#so...not to guilt trip but the money would be appreciated right now
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just read ‘long distance’ and i was wondering if you could serve pain? jen walters was mentioned and reader exists, that means angst and maybe cheating (or even a hint of it?) please??? i love your fluff and smut pieces. also the angst (but i dont dwell too much since self harming is better left in the past for me) but i really like how you deliver pain. i hope this gets chosen and written, but no pressure ofc. thank you and may the spirit of creativity live within you.
Hi, nonnie! I'm sorry you had to wait so long. I wasn't sure if you wanted a part 2 or an entirely new fic, so I kind of used part of what I already mentioned in Long Distance and continued in this fic. I didn't do full-on cheating, but it's still angst, and well... there is no comfort. I hope you like it!
Burn | Matt Murdock x Reader
Masterlist
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader
Summary: Matt comes home after his work trip and tells you something that changes your life forever.
Warnings: Angst, mentions of Smut, cheating
Word Count: 2.7k
You’re not sure what happened.
Matt spent a few weeks in Los Angeles to work on a case that would bring in some money. You didn’t mind; he does it sometimes. Since he, Foggy, and Karen opened the doors of their law firm again, work trips between the three have become more frequent. They’re making money now, and you would always support it.
You have also never been insecure about your relationship with him before. You and Matt have been together for years, even before the Blip, and you held onto each other when all of your friends disappeared. You thought you were happy. His job is going well; you are happy and don’t have to live paycheck by paycheck anymore. At least you thought so.
While he was away, you talked over the phone regularly. He always seemed so relieved to hear your voice. You often talked for hours, and you texted him sweet nothings during the day. He told you he appreciated it.
Every other night, you would retreat to your bedroom and he would guide you to orgasm after orgasm with the sound of his voice, and you would do the same. The toy he got you before he left for LA came in handy more than once since you could be connected over the distance now and still somehow control each other’s pleasure.
When he texted you he would be home earlier than expected, you were so excited, you took the day off, put on your best lingerie, and cooked dinner. You thought he would be happy to be with you again; he told you how much he missed you. He compared it very dramatically to a lack of air and that you were his oxygen, and you remember laughing at him. You have never loved a man as much as you love Matt Murdock, so it is only natural for you to get excited, right?
You talked about marriage before, maybe even kids. You planned a future together. Deep down, you’ve been waiting for him to pop the question. Foggy is an idiot and he let something slip one day, and ever since you have been vigilant. You thought that he might finally ask you after coming home from his trip.
You thought. That seemed to be the common denominator. You always just believe and hope for the best; in the end, things don’t turn out how you want them to.
You’re really not sure what happened, but something did happen because when Matt opens the door, he’s not even smiling at you.
“Welcome back!” you greet him with the brightest smile you can offer. Maybe he’s just tired.
But you know him and you know the difference between exhaustion and guilt; the man before you may be tired, but he is also struggling with the shame he inflicted upon himself, and it is not his duty as Daredevil this time.
He drops his bag by the door. You lean in for a kiss. “How was your flight?” you ask.
You’re in denial. Something happened, but you don’t want to ruin it. You don’t want to ruin this. You keep telling yourself it’s going to be okay, but you just don’t know what happened to get you here–
He evades your lips, simply hugging you briefly before answering, “Good.”
Your body trembles. “Matt.”
“What?”
“What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean, what’s wrong?” he retorts. He moves to the kitchen and grabs himself a bottle of beer. “I’m just tired.”
You frown. “Is that why you can’t even look at me?” you ask.
“Don’t be ridiculous, sweetheart–” the usually so endearing nickname sounds so bitter now. “You know I can’t see,” he says.
“You know what I mean.” You cross your arms. “Something isn’t right.”
His expression is serious, and it sends a wave of unease crashing over you. You try to push away the worry that gnaws at your insides, but it's hard to ignore the change in his demeanor.
He avoids your gaze, his eyes flickering around the room as if searching for something, or perhaps, avoiding something. Silence hangs heavy in the air, stretching the seconds into eternity.
That’s when you know that something happened, and it affects you because if it didn’t, he wouldn’t be so distant toward you. You taught him to always be open with you about his struggles, and he has managed to learn how to voice his needs, so it confuses you when he does neither and treats you more like a stranger than his girlfriend.
There was only one time in your relationship he acted this way and that was the day Elektra stepped back into his life, and with it, yours.
Your stomach churns. The hope you had built up crumbles, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. “What happened?” you urge again.
He leans against the kitchen counter, turning his head away from you. Tears are glistening in his eyes behind his red glasses.
“Matthew, please,” you beg. “Talk to me. Tell me!”
The room feels heavy with tension. His shoulders slump, and for a moment, it seems like he's about to break, to let the words spill forth. But just as quickly, he straightens his posture and averts his gaze.
"I can't," he whispers. "I can't tell you."
You step forward, but he shies away as if being close to you is somehow toxic. It breaks your heart. He looks disgusted, and you wonder if it's because of you. Maybe you used the wrong body wash, but that would elicit a different reaction. You didn't do anything differently today, you're simply excited, that's all there is, but as you look at him, he seems to be the exact opposite. Stoic, empty, cold...
“We've always been honest with each other, Matt," you say, still walking up to him even as he recoils. "I cooked dinner for you, took a shower, got dressed... and now you won't even fucking try and look at me. You've been gone for weeks! Please, just... I deserve to know what's going on." You reach for him, but this time, he moves away wholly.
The distance between you becomes a void that you could easily slip in and drown. His body language is a storm, causing the waves to crash into the shore and choke up with their cruel claws.
His grip tightens around the neck of the beer bottle, his knuckles turning white. You can see the faintest scars; you know he brought his suit with him, you just didn't think he would actually use it. "You deserve better," he says, more to himself than to you. There is the guilt you have been waiting for, but it still affects you because he is talking about you.
Your heart skips a beat. You have had this conversation many times in the past. "Better?" you ask. "Matt, what are you talking about? I don't want better, I want you." You laugh in disbelief, but he doesn't even smile. He's not trying to hide how much pain he is from the weight of his guilt, and it makes you scared for what's about to come.
His gaze flickers toward you, and his eyes reflect myriad emotions—sadness, regret, and something else you can't quite place. "You shouldn't want me," he loathes himself, “Not after... not after everything."
"What?" You place a hand on his arm, forcing him to turn to you. "I love you," you say.
He shakes his head. He never shakes his head when you tell him you love him. It's like he's telling you the opposite, that you shouldn't love him or that he doesn't feel the same for you anymore; the feelings swirling in your chest are confusing, and you just don't understand. Your mind races, trying to connect the dots, desperate to make sense of his cryptic words.
His grip on the bottle loosens, and he takes a shaky breath. "I- I fucked up."
Your heart sinks. The pain you had sensed, the distance between you, it all falls into place. The parallel between his behavior now and back when Elektra almost tore you apart. The pieces of the puzzle form a picture you never wanted to see find their way together.
"Did you... cheat on me?" you ask, the words catching in your throat. The mere thought feels like a knife twisting in your chest, but you don't cry, you simply stare at him, waiting for any kind of reaction.
It's the thought you loathe the most, but you seem to hit the nail right on the head.
Matt's silence is confirmation enough. "Oh God," you breathe.
“It was just a kiss,” he whispers.
“A– you kissed someone else?”
“Yeah.”
“Walters?”
He takes a shaky sip of his drink.
“Oh, my God, Matthew!” The cork to your heart pops and you start bleeding out, it seems. “What?” you ask. “Please, tell me you’re just messing with me. Please!” You want to get on your knees and pray to God that he’s lying, but he’s so quiet and his face is so stern, you can’t help but believe him.
The one thing he promised you he would never do, he did. And that is something you once told him that if he ever did it, you wouldn’t be able to forgive him.
The foundation of trust you had built with Matt feels shattered, and you struggle to comprehend how he could break his promise to you. Emotions swirl within you, colliding with one another, leaving you feeling lost and vulnerable.
He grabs your hand suddenly when you try to put some distance between you to sort your thoughts, his glasses now discarded, and he looks past you with so much pain in his eyes, you can feel your own tears near. He whispers your name.
“No,” you say. “I can’t–”
“Please, listen to me. I can explain,” Matt says. “I can–”
“You can’t! You promised… I– wasn’t I good enough for you? What happened, Matthew? What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing! You did nothing wrong, sweetheart. Please, it was a stupid mistake.”
“A mistake?”
He tugs at your arm again. When you don’t seem to budge, he sinks to his knees. Your throat tightens, your heart shattering on the floor next to him. He has torn it out with his bare hands, squeezed it too hard and now you’re nothing more than an empty shell, your very essence broken on the living room floor.
“Please,” he begs. His hands rest on your hips and his unfocused eyes try to search for yours.
The fact he only now thinks he has to fight for you instead of coming clear right away makes you angry, not just sad. You turned your back and that’s what prompted him to fight, even though he should have tried so much sooner.
You loved him with all you had, and a foolish part of you still does, but hearing the words coming out of his mouth that he betrayed your trust in such a cruel way tears down the walls you have been seeing through rose-colored glasses and cut your love for him into pieces with a sharp dagger.
Your best friend once told you that you should be careful, Matt would do anything to survive. Yet, you stayed around through the sleepless nights and the heartache. You worried about him every day and every night he went out as Daredevil to cleanse the streets, and you stitched him up without knowing what you were doing. You held him as he cried, offered him your endless support, and then some more, anything just to be loved by him, but he treated you so well. He gave you everything you needed, showed you a love no one has before and he was so dedicated, you felt at home with him. You trusted him with your life. You owe him your life, and yet, after everything you have been through together, one work trip to another State is all it takes for him to throw away years of history and kiss someone else? And Jennifer Walters, no less?
You never thought you had to be worried about anyone catching Matt’s attention. You had been so confident before, but now? Now you just feel useless, imperfect, and like a damn fool.
“Matt,” you whimper.
He holds on even tighter. “Can we talk about this?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
You look up, but the tears are flowing freely now.
“I’m sorry. Please, I don’t want to lose you. I love you so fucking much, baby. Please! I can’t live without you. Don’t leave me. I can make it up to you, I promise, just… give me another chance.”
“Yeah?” It pains you to tear his hands from your body, but you have to. “If you didn’t want to lose me,” you say, “you should have thought about it before you decided to kiss someone else.”
He says your name, begging you once again to just stay. Talk this through. Stay. He is like a serpent in your ear, and you want nothing more than to give in, but when you reflect on your time together, you don’t know if you should even think about giving in.
Matt has been obsessed with justice from the start. He chose it over you more than once, and it took you many nights and many fights for you to get him to stay even for a night or two to be with you, the person he claimed to love most of all. And now you are supposed to stay after he did what he did? It may be stupid to react this way if it was just a kiss, but he never once said it was accidental, and that means he has thought about cheating on you. He kissed someone else, someone who isn’t you, and he set your heart on fire the same way he has set your life together alight.
Maybe he kissed her because she’s like him–maybe he kissed Jennifer Walters because she understands, and he has often accused you of not understanding. Maybe in her, he has found someone who won’t keep him from New York City just for one date night. Maybe in her, he has found someone who doesn’t break down crying when he comes home late because she thinks he died in a fight with a criminal. And maybe in her, he has found the woman he actually wants to marry.
Marry. The word makes you choke up.
As if he read your thoughts, he crawls toward you and stops you from walking away. He digs his fingers further into your hips, retrieving a small box from his pants, and God, do you want to punch him right now.
You were right about the proposal, but he was planning to propose and still kissed someone else, and that is a betrayal on a whole new level.
“The audacity,” you whisper to yourself.
