast expanse along the winding dirt road.

The two-hour drive into town becomes a delightful journey of shared stories and laughter, weaving a stronger bond between you, Soo-ah, and Ara. In those moments, you discover the genuine sweetness that resides within both of these girls, making the passage of time feel like a fleeting friendship blossoming on the open road.

As you pull into town, the anticipation builds, and the car finds its spot next to the feedstore. Ara eagerly guides you through the intricacies of the new feed brand, making a vivid presentation to ensure there's no room for confusion between it and the previous one.

As you load the pick-up truck with feed, your gaze wanders across the quaint town. It's remarkably small, dominated by a main road adorned with a handful of establishments — the feedstore, a chic salon, a boutique showcasing fashionable attire, and a charming corner cafe. Amidst these, the bar captures your attention. Its size is impressive, boasting a spacious parking lot, and despite the midday hour, a growing lineup of cars hints at its popularity. However, what truly stands out is a black Ford Ranger, its exterior, though smeared with mud, commanding attention amidst the other vehicles.

Soo-ah and Ara catch your gaze and follow your line of sight, their eyes locking onto his car. A shared look of sympathy reflects in their eyes as they turn to you. Confusion reigns for a brief moment until your eyes lock onto Jungkook, seated outside the bar, his lips murmuring something into the ear of an eager woman. In that instant, reality crashes down on you like a ton of bricks. Their pitiful expressions make sense now—he is, without a doubt, a notorious fuckboy.

A furrow forms on your brow, a moment of fleeting confusion, but then the realization hits—you and Jungkook aren't a thing. A single night together doesn't forge a relationship. You're not staking any claim, nor do you desire to. Yet, buried in the depths, a twinge of discomfort surfaces as you witness him flirt so effortlessly.

Soo-ah's comforting words echo in your ears as her gentle pat on your back serves as a reassurance. 

“Just forget him,” she advises, and you try to let those words act as a soothing balm for the unexpected sting in your chest.

A chuckle escapes your lips, a spontaneous reaction to the absurdity of the situation. The notion of dating him had never crossed your mind, making the surge of unexpected emotions puzzling. “I will,” you affirm, determined to sweep away any lingering thoughts of Jungkook with the winds of laughter.

Ara's voice carries a weight of revelation as she completes her circle around the car, dropping a bombshell about Jungkook's romantic history. “He's never been in a relationship. It's always a quick pickup, a couple of encounters, and that's the end of it,” she discloses, leaving you to digest the surprising insight into Jungkook's love life.

Her revelation lingers in your thoughts, and as you mull it over, a resolution forms in your mind: Jungkook, with his transient affairs, aligns with the rumors. You decide to tread cautiously, steering clear of any emotional entanglements that might lead to a broken heart once more.

“Let's get out of here.” Soo-ah's words cut through the tension, and she pounds on the car to redirect your attention away from the spectacle of Jungkook's seduction. You avert your gaze, feeling a mix of relief and discomfort, and climb back into the car. 

As Soo-ah drives you away from the scene, your mind races at a million miles per hour.

You draw in a deep breath, steeling yourself for the impending conversation. The rhythmic thud of your heart echoes in your ears, and your fingers tremble with nervous anticipation as you traverse the hallway towards Jessi's office. The closed door looms ahead, and you muster the courage to knock, the sound echoing your internal turmoil as you await her response.

“Yes?” 

Her voice resonates with stern irritation, and the meager courage you had gathered begins to wane. Nevertheless, you persist, pushing the door open and stepping into her office. The room is dimly lit, the yellow light flickering ominously. A sense of impending darkness hovers, and you suspect the light bulb may surrender to its fate soon. Papers and clutter cover the desk and floor, creating a chaotic tapestry. Amidst the disorder, a few paintings of landscapes with gazing horses hang on the walls—childlike in their execution. 

You can't help but wonder if Jessi crafted these artistic expressions all those years ago and if, deep down, she still finds solace in the strokes of a paintbrush, much like you do.

Jessi is laser-focused on her laptop, her gaze oscillating between the glowing screen and a stack of papers nearby. It occurs to you that she might be immersed in the daunting task of managing bills, and it strikes you that this might not be the ideal moment to disturb her. Despite this realization, you've already crossed the threshold, determined to make another attempt at securing her signature.

“I was wondering if I could get your signature…” Your sentence hangs in the air, unfinished, as she abruptly turns her head to gaze at you. The movement is so swift, you half expect her to suffer whiplash. An air of anger envelops her expression, and though you can practically predict her response, you stand there, waiting for her to articulate the inevitable refusal.

“No.” The word is a sharp, decisive blade cutting through the air. She meets your gaze with a frustrated expression, sighing as if weary from the mere thought. “Look, I know you want to sell your share. But that’s just not gonna work for me.”

You exhale a frustrated breath, irritation evident in your voice. “Can't we find some middle ground or work out a solution?”

You attempt to plead your case, but she remains steadfast, refusing to entertain your appeals. It doesn't catch you off guard, but the refusal still grates on your nerves. Why can't she just sign the damn paper?

“I've already made it clear. I don't want strangers to buy my ranch,” she declares bluntly, her voice laced with venom. Your anger intensifies as you sense the injustice of the situation. You're not interested in a share of the ranch; you just want the damn money and to move on. Why can't she simply grant you that?

“Can't Soo-ah, Ha-rin, Ara, or you just buy me out?” you vent in frustration, the anger escalating within you. This isn't unfolding as you planned—yet again.

Jessi's laughter cuts through the air, a menacing tone clinging to it. “They don't have the money. And I don't have the money for that either. Don't you think I thought of that already?” she retorts, words spat out like venom, her breath quickening from the tension in the room.

“Can’t you just loan some money from the bank and buy me out?” you plead with her in frustration. She rolls her eyes at your seemingly childish behavior, “This is a ranch. The bank is not going to loan me more money. I'm already in debt there,” she retorts, a hint of exhaustion in her voice.

Your mouth falls open in shock. The intricacies of running a ranch, especially the financial aspects, had never crossed your mind before, but now it hits you that it isn't a cheap endeavor. Exhaling in frustration, you start pacing around in front of her imposing wooden desk.

“It's clear we've reached an impasse,” she declares with venom in her voice, slamming the laptop shut. As she rises from her chair, the veins in her arms become visible, pulsating with the tension in the room.

“You might as well go, because I'm not changing my mind.” She points sternly at the door, and you can feel the anger bubbling inside you, your blood reaching a boiling point.

“Why can’t you be a good sister and let me have this?”” you ask, your anger surfacing as you clench your hands at your sides, teeth biting into your lips, desperately trying to contain words that might lead to regret.

“A good sister?” She spits back in your face, her voice dripping with venom, eyes as cold as ice. “Who the fuck are you to speak about being a good sister!” Her volume rises, accusing finger pointing at you. “I haven’t heard from you in twenty fucking years! And when I invited you to mom’s funeral, you didn’t even reply or get back to me! Some ‘good sister’ you are.” She’s almost panting as she spits rapid fire from her mouth.

You feel the urge to lash out, anger filling you to the brim, but with nowhere for it to go, it erupts as tears streaming down your face. Control slips away the longer you stand here. “I know I didn’t call you or anything. And I’m really sorry about that.” Clenching your hands, you let the tears fall freely.

It doesn’t seem to faze Jessi; she just huffs in annoyance, as if your apology holds no significance for her.

“I had my own stuff to focus on…” You begin to sniffle as you reflect on the events of just a few months ago. The pain still lingers within you, causing a visible tremor to shake through your frame.

“What could be more important than the death of your mother?” She spits back at you, her eyes piercing into the depths of your soul.

“My dad died of cancer!” You yell in her face, tears streaming down, heartbeat thumping with anger. Despite your efforts to dry your tears, it's futile. You retreat from the desk, overwhelmed by memories of your ailing father—frail, immobilized, his eyes devoid of life. It's too much, and you storm out, oblivious to the sadness etched on Jessi's face as you leave.

You dash out of the house, ending up in front of a gate leading to one of the paddocks. The need to clear your head drives you to open the gate, and you start walking, still overcome with sobs. Climbing over the hill, you notice a cluster of trees in the distance. Despite the darkness enveloping the surroundings, their presence is unmistakable.

As you tread the path, the weight of your father's recent death and the distant memories of your mother resurface. The choice between their funerals wasn't made lightly. Yet, in the end, it was clear – your dad, a constant presence throughout the years, deserved your presence more than the woman who had been a stranger for two decades.

Your tears persist, an endless stream down your face. The length of your walk is uncertain, but when you glance back, the ranch appears as a mere speck on the vast horizon, a distant point in a landscape now overshadowed by the weight of your emotions.

You discover a substantial tree log and settle down, planting yourself on it. Alone amidst the expansive embrace of nature, you surrender to the waves of sorrow, allowing the vastness around you to become a silent witness to your emotional unraveling.

For what felt like an eternity, it was only you and your father. The day he took you away from the ranch, from your sister's embrace, it left your heart in shards. Despite numerous inquiries, he kept the reason veiled until the very day he drew his last breath. With a fragile whisper, he beckoned you closer, he shared in hushed tones the painful revelation behind your abrupt departure years ago. He had unearthed the heartbreaking truth that your mother had been unfaithful, a betrayal repeated countless times despite his pleas for fidelity. It was the final, unbearable straw that fractured the fragile bonds holding your family together.

Lost in the vast expanse of time, you eventually lift your gaze, captivated by the celestial display overhead. The stars twinkle in a cosmic dance, their brilliance far removed from the city's suffocating glow. The beauty of the night sky resonates with you, prompting a twinge of sorrow. This rural haven has grown on you, its tranquility a stark departure from the chaos of the city. A sense of foreboding creeps in as the prospect of returning to the city looms, leaving you conflicted and uneasy.

Torn between the serene allure of the countryside and the harsh reality of unresolved issues, you grapple with conflicting emotions. The idyllic surroundings clash with the palpable tension between you and Jessi. Her apparent disdain and refusal to facilitate the sale of your share leave you caught in a tumultuous predicament, akin to being trapped between a rock and a hard place.

The symphony of crickets reverberates in the bushes, and as the chilly air seeps into your bones, a decision crystallizes within you – it's time to reluctantly return to the ranch.

“Get up you fool!” Jessi's voice pierces through your dreams as she yanks the covers off your still-drowsy form. Startled, you jolt upright, rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You mumble through a yawn, not quite fully awakened to handle your sister's early morning energy. Your eyes, still puffy from the tears shed yesterday, bear witness to the emotional turmoil that led you to cry yourself to sleep. You had purposely avoided any conversation with Jessi upon your return, convinced that the words exchanged would only add more weight to the heavy air lingering between you two.

“The cattle are loose!” 

Her urgent cry jolts you awake, prompting a hasty scramble to throw clothes over your drowsy form. “Get up and help!” The command echoes through the house, accompanied by the chaotic symphony of hurried footsteps. The urgency compels you to leap out of bed, hastily pulling on the jeans Jessi tossed your way, followed by a shirt and your sneakers in rapid succession. The echo of multiple footsteps thundering through the house only intensifies the sense of impending chaos.

You dash outside to find a bustling scene in the yard—cattle meandering at a leisurely pace, a few grazing on the lawn, and mischief-makers having ventured into the vegetable garden, creating a lively and chaotic spectacle.

Under Jessi's brisk command, you, along with Soo-ah, Ha-rin, and Ara, embark on the mission to corral the wayward cows and guide them back to the paddock. The endeavor unfolds as a symphony of teamwork, with shouts and laughter echoing through the air. It's an hour of spirited effort before the last stray bovine is safely enclosed within the fence, the collective achievement ringing with a sense of accomplishment.

Jessi forcefully shuts the gate, her exasperated exhale slicing through the tension in the air. “Who left the damn gate open?” 

Her gaze sweeps across the group, sharp and accusatory. The realization hits you like a bolt – yesterday's walk. Anxiety gnaws at you as her eyes narrow, pinpointing your guilt. 

“Fucking useless,” she mutters, striding away with an air of frustration, leaving a lingering sense of failure in her wake.

Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin surround you, their words a comforting chorus dispelling the air of failure. 

“Anyone could have slipped up; it was just a simple mistake,” they assure you, attempting to soothe the lingering tension. With their encouragement, the weight of the mishap eases, replaced by a collective understanding that, in the end, all the cattle were safely corralled back in.

A gnawing sense of inadequacy settles in your chest, a relentless reminder of perceived shortcomings. It's not just about the occasional missteps—whether in riding, feed, or even a simple tire change. Or the way you seem to get on your sister’s nerves everyday. Each incident, a haunting echo of ineptitude, leaves you questioning your worth in this environment. perhaps you're the one who's out of place here, incapable of getting anything right. The thought of returning home starts to linger, a tempting escape from a seemingly never-ending string of blunders.

Despite pouring your feelings of inadequacy to the girls, their reassurances haven't managed to erase the heavy weight on your shoulders. The elusive signature from Jessi seems like a distant dream, and the strained relationship with her intensifies your desire to leave. 

Yet, when the girls invited you to the local town bar before your departure, you agreed. It's a farewell tinged with uncertainty, a bittersweet blend of camaraderie and the looming decision to walk away from the ranch.

As you rummage through the clothes in the guest room, seeking the perfect outfit for the evening, Ha-rin's advice echoes in your mind – nothing too fancy, just a simple shirt and jeans. 

Yet, your hands, tangled in the fabric of uncertainty, grapple with the realization that the perfect shirt is elusive. Did you run out, or is it merely camouflaged within the folds of your wardrobe, playing a coy game of hide-and-seek?

As the realization dawns that your entire collection of shirts is held hostage in the laundry's cleansing embrace, a dilemma unfolds before you. 

The prospect of trudging to the distant cottages to borrow a shirt from the girls seems an arduous task. Instead, a mischievous thought tiptoes into your mind – borrowing a shirt from Jessi. It's just a shirt, a fleeting thought whispers, and she probably wouldn't even notice, right?

Stepping away from the chaos of your disheveled room, you ascend the staircase, guided by the thought of borrowing a shirt from Jessi. With the certainty of her absence, you boldly push open the door to her room, revealing a sanctuary of simplicity. The regal expanse of the king-sized bed commands attention, accompanied by sparse embellishments – a poignant photograph capturing Jessi with your mom and her loyal companion, Cinnamon. A modest dresser stands sentinel next to the door, holding its silent vigil over the room.

With a hesitant curiosity, you breach the privacy of Jessi's dresser, a repository of her sartorial choices. 

Rows of jeans, shirts, and blouses reveal a spectrum dominated by natural and earthy hues – an insight into her affinity for the subtle tones of nature. A twinge of guilt flickers within you, acknowledging the intimacy and impropriety of this clandestine exploration. Despite the internal conflict, your quest for the perfect t-shirt propels you deeper into the folds of her wardrobe.

As your fingers graze the various textures, you're captivated by the softness that beckons your touch. A distinctive fabric captures your attention, and you pull out a grunge-inspired t-shirt—its black canvas adorned with shades of gray, embellished by the iconic AC/DC logo. A chuckle escapes you, a silent agreement with your choice. 

Closing the dresser door behind you, you return to your room, adorned in the rebellious elegance of your discovery, finalizing your look with a touch of light makeup.

You slide into a zip hoodie, a borrowed shield from Jessi's collection, the fabric embracing you in warmth against the crisp night air. Stepping out to the pickup, you find the girls patiently waiting, and even Jessi stands there but she doesn’t spare you a look.

You settle into the car, the engine's hum creating a rhythmic melody as Ha-rin skillfully navigates the night roads. The world outside blurs in shades of darkness, dirt dancing against the windows like fleeting shadows. Ha-rin has cranked up the heat, prompting you to unzip your hoodie.

As the car inches closer to town in the dimness, you feel the proximity of civilization, and just then, Soo-ah interjects, snapping you out of your contemplation, “Who's taking the wheel on our way back?”

A collective gaze circulates among you, and you break the silence, declaring, “I'll take the wheel. I don't plan on indulging much tonight, anyway.” 

As Jessi turns her gaze toward you from the passenger's seat, her eyes lock onto the fabric hugging your frame – a subtle frown etching across her features. “Is that my shirt?” she questions, the tone a blend of curiosity and a hint of something else.

“Yeah, is it okay—,” you begin, but she cuts you off with a scoff. “Take it off,” she demands, leaving you staring at her in disbelief. Surely, she can't be serious!

“All my shirts are in the laundry. I hoped it was okay…” you mope, a pout forming on your face as you cross your arms. The prospect of having to take it off leaves you in a momentary dilemma.

“Well, you didn't ask if you could wear it. So, take. It. Off. Now,” she punctuates sternly, leaving you gaping in disbelief.

“What am I going to wear at the bar then?” you question her with genuine worry. “I can't walk in there without anything on, for heaven's sake!”

“You're wearing a bra, right?” She asks, matter-of-factly, and you nod in confirmation.

“Then you're fine. You won't be the first to walk around in a bra in that place.” Your mouth falls open. You can't believe what you're hearing, and the realization that you're about to walk around there half-naked sinks in.