Tears are streaming down his face and he looks as if he thinks pulling out a ring after telling you he made out (no, kissed) with Jennifer Walters in Los Angeles is going to fix everything.
“Please,” he begs, “I only want you. I wanted to ask you–”
“No,” you cut him off. “Don’t you fucking dare, Matthew!” You pull away. “This is… I’ve been waiting for you to do this for so long, but you… what the fuck? No! Especially not now!” Your body Wracks with a sob. “I need time, and I can’t do this right now. Kissing Walters is one thing, but telling me you bought a ring for me and still kissed someone else? It hurts,” you say.
It hurts too fucking much, you can’t breathe. He was your oxygen too, in a way, but he has cut off the supply and now you are dying a slow and agonizing death.
“I’m so sorry.” His arms drop to his sides in defeat, but he remains on his knees. “I never meant to hurt you,” Matt cries, “I promise! I just… I made a mistake.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
“I–“
“I’m sorry for falling in love with you. That was my mistake.”
Ouch. Now you have taken his heart, pulled it out and shattered it with one twist of your wrist. But he deserves it.
Matt listens to the sound of your hasty movements as you pack some clothes. He listens to your tears, your sobs, and the shaking of your muscles as you shudder. He listens and stays right there on the floor, his head lowered as God’s judgment comes upon him.
And within minutes, your heartbeat leaves his ears and you are gone.
You left him, and he deserves every last ounce of pain it inflicts on him.
He’s an Icarus who has flown too close to the sun, and you deserve better than him.
It wasn’t Jennifer who brought him back to life, it was you and it will always be you, but he screwed that up, too, and he has to live with it now. Without you.
The ring box slips from his hands and then, he allows himself to break down.
Matt Murdock Angst Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @lina-mar @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @thychuvaluswife
#matt murdock#daredevil#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock imagines#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock x you#no y/n#matt murdock angst#human disaster matt murdock#request
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Main Trio With A S/O That Loves Reading - A Little Too Much
★Warnings: None
★Characters: Bakugo, Midoriya, and Todoroki
★Reader: Gender Neutral
★Synopsis: just read the title heh
Not happy.
At all.
I’m sorry.
But he’s not.
Having your face being sucked into a book 24/7 doesn’t let you leave with much attention for him.
He’s attention deprived put down the dang book and hug him.
Another reason that fuels his hatred for your love of books is because your behavior reminds him of Deku - like, a lot.
If he wasn’t deeply in love with you he would have tossed you into a garbage can, but he’s Bakugo so he’ll probably do that anyway.
But if it really mattered that much to you, he’d respect it.
And probably take his anger out on Midoriya instead.
I doubt he’ll surprise you with books as gifts, considering the fact that you have every known book in the universe written by every author ever.
But if you ever see a book you like, he’ll buy it for you, even if you already do have twenty different copies of the same book with different covers.
And no, he won’t let you pay for it yourself.
If you even try, he’ll start yelling and angrily threaten to murder the cashier’s entire family if they accept your payment instead of his.
“SHUT UP, I DON’T CARE IF ITS ILLEGAL, IF HE DOESN’T TAKE MY MONEY I’M TAKING HIS GODDAMN LIFE.”
He’ll hardly ever openly show his respect or liking for your hobby ever.
Which makes him the biggest effing hypocrite on the planet Earth.
BROSKI GOES TO BED EVERYDAY AT 8PM.
AND IS SUPER UPER DUPER ACADEMICALLY AND BATTLE SMART.
YOU CANNOT TELL ME THAT THIS MAN DOESN’T READ BOOKS FOR THE SAKE OF KNOWLEDGE.
AND DOESN’T ENJOY IT.
most of the time, at least.
OH YOU POOR POOR SOUL
Yes, dating Midoriya is great and all.
But Bakugo is about to make your life a living hell.
As if one nerd was bad enough for him, now theres two.
And the second one is arguably more annoying than the first.
At least Midoriya can hold a conversation - with your nose in a book at all times, its surprising that you’re in a relationship at all.
Midoriya doesn’t seem like the type to mind at all though.
You are to books, as he is to training.
He fully relates to your obsession with books, he’s obsessed too, just not as much as you are. You >>>> Training >>>>> Books
If you’re into writing as well, and you’re thinking of publishing, he’ll be right there by your side helping you.
How are ogres different from trolls? He’ll research.
When were bees domesticated? He knows.
What is the weight and size of the average fictional fairy? research again
“Okay but does it really matter if you’ve been using the wrong tense over a couple chapters? Just tweak it a bit an-HEY NO DON’T DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN I’LL HELP YOU FIX IT.”
With him by your side, you’ll never make any stupid spelling mistakes.
But if you start reading too much and disregarding your studies, he takes it upon himself AS HIS DUTY AS YOUR BOYFRIEND TO KINDLY DRAG YOU AWAY FROM YOUR BOOKCASE
He appreciates your interests, but won’t let you fail school.
So don’t even think about it.
uh
I seriously doubt he sees the root of your interests at first.
He’s understand right away if it were textbooks for school - cause its educational.
But fantasy books and the like? I doubt he’d get it immediately.
Whether you like books or not he’d treat you the same either way.
He’s a mix of Bakugo and Todoroki.
He would never let you fail school.
And at the same time, buys you all the books you want.
With the money he took from Endeavor’s wallet.
“Huh? Oh don’t worry about the cost. Its not my money anyway.”
You’ll never need to worry about paying for your books again.
Besides, if his dad does find about him stealing the money he’ll emotionally guilt trip him into giving him allowance.
Its a win/win anyway!
You get a book and he gets to annoy his dad.
He loves seeing your eyes light up as you glimpse at your new book and watching your grin getting progressively wider.
His house is huge too, so I bet they have a library or at least a ridiculously large bookcase. Either way, he’d take you to his house and while he works on his homework, you skim through the books.
He loves those moments near you - even if you aren’t talking or touching, you’re just there, and thats all he needs.
Hiiiiii :> This is my first post on this blog, although I have been active on my other blog, which is a total train wreck of multiple fandoms. Heh.
Please feel free to interact about anything and send requests too :))
I’d really appreciate that. Have a lovely day or night, wherever you are <3
#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha x reader#mha x reader#my hero academia#my hero academia x reader#boku no hero academia x reader#midoriya x reader#izuku x reader#deku x reader#todoroki x reader#bnha headcanons#mha headcanons#shouto todoroki x reader#shoto todoroki x reader#todoroki#bnha season six#bnha season 6#my hero academia season six#my hero academia season 6#mha season 6
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crossing a line (i)
doug remer/joe cooper (?) x gender neutral scolari!reader
wc: ~1.7k words
warnings: light swearing ig, (small & LEGAL) age gap but nothing really happens right now
a/n: this is not only my first time writing for BASEketball, but writing fics in a long time. so bear with me if my characterization is off in any way. and i havent fully figured out who im writing this about, so bear with me on that too! any feedback is appreciated!!
edit: part 2 here
As a teenager, you fell in love with living “out west” somewhere. Wisconsin was lovely, yes, but tales of California filled your eyes with stars. So, you made it your goal to reach The Golden State. At fifteen, you started to work after school, saving up money from your crappy cashier job to afford out-of-state schooling. You even took a gap year to secure enough money. Unfortunately, you couldn't afford a California lifestyle even on a scholarship and with your saved-up funds. Luckily, you had applied for backup schools in the northwest. You chose a school in Seattle because you heard it was nicer than the schools in Oregon that you applied to. And that's how you ended up moving to Washington for school. It had been a hard choice and an even harder goodbye with your brother.
Despite the six-year age gap you two shared, you and Kenny were really close. He, despite his short stature, was always the protective big brother, sometimes to an extreme. And as a kid, you found it overbearing, as an adult you mostly found it endearing. While you two had kept in contact over the years, you hadn't had a chance to see him in person since you left. At first, it was because school and work kept you busy plus you figured that after the sport he and some old friends of his created, he was pretty busy himself.
But, eventually, you stopped talking to him because you dropped out of school after about a year & a half. The expenses built up, you couldn’t keep up with the workload and it was stressing you out far more than it should, so you dropped out, mid-semester. And the fear of being shamed for that decision had made you never want to return to Wisconsin. You even stopped watching Beers’ games for awhile because even seeing your brother on TV made you feel guilty. You avoided calling him, but would always answer if he called you. When he asked about school, you lie, saying it was going great, but keeping it vague. And as much as you missed your brother, you didn’t want to have to face him. But, as luck would have it, he would call you after the season had ended and arranged your coming home. He’d brought you the plane ticket and told you that you were going to be on that plane. The excitement, fear and guilt you felt was indescribable. You were excited to see him because finally it would mean the Scolari’s were back together, but the fear of disappointing your brother was immense.
Kenny had picked you up from the airport and the two of you were driving back to his place. The trip was fairly quiet as part of you didn’t want to there, but everything else was quiet as well. The road, the radio, the wind. The silence felt awkward to you, but you just telling yourself that your brother didn't notice it.
“By the way, I forgot to tell Coop and Remer you’re coming...” He explained, flashing his eyes over to you. Your eyes widened a little, recalling the names and the people attached to them. You were eleven the last time you saw them in person, but of course, you watched Beers games all the time.
When you last saw Airman and Sir Swish, It was your brother's high school graduation. You were standing with your brother when the two came over, calling Kenny ‘Squeak’. You laughed at the nickname. Your brother shot you a disappointed look. You apologized as the two men then turned their attention to you. Coop would be the first one to say something,
“So, Squeak here’s your brother?” You nodded, with a smile. Coop, you noted, had blue eyes, something you always wanted because you thought they were cool. Remer, whos hair was his most defining feature, then butted in,
“What’s it like having ol’ Squeak here as your brother?” Kenny rolled his eyes and tried to pull you away from the conversation. But you, the stubborn kid you were, refused to move. At the time, high schoolers were so immensely cool to you. You would answer any question they had for you.
“Kenny is so cool. He’s always telling me cool facts. Like, uhm, did you know the president was in a movie?!” You beamed. It's true that you thought the world of the brother, and you said what you meant in good faith but the two older boys started laughing. Once again, your brother tugged at your arm, signalling he wanted to leave.
“If you guys are gonna be assholes, I’m leaving.” Kenny snapped. Coop and Remer minimized their laughing. Remer then patted your head lovingly, and smiled,
“You’re a good one, kid. You want a cool nickname like your brother here?” You were star struck at the offer and excitedly nodded yes. High schoolers were cool after all. Your brother was protesting but you didn’t care. The two teens looked at you for a moment before Remer spoke again,
“How about Pip. As in Pipsqueak?”
“Nah dude, that's too close to Squeak.” Coop gestured to your brother.
“Thats the point dude.” Remer rebutted. Coop was about to argue back when you spoke up, saying you really liked it. Kenny, Coop and Remer all shared a glance.
“Well then, nice meeting you Pip.”
“You think they’d remember me?” You question after a moment. Kenny shrugs his shoulders as he pulls into a driveway for his shared house.
“Guess we’ll see.” He opens the door and gets out of the car. You follow suit and walk back to the car’s trunk where your luggage is. Ken unlocks the trunk, but as you go to grab your luggage, he hits your hand away. You nod and offer a quick thanks as he pulls them out. You look at the house, taking it in. It’s nothing spectacular but it’s certainly larger than any home you’ve been in. Above the garage is a hoop, presumably for baseketball games between the three men who reside in the home. You’ve fallen behind your brother who’s now waiting on the doorstep, luggage next to him with keys in hand. You rush over to him and watch as he unlocks the door.