“I won't take it off,” you huff, crossing your arms tighter around your body, defiance etched across your face.

“If you don't take it off yourself, I'll pull it off you when we arrive,” she threatens, her tone stern and ominous. A nervous trickle of sweat trails down your back; you know your sister well enough now to recognize the determination in her voice. If you don't shed the garment now, she'll simply rip it off you, and with a bigger audience, no less.

“No thank you.” With a sigh, you peel the hoodie off, followed by the t-shirt, leaving you momentarily exposed. Just as you're about to tug the hoodie back over your torso, relishing the thought of having at least that to cover yourself, Jessi interrupts with a deadpan stare.

“That’s my hoodie too, isn’t it?” Her voice, stern and eyes shooting daggers at your skin, catches you off guard. Damn, she noticed that too. It seems you can’t get anything past her watchful gaze.

Reluctantly, you surrender both the t-shirt and the hoodie. A frown etches itself across your face. Here you are, left with nothing on your upper body except for a simple blue bra.

Gratitude tinges her voice as she accepts the returned clothing with a simple, “Thank you.”

You wear a pouty expression, sulking in silence, as the rest of the car bursts into laughter at the spectacle of your misfortune.

As Ha-rin effortlessly maneuvers the car into the bar's parking lot, you all disembark, greeted by a chilly breeze that sends shivers down your spine. Eagerly, you rush toward the entrance, craving the warmth that lies within.

Soo-ah swings open the door, ushering everyone into the bar, and immediately, the inviting warmth envelops your skin. The crowded room turns heads, eyes fixating on your unconventional attire. Whistles from a few men pierce the air, including Jungkook, causing a tinge of discomfort, but with determination, you forge ahead, blending into the lively atmosphere with your group.

Jessi guides you to a table occupied by the Park brothers and two other captivating men. The allure emanating from the group leaves you wondering – why does everyone here seem irresistibly attractive?

Jungkook whistles once more, his laughter echoing through the bar. “Did you lose a bet or something?” he teases, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You roll your eyes, unfazed by Jungkook's comment, though you catch Jimin stealing a glance at your breasts. The attention makes you feel exposed, but with a hiss, you stride forward, the amused chuckles from the other girls trailing behind you. Soo-ah takes charge, heading to the bar to order drinks and offering a brief respite from the sea of eyes fixated on you.

“Well. Someone doesn’t share clothes. Apparently.” You remark with a hint of spite, directing your gaze at Jessi. She remains unfazed, nonchalantly pulling out a chair beside one of the unfamiliar men. The air thickens with tension, your words hanging in the atmosphere like a challenge.

You settle into the chair, and Soo-ah returns with a round of beers for everyone. Then, a realization dawns on her. “You haven't met Hoseok and Yoongi, have you?” she says, a spark of excitement in her eyes as she introduces you to the two unfamiliar faces at the table.

As you shake your head, laughter escaping your lips, Yoongi and Hoseok extend their hands in a friendly greeting. Introducing themselves as the reliable stable hands for Jungkook and Jimin, their warm smiles put you at ease in the lively atmosphere of the bar.

Yoongi, with his silver hair, wears an expression that hints at a perpetual lack of sleep, his tired eyes meeting yours. Clad in a simple black shirt, he offers a gentle smile while nursing his beer. On the other hand, Hoseok radiates energy, his bright smile beaming at you. His soft brown hair frames his face, falling effortlessly as he strategically averts his gaze from your bra.

You seize the beer Soo-ah passes you, savoring the first sip as the effervescent bubbles dance on your tongue. It's your one indulgence, a calculated choice, knowing you'll be the designated driver on the way back.

Hoseok's infectious chuckle accompanies his question, “How do you find ranch life?” You hesitate, torn between the weight of your struggles and the desire to keep the atmosphere light.

Opting for the lighter choice, you respond with a smile, “It’s exciting.”

But even as the words leave your lips, you recognize the mask in your tone. Hoseok, however, doesn't press for more information; he simply smiles back at you, leaving the unspoken conversation hanging in the air.

You catch Jimin staring at you again, and a subtle shiver of uneasiness trails down your spine. The intensity in his gaze leaves you questioning: Why does he keep fixating on you like that?

“Aren’t you cold?” A sudden chill envelops the air as Jimin turns his attention to you, his question hanging in the quiet intensity of the moment. Uncertain why, a shiver dances down your spine as his eyes lock onto yours. You bite your lip, offering a nonchalant shrug in response.

With a confident grin, Jungkook peels his shirt off, instantly attracting glances from a few ladies at a nearby table. “Here. You can have my shirt,” he declares, flexing his muscles proudly. Eye rolls ensue, both from Jimin and the rest of the table. Nevertheless, you accept the offered shirt with gratitude, navigating the amusing spectacle with a polite thank you.

You slip into Jungkook's shirt, instantly feeling a wave of comfort and security wash over you. It smells musky, like him.

Grinning, Yoongi playfully smacks Jungkook's chiseled chest, remarking, “Well, look who's playing the gentleman.” 

Nonchalantly, Jungkook quips, “Easier to pick up the ladies like this, anyway,” as his laughter echoes through the bar. While he scans the crowd for his next conquest, you remain indifferent, content just to have a shirt on.

Jungkook's attention quickly shifts as he spots an intriguing woman across the bar, prompting him to rise from the table and saunter over to her, leaving your group behind.

While Yoongi and Hoseok engage in conversation with Soo-ah and Ha-rin about a plan to play pool, they eventually depart, leaving you, Ara, Jimin, and Jessi to hold down the fort at the table.

Her eyes plead with you as she asks, “Is it okay if I head up to the bar? I spotted some of my friends there. I know we were supposed to have fun together, but…” The appeal is directed more towards you than Jessi, and you nod in understanding. The rest of your group has already scattered, so you don't mind her branching out.

Jessi takes a deliberate sip of her beer, her eyes scanning the crowded bar. “Actually, I see someone I need to talk to too.” With a firm grip on her beer, she strides away, leaving you alone with Jimin amidst the lively atmosphere of the bar.

You offer him a tentative smile, uncertainty flickering in your eyes. In response, he mirrors the gesture, raising his beer to his lips with a hint of intrigue.

The atmosphere feels tense, and it hits you that you haven't had a proper conversation with him since the incident at the barn party. Unsettled by the lingering tension, you take the initiative to break the ice. Nervously turning the beer between your fingers, you offer, “I'm sorry if I did something wrong.”

Jimin's eyes meet yours, a gentle intensity in his gaze, and he nods, encouraging you to continue.

In a hushed tone, you admit, “I'm sorry I slept with you brother…” His reaction is immediate, a visible flinch, and suddenly the pieces of the tension between you fall into place.

“Why apologize for that?” he questions, sipping his beer with a curious glint in his eyes.

“It just seems like you're angry with me... or something,” 

He observes, his eyes penetrating yours. You look away, unable to meet the intensity in those brown orbs that seem to be searching for something, and you're not sure if you're ready to confront whatever it is.

“Look,” he starts, leaning over the table, “I'm not really angry. Maybe I'm disappointed?” It's unclear if it's a question or a statement, but you choose to lean in, meeting his bold gaze head-on.

“You are, of course, allowed to sleep with whoever you want to. It's just... it's always him.” The words sound gritty, leaving his mouth with a hint of anger. Not directed at you, though. There's a sibling rivalry in his voice, a trace of jealousy that you can't ignore.

A realization hits you like a lightning bolt – is he jealous? Jealous of his own brother?

“All women are drawn to him. He's always fucking around. Not that I'm saying I want to be like that, but sometimes, it would be nice to feel noticed, you know?” His eyes carry a touch of sadness, and you offer him a sympathetic smile. It's evident this bothers him, and you're at a loss for words to comfort him.

As you wonder why he doesn't feel noticed—after all, the man is undeniably attractive—your comforting words hover on the tip of your tongue. Just as you're about to speak, he lets out a deep exhale, as if releasing pent-up emotions.

“You know… When I saw you that day in the kitchen after all those years,” He begins to say as he leans back into the chair, absently scratches his head, a gesture that hints at a blend of frustration and contemplation.

An awkward chuckle escapes him, his upper body swaying with a mix of nerves and genuine amusement. “I never thought I would see you again when you and your father left,” he admits, his laughter carrying the weight of unexpected reunions.

He fidgets with his beer, a bashful admission lingering in the air. “Did you know,” he confesses, “I had a crush on you when we were kids?” A nervous gulp follows, as if drowning the remnants of an old, unspoken secret.

The revelation hits you like a sudden storm. You had no idea. Is this the underlying reason for his jealousy?

You gaze at him with a soft intensity, a hint of nervousness in your own eyes. “I had no idea,” you confess, unraveling another layer of the complex emotions between you.

“I'm truly sorry,” you utter once more, the sincerity echoing in your voice. The unexpected entanglement with his brother wasn't part of any plan, and you hadn't anticipated him witnessing the intimate moment.

“It's fine,” he chuckles, though the sincerity in his tone remains uncertain. The curiosity nags at you, urging you to delve deeper into the past: Does he still harbor that childhood crush?

“Do you want another beer?” he queries, noting the emptiness of his bottle. You decline with a shake of your head, stating, “No, thank you. I'm the designated driver.” He comprehends, lifting himself from the chair to make his way to the bar. Returning with a fresh beer, he resettles in front of you.

“So, what's your honest take on this place?” he inquires with a chuckle, clearly aware that your response to Hoseok's previous question may not have been entirely truthful.

You release a sigh of frustration, sinking back into the chair. “It's tough. I seem to get on Jessi's nerves constantly, and I manage to mess up everything,” you admit, earning a chuckle from him at your candidness.

“Years have passed since you were last here. Getting back into the groove will take time, and she should understand that,” he remarks, sipping his beer. His gaze softens, and you find reassurance in his words. Talking to him feels comforting, and the strange tension that lingered before has dissipated.

Inhaling deeply, you confess, “I've been considering heading back home. It just feels like I mess everything up…”

Jimin dismisses your thoughts with a fervent shake of his head, “No, no, you shouldn't give up. Please, give it some more time.”

A contemplative smile tugs at your lips as you ponder Jimin's words, uncertain whether to heed his advice and give it more time. You're caught in the crossroads of uncertainty, lacking a solid reason to stay, yet finding a growing appreciation for the vast open spaces and the embrace of nature that surrounds you on the ranch.

A nostalgic warmth envelops the conversation as Jimin recalls a shared childhood memory. “Do you remember when we were kids and Jessi took your favorite bunny and hid it?” His laughter echoes through the reminiscence, and a vivid image of the past floods back to you. 

“Yeah! You helped me find it,” you respond, a genuine smile playing on your lips. The memory resurfaces, the two of you embarking on a bunny-rescue mission for hours, Jessi withholding the secret of its hiding place. A chuckle escapes you as the camaraderie of that moment echoes in the present.

“Jessi was so mean,” you chuckle, a playful glint in your eyes, “still is,” you add, the laughter intensifying as the enduring nature of her mischief becomes a source of amusement.

Engaging in conversation with Jimin feels remarkably effortless. The dialogue unfolds organically, and you find yourself wondering why you hesitated to talk to him sooner. It seems foolish now, realizing there was no need to be afraid of facing him.

“That she is.” He joins in the laughter, and you catch a glimpse of his slightly crooked teeth. 

As you take a moment to study him again, really taking him in this time, you notice the fullness of his lips, the endearing crinkle of his eyes when he laughs, and the way he uses his hands to cover his laughter. He looks good—no, more than that, he's attractive. His sweetness, reminiscent of the kid you remember from years ago, now magnified in the man before you. Doubt creeps in, and you begin to wonder if sleeping with Jungkook was a colossal mistake.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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[yaekiss]

#MailroomOpen! hi hi my darling qi this is the promised letter to my Special Little Guy!! letter delivery for yandere tartaglia with a nsfw reply back and also a meme reference for number 25 if it's alright? pet names are a-ok, encouraged even. ok here goes, thank you so much for doing this!!! i am cringe but i am free ♡

(The letter that arrives is black with gold borders and purple ink, with a purple lipstick kiss mark on the back of it. There are doodles of stars, moons, skulls, and hearts in the margins. The penmanship is neat and playful, every i and j dotted with either stars or hearts, depending on the subject matter. A small box of the same color as the letter comes with it, inside is an ocean-blue collar with a tag that says "My Ajax". It looks expensive.)

My lovely Ajax,

It's only been a few weeks since you left, but in my opinion, any time away from you is too long. I miss your presence, your conversation, your cooking, and some more...intimate things. I'm sure you feel the same. I really wish you didn't have to leave so often, sometimes I think you might care for your Tsaritsa more than me~ Hehe, I'm only joking, of course. I know you're very loyal, and love me very much... (There's a furious scribble over the next words, but you can just barely make out that it says "maybe more than you should") Anyway, moving on, this letter should arrive with a collar. I picked them out special just for you; blue like your eyes! There's a matching leash, but I kept it with me so we can use it when you get back, hehe ♡. Make sure to show me how pretty you look with it on, okay puppy~? ...And come back safe. I'll be patiently awaiting your return, hopefully soon.

~Your darling

꩜ Letter Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Tartaglia, no gendered terms for reader, Tartaglia calls you "dearest exalted", mentions of blood, unhealthy and obsessive relationship from Tartaglia, worshipping (reader receiving), collar and leash (used on Tartaglia), masochistic Tartaglia, mentions of mirror sex, Tartaglia calls himself puppy once, lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ Delivery Notes: Weird, as soon as he handed his parcel to me, he started booking it to your address, like damn it's not a race?! ꩜ Wanna write a love letter yourself? Check out it out here!

A medium-sized parcel finds its way into your possession, placed in front of your doorstep. The box is made of smooth varnished timber and the intricate details are inlaid with gems and shards that match the stunning shade of your eyes. Judging by all the elaborate carvings and the overall quality of the trunk, it must have cost him a pretty penny, especially if it was commissioned just for you. 

Flipping the lid of the box open at its hinge, your eyes are greeted by the sight of the sheer amount of items he sent to you. Ajax is nothing but a generous lover and it's definitely evident with all the gifts he prepared for you this time. Starting out, there are a few neatly packed food containers imbued with a charm that helped to preserve their contents perfectly over the lengthy delivery trip. Each one is labelled with the name of the dish it holds and after looking through the various containers, you realise they’re all your favourite dishes, lovingly made from scratch by Ajax.

To a side, there’s a hefty drawstring pouch. Tugging the bag open, a large pile of mora shimmers back at you. You should’ve known he would spoil you like this even if he were away. Tucked underneath the bag of mora, is his letter.

The envelope is a version of the one typically used for fatui matters, except this one is a lot gaudier than usual. …It’s the kind used for letters addressed exclusively to Her Royal Highness, the Tsaritsa. Just the look of it is expensive: A frosted gold border lines the front of the envelope and his wax stamp seals the letter shut at the back, away from prying eyes. Surely using an envelope reserved for the Tsaritsa for you is more than a bit… blasphemous. Nonetheless, you try not to think too much about it and gingerly open the letter up to read his reply.

His handwriting is scrawling and slightly messy as always but you know that it’s just from the eagerness that he seems to constantly have while around you, like some sort of oversized puppy. Present is a tangible tenderness in all his words and you can just about picture the silly little smile he had on his face while he wrote this letter to you. Additionally, there are hearts blotchily drawn in a rusty red around in the margins to match your love letter sent to him. His response reads:

“To my highest divinity, my owner,

It’s so so so good to hear from you, dearest exalted! Ah, I can’t believe you’d miss me, I’m swooning, at least now I know I’m not the only one left longing. I saw you mention that you missed my cooking so to remedy that, I prepared some of your favourite dishes, I didn’t quite know which one would be the best to send to you, so I just sent all of them, haha. Please let me know if they’re to your liking, dearest exalted. Regarding missing my presence… there’s only 1 solution for that which you’ll see soon enough!

I saw your scribbled-out words. ‘Maybe more than you should.’ My reverence for you must not be enough, and that’s why you still doubt me, doubt my love for you, right, dearest exalted? Although the Tsaritsa may be important to me, however, even the loyalty I have for her cannot hold a candle to the utmost adoration that I have for you. Far, far, far from it. What you see right now is but a mere glimpse of my endless devotion and love for you, dearest exalted. There is so much more that I would do for you. Just say the word, that’s all you’ll ever need to do, and I’ll carry out any of your orders till the end of my days. Even in death, I’d still be yours to command. Beyond the grave, that’s how much you deserved to be loved, dearest exalted. (His paragraph drips with festering lovesickness in the way the ink looks to be redder than the one in his inkwell.)

Ahem, moving on! Thank you for the collar, it sits wonderfully around my neck and fits like a glove. Really brings out my eyes too, was that intentional? And the tag… oh, the tag. I must confess, I’ve imagined what it would be like, to have you attach the leash to it and tug me in front of the mirror, making me watch through the reflection as you have your way with me. I would let out all the sounds you said you liked hearing from me, my moans or whines or screams, I’d give you anything you want. You could be as rough as you’d like to too, pulling harshly on the leash as you take your frustrations out on me, you know I love whatever you grace me with, dearest exalted.