It swings open revealing a fairly large and nice room. Guess basketball was more profitable than you first thought. Directly to your right is a living room with a TV, a couch and a small coffee table. It was messy; beer cans scattered across the floor, what was likely day-old dishes on the table. A dust-covered VCR next to a pile of VHS tapes. The living room was clearly lived in, but the kitchen directly ahead of you was a different story; it looked unused. As much as you disagreed with stereotypes, three men living alone having a clean kitchen didn't strike you as odd. Your brother sighed in relief, seemingly glad his roommates-slash-friends-slash teammates were MIA. You pulled your luggage inside across the threshold as you took in the new environment.
“You’re staying in my room. No arguing about it!” You jokingly pouted but nodded. Kenny guided you to his room. It was down a small hallway. When he opened the door, you saw it was fairly basic. He had a few honours from his ongoing career as a professional baseketball star and some photos of the family scattered around, but it was otherwise unimpressive. You threw the luggage on the bed and trying to decide if you wanted to unpack it when a voice from behind startled you.
“Holy shit!” You hadn’t expected to recognize it as easily as you did. You were greeted by the tall and lanky Doug Remer. Of course, you’ve seen him on TV since you watch a lot of Beers' games, but he looked different than your memories. It was like he was a new person somehow. Maybe it was the height, something which once was very noticeable between the two of you, but now so much. There was something just…different, and not in a bad way either. You offered a small wave to the man who gave a huge smile in return.
“Lil Pip, all grown up.” You joked. It was surprising, but the familiarity of being back with him was comforting. It was another reminder of a past you missed. Remer just stood there unsure of what to say. You offered a smile to Doug, and he replied with two finger guns. You giggled before Kenny, quickly butted in,
“Remer, if you try anything, I’ll make sure you regret it.” Always the defensive brother. You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Of course, during one of your phone calls, you’d heard about the playboy that was Doug Remer. Kenny complained all the time about Remer hooking up with random chicks and even making out with a few guys a couple times. But you also knew that sometimes Kenny would embellish stories as a way of “protecting you”. Regardless, you figured Doug wasn’t stupid enough to pull anything with you, knowing how it would upset Kenny. And after all, any bad blood between the team was bad for the game. Remer, in response to your brother’s threat, raised his hands up defensively and walked off without saying another word.
“Ken, you didn’t need to do that. I promise I can handle myself.” You said after you were certain Doug was out of hearing range. Your brother apologized but you could still tell it was bugging him. Even though most of the time, the protective act was endearing, this was certainly not one of those times. As you pulled your luggage off the bed (you weren’t going to unpack, that was a lot of effort), you asked your brother a question,
“What would you do if I did hook up with him—or Coop?” It was mostly to see his reaction. It was a fun thought experiment. Kenny tensed up and responded with mostly stammering and confused tones. You laughed, both at the notion AND Kenny’s reaction, and you saw him relax instantly.
“Don’t worry, I’ll behave myself, Ken. Besides, he’s not even that good-looking.”
#baseketball#joe cooper x reader#doug remer x reader#trey parker#matt stone#matt stone x reader#trey parker x reader#joe cooper#doug remer#squeak scolari
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tw- family problems, parental issues,fighting, relationship problems (i think)
seeking- advice, vent
(sorry for any typos) also, can this be tagged as flower anon tyy:)
my whole life my dad has treated my mom terribly i didn’t realize it wasnt normal when i was little, as i’ve gotten older i’ve been realizing how terrible he treats everyone around him especially my mom. my eyes have recently been opening to his true character and i wont go into detail but i feel so guilty that im resenting him cause he can be so nice sometimes but even that is following by something negative. but i dont wanna make this about that cause its about how he treats my mom.
when i was younger they would fight all the time and even still hes always the one to start it. all he does is complain about everything yet does nothing about whatever it is he’s complaining about. he has my mom do his laundry, make his dinner, fold his clothes, make his bed, all of it. by the way my mom has her own job which shes in a lot of pain at the end of the day cause of it and she has to come home to his bs. if she doesnt have his dinner done he freaks out and guilt trips by saying how hes gonna go to bed without eating, when they eat out almost every night so he can easily order food himself or go pick it up. even if he wants her to make home-cooked food for dinner if shes at work, literally doing her job he’ll complain about it and make her feel bad.
he makes her pay rent even tho her hours have got cut so she doesnt make as much any more and he can absolutely afford the whole rent himself. he has literally gone to her job and yelled at her before and now she doesnt want to get another job cause she knows hes gonna go to the boss there and tell him what time she can and cant work.
he polices everything she does if she gets a package he pesters her about whats in it, she leaves the house he pesters her about that. just today she was literally at his parents house (something he never does) and got mad at her for being gone??? its unbelievable. this is all only the icing on the cake. i remember one time me and my mom were going to get something to eat and he yelled at her before we left and when we were in the car she said to me “when you marry, marry someone who will let you be yourself” and it just broke my heart:( she deserves so much better and i just dont know how to help. i want to get a job to help her with money but i have severe social anxiety and also no school or work credits to do so but hopefully once i get my GED ill be able to do something with that. but im no sure what to do. i want to help her so bad but i have no idea how. theres so much more to all of this but im not sure how to tw it 100% correctly so i dont want to say too much, but if there’s any advice you have for this situation it would be really appreciated 🥲 thank you so much for your time!
Hi anon,
It's understandable why you feel guilty for resenting your dad even though sometimes he can be sweet or well-mannered. But it's important to honor why you feel resentment and not necessarily let your dad's good behavior make you feel like you can't be upset about how he has behaved in the past. Sometimes people intentionally behave well to minimize the impact of their bad behavior and make others feel like they have no right to complain. But it's also possible that good behavior is a sign of learning from past mistakes, but even still, it's natural and okay to feel complex emotions about that shift.
It sounds like your dad puts full responsibility on your mom, both productive and reproductive labor, to the point that he acts as if he is completely dependent on your mom fulfilling unreasonable expectations. It makes sense why your mom seems to be constantly driven to a breaking point - because she is carrying the entire weight of the relationship, and more.
It sounds like the best thing for your mom is to get away from your dad, but of course it's not simple or easy. I don't know where she is located but she could potentially consider looking into nearby domestic violence shelters as they can offer a safe place to stay while she comes up with a plan to live independently.
If anyone has any other comments or suggestions, feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help, and please let us know if you need anything.
-Bun
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Imagine
It’s the middle of summer. You’ve spent june and part of july holed up in your room studying your butt off for final exams. Your eating and exercise are routine at this point. Eat according to the mealplan, workout for an hour, repeat. It’s been five months now and you’ve not really let yourself embrace your changes since you’ve been so busy. No shopping sprees for new clothes or spas or anything. You’ve been dressing comfortably, putting your hair (which has been getting longer) up with a clip, not wearing any makeup…
But exams are over.
You wake up, first day of your summer break to the birds chirping. You’ve gotten used to getting up early. The sun is painting the sky orange as you rub the sleep from your eyes. You hop out of bed and shuffle to the bathroom. You haven’t checked your weight in a week. You haven’t even properly looked at yourself in a while. You step on the scale and nervously wait for the verdict.
“48 kg”
The scale blinks up at you. You step off, and step back on again. No way. You’ve actually reached your ugw?
Again, the scale shows the same number as before and you feel tears pricking your beautiful eyes. You’ve waited for so long, worked so hard for this. And it’s finally happened. You’ve proved to yourself that you could do it.
You quickly run out of the bathroom and throw open your closet doors. Right, you need new clothes.
The trip to the mall was… less miserable than you thought it would be. You expected to be near fainting the second you stepped out of the house in the summer heat, but no. You no longer have layers and layers of fat insulating your body, so heat is much more bearable for you now. You walk into ZARA, the first store you see. You look out of place dressed in a slouchy hoodie and jeans that haven’t been your size for the last three months.
You pick up a few sundresses, shorts and tops to try on. You’re a bit nervous and paranoid. What if your size didn’t change? What if the scale was lying and you’re still a whale that can’t even squeeze her ass into size 40 jeans?
You take off your clothes in the changing room and slip on the dress first. It’s a dress in a size S and to your surprise, it’s a little baggy. Not even tight around your chest or waist, it’s a little loose actually. You stare at your reflection with wonder. Yes, you’re not perfect but you’re so close.
You eagerly slip off the dress, making a mental note to pick up a size down, and go for the thing that scares you the most - the pants.
You’ve always had narrower hips, but your waist has always been huge. You’ve always had a belly, and even now that you see that your stomach is as flat as can be, you’re still nervous. You shimmy into size 36 pants and feel the button close without you having to suck in.
You stare down at yourself in awe. No way. You went from a size 44-46 to a size 36. Five sizes down. You look at yourself in the mirror and unclip your hair, watching it fall down to your shoulders. You look beautiful. Just like you dreamed you would. You try on all of the other clothes before heading to the cash register with a satisfied smile. You pay for the clothes with your own money, feeling accomplished and unstoppable.
You change into your new clothes in the bathroom and appreciate your figure for a moment. The denim shorts, paired with your flowy white blouse and white sneakers looked like something off of a pinterest board. You put on mascara and lip gloss that you had laying around in your bag and the look is finished.
You do some more shopping, noticing all of the double takes and awed looks you get from the people around you. You’re no longer invisible. People either want to be you or want to be with you.
You buy a few lingerie sets, a few bikinis for the pool and head home. You’ve never felt this happy after a shopping trip. You can see why pretty and skinny girls love shopping. For them, it doesn’t come with a mandatory side of self hatred and guilt, it’s playing dress up with unlimited clothing options. You’re starting to love it too.
Now, it is time for vacations and parties.
When you go to the beach with your friends it’s no longer you feeling insecure next to them. You know you’re hot. You’re free now. You feel satisfaction from how you can read your book in the shade without feeling self conscious about you rolls and play in the water without worrying that your bikini makes you look like an overstuffed sausage. You play and have fun and relish at the attention of others.
People hit on you now. Quite often too. You can barely go out in public alone without some guy coming up to you and trying to get your number. You smile and wave it off most of the time, but internally you’re on cloud nine.
You’re photogenic now too. After the weight loss and the plastic surgery, you basically don’t have a bad angle. You’ve done some freelance modelling, you actually post on your instagram now and your dms are full to say the least.
Your personality has returned. You missed the bubbly, sociable girl you knew you could be all your life but never had the chance to be. People don’t find you annoying anymore. You can be your weird little self and it’s endearing.
You’re confident, you’re happy and you’re loved.
#i wanna ⭐️ve#@n0r3xia#starv1ng#ana trigger#ana rant#ed not ed sheeran#ed disorder#tw ed diet#tw ana diary#ugw imagine
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The Better Sister
@flashfictionfridayofficial
My older sister came over for the first time since Dad's funeral. We talked about important things over the phone but we stopped being close by the time she moved to the city with a lucrative career lined up for her. It was strange seeing her outside of a holiday, and when I asked her why she visited, she said it was something to do while her boyfriend visited his own family. She helped me pick up branches scattered in the yard after a nasty storm.
"So," Cheryl said in between the cleaning, "have you kept up with painting?"
"A bit," I replied with little energy. "Not many people here really want what I make. And it's hard to get anyone on the Internet unless I'm a great marketer."
She nodded and added, "You know, Dana, if you're looking for extra money, you could go into programming like me."
"I tried, but it's too complicated, even with beginner courses. I just wish there was more stuff here where I could... I don't know, feel successful and happy."
"Honestly, that probably won't happen if you stay here. If you want my opinion, Dana, you should put more faith in yourself. Otherwise, you'll be stuck here feeling miserable."
I don't know why I was so mad at her for that. It wasn't wrong, but how she said it, like it was so obvious. Maybe things were just easier when she was the smarter and prettier one and didn't get why I might've struggled more. I just wish she helped me more before she left. I grit my teeth and put on my best face.