I’ll end my letter here, my remaining words can be relayed when I’m back soonest, I promise! Remember to tell me if anyone has wronged you, I’ll gladly rid you of them, dearest exalted. Can’t wait to be under you again! 

Your most devoted puppy,

- Your Ajax -”

That’s certainly… a reply worthy of your contemplation, to say the least. Inserting his reply back into the envelope, you wonder what else he could’ve left unsaid in a letter that’s already chock full of the rawest form of veneration towards you. Sitting in pensive silence, your mind reels. Fortunately for you (or perhaps it’s the contrary), your answer arrives frighteningly fast, disrupting the stillness. 

There’s a knock at your door, a familiar keening whine bleeding through the wood.

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

[tranakin-skywalker]

Fuck it, fic rec list time!

I'm bored and can't sleep so here's a non-exhaustive list of some of my favorite Star Wars fics. I'm leaving the really well known ones off, wanna share some of the more obscure gems.

Not Placid Stars But Singularities by iceplanet

He stands before Sidious, head bowed, helmet pinching at the back of his neck where he hasn’t yet gotten the med droid to file down the sharp edges. Sharpness is another fact of life, now: the feel of metal digging into flesh defines his every motion. Given the time and the opportunity, he himself could probably have built prosthetics better than the ones he currently wears. “Your task, Lord Vader,” Sidious is saying, “is to transform this heap of antiquated softness into a palace worthy of our new Empire.” In the weeks after Mustafar, Vader must come to terms with his new body and the remnants of his past. In the process, he has a few conversations that he does not expect.

This one has everything I love: ghosts, mutilation, Vader being the saddest wettest murder meow meow, Sith Lord batshittery. What fun.

Skin Graft by HENST33TH

“ I hurt you.” killed her, Vader's stomach roiled. Bile clawed at his throat as he looked at her. He wasn't making any sense. Her face softened some. “ Dreams…?” she said. Padme thought she understood. It was sick, it was corrosive. He was unfaithful. For twenty years he was unfaithful. He hurt her children. He needed to spit it out. Explain. She deserves it. She needs to know. Vader needed to crack himself open. Padme needed to tear him apart. For her safety. He got out of bed. Twitching with the need. Shaking with the pressure inside of him. Taught like a noose. He stood before her. She placed her hands on his arms. “Then what, Anakin.” Anakin, Anakin, Anakin. Vader sank to his knees. Resting his head against her middle, he breathed. The shame clung to him and coated his throat till he was choking on it. “It’s so much worse than that.” all at once the future loomed over him. Daunting, a beast of its own. How can he explain it? *** Or, Anakin Skywalker gets thrown back in time. He has to learn: 1 how to have a body again 2. To curb his Raging insecure attachment style. 3. That his wife should be the one making the important galactic decisions.

A newer fic that I am quickly becoming obsessed with. The way it's written is perfect. The characterization is perfect. Everything about it is perfect imo. And the ending of this latest chapter. Masterpiece. I want 10 more.

Nameless, On the Edge of Nowhere by Taxonamie

Following the presumed death of the evil Emperor and his hulking henchman Darth Vader, the fledging Alliance stands on the verge of victory! But as they press their advantage against a destabilized Empire and manifest from the seeds of Rebel resistance, can this new government survive their own instability? Among the scattered Imperial forces of the second Death Star, Darth Vader's disapparence is not so final as they would hope. Worse yet, the Rebel Hero Luke Skywalker has gone missing! Alone and disadvantaged, what will Anakin Skywalker do to find his son? Will he walk the razor's edge of tentative alliance with the Rebel Forces, or succumb to the draw of Imperial power? Free from all Masters, can Anakin Skywalker learn who he wants to be, at last? Princess Leia Organa must navigate this minefield of clashing obligations and dripping grudges, all the while attempting to understand a heritage she hates, a brother she loves, and a mysterious mother she cannot understand.

I think this fic is the most successful at bridging the gap between Prequel Anakin and OT Vader that I have ever read. They genuinely feel like a continuation of the same character here rather than a disjointed Before and After.

trust displays by AshToSilver

Rex meets Luke and Leia for the very first time the night they are born.

I love how sweet but also horrifically fucked up this one is. Cannot express how much this fic has influences the way I write the clones.

in morsum ardeo by astarsdarkheart

A fallen Jedi and Lord of the Sith burns in a pyre on the banks of a river of fire. Something else rises from the ashes.

This series rewired my brain. Like, holy shit. Holy shit. I don't think I could ever actually choose a top favorite fic of all time, but honestly? This one makes a strong case for itself. It has haunted me every day since I first read it over a year ago.

Forever War by yujacheong

Vader has trouble distinguishing between the past and the present. Fortunately, it rarely matters in the context of the Empire's forever war.

Love me a good Vader character study.

this place loves what it eats by roadtripexpert

What could be called but isn’t death, or Leia Organa doesn't kill the man formerly known as Anakin Skywalker

I know I've already recommended this one but it is just. So fucking good. The note from my bookmark: Father-daughter roadtrip results in about as much murder and bitching as you would expect.

relieved to live in the wreckage by niniblack

When Obi-wan doesn’t follow Padmé to Mustafar, she’s able to convince Anakin to run away from everything with her. But this doesn't prevent his nightmares from coming true, and he's left alone in a hostile galaxy with the infants she begged him to protect. “Master Anakin,” Threepio says, still hovering in the doorway. “Might I suggest bouncing the children?” Anakin stops pacing around with the twins, head swiveling to look at Threepio. He doesn’t have to ask what the fuck Threepio is talking about; Artoo does it for him. Threepio seems to draw himself up as straight as he can. “I have conducted extensive research on the subject of human childrearing in anticipation of Mistress Padmé giving birth. Holding an infant and gently bouncing them in the parent’s arms is thought to be an excellent calming method.” “Oh,” Anakin says. “I thought you meant… bouncing them on the floor or something.”

The note from my bookmark: Single dad Anakin. Congratulations buddy, no one's ever done it worse.

Send the Whole Damned Thing Down the Drain by handstitchedanarchist

“Are you a conscripted soldier or a battle slave?” General Skywalker asks him one day. Rex thinks about it. And then thinks about it a little longer. And then he has to admit, “I’m not sure what the difference is.” The general looks distant and… sad? “Yeah, me neither,” he says.

This is another one that has greatly influenced the way I write the clones.

Gonna end the list here cuz my meds are starting to kick in and I feel like I'm going to fall over

[mbakuetshurisprincess]

Anything But Love Part 2

AN: Hello my loves! First, I’m gonna apologize for disrespecting the sanctity of democracy, I hope you all can forgive me maybe. Love for Duties Sake Part 5 is still 150% coming, I’m just trying to be a good person, and A. Not make it a book. And B. Actually give them some peace for once in their lives (spoiler alert it’s not going well)  SO yeah here's this gem of a story while I work on that, Shuri is once again a brat but maybe just maybe she doesn't actually mean to be a brat? Idk crazy idea. Y’all asked for Y/N to have a little bit of bite to her, I hope I did that lol. Blame two of your favorites on here for this coming out this morning instead of last night-

As always this is dedicated to the lovely @pinkwright, I simply exist to write fake dating for them.

Summary: Being the head of PR for the Udaku family came with its challenges. But staying on top of public perception and answering to elders paled in comparison to your most formidable challenge, dealing with the princess.

Pairing: Shuri x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cussing, like BREIF mentions of sexual elements. that’s it I think.

Word count: 4,658

Masterlist.  Taglist.  Part 1.

Suggested listening: Bitches Broken Hearts - Billie Ellish 

“You can pretend you don't miss me (me) You can pretend you don't care All you wanna do is kiss me (me) Oh, what a shame I'm not there.”

“And again! One, two, three, four dip! One, two, three, four, turn!”

The feeling of Shuri’s foot coming down on yours had you pulling your hand from hers, a loud “Ow!” spewing from your lips. 

“I wouldn’t have stepped on your foot if you had it in the right place.” Shuri looked down at you smugly as you rubbed your foot. 

“Well maybe if you hadn’t skipped the first step, I wouldn’t be confused as to where we were at.” You glared up at her, wanting nothing more than to shoot up from your position on the floor and wipe that smug look off her face.

“Are you two really not over your issues, seriously? Mama gave you both a week, I thought you would have settled this by now.” T’Challa’s voice, while slightly annoying at this exact moment, was still right. 

Queen Ramonda had given both you and Shuri a week to come to some sort of acceptance of the deal you both agreed to. Banning Shuri from entering her lab and you from your office, she hoped the time away from work would give you both some clarity about the situation, leading to you putting your childish bickering to the side and finally working together again.

While this all sounded good on paper, the time away from your safe spaces seemed to leave the two of you more irritable than before. Shuri’s attitude is on full display and your patience running dangerously low. Luckily, once she noticed this the Queen called in the one favor she had left, hoping maybe she could talk sense into the two of you before it was too late. But until she showed up under the Queen’s strict orders T’Challa was to teach you and Shuri the waltz. 

“The only issue I have is that she cannot follow directions! I am supposed to be leading her in this dance yet every move she makes is contradictory to the one I have made. I step left, and she goes right. I take two steps forward, and she takes two backward. How am I to lead someone as stubborn as Y/N?” Shuri folded her arms over her chest, no longer giving you the satisfaction of looking in your direction once she finished her array of insults. Classy. 

You rose from where you had been sitting checking your foot. Where Shuri may have beaten you in height, you had her in pure intimidation. Shuri was all bark and no bite and the minute you really mouthed off back to her, she faltered. “Maybe if I had a good leader, someone who I trust to lead, maybe then I’d have no problem following them. But when she can’t even remember the order of simple steps to a waltz, how am I supposed to want to follow her mkhuluwe? (brother)” 

T’Challa tried to answer and de-escalate the situation but his sister's fiery attitude stopped him. 

“I find your continual suggesting that I am an unfit leader to be disrespectful Y/N.” Shuri took a step closer to you, looking down at you through the curls that had fallen into her face. “Some would even say what you’re suggesting is treason. Are you committing treason against the Princess?” The tone in her voice was cocky, like a cat playing with her food. What you said was not treason, you knew it, she knew it, T’Challa knew it, and everyone else in the room knew it. But still, she chose to pull rank on you, a subtle reminder that you two were not acting off of an even playing field. Another low blow. 

“You know I almost wish what I said was treason worthy Shuri, I’d gladly take whatever punishment that brings over having to continue this charade with you.” You chuckled softly. “Fifty years of solitary confinement, I think I’ll take my chances.” 

The young Princess’s fists balled and the next smart remark was just about to leave her lips when another voice cut in. One that wasn’t yours, hers, or T’Challa’s. 

“Bast! You both still fight like children!” You and Shuri both whipped around to see Nakia leaning up against the ballroom wall behind you. The sight of her had your feet moving faster than your brain could process, leading you right into Nakia’s arms. She let out a groan when your body connected with hers, squeezing you tightly. “Well hello to you too, usisi omncinci (little sister).” 

“I didn’t know you’d be here so early.” You still hadn’t removed yourself from Nakia’s body as you spoke. 

“Well, clearly she is,” Shuri’s slick remark rang out before Nakia could speak. “Now move, you’re not the only one who has missed her.” 

With reluctance, you peeled your body off of Nakia’s to allow Shuri to hug her. As you watched the two embrace you were brought back to your childhood, Nakia’s family being the other one that you lived with when you weren't in the palace. She had taught you everything you knew about being an adult and your eagerness at her return was no different now than it was when you were younger. 

When Shuri finally finished she stepped back next to you, leaving T’Challa as the only one who hadn’t greeted Nakia yet. 

“Hi.” He said sheepishly as he stepped up into his girlfriend's space. Nakia smiled fondly at him, holding her hands out for T’Challa to take. 

“Hi.”

“You did not tell me you were coming back.” T’Challa’s hands rubbed idly at Nakia’s knuckles, memorizing the feeling of her skin under his. These moments between the two of them were rare, Nakia busy with her war dog duties and T’Challa with his kingly responsibilities. 

“Mm, I wasn’t supposed to be back this early but, Queen Mother called.” Nakia took her hand and cupped T’Challa’s cheek, rubbing gently on his soft skin before placing a sweet kiss on his lips. “And, I missed you mtuwam (my person).”  

The sight of the two lovers made you smile and that same smile stayed on your face as you backed away to give them some privacy. Of course however when in the presence of the Princess such a smile can only last for so long. The sight of her staring at you in disgust had you rolling your eyes at her. “What is your problem? Is your heart so cold that you can’t appreciate a couple in love?” 

Shuri let out a dry laugh. “No, I adore my brother and Nakia, she makes him significantly less lame. It is your reaction that I don’t believe.” 

“What? I am a lover of love. A certified lover girl like Drake said. Especially true love like that.” 

“Mhm if that’s what you need to tell yourself to sleep at night, but that’s not what I have heard.” Shuri dismissed herself from the ballroom, seeing no need to continue the dance lesson now that T’Challa was occupied.

You followed hot on her trail, what the hell had she “heard” about you that could make her of the opinion that you weren't a lover of love. It was blasphemy honestly, defamation of character. 

“Shuri!” You grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop in her tracks. She tried to pull out of your grasp, expecting to overpower you easily. What she didn’t account for though was your newfound muscle from training with Ayo, rendering her attempts unsuccessful. 

“Let me go.” She still hadn’t turned to face you, to you this seemed like disrespect, another time Shuri couldn’t even give you the decency to look at you. But internally, Shuri’s heart was beating a mile a minute. She hadn’t even realized how much she missed the feeling of you touching her skin. Holding hands to dance was one thing but the way you held tightly onto her now felt like a security blanket, holding her down to earth. 

“What are you talking about? What did you hear?” 

Shuri tried to pull her arm again to no avail, taking a deep breath, she turned and faced you. “When I tell you, you’ll remove your grabby hands from my wrist, yes?” 

You roll your eyes at her use of the word grabby, this was a tactic you two would use often as kids and she never had a problem with it then. “Yes, if you tell me what you’re talking about, I’ll let you go.” 

The Princess looked you up and down as she debated how to spill this information. “All I’m saying is I find it hard to believe that you are a lover girl when you so clearly have shown that you’re the opposite.” 

That got you to loosen your hold on Shuri’s wrist just enough for her to pull away, her heart finally steadying. But to your surprise, she didn’t leave, rather staying and standing in front of you almost waiting for your questions. 

“Explain what you’re talking about right now!” You demanded, your voice cracking slightly under your urgency.

“Adah.” That name was all Shuri gave you as you two stood staring at each other. “Oh don’t play dumb now, you two have been doing this thing since we were teenagers.” 

You gritted your teeth, for a second time today, an Udaku child was right about something. Adah was a year younger than you and Shuri, her grandparents sat on the council so she was frequently in the palace growing up. Shuri never cared too much for Adah, saying that she was too whiny and took up too much of your time. This dislike only increased when you and Adah started casually dating as teenagers. 

While you put the emphasis on casualness, Adah could never do the same; always trying to cling to your side and attach herself to your and Shuri’s plans. This only led to the Princess feeling more confident in her ability to voice her disdain for the young girl, consistently pointing out her shortcomings. When you finally did end things with Adah, she still seemed to pine after you, even going as far as to join the Dora Milaje to maintain proximity. 

“Adah is just a friend Shuri, the same as she was back then.” This earned you a laugh from the Princess. 

“Oh I’m sure she’s just a friend to you, but she doesn't see you the same way and she makes it abundantly clear.” Shuri looked you up and down. “And you don’t seem to have a problem with that, do you?” 

You chose to ignore the second part of Shuri’s statement, instead attacking the first part. “Why does it matter who I’m friends with Shuri?” 

She scoffed at you and attempted to walk away, done with this conversation. But you had grown tired of things always ending on her word, by her command. So you stepped in front of her, blocking her path with your body. When she stepped in another direction you followed suit, leaving her nowhere to go. “Why does it matter who I’m friends with?” 

“Get out of my way.”

“Answer my question.” 

The Princess was left with a decision, attempt to worm her way around you, success rate: twenty-five percent, or answer your question. Reluctantly she chose the ladder. 

“I do not care who you’re friends with Y/N. Truly, I don’t.” She used the closeness of your bodies that you had created to her advantage, leaning over you. “But Adah, she’s not just a friend, is she? Because I remember what it was like to be your friend and I don’t recall it involving sneaking out of your bedroom at three AM every other night.” 

Fuck. 

Your eyes widened at her words and your breath caught in your chest. How did she know about that? Those were isolated incidents. The few times when you had permitted Adah into your bedroom late at night it was just long enough to make you feel something again, before swiftly kicking her out. 

“Oh don’t get quiet on me now Y/N, where's all that energy you just had?” Shuri teased you, cocking her head to the side with a chuckle.

Two options played out in your head at that moment. The first was to stick to what you knew worked with Shuri, logic, and reason. Walk away from the conversation and wait until you were both cooler-headed. The second option was to really give it to Shuri, and remind her why your attitude was just as feared as hers, with the hopes that she’d step off afterward. Two shit options but beggars can’t be choosers. 