"Maybe. I do try, though. I recently got a raise at my job despite the headache it's giving me, haha."
"That's good to show some ambition. Glad to see you coming out of your shell. Looks like we're done anyway so let's get back inside."
"Okay, but it's not looking good. Mom got worse with the hoarding after Dad passed away."
"God. Is she home now?"
"No, out shopping. Kinda glad because we can just relax."
We walked on a clear path surrounded by mountains of CDs, books, movies, tools, food cans, magazines, newspapers, and other items that merged into towering mounds of junk. I cleared up some room on the couch as we channel surfed. Mom's cat Robert Scritchum jumped up to greet Cheryl with needy affection as she made voices and messed with his fur. I'd feel more like that if we got him while the house and our mental states were in better condition.
We ended up watching a bad b-movie about an alien failing to kill a bird with a laser gun to keep things breezy. The mindless movie just made me overthink about the future. Would things be alright if I moved out and left Mom alone? Should I stay and try to tough out my issues?
I just wasn't cut out for this dilemma with my mental and physical issues. Every view into the window hurt my heart no matter what I chose. Cheryl would've handled this better. She was always the smarter one. The flow of overwhelming thoughts burrowed into my brain with an absentminded "It should've been you who stayed."
I looked back at the TV and then at Cheryl. She heard me say that aloud.
"You want me to stay here?"
My face burned and my gut sank. That wasn't supposed to spill out and now she'd think I was guilt tripping her.
"I didn't mean it, it just came out!"
Cheryl's face was hard to read and fixed on me. Her shoulders relaxed and put her hand on mine to calm my nerves. My heart rate slowed and I could breathe and think easier.
"I just had a bunch of thoughts and one of them accidentally came out. It's like... You were the responsible, rational sister. Thinking about the future of the house and Mom and your career. You would've handled that way better than me. I'm trying, it's just..."
Tears rolled without realizing it, and her hand held mine tighter, and she looked at me with gentle eyes.
"Hey, Dana, look. I appreciate what you're saying, but it's not that simple. I just can't come back to this life. Not with how I've been living now. And you shouldn't have to burden yourself with this. I don't know the right answer for you, but you've got a lot of resilience to put up with a lot of this and still be you. No matter what, Mom and I will support whatever you choose. Just please don't stress too much about it."
I sniffled and leaned over to hug her, trying to not get my runny nose on her shirt. I don't know how much of that solved anything but it was nice to just say it and to hear her without judgement. Whatever tension there was went away as we continued watching the cheesy movie and could laugh more freely. For the first time in years, we felt like sisters again.
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They really do that! Every guy i know that’s straight just stands in the middle of the room and pretends they don’t care but they do. And i will happily report back. We finished s1 yesterday morning and he wants to start s2 later today. So far my favorite is he loves Emmett and even likes ted, he loves Brian but hates everyone for guilt tripping him with Gus, he absolutely HATED David, was pissed at Michael half of the season and would audibly groan when he’d be whiney. Around episode 10 he paused it and went ‘dear whoever is up there pleaseeeeeeeeee let this moron get his ass handed to him by the end of the season. Just one good punch please!’ And then he quickly added like a PS ‘But not in a hateful way.’ And then when the inevitable in 1x22 happened, he screamed on top of his lungs ‘NOOOOOOO THAT’S THE WRONG WHITE BOY!!!!!!!!! I MEANT THE OTHER ONEEEE AND ALSO NOT LIKE THAT FUCKS SAKE’ he then proceeded to stare at the blank screen after the episode for quite a bit and looked at me horrified and said ‘….well shit, i need a cigarette.’ And I wish i was joking when I say that he sat outside on a chair for like 10 minutes quietly until out of nowhere I heard him talking to someone on the phone and he said ‘but you don’t understand! They love each other and now I think he’s dead! DEAD! DO YOU KNOW WHAT DEAD MEANS?! D-E-A-D! GONE POOF PLAYING WITH THE ANGELS!’ Followed up with a quiet ‘no mom, i am not being dramatic’
I would just like the jury to know that this man is 36 years old.
DEAR SWEET ANON! The giggle that escaped my mouth has terrified everyone in hearing distance (my dog).
Your brother and your description of him is giving me life on this random Wednesday.
His love of Emmett is Good and Correct. As I get older, my appreciation of Ted grows. Also, as I get older (and closer to David’s age), I see just how toxic he is. Like he really wanted to sugar baby Michael - he was so controlling and really about how he made more money and had a good job was all “don’t worry honey, just stay home and look pretty.”
The guilt tripping over Gus is so real - is Brian a sperm donor and Melanie the second parent or is he the father? I know, of course, that kids can be raised with 3 parents but it seems like he got snookered with the promise of being the sperm donor and wound up with the weight of expectations that he is a full third parent. Except when it doesn’t suit the moms.
WAIT UNTIL YOUR BROTHER GETS TO 301. He’ll get his punch.
His reaction to 122 is absolutely right. “They love each other and now I think he’s dead” is the bittersweetness of 122. Staring at the screen and then just sitting for several minutes is the only way one can process 122. And no, Anon’s mom, he is not being dramatic. One can never be too dramatic about 122.
Please return and let us know how he responds to 201…
#ask winderlylandchime#dear sweet anon#queer as folk#a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023
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quick question, will blood moon ever be a paid game? don't get me wrong, it's absolutely worth the Big Bucks™️, and if i could donate or support in any way other than aggressive fanboying through anon asks, i would in a heartbeat. i'm just currently not what you'd call ballin, the student life's a bitch when you just wanna save for a binder but birthdays come tposing your way /lh
so yeah in conclusion, genuinely just curious and i'm not in any way trying to guilt trip you into making it a free to play if that's not what you were planning from the start, have a nice day!! ive sent so many asks and youve been so so sweet each time so thanks :]
Yes. I'm sharing the draft for free in the hope of getting more feedback, but ultimately the final product will have a price tag. I hope you understand and I totally get it if you can't fork out any money right now. 100%. I know that feeling. I've been there.
Thanks so much for all your support. I really appreciate it. 💙
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BnHA 323: “I Don’t Know How to Explain to You That You Should Care About Other People”
Previously on BnHA: Kacchan was all, “Izuku, I’m sorry.” Bakugou Stans were all, “[sobs for a week straight and tearfully awards him the Nobel Prize for character development].” Deku was all, “[faints in Kacchan’s arms].” Iida was all, “[trying to decide if Ochako genuinely tried to kill him a few minutes ago].” Horikoshi was all, “NO TIME FOR HUGS WE MUST GET BACK TO UA.” The civilians holed up at U.A. were all, “WE TOOK A VOTE AND DECIDED THAT WE’RE ALL GOING TO BE JERKS ABOUT THIS AND MAKE A BIG FUSS ABOUT YOU LETTING DEKU BACK INTO THE SCHOOL.” Deku was all “[stands there looking like he expected nothing less and breaking my heart more and more with each passing moment].” Ochako was all, “that does it, looks like I’m gonna have to do something about this... next chapter, that is.”
Today on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal is all “I just want you all to know that I spent nine million dollars turning U.A. into a giant Battleship-style grid that can burrow underground and zoom around in a giant subway maze because Horikoshi lacks a grounded understanding of both civil engineering and economics.” Back in the present day, Jeanist is all, “EVERYONE TAKE HEED, MY COMRADES AND I HAVE DEEMED IT EXPEDIENT TO CONVEY THIS AUSPICIOUS YOUTH BACK TO THIS STRONGHOLD. WE ANTICIPATE THAT WE MAY DEPEND UPON YOUR GOODWILL AND ACQUIESCENCE TO THESE TERMS.” The civilians were all, “NO.” Ochako was all, “EMPATHY, MOTHERFUCKERS, DO YOU SPEAK IT?!” The civilians were all, “oh shit.” Anyway so Ochako is a giant badass, but I’m a little worried that she’s going to get struck by lightning. Please come down from there.
so before we start this chapter, I would just like to apologize for having not posted the ch 321 recap yet, and would like to reassure everyone, and especially Iida who is staring at me with Sad Wobbly Guilt Trip Eyes, that I will get to that as soon as I can
OMG FLASHBACK??
yes please Horikoshi please show us more of class 1-A and their Deku intervention strategy jam sessions
oh dear
Iida you are too pure and good for this cruel world. [sprays the U.A. civilians with a water bottle] NO. BAD CIVILIANS! NO OSTRACIZING SCARED AND EXHAUSTED CHILDREN IN THE HOUSE
EXCUSE ME RAT PRINCIPAL WHAT’S WITH THESE MIXED MESSAGES
???
RAT PRINCIPAL: he’s free to return to us at any time!!
ALSO RAT PRINCIPAL: but it’s too risky for him to return to us
?? ??????? ?????????????????????
so now he’s going on about how strong the U.A. Barrier is, and how it’s comparable to the defensive capabilities of Tartarus. this would have sounded a lot more impressive before chapter 297 lol
OH!!!! HELLO, WHAT’S THIS!!!
A TIMELY CALLBACK TO A CERTAIN MYSTERIOUS EVENT WHICH HASN’T BEEN REFERENCED SINCE USJ? [U.A. TRAITOR MUSIC INTENSIFIES]
so now Rat Principal says he upgraded U.A.’s security systems with his own “modifications”, whatever the fuck that means. I mean look, I’ve been saying for a long time now that U.A. is the best place for everyone to hole up, don’t get me wrong. but that was mostly on account of there not being any other practical alternatives. but you’re making it sound like you figured out a way to actually make it Decay-proof or some wild shit like that
-- hold up, DID YOU ADD A FORCE FIELD. DID YOU TRICK THIS SCHOOL OUT WAKANDA-STYLE YOU CRAZY MARSUPIAL. HOLY SHIT. because that would actually be perfect
LMAO
WHAT KIND OF GALAXY BRAIN BULLSHIT. “NAH THERE’S NO NEED FOR A FORCE FIELD, LET’S JUST PUT WHEELS ON IT”
oh okay so the whole campus is basically capable of burrowing itself underground. that’s insane lol I wonder how they pulled that off. probably got poor Cementoss working overtime
blah blah blah so basically the entire campus is split into a grid and each section of the grid is capable of its own independent movement. lol this is just the Merone Base from KHR. you thought no one would notice this casual plagiarism ten years after the fact, but YOU UNDERESTIMATED YOUR AUDIENCE, HORIKOSHI
“joke’s on you imma just lampshade it” WELL ALL RIGHT THEN
“look at me I’m so fucking self-aware” fucking swear to god. I can’t believe this man is my favorite mangaka of all time smdh
“excuse me, I wasn’t finished describing all the rest of this bullshit yet,” Rat Principal breaks in impatiently. “we also added a steel wall all around the underground of the campus that’s 3000 steel plates thick. that’s fifteen fucking meters of solid fucking steel just fyi. and if anyone fucks around with any part of it the defense system will activate immediately! and also all of the plates are independently motorized, whatever the fuck that means!! in conclusion you’re gonna need a fucking tower crane to suspend all of your disbelief by the time I’m through with this paragraph”
“also Shiketsu is almost as reinforced as U.A. but not quite because we still had to make sure we were better.” but of course. and apparently the two schools are connected via a secret tunnel as Hagakure mentioned earlier
LSDKFJLSDKJFLK
“WAIT WHAT” LMAO YOU HEARD HIM, NOW INASA CAN VISIT YOU BOTH IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND TELL YOU ALL ABOUT THE WEIRD DREAM HE HAD. GOD BLESS YOU HORIKOSHI
(ETA: moment of appreciation for Shouto and Katsuki having the same thought at the same time and making Knowing Eye Contact and saying the exact same thing out loud in perfect unison like the best friends they are. what a blessed day.)