“You know what Shuri, first off fuck you. We’re not friends, right? So, who I decide to spend my time with is none of your business.” Your words had Shuri straightening up, no longer towering over you. 

“Second, fuck you again. You ended this, you didn’t wanna be my friend anymore, so yeah maybe I decided to be friends with Adah again. But guess who no longer gets an opinion on it? You.” You had effectively backed the Princess into a wall, her having nowhere to go but to press her back up against it and wait for you to finish. 

“Third and finally fuck you. Fuck your bullshit ass entitled attitude that pushes everyone away that tries to help you. Fuck your inability to not be an asshole for once in your life. Fuck you for not even being able to be a decent non-friend to me Shuri. I mean shit, we didn’t have to be best friends but you don’t have to be such a dick.” 

By the time you finished speaking, you realized you had said way more than you’d originally intended to. Letting some of the anger that you’d held onto from your adolescence spew out on the princess now. You two stared at each other for a moment, not sure what to say after your honest words.

Shuri tried to speak but you stopped her with a raise of your hand. There was nothing left to say here. Backing away from the Princess you ignored her calls and made your way away from her as quickly as you could. 

Once you were clear out of sight Shuri sunk down to the floor, burying her head in her knees. How did she keep doing this? Insulting and pushing you away when all she wanted to do was recreate the relationship you guys used to have. But how could she when clearly she had hurt you so badly? 

Two shadows appeared over Shuri and she looked up to see Nakia and T’Challa, locked arm and arm, staring down at her. The last thing she wanted right now was some lecture from her brother. “What do you want?” 

“We heard everything.” T’Challa rocked on his heels slightly, his nervousness apparent. He wasn’t sure how to go about a situation like this. Being king, that was easy. But being an ubhuti omdalana? (older brother) This was much harder. 

“Okay…” Shuri buried her head back into her knees, her braids shielding her face from view.  

The King looked to Nakia, hoping his girlfriend might have something to say here to help the situation. Instead, the war dog just smiled and squeezed T’Challa’s arm. “I am going to check on Y/N.” She whispered to him quietly. “You got this.” 

T’Challa held tightly to Nakia as she tried to pull away, shooting her a “Do not leave me here.” look, which only made Nakia smile. After a few tugs, she finally got her arm out of T’Challa’s hold and she bent down to speak to Shuri. “Sisi (sister), try to at least listen to what he says hmm?” She rubbed the princess’s shoulder gently, satisfied that she could go when Shuri gave her a small nod. 

When Nakia left T’Challa sat down next to his sister, pulling his knees to his chest to mimic her. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No.”

“Okay…” The siblings sat in silence for a little bit, T’Challa unsure of what to say. He tried to think what his Baba would do if he were still here or what kind words his mother would offer but he drew blanks. Just as he went to speak Shuri’s head popped up. 

“It is like she wants me to hate her or something.”

“Ingaba uthetha ukuthini? (What do you mean?)” T’Challa turned to look at his little sister confused by her words. 

“Y/N, it’s like she wants me to hate her. Everything she does I’m convinced she only does it to infuriate me.” T’Challa recognized the tone of his sister's voice, it was the same one that developed when she had solved a math problem or fixed a mechanical issue by herself. A tone of finality. 

“And what has she done thus far to make you hate her?” Now that he understood where Shuri’s problem lay, her brother felt much more confident helping her work through it. 

Shuri looked up at her brother as if he was crazy. “What do you mean what has she done to make me hate her? You heard the whole argument right?” 

T’Challa nodded. 

“Then you have heard just the most recent thing she’s done to infuriate me, becoming friends with Adah.” 

“And why can she not be friends with Adah?” T’Challa posed the question simply, raising his eyebrows at the Princess. 

“Because she knows I dislike Adah, she could have chosen any girl in the palace to be friends with and yet she chooses the one she knows I do not like? What kind of a friend does that?” Shuri let out a puff of air as she spoke about your behavior, but she didn’t stop there. 

“I mean really mkhuluwe (brother), do your friends treat you like that?” 

“Shuri,” T’Challa tried to stop his sister from continuing. 

“One moment, I am just saying who gave her the right to be so annoying! Friends are not supposed to be annoying-” 

“Shuri,” T’Challa tried again to interject but was shut down. 

“You came to listen to me talk, yet you keep cutting me off. Like I was saying friends are not supposed to be annoying, petulant, life-sucking-”

T’Challa couldn’t stand it any longer and finally, he fully interrupted her. “Shuri! For Bast's sake listen to me for a moment.” 

Shuri cocked her head back in disbelief, cutting her eyes at him in the process. “Did you just yell at me?” 

The King swallowed, “Yes.” 

Shuri looked him up and down before nodding, impressed at his ability to finally stand up to her. “Go on.” 

“All of this,” He gestured around her body. “Is because you’re upset with Y/N, yes?” 

Shuri faltered for a second, “Not just because of Y/N-”

“Your heart rate increases when you are lying, try again.” 

The Princess gasped, shoving her older brother. “I told you about using your black panther powers on me, it’s weird!” 

T’Challa only laughed. “But I am right, yes? All of this is because you’re mad that Y/N has made friends with someone you do not like.” 

“Yes.” Shuri’s response was quick, almost as if she didn’t wanna agree to what T’Challa had said. 

“But sisi, were you not the one to end the friendship with Y/N in the first place? How can you be mad at the way she has chosen to move on?” T’Challa’s words struck a chord with his sister. “Even if she did deliberately choose Adah to upset you, which we both know our Y/N, and I do not think that is something she would do. Why do you get to treat her poorly because of it?” 

Shuri let out a groan and turned away from her brother, but T’Challa continued. 

“What it sounds like to me, little sister is that you are jealous that Y/N has moved on and has found someone else to spend her time with.”

Shuri sat there processing her brother's words. Jealous? She wasn’t jealous… Right? 

On the other side of the palace, Nakia had finally located you. 

“How did I know I would find you here?” The older woman looked up at you in the trees. Nakia guessed that this tree, the same one you would climb up as a child, is where you would be.

“Not too much has changed hmm.” You offered. 

“Oh but so much has.” Nakia mused with a smile as she started her ascent into the trees. 

“Be careful, your body is not as young as it used to be.” You warned her with a laugh, earning a gentle shove from her once she finally got herself situated. 

“Are you calling me old sisi (sister)?” 

“I am not calling you young.” Your laughter only increased at her shocked expression. 

“I leave for a few months and you start insulting your elders? You really are just like Shuri.” Nakia meant the comment to be funny, and a few years prior it would have been. But now the mention of the princess made the smile slowly fade from your face. 

This of course did not go unnoticed by Nakia, she brushed your shoulder with hers gently. “Talk to me about her.” 

You shook your head, “Nakia, there's nothing to say about her that I haven't already said. You heard it all.” 

“Then tell it to me again. Explain to me how two girls who I watched grow up like sisters, now cannot spend a minute together without fighting.” Nakia’s brown eyes bore into your own. She always had a way about her, this energy that encouraged you to spill what had been weighing on you. And especially up here, high above the palace looking out onto the rest of the Golden City, you felt the urge to open up for once. 

“I don’t know what I did to make her so upset with me.” The words came out of your mouth quietly. “It was like one minute she was my best friend and now she can hardly stand the sight of me. Everything I do is somehow wrong in her eyes.”

“You know that’s not how she really feels Y/N.” Nakia tried to reason with you. 

“As much as you and Mama keep saying that Nakia, I think you’re wrong.” You finally pulled your eyes away from her. “She is all upset that I’ve chosen to spend time with someone else but she was the one who decided she didn’t want to spend any time with me.” 

Nakia tucked a few stray curls behind your ear. “Do you want to know what I think sisi?” 

You made a sound of inquiry, encouraging Nakia to continue. 

“I think she regrets her decision.” 

You whipped your head to face Nakia. “Intoni (What)?” 

“I am being serious, I think Shuri regrets her decision about ending the friendship,” Nakia spoke matter of factly as if she had weighed out all the options in front of her and settled on that one. 

“Yeah, and what about her behavior is saying ‘I want Y/N back as a friend.’ to you?” The question came out more comical than you intended but you couldn’t help it, the idea Nakia was pushing was laughable. 

“You and I both know Shuri, so you and I both know the last thing she can do is admit when she’s wrong. Think back to when we were kids and she didn’t want to admit that it was her miscalculations that made the hair dye ‘semi permanent’ not ‘washable’ like she insisted it was.” The memory Nakia brought up had you laughing. 

You and Shuri couldn’t have been but thirteen when she insisted that her new project was a hundred percent safe and a hundred percent NOT permanent. That of course led to you both having matching bright purple streaks in your hair for two months. 