so Tokoyami is all “but wait if you engineered all this shit all the way back during the Band arc how did you even know that Tomura’s quirk awakening would become a thing, Horikoshi -- uh, I mean, Principal Nezu”
and Rat Principal is all “lol idk”
“basically I just woke up one morning and was all ‘say, you know what this school really needs? a fifteen-meter-thick underground steel wall, and the ability to break up into little pieces that individually zoom around wherever the fuck they want.’ jesus christ. lol if money and common sense were apparently no obstacle why didn’t you just teleport U.A. to the fucking moon or something. maybe I should shut up before I given him any ideas
dsfaelkjldkjgl
you heard it here first, folks, all of this cost a grand total of nine million U.S. dollars. well technically it cost “more than” nine million dollars. never has that distinction been more important lmao. are we sure this barrier was really made of steel and not cardboard? who the hell sold it to them, Ea-Nasir??
this is my favorite manga series of all time. yes I am ashamed
“in conclusion please do your best to reach Deku-kun” SO WHAT WAS ALL THAT NONSENSE ABOUT IT BEING TOO RISKY THEN. anyway thank you for this super informative and edifying flashback, Horikoshi. I will cherish it always. I don’t even want to read another translation of this absurdity lmao, there’s something special about it just the way it is. pretty sure Horikoshi just had a cracked out fever dream one night and transferred it to the pages of the manga verbatim
anyway so back to the unruly mob
not their finest moment. please excuse me while I cover poor Deku’s ears and give him a good shoosh pap
oh wow the parents are out here too
is Mitsuki trying to hold Inko back?? that’s the last thing this fandom needs right now is more Mitsuki discourse fffwlkjs. and even Jiroudad, scientifically proven to be the best dad in all of BnHA, is just standing there silently looking vaguely unhappy. way to rise to the moment you guys
MONOMA
so this settles it for me that Aizawa is not at UA. I know a lot of people have been wondering about his whereabouts, and if I had to wager a guess it would be that something happened with Shirakumo/Kurogiri. I can’t think of anything else -- even the loss of an eye and a limb -- that would keep him from his kids at a time like this
anyway but this is excellent Monoma content right here though. I love that he apparently adopted Eri after a single interaction with her. also WHERE IS SHINSOU DAMMIT. THE PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW
and Kouta’s there too looking like he wants to run over to Deku but Ragdoll won’t let him :/
it’s gotta be pretty upsetting for him to see his hero like this and not having anyone stand up for him. [taps megaphone] IS THIS THING ON. OKAY YEAH IT SEEMS TO BE WORKING. AHEM. PAGING URARAKA OCHAKO. GONNA NEED YOU TO GET OVER HERE ALREADY AND MAKE THAT BIG DRAMATIC SPEECH WHICH YOU ARE CLEARLY DYING TO MAKE. IF YOU DON’T DO IT SOON I’M GONNA HAVE TO STEP IN, AND YOU REALLY DON’T WANT ME TO DO THAT SINCE MY SPEECH WILL NOT BE VERY GOOD OR INSPIRING, AND WILL PROBABLY JUST CONSIST OF “HELLO, YOU ARE ALL STUPID, PLEASE SHUT UP AND GO AWAY”
so now Mic is telling them to calm down. at least someone’s speaking up here, geez
OH MY GOD
MY MAN JEANIST OUT HERE DOING WHAT HE DOES BEST: MAKING EVERYONE FEEL GUILTY AND JUDGED
OH MY GOD HE IS GIVING SUCH A LONG AND BORING SPEECH LMAO IS YOUR STRATEGY TO PUT THEM ALL TO SLEEP OR WHAT
truly in awe of this man’s ability to take messages which could easily be conveyed in ELI5-speak, and stubbornly convert them into incomprehensible language the likes of which you need a graduate degree in order to understand
“hey guys, so originally our plan was to use Deku as bait for the villains, but that didn’t really work and also we realized it was kinda dumb and was probably gonna get him killed, so we brought him back here instead.” was that really so hard, Jeanist. also are we all really just gonna sit back here and watch Jeanist take full credit for Bakugou’s plan just like that lmao
(ETA:
WHERE DID ENDEAVOR GO AND WHO IS THIS DIABOLICAL MASTER OF DISGUISE. lol I genuinely didn’t notice this because I was too busy digging through thesauruses trying to rewrite Jeanist’s speech; many thanks to @class1akids for pointing it out and making my day immeasurably better. take it easy there Dick Tracy.)
“anyway so please stop being dicks and let him fucking rest so he can save all your ungrateful asses” what an impassioned and inspiring plea. time to see if the masses will listen to reason
narrator: they did not listen to reason
oh my god finally Ochako is doing something. YEAH OCHAKO WOOOO SHOW THEM HOW IT’S DONE
hmm
this entire chapter is truly and utterly nonsensical to me lol
(ETA: on my second readthrough I’m fucking dying at how she stole the megaphone right out of Mic’s hand lmao. and how Kacchan is all “fuck yeah nothing I appreciate more than some quality fucking larceny.”)
oh I see she was jumping on top of the main building so as to scream down at them all more impressively
“ANYWAY DEKU IS PRETTY COOL ACTUALLY, YOU GUYS ARE JUST MEAN” couldn’t have said it better myself Ochako
lol uh
gotta say I did not have “Ochako reveals the secret of OFA to the entire U.A. Citizen Clown Parade” on my bingo card for this week. it’s a bold strategy cotton let’s see if it pays off
SDLFKJSL
“NO, SERIOUSLY, HAVE YOU LOOKED AT HIM YOU GUYS. YOU THINK HE LIKES RUNNING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A RUSTED OIL DRUM?? HE DID THAT FOR YOU YOU UNGRATEFUL SLOBS”
so she is basically explaining the entire Deku Angst arc to them and explaining what a good and selfless protagonist Deku is, YES, PREACH
OMG IT’S THE GIGANTIC FOX LADY
not to insinuate anything, but what exactly were you doing standing out here with the hysterical mob, Gigantic Fox Lady? you’re better than that
-- KACCHAN SIGHTING!!
sdlkfjl. thanks for weighing in with that helpful and important observation. where have you been for the last five minutes. were you asleep. was it Jeanist’s speech
never mind, now he’s yelling at the civilians so I instantly forgive him
THE FUTURE NUMBER ONE HERO, EVERYONE. THANK YOU, THANK YOU. HE’LL BE HERE ALL WEEK
“anyway so I’m just going to end the chapter here” lmao seventeen pages truly do go by so fast. at least he didn’t try to force in a cliffhanger at the end this time. dare I say, growth
so I guess the civilians are either gonna have a Kamino and/or Fukuoka-esque moment where they remember how to be decent people and apologize to this poor young man, or else they’ll remain unpersuaded, and so Kacchan will have to knock a few of their heads around until they become more inclined to be reasonable. either option is fine by me lol
#bnha 323#uraraka ochako#rat principal#class 1-a#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha
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welcome to another "I wrote this at work ignore the typos" situation featuring content in the little teaser for s3
ao3
"Michael Guerin with a cup of tea. Interesting."
"Bettering myself with soothing beverages," Michael said, leaning back in his chair as he looked up at Alex. He still felt a little off kilter, but he had no intention of guilt tripping Alex. It was a work in progress. He was a work in progress.
"Is that a quote from self proclaimed life coach Isobel Evans?" Alex asked, cocking his head to the side and smiling. Michael felt dizzy with it. It'd been so long without that fucking smile.
"How'd you know?" Michael asked, trying to keep the conversation light and not let it drift to an antagonistic place. He was good at that. Unfortunately, he was less good at keeping that at bay. "Where's the boyfriend?" Work in progress.
"He couldn't stick around, had to get to a meeting. He just met me at the bus stop," Alex said. Michael nodded and only then let his eyes drift away from his face, giving him a quick once over and tried not to be greedy with it. He still had his bags. "Is this seat taken?"
"Yeah," Michael said, casual as possible because Alex deserved that, "Saving it for this guy I met a few years back. You might know him. Around my height, dark hair, nice biceps, used to be in the army, killer thighs–literally, I almost suffocated me once."
"Shut up," Alex laughed, sitting across from him, "And I wasn't in the army."
"Same evil."
"Fair enough," Alex said, clasping his hands together and leaning forward, "Man, what's a guy gotta do around here to get a drink?"
Michael absolutely did not get his hopes up about this.
"Just sit there and look pretty," Michael said, pushing himself to his feet.
He'd been working a little harder and getting Sanders to make the place look a bit nicer in the front so new comers would show up, both resulting in everyone making more money. It was the most money Michael had ever had saved up before and he barely knew what to even do with it. He'd never wanted it before, never wanted to act like he was here to stay, but now it was there and now he could pay for Alex's drink.
He allowed himself to feel a little good about himself for that.
He order a medium vanilla latte, extra vanilla and an extra shot of expresso like he'd seen Alex order when they were a younger. Before he was a complete fuck up. Before when ordering anything but black coffee felt rebellious. And he paid for him for the first time. And he absolutely wasn't prideful bringing it back.
The look on Alex's face said he was also aware that this was the first time he could afford to buy him something so trivial, but he wasn't going to say anything because he was Alex. He took a sip as Michael sat across from him again and he smiled with a tiny bit of foam gracing his top lip. Michael felt his chest constricting with some twisted sort of pride and he refused to let himself be embarrassed by it.
"Thank you," Alex said.
"No problem."
Then they lapsed into silence, drinking their respective drinks and staring. Alex never turned his head away like he usually did; Michael never broke the silence like he usually did. None of it was awkward or uncomfortable or tense. It was just... having non-alcoholic drinks with someone he loved in whatever sense of the word he could.
It was nice. It was easy. It was something so completely different than Michael knew what to do with.
He craved more.
"So, do you need a ride to your house so you don't have to walk with all that?" Michael asked, definitely not mentioning that Forrest at the very least could've taken it. Granted, there's a chance he offered and Alex declined, which would be very much like Alex, but still. If he can kiss him, he can help with his bags.
"Depends. Are you willing to drive out to the middle of nowhere?"
"So that was a sold sign," Michael said. Alex took a deep breath and nodded.
"Yeah. It was a nice house, but it didn't really feel like home, you know? And after everything..."
"No, I get it," Michael said, nodding, "So where are you staying now?"
"Old Valenti hunting cabin. My cut of the inheritance and what I'm getting for selling my house is gonna be used on making it decent," Alex said.
"And amping up the security system," Michael added. Alex grinned and nodded.
"And amping up the security system."
"Well, it's my day off, so I can definitely take you," Michael said, not saying he took the day off specifically to meet Alex. That wasn't necessary information.
"You don't have to."
"What if I want to?" Michael asked. Alex looked at him, still smiling but he was clearly a little wary. "Just let me help out. I'm even going to try to not make you feel bad about the boyfriend."
"Oh, well, thank you so much for your efforts," Alex said sarcastically, but his tone was light and his smile was even more so, "But you really don't mind?"
"Alex, it's the least I can do," Michael said. It sounded weird in his voice, but it felt right. Alex seemed to agree if the look on his face said anything. Michael was more than a little proud of himself for not second guessing himself or assuming the worst.
Maybe he actually did do some growing.
"Okay then. Let's go."
Having Alex in his truck again didn't feel real. He was giddy in a way he hadn't felt in awhile and the fact that his bags were on the floor and not between them made that feeling skyrocket. Alex was comfortable with him. Or, at least, he seemed to be.
"Did you have fun?" Michael asked. Alex huffed a laugh.
"Well, I mean, I was doing dirty work, so not really. Forrest met me a couple times but I never wanted him to stay too long, was way too dangerous," Alex said, turning in his seat to face him.
"When I came out there with Kyle, you let me stay awhile," Michael said. He wasn't bragging. Absolutely not. He was simply useful for the task at hand and Kyle had to get back to work. Them eating take out on a hotel room floor and staying up too late was just convenient, a secret little addition to the trip.
"Yeah, but I trust you not to get killed by accident," Alex said, "Forrest had a good childhood. He's not at all aware of his surroundings like you are."
"Good for him," Michael said, readjusting his grip on the steering wheel. Alex may or may not have noticed.
"Also," he said slowly, "I'm kinda getting spoiled with the telekinesis thing, I'm not gonna lie."
Michael bit the inside of his cheek and tried not to be unnecessarily happy with that.
"Well if you ever need to make use of it, I'm your man," Michael said. Alex hummed in response–Michael couldn't tell if it was an acknowledgment or agreement.
It was around a 45 minute drive to the Valenti hunting cabin and the trip there was a bunch of small, winding, hand-made paths. You couldn't find it if you didn't know it was there. It was perfect for Alex.
Michael helped him get his bags inside and took in the fact that most of the stuff that had been in his house wasn't present. The furniture was broken in and there were a few boxes around, but not enough to hold everything from his house.
"I need a change," Alex said, going to the breaker box to turn the electricity on, "I thought that when I came back the first time that would be my big change, but I just did more of the same shit. So this is a real change."
"Sounds like it'd be good for you," Michael agreed.
"Yeah," Alex sighed, looking around. His eyes eventually landed on Michael again. "Do you have to go?"
"No, not unless you want me to," Michael said. Alex nodded.
"Move some boxes for me, telekinesis boy?" he asked. Michael grinned.
"Sure."
The spent what felt like two hours rearranging and unpacking and cleaning, Alex encouraging him to show off in a way that felt so ridiculously good. Everything about this was good. Spending time with him without expectation and tension and time limits.
He loved him more than his body had space for.
"Michael!" Alex said, immediately followed by a laugh, "You're going to break something!"
"I won't, have faith," Michael said, pulsing with the attention, "And if I do, I'll fix it."
He twisted his wrist, manuvering the fully put together bed frame through the door with his mind. It bumped into the door frame once or twice, but Alex just laughed and lightly scolded him.
Later, once they did what they could and got settled, Michael found himself on Alex's back porch with cans of coke in hand instead of beer.
"I love the view," Michael said.
"There's deer that'll get close if you're quiet," Alex said, "You'll have to sit with me to see them sometime."
"Yeah, whenever you'll have me," Michael said.
"Whenever you want," Alex responded. He sounded like he meant it.
Him meaning it didn't stop his phone from lighting up, didn't stop the way Alex's face closed off, didn't stop the way he sighed and locked it back. He took a long sip of his drink before he spoke.
"Forrest is on his way," Alex said. Michael shifted in his seat and nodded.
"So I should go."
"Do you have work tomorrow?" Alex asked instead of saying leave, instead of saying stay.
"Yep, bright and early."
"Okay," Alex said, "If I bring my truck up there in the morning, do I get privileges where I can sit with you in the back while you look over it and tell me what I need to fix after it sitting in my yard for nine months?"
Michael swallowed the lump that rose in his throat. He was leaving, he had to go because it wasn't his place to stay right now. But there was a promise of tomorrow. Of spending more time together just because.
The privilege of it, Alex said.
"Absolutely," Michael said, standing up, "I'll squeeze you in."
"Cool. I appreciate it," Alex said, looking up at him with a smile, "And I appreciate you helping me out today. Made all of that a lot easier."
"Not a problem," he said, "So I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Wait," Alex said quickly, getting himself to his feet and coming closer. Without much of a warning about what exactly was coming, Alex wrapped his arms around his neck. Michael hugged him back easily.
Alex squeezed him; Michael squeezed back.
"I'm so glad you're back," Michael whispered against him.
"I've gotta come home at some point, right?" Alex whispered back. Michael nodded.
They held on for longer than they should.
"Alright," Alex said after awhile, letting go with a reluctance Michael wasn't so unfamiliar with it ached, "I'll see you in the morning. I'll bring food."
Michael didn't like to get his hopes up.
He decided not to be scared this time.
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Praise be to God
From the age of five I was instructed to take care of my Mum and Sister.
Why would anyone ask a child to take on such responsibility?
I wasn't old enough to question the instruction, so did my best to adhere.
You see my Dad died when I was five, and at that time, my baby sister was barely one.
My Mum was constantly in and out of the hospital, managing an inherited red blood cell disorder.
I had no choice but to grow up, and do so fast.
Becoming responsible at such a young age was a gift and a curse.
I didn't get a chance to enjoy my childhood, or my teenage years because I wasn't considered a child.
Everyone who could, took advantage.
That being said, all my experiences prepared me for the many challenges I've been through and overcome.
I've always been wise beyond my years, and felt a sense of duty to care for my loved ones, before myself.
However, now I've established healthy boundaries.
I do things out of love not obligation.
I don't allow anyone to emotionally abuse me or guilt trip me.
I don't give anyone my hard earned money whenever they ask because they've been irresponsible with their finances.
I don't allow anyone into my space if their energy isn't right or aligned with mine.
I don't wait for anyone's appreciation, applause or approval, I don't need it.
I don't hold malice but where necessary I will keep my distance.
I don't have any expectations so don't get disappointed, just pleasantly surprised.
I've stop holding people to my standards, I know we are all different, and have different paths.
I've let go of all my hurt and anger
I've realeased all my past pain and embrace my present, while remaining optimistic about the future.
I love myself first
I prioritise my needs first and don't apologise for doing so
I'm focused on my mental, physical and spiritual growth and that's it.
I'm blessed and highly favoured
I let God guide my footsteps and walk confidently moving forward.
Praise be to God - Amen
Author - @iameriwa
Photography - @xander.foto
Model - @attrvcion
Hair - @tossedtresses
Stylist - @talyseanir_
#blackgirlmagic#bossbabe#melanin#blackart#african#beautiful#black beauty#black queen#purple rain#self reflection#melanin power#brown skin girl#afrocentric#afrofuturism#afrofantasy#natural hair#afro puff#braids#black women deserve better#childhood trauma#black female writers#black femininity#be inspired#god is my refuge#still i rise#black poetry#spirituality#at peace#praise god
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hopelessly devoted [1]
Pairing : Sebastian Stan x reader│regency au
Summary : When Y/N Brighton finds herself suddenly married to a strange older man, she thinks her life is completely derailed. Wha happens when she starts to get close to him?
Warnings : slow burn, age gap, fluff, a tad bit of angst, a little injury but not much
Word Count : 3.6k
Notes : I'm sorry it took so long for me to get this out! I hope y'all like it! I rewrote it twice just so I could get it as perfect as I could. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated! I didn't expect to be writing a Part 2 BUT it should be up very soon :)
Also let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!
here's what I listened to while I wrote :)
find part 2 here!
As a young child, Y/N Brighton had imagined that she would have the most lavish of weddings. She had imagined walking down the aisle in the arms of her father, smiling at relatives as they watched her join her husband to be. She had hoped for a grand exchange of vows with him, ones that would leave the crowd in tears. She had even hoped for a choir to sing her in and hoped for petals to be showered on her and her beau as they left the chapel for their extravagant and much needed honeymoon. What she hadn’t imagined was this.
Y/N slowly walked down the aisle, with no one by her side. The chapel she was in was dark and the seats, instead of being filled with family, stood empty. There were no flowers in sight and the mood in the room was of sadness and melancholy. Her hands were clasped around nothing, a bouquet she had desired being absent. She quietly stood still in front of the man she was to marry, seeing but a stranger and not someone she had grown to love.
Viscount Brighton was a man of many flaws, just as any other human being. He loved to drink, he loved to smoke but most of all he loved to gamble. Many times he had won money, bringing it home to spend on his daughter and wife but many more times, he had lost and come home significantly more empty handed than he had been when he left. Viscountess Brighton had found herself one night, sitting in the seat of her husband’s desk. It felt as if smoke was steaming out of her ears as frustration built up inside of her. In front of her, there were piles of paper and in her hands she clutched the newest additions of the pile. There were bills upon bills upon bills, her eyes nearly popping out of her head as she added up the amount of money that her husband owed. What they had left in their accounts was almost nothing. Even the dowry belonging to their only daughter was gone.
She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, as if to stop the tears from flowing out.
“What have you done?” She seethed at her husband, who stood guilt ridden at the door of his own office.
“No w-worries dearest,” he began. “We can always sell a few things and we’ll be fine!” If looks could kill, the poor man would have been 6 feet deep in the ground.
“With the amount of money we have due, we’ll have to sell the house and everything in it!” The viscountess cried. Shaking her head, she dropped the pieces of paper on the desk and stormed out.
“How could you?” She asked once they were laying in bed. The lights were blown out as they both lay with their backs to the other. He could not answer her question. How could he? That’s the thing, he didn’t. He clutched onto the sheets of the bed as tears threatened to spill from his eyes, the guilt was beginning to feel heavy on his chest. He prayed for a miracle, he prayed for someone to come pull them out of the hole he had pushed his family into.
Y/N didn’t really know why there had been visits from a stranger to her house. She had been introduced to him briefly. His eyes were electric blue and he had a beard that was full but not too big or fluffy. His hair was a beautiful shade of brown and was always brushed to perfection. He always gave her tight lipped smiles and there was an eery feeling of pity behind each one. She couldn't help but feel attracted to him, despite him being almost the same age as her father. It was a little innocent crush. It didn’t really mean anything.
Lord Sebastian Stan was in search of a wife. He was the most eligible bachelor on the market, though he was quite older than most of the girls in age of marriage. He had never really planned to marry. He had gotten close many times but had never found the right woman to fill the seemingly gaping hole in his heart. If it hadn’t been for a trip to his native Romania, he wouldn’t have bothered to begin a search. He had gone to visit his grandmother, she was very much expecting he would finally have a maiden at his side. She had explained that if he didn’t marry, there was a possibility that his title and home would be stripped from him. He remembered how he panicked, not so much for the loss of his title but where would he go without his home? Where would he live then? It was as if fate was on his side when he had run into the hysterical Viscount Brighton. The poor man was desperate, searching for anything that would help him with the sinking boat he found himself on. Sebastian didn’t jump at the deal immediately. He couldn’t help but feel for the young girl who was essentially being sold away. But after much thought, he spoke to the older man and agreed to marry his daughter.
“Lord Stan has agreed on marrying you.” The viscount said to Y/N. It had been days after the agreement was finally settled.
“He needs a bride in order to keep his estate and seeing as how you are in the age of marriage, he has agreed to marry you even though you are without a dowry.” Her mother said, trying to be gentle with the words she said to her daughter.
Y/N simply looked at them with tears in her eyes. They had sat her down in the office where her mother had been sitting only a few nights ago.
“He said he will help the family with whatever we need in exchange for your hand in marriage.”
And that was that. Now Y/N found herself standing face to face to Sebastian as he whispered the words of I do. She watched as he stood there expressionless, staring down at the floor. His eyebrows were furrowed, as the priest recited the marital words to her. She was so caught up in his features that she almost missed her cue to agree to the marriage and echo him with the words of I do. Each slipped on a simple wedding band on their ring finger. There was a sigh of relief ringing out behind her as her family officially joined with him. Now they would not have to live out on the street, they were saved.