Seeing your smile again brought Nakia some peace, she hadn’t lost you to your mind's overthinking yet. “Shuri is just hard-headed. She does not know how to say she wants you back in her life, so she doubles down on her stance.” 

You pondered Nakia’s words, it was true that Shuri did seem to double down on her dislike of you in the past three weeks. Almost as if being in increased proximity to you was making her miss you and lash out in response. 

“Promise me something?” Nakia wrapped her arm around your shoulder bringing you into her. 

“I can’t promise something if I do not know what it is Nakia. What if you wanted me to promise that I’ll jump from this spot right now? That’s not a promise I would make.” You were only rambling to annoy Nakia at this point and she knew it. She brought her other hand to flick your forehead. 

“Hush. Just promise me that you won’t shut Shuri out completely?” The older woman looked down at you awaiting your answer. “I know this is hard for you, having to be with her constantly when she isn’t the Shuri we know. But, there will come a time when she is again and I want you two to be able to rebuild when that comes.” 

You inhaled deeply debating if this was something you could promise to. 

“I’m not asking for you to lay down and let her insult you, Shuri needs someone to keep her in check too.” That got a chuckle out of you. The Princess needed more than just someone to keep her in check, she needed a full attitude adjustment. “But I am just saying, I think the more time you two spend together the more she’ll come back around.” There was a glint in Nakia’s eyes when she spoke that you didn’t recognize. 

“Okay.” You agreed quietly. 

“Okay?” Nakia squeezed you tight. “I will take an okay, I was not even sure if you were going to let me get this far!” 

The two of you both laughed in unison, knowing that it was a rare occasion when you actually took someone's advice. Your laughter was interrupted by the chirp of Nakia’s kimoyo beads alerting her that she had an incoming call. 

“Oh it's Challa, let us see what he wants.” The call went through and a holographic picture of the prince popped out of the beads. “Molo (Hello), sthandwa sami (my love). Everything is well I assume?” 

T’Challa grinned back at Nakia. “Ewe, just like you said it would.” The two just gazed at each other through the phone for a moment before the King cleared his throat. “I was um calling to see if you’d be joining us for dinner tonight?” 

“Of course, I would not miss it for the world.” Nakia’s reply came quick and you could have sworn T’Challa’s smile doubled in size. 

The soft sound of Shuri’s voice interrupted the moment. “Is Y/N with you?” 

Nakia hesitated a moment, “Yes, she is.” 

“Is she uh- coming with us to dinner?” Shuri herself seemed unsure if she actually wanted to ask the question. Peeking out from behind her brother's shoulder, showing that they were both still sitting on the floor. 

Nakia looked over at you, trying to judge your body language. When she didn’t sense anything that seemed like you were against the idea she finally spoke. “Ewe, she will be joining us for dinner.” 

Shuri sat up from her slouched position, her tone sounding more joyus. “Really? So it will be me, you, T’Challa, Mother, and Y/N. Good.” When she finished speaking she felt the eyes of T’Challa and Nakia on her, now both bearing sickeningly wide smiles. Why were they looking at her like that? As if her response was something they could have predicted. It made the princess check her attitude, returning back to her unbothered demeanor. “It is good Y/N will be joining us, for work and everything.”

“Mhm, I think so too.” T’Challa followed up his sister, alleviating some of the attention from her to himself. “Just like old times.”

Taglist:  @shuriszn @sokkasbae25 @verachii @cuddl3s4shur1 @takeyaki @jinnie10101 @letitias-fav @sweetalittleselfish-honey @beautybyfire @6-noir @mocha-aya @yvxmpire @mysticalmarss @ziayamikaelson @youralphawolf72 @n7cje @inmyheadimobsessed @shurisjournal @shurisbigtoe @saintwrld @pinkwright @chatitajens @playhousedistee @motheroffae @injeolmiee @tchhairbandhere @._mrqs @msudaku @lppriceisright @bratydoll @blackqueengold @iheartsolo @cafehyunji @abenomeiiii @naomis-daydream @ilroachsworld @locoforshuri

[niki-phoria]

hi! can i request sunghoon x taller m!reader? where sunghoon's comes one night while reader is just working on something (like writing an essay or working on a project ot smth) and just crashes on readers lap tired and wanting to be held after such a long tiring day?

i also just wanna say i appreciate you for actively posting for m!reader content, there isn't a whole lot of it out there so gems like you should very much be appreciated more! ty and have a nice day! 🫶

pairing: sunghoon x taller!male!reader (no pronouns used) genre: comfort word count: 850

includes: briefly sad sunghoon, reader works an unspecified job but he's tired bc aren't we all, reader is implied to be taller than sunghoon but it's not really mentioned

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i love this idea sm, i hope you like it :))

requests open !! read my rules first

your feet ache as you shove your phone into your hoodie pocket. the scratchy material of your work uniform irritates your skin as you sigh. “goodnight y/n!” your manager calls as you push the glass door open. the bell above you chimes, letting in a rush of cold air around you. 

“goodnight,” you wave. “i’ll see you tomorrow.” she smiles brightly at you as you leave. it shuts behind you with a small click. unfortunately, her cheerful attitude doesn’t rub off on you in the same way as you trudge through the empty city streets back to your apartment. 

the elevator dings as the doors slide open in front of you. your bag weighs heavy on your shoulders as you walk past the same monotone doors you see everyday. you jump slightly when you notice someone pacing in front of your apartment door. their steps are hurried and small as they circle around. 

your fear dissipates when you begin to recognize the figure as you approach. sunghoon stands with his hands buried deep into his pockets and a hood pulled up to conceal his identity as much as possible. “sunghoon?”

he startles when you call his name, turning to face you. dried tear streaks on his cheeks become visible when you approach. “y/n,” he whispers. his voice is quiet and small; as if he’s worried someone will hear him. 

“hey,” you murmur. you wrap your arms around his waist as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. he grips the fabric of your hoodie tightly as he clings to you. you rub a gentle hand against his back, holding him tightly against your body. “come on,” you whisper, pulling away just enough so sunghoon has space to walk beside you. “let’s go inside.”

“right,” he sniffles. “sorry.”

“don’t be.” you wrap your arm around his waist as you guide him inside before clicking the light on. sunghoon wanders over to your couch, stiffly sitting down by the corner. you toss your keys and phone aside on your kitchen counter before walking over to sit beside him. you reach over, gently coaxing sunghoon closer to you once again. he curls into your arms almost immediately, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and hiding his face into your neck once again. “do you want to talk about it?” you whisper. 

“it’s just…” sunghoon takes a shaky breath before shaking his head. “i had a bad day. i had a hard time with the choreography and then we had to record and…” he sighs. “it’s been a very long, very bad day.”

“okay honey,” you murmur. “do you need anything? a blanket? water?”

“just wanna lay here with you.“

“we can do that too.” you lean down to press a kiss against his forehead, continuing to rub a comforting hand against his back. “we can lay here and watch dramas and eat snacks all night until you fall asleep. does that sound good?”

sunghoon simply hums against you. the noise is muffled against your clothing, though you can just barely make it out. you bring your hand up to rake through the soft strands of his hair, twisting the strands between your fingers. he relaxes against you at the feeling. slowly, his breathing evens out until his eyes flutter closed. 

“hoon,” you whisper. he shifts just enough to look up at you through half-lidded eyes. “come on. let’s go change and then we can lay down in bed together under the blankets. i’ll massage your shoulders and we can do your skincare. doesn’t that sound nice?” 

sunghoon nods, sleepily letting you help him up. your arm remains tightly around his waist as you guide him to your bedroom. he all but collapses onto your bed, curling up over the covers. you stifle a chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. 

you tug your work uniform off quickly; discarding the scratchy fabric and jeans in favor of an old t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. you toss the dirtied clothes aside before returning to sunghoon’s side, rubbing a hand against his back. “sit up,” you instruct. 

he sleepily lets you remove his jacket before you give him one of your shirts to wear - one of his favourites from your closet. it hands loosely off of his figure as he moves to lay underneath your blankets. you reach over, turning your tv on and switching the channel to play reruns of a random drama. the plot quickly is forgotten as sunghoon moves over to you, adjusting so his head is resting against your chest. you lean down to press a kiss against his forehead before tucking your chin over his head. 

“i love you,” sunghoon lets out a content sigh as he whispers. 

“i love you too,” you smile. you bring a hand up to brush through his hair, playing with the strands. “i’m glad you came to me today.”

sunghoon reaches over to grab your hand before intertwining your fingers together. he plays with your hands as he relaxes further into your hold. “i am too.”