The ride to Sebastian’s estate was quiet. The only sound that was heard was the crunch of carriage’s wheel on the ground and the subtle sound of the pairs breathing. As she had expected, there was no celebration of the marriage after the ceremony, no shower of wedding rice or petals on them. There was only the silent signing of papers and the quiet goodbyes from her family. Here Y/N took the time to really look at him. He had a slight crease etched between his eyebrows. He had a mole on the left side of his forehead and his lashes didn’t quite curl up but still had a slight wisp to them. His eyes looked darker, they were like the deep colour of the ocean. They were a pool that, in a different circumstance, she would be more than willing to swim in.
“We don’t have to lay together,” Sebastian began, breaking the silence along with her long stare. “We each have our own rooms, so you don’t have to worry about anything. The maids will have everything ready by the time we get home.” Y/N nodded, taking in the information. Part of her knew he wouldn’t force her to consummate the wedding, he didn’t seem like that type of person but part of her still wanted the chance to sleep next to him, to get to know the person she was to spend the rest of her life with.
They soon arrived. The night was warm and the stars shone brightly above them. If they had wanted, a stroll through his vast gardens wouldn't have been a very romantic way to start the night. The mansion was lit up from the inside and Y/N couldn't help but find herself in awe of it. They had come through a gate and down a long road in order to reach the house. It had three towers with the rest of the building having been built around them. There was a grand balcony right above the main entrance. It was all very green, trees and bushes surrounding the mansion.
“Welcome Home, Lord and Lady Stan” The head housekeeper said, ushering them in from the night. Many of the staff stood on the stairs leading up to the front doors of the home. They kindly nodded at them as they slowly walked in. Y/N was shown to her room, just across the hall from Sebastian’s.
“If you need anything, don’t be scared to give us a shout.” The housekeeper told Y/N. Sebastian had followed behind, making his way to his room. He nodded politely in her direction before he slipped through his door, closing it behind him.
Y/N stood there for a second before letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in. She made her way into her room. It was big. Bigger than the one at her family home. The walls were a pale blue and the room had golden accents, with more variations of blue scattered around. There was a small table on one side of the room with a single armchair. On the table was the most elegant and beautiful tea set she had ever seen. When she went to grab it, it was warm. She poured herself a cup of tea and sat down. She blew on it as steam came up from the cup. She stared at the wall just above her large bed, reflecting once again on how fast the days changed.
It took her a while to acclimate. Sebastian had mostly left her to her own devices, leaving her to roam around the mansion alone. She would get lost every once in a while, asking maids to help her find her way back to her room. She wasn’t prohibited from going anywhere, Sebastian had made that clear to her. This was her home now and he wasn’t going to keep anything from her. She ate breakfast with him every morning, sitting across from him at a long dinner table. He would always mumble a quiet good morning, taking her hand and gently pressing a kiss to it. He couldn't bring himself to ever look into her eyes.
One afternoon, she stumbled upon the library. As a little girl, she would spend her time reading the day away. She never tired of the smell of old books. Her eyes widened when she pushed open the double doors of the library. She hadn't ever seen such a grand collection. There were many many rows of shelves and a flight of stairs that led to a landing where she could sit, surrounded by a few more shelves and a grand window. She spent the next hours exploring the rows, climbing high onto the ladders to reach the books on the highest shelves. She took her time, taking deep breaths and inhaling the comforting smell of the pages. She didn’t recognize many of the books, a lot of them being in Romanian or French. She delicately dragged her fingers on the spines of the books, careful when pulling them out to examine them.
She was searching the shelves for something familiar, when a book caught her eye. The title on the spine was one that she had heard of before but couldn’t quite remember what the story was about. It was high up, too high for her to reach on her own. She looked around the library, seeing if there was anyone that could help her reach the book. She sighed as she realized she was completely alone and would have to climb the ladder that was placed on a set of railings on the front of the shelves. She huffed as she hiked her dress up as much as she could, sticking her feet out to climb onto the first rung of the ladder. She grabbed on tight as she ascended higher and higher. She heaved slightly as she reached the right shelf, only to realize that the book was just barely within her reach. She frowned, trying to pull the book out with the tips of her fingers. Feeling her fingers slip slightly, she moved to the edge of the rung she stood on. A loud creek sounded through the library as she started to feel the ladder tip to the side. Finally grabbing the book, she tried to push herself back onto the ladder, only to jerk farther away from the wall. She felt her feet slip from under her, a panicked squeal coming from her lips. Her eyes squeezed shut as she waited for her body to fall and hit the ground with a painful thud.
Sebastian sat at his desk, looking through his small collection of books, in search for one in particular. His head was full of thoughts, not a single instance of silence. He had also needed time to acclimate to his new housemate. He tried his best to interact with her and to be civil but part of him felt like he was doing it all wrong. He remembered when he had first seen her, roaming her old home. He remembered the cream coloured dress she wore when her father first introduced them, before she was told of her fate. She seemed happier. He tried to make her happy but no matter what he instructed her handmaiden to give her, she still didn’t seem as joyful as she used to be.
In a way, he understood her. She was now living in a house with a strange man that she had only known for a very short time. She had left behind her family and her friends and with no official duties, she spent most of her time by herself. She was alone. He had tried to be husbandly, eating meals with her and bringing her along for strolls in the garden but still even then, she would not come out of her shell.
Over the weeks, he had grown used to hearing her steps through the halls. He had learned to enjoy the little songs she hummed when she accompanied him on walks in the garden. He had started to pick up on her small habits. She would always put her pinky finger under her glass before placing it on the table. She would tug at her left earlobe when she was in deep thought or when she was reading. He usually found himself scolding himself when he watched her walk about the mansion. He couldn’t help but feel like a villain who took any plans for her future away.
He resigned his search, deciding to make his way down to the library. He was in for a long hunt. He walked the empty halls, the only sounds being the clicks of his shoes against the stone floors. He came upon the doors of the library to find them open and saw his wife begin to climb on the many ladders in the library.
He watched as she began to shuffle to the edge of the ladder. Knowing fully well how this would end, he made his way up to her. His heart began to race as the ladder began to creak and tip. With a few long strides, he was at her side. He heard as she held her breath, waiting for the floor to come at her. He grunted as he slid under her, managing to catch her before she collided with the wooden floors.
Before this, he had never touched her before. He hadn’t really taken the time to look at her face. The skin of her bare arms felt smooth against his, the fullness of it feeling soothing. Her chest was heaving, just as his. The adrenaline was coursing fast through their veins. His eyes wandered her face, taking in each freckle and scar. He even noted the lone eyelash that lay on her cheek.
“Sebastian,” She cried, completely surprised. She pulled herself to her feet and out of his arms. She still held tightly to the book in her hand. Sebastian’s hand lingered on her shoulder, a small sign of affection. He looked over her, checking for any afflictions.
“Are you alright?” he asked her. She nodded, catching her breath. She had placed one hand on the shelf, wincing slightly. Her knuckle had bruised, hitting it on the ladder as she fell. Sebastian pulled it from the shelf, cradling it gently.
“You must be more careful,” he warned. She felt her stomach flutter as he stretched her fingers out in his hand. It almost felt like what she was doing was wrong, forbidden.
“I know, I’m sorry.” She mumbled.
“Let’s get you some ice for your hand.” He said and led her to the kitchens. It was only when he sat her down that she realized how dark it had turned outside. It was nearly nightfall. How long had she been in the library? She pulled a face when she felt the coolness of the ice hit her skin. Sebastian was kneeling in front of her, tending at her hand. She watched as he masterfully soothed her wound, even though her pain was almost gone.
“Thank you,” She told him when he looked up at her. “For everything.”
She said everything and she really meant it. Even though she didn’t have the life she expected, her family was being taken care of and that’s really what mattered. He nodded, smiling briefly before standing up. He held his hand out towards her, helping her up to her feet. They then walked up the stairs to their rooms. Stopping, Y/N turned around before opening her door.
“Sebastian” She called out to him, hand on her doorknob. He turned back to her. “Goodnight.” He smiled, his teeth coming into view.
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
They were to attend their first party together. The most elite were going to be in attendance, most of which Sebastian knew. They rode in the carriage in almost complete silence and then proceeded to walk in together. When she let go of his arm, he hadn’t exactly expected her to go to the big group of ladies that stood ion the far side of the room. It had seemed like she recognized some of the ladies waiting there. He stood at the entrance of the ballroom, watching as she interacted with them. She was laughing and smiling. Something he didn’t see often. He admired how the dress she wore clung to her frame. It was a gown he had tailored just for her, and now he couldn't seem to take his eyes off of her. Ever since the incident in the library, he couldn't get her out of his head. Something was blooming in the back of his mind. As music started to play, couples started to make their way to the dance floor.
Y/N watched as the girls from her old friend group excused themselves to dance with their husbands and fiancées. For s second, she had felt like she was still living her old life. She had caught up with her friends for a couple of minutes, the feeling of happiness returning and the sound of laughter escaping her. She wasn’t ungrateful for the grand favour Sebastian was doing in helping her family in return for her hand. She really wasn’t but she felt lonely and as her friends took their leave into the arms of their lovers, she felt the loneliness settle back into her bones. From across the room, her eyes met Sebastian’s. His eyes were more blue than ever. They sent chills down her spine. With a nod, he signalled to her. They met at the edge of the dance floor, joining the rest of the dancers. The tempo of the music was slower and the people around them were moving slowly to the same beat.
Y/N felt her breath hitch in the back of her throat as she locked eyes once again with Sebastian as they danced around each other. She couldn’t put her finger on whatever was growing in the air around them. The movements in the dance had them inches away from each other, never touching but always close. They twirled around the dance floor for what seemed like hours, narrowly missing each other. As songs came and went, Y/N found herself smiling and making jests at her distant husband. It felt like progress from where they had been just nights before.
For a single moment, time felt like it had slowed. Sebastian felt his heart race as he gave Y/N a last twirl and brought her to his chest. She looked up at him with sparkles in her eyes, a smile adorning her face. Many times he had stopped to admire her face but here under the chandelier, surrounded by music he felt like the luckiest man in the world. He felt himself lean down, just barely brushing his lips over hers. But then as quick as their moment had begun, it ended. He felt a bubble pop inside his head as he pulled away from her. Guilt had filled his mind once again as he grumbled and motioned her that it was time to leave. Y/N watched in disbelief as he stormed out of the room and out to the carriages. He had been so close and now he felt miles away.
tags: @lharrietg @carleywhittaker @tonystankschild@headheartbellarke @baebee35 @lady-loki-ren
#sebastian stan#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan smut#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky imagine
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Reminds me of home
Jesper Fahey x reader
words: 5.5k
warnings: mentions of food and animals, reader’s mother is dead, no pronouns used for the reader
A/N: this is my first time writing Jesper, so I struggled with his character and don’t think this is totally right, but I loved writing this too much not to share it with you :) please let me know what you think, thank you!
The sun was setting slowly in the sky, painting orange strikes on a gradually darkening canvas, when Jesper checked the note in his hand one final time, before stepping onto the driveway of the old farmhouse. Around the farmhouse lay a yellow-green grass lawn, with on the left side of the house a little garden with flower beds in full bloom. Behind the house stood the stables and sounds of breezing horses and bleating goats filled the air, along with the lingering scent of drying grass.
The front of the house was covering in shadow, the red bricks and woodwork a tone darker than they would be in the sunlight. Above the front door hung a single lamp, and the flickering of the fire inside of it wasn’t enough to compete with the light of the setting sun.
Jesper groaned as he walked over the driveway to the front door. He wondered what the odds were that he had pulled the farm out of the stack with hideouts.
A week ago, Kaz had come with his plans for a new job. This time the victim was a rich merchant, who had a large estate in the country lands outside of Ketterdam. The merchant’s name was Klaas Rover and he was well-known in wealthy circles.
Just recently, Rover had bought a very pricey DeKappel painting and Kaz had found out that he was moving the painting to his country-estate at the beginning of that week. The basics of the plan had been easy. As long as Rover wasn’t at the house and the painting was, it would be impossible to get it with all the security. But, according to Kaz, there would be one moment of weakness in the security. From the morning Rover would step foot into his mansion to the night he’d fall asleep there, the merchant would want to showcase his painting to everyone who’d want to see it. That night had been the night to strike.
And so had Kaz done. He had set out with a small team; Inej and Jesper had been at his side, followed by two other Dregs, Pieter and Roos. The whole operation had gone according to plan and the painting had come off the wall and outside without a hitch.
That was why it had come as a surprise when Kaz had pulled out three pieces of paper with the notion that they had to hide for a couple of days. Inej had gone with Kaz, Pieter and Roos were together, and Jesper was alone.
‘Remember, you are Thomas van Dijk now,’ Kaz had said before they had parted ways. ‘You are a student and stranded alone after a trip with your fellow students. I know the people there and they will take you in.’
Kaz had disappeared before Jesper could say anything and he had seen no other option than to follow Kaz’s orders.
So now he was standing in front of a farmhouse, silently cursing his friend before knocking on the door.
A broadly built man opened the door and eyed Jesper suspiciously. This one tried to keep his easy posture and smile, but he felt himself grow slightly uncomfortable under the gaze of the man.
‘What do you want?’ he asked brusquely.
Jesper swallowed and his hands automatically reached for his hips, finding nothing but air there as he had hid his revolvers in his bag, figuring it wouldn’t be too great of an entrance. He scratched the back of his head and let out a nervous chuckle.
‘I’m Thomas van Dijk,’ he started, wondering if the man would ever believe him. ‘I uhh… I was out with friends—a break from studying, you see? And this morning when I woke up they were gone and they took all transport… so I was wondering if I could perhaps stay here until they pick me up again?’
The man glanced at Jesper for a while. ‘D’you know farm stuff?’ he then asked.
‘Sure,’ Jesper shrugged, figuring that it couldn’t be all too hard.
‘Alright, then,’ the man nodded and stepped aside to let Jesper in, ‘you can stay here for a few days.’
Jesper sighed relieved and walked into the farmhouse, only realising inside that he had had no plan if this hadn’t worked out.
The interior of the house reminded Jesper of his home in Novyi Zem. The walls were painted in a warm colour green and an old rug lay on the stone floor. On the wall in the little hall hung a portrait of a beautiful woman standing in a field of wildflowers. She had long hair framing her face, falling down in curls around her shoulders. The woman looked like she was in her late thirties, but she had a smile that was ageless.
Jesper followed the man into the next room, which was the living and dining area. There was an open door that led to the kitchen, from where Jesper could smell whatever the man was cooking. Another door probably led to a staircase, Jesper figured by the shape of the little space behind it.
The main room was an extension of the hall. The same green coloured the walls here and more paintings hung on the walls. Jesper recognised the woman in more pictures on the wall, and sometimes she was accompanied by a child.
Jesper looked around, wondering where the rest of the household was. Kaz had spoken about more than one person, but so far Jesper had only seen one; and that one was standing right in front of him.
‘You can sit there,’ the man said and pointed at the chairs around the table. ‘You want dinner?’
‘I’d really appreciate that, sir,’ Jesper said and the man nodded before he disappeared into the kitchen.
-=-=-=-=-
The sky was dark and the last rays of the sun were setting behind the horizon when you heard the bell from the kitchen, telling you that dinner was ready.
You always spent so much time outside that your father had given up on trying to find you for dinner. Instead he had installed the bell to let you know when you had to come home, and when you cooked you used it to get your father back home.
You got up from your spot on the ground next to Klara. She was the oldest cow you had at the little farm and she had been your mother’s favourite. However, two nights back Klara had suddenly fallen ill and so far she hadn’t improved yet. You had spent the last two days neglecting your duties at the farm to take care of her. Klara was the one thing that was closest to your mother and you refused to say goodbye to her too.
Silently you slipped from the stables and walked back to the house. There was light burning behind the windows and you saw the silhouette of your father inside, sitting at the dinner table. In a flash you thought you saw your mother there too, but as you blinked the image fell away.
Stepping through the backdoor in the kitchen, you kicked off your boots and shrugged off your coat. Quickly you washed your hands and face and arranged your hair, before you walked into the living area, knowing that your father liked you to not be messy at dinner.
‘Klara’s not any better,’ you said as you walked into the room. ‘She’s just lying still and—’
You stopped talking as your eyes found the stranger at the dining table. He was sitting opposite of your father, looking at you with a smile. The boy could be not much older than you were, but by the way he was clumsily sitting in the chair, you saw that he was a lot taller than you. His dark-skinned body was clothed by a dark green suit with flashy, golden buttons, lined with a silky lime-green fabric. Below his dark eyebrows two eyes glittered merrily and his smile got a little more confident as you sat down at the table.
‘What’s going on?’ you asked your father.
‘This is Thomas,’ your father answered, nodding towards the strange boy. ‘His friends ditched him and he needed a place to stay for a few days. With the situation around Klara, I figured a little help at the farm wouldn’t hurt.’
You stared at your father for a moment and then turned to Thomas. ‘Are you from the city?’
The boy nodded. ‘Yes, I go to the university in Ketterdam.’
‘What happened?’
‘We had a few days off and decided to go on a trip here. But when I woke up this morning my friends had left. I have no transport home and after searching for a place to stay all day, I got here.’
‘Nice friends you have,’ you mumbled and something in the boy’s face turned bitter.
‘Don’t get me started,’ Thomas said and then he smiled at you.
-=-=-=-=-
Jesper was woken early by a heavy, pounding headache. The sky outside was pink from the sunrise and with the figures of the trees and houses it looked like a painting to Jesper—one that was far more beautiful than the one he stole from Rover.
As he rolled over in his bed and reached for his temples, it didn’t take long for Jesper to realise that it wasn’t his head that was pounding—there was someone at the door of the room. Groaning Jesper sat up in his bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with the sleeve of the shirt that he had borrowed to sleep in.
‘Coming, coming,’ Jesper groaned when the knocking kept going.
He opened the door and was met with your eager face, painted with a big smile. You chuckled at Jesper and shook your head. ‘Come on, Thomas! Work doesn’t wait!’
Just for a split second Jesper was confused as to why you called him Thomas, but then he realised that the whole show he was putting up here was nothing more than that; a show. You didn’t know who he really was and, if he was honest, Jesper did feel a little guilty about it. You were so kind to him and he hadn’t even given you his real name.
This was not the time for morale questions, however, and Jesper shook the guilt off him. ‘Right,’ he said slowly and then glanced into his room, finding the bag he had dumped on the floor. He had not brought anything other than his guns, the clothes he had been wearing and a little money. ‘Do you perhaps have some clothes I can borrow?’
Half an hour later, Jesper was standing in the stables next to the house with a buttered slice of bread in his hand. He was wearing a linen blouse and trousers of rough material that you had given him. He felt naked without his guns resting on his hips, but taking them with him had been out of the question. Now he felt like the Jesper he had been before he had gone to Ketterdam—poor, weak and unskilled.
You came back with a large sack in your arms, that you dumped into Jesper’s arms. He stumbled under the sudden weight, but managed to keep his balance.
‘My dad’s out on the fields today, so we have to take care of the stables,’ you said. ‘If you feed the chickens, I’ll do the goats and then we’ll get together again, okay? Don’t forget the eggs!’
You turned around and walked off and Jesper was left baffled. Unsure, he turned and walked to the chicken coop, finding a bunch of chickens there. A fat, white one looked up when Jesper stood over the coop and cooed softly. The chicken kept staring at him as he walked around the fence and Jesper slowly began to freak a little.
He put his hand in the bag with food and grabbed a handful of seeds that he threw as far away from him in the chicken coop as possible. All the chickens rushed to the food—including the fat, white one—and Jesper quickly stepped over the fence and lowered to his knees so he could reach into the henhouse. He was met with the angry eyes of another chicken that was still sitting inside the house. She pecked at Jesper’s hand while he tried to find the eggs that you wanted.
When he finally pulled back, he had found six eggs. His hand was throbbing and even bleeding at some places. As fast as he could he walked away from the chicken coop back to the stables, where he dropped the sack with food on the ground and sat down next to it, examining his hand.
After a few minutes you came back from the goats and the smile on your face changed to worry when you saw Jesper sitting defeated on the ground.
‘Are you alright?’ you asked.
Jesper quickly jumped up and nodded, hiding his hand behind his back. He forced a smile on his face and tried to look excited at you. ‘I’m perfectly fine.’
You squeezed your eyes at him but dropped the subject. ‘Okay, if you say so,’ you mumbled and then nodded your head to the back of the stables. ‘We have to check on Klara again before we go on.’
‘Klara?’ Jesper asked.
You walked off to the back and Jesper followed you, ending up at a dark stable where a big cow was lying on the ground, breathing deeply. She had her eyes closed and Jesper thought she was asleep, but when you stepped into the space, the cow opened her eyes and looked up at you.
‘This is Klara,’ you unnecessarily explained. ‘She is our oldest cow, but it’s not looking so good for her now.’
You lowered to your knees and rested your hand on top of Klara’s head. The cow closed her eyes at the feeling and let out a deep breath. You closed your eyes momentarily and as a troubled shadow crossed your face Jesper realised that Klara wasn’t just another animal at the farm to you.
‘Will she be alright again?’ Jesper asked, standing awkwardly at the entrance of the stable.
‘I really don’t know,’ you sighed and you looked up at Jesper with sad eyes. ‘She’s not worse than yesterday, but also not any better.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Jesper said and he tried to give you a reassuring smile.
You got up from the ground and gave Jesper a little smile back. ‘Thank you.’
-=-=-=-=-
Later that afternoon Jesper was sitting with you in the shadows of the house, looking out over the fields that surrounded the farm. Somewhere far in the distance he could see the figure of your father, as a little black silhouette against the bright light of the sun.
Jesper was exhausted. Although he considered himself in good shape, the work on the farm was completely different from what he usually did in Ketterdam. Normally he would crouch, run and hide, but today he had had to use brute force and the running had only applied when one of the goats had gone after him.
‘And,’ you said as you handed Jesper a glass of water, ‘how do you like it here?’
‘I’m so tired,’ he whined dramatically and you laughed, throwing your head back. ‘But it looks beautiful here. I like it—reminds me of home.’
‘Where’s home?’
Jesper hesitated for a moment, considering where his actual home was.
‘I grew up in Novyi Zem, on a jurda farm,’ he told you, while staring out at the fields. ‘My dad still lives there, works on the farm now that I… am going to the university in Ketterdam…’
Carefully Jesper looked aside after his slip-up, but you hadn’t caught it. With your legs tucked to your chest and your arms wrapped around them, you were sitting in the chair, taking in the sunlight with your eyes closed. There was a soft golden glow on your face from the sun and the point of your nose glistened.
‘...I guess that’s my home now,’ Jesper continued. ‘Ketterdam.’
‘Hmm,’ you hummed softly before you opened your eyes and looked at Jesper. ‘What’s it like? To live there?’
‘You’ve never been to Ketterdam?’
‘I have, but never for a long time,’ you said, giving Jesper an innocent smile.
‘It’s… busy, noisy, crowded. There’s people everywhere, at all times of the day. When it’s hot the canals stink and when it rains the entire city turns grey. The rich people are mean and the poor are gross. It’s never safe and there’s a lot of crime.’ Jesper stopped talking to take a breath and noticed you were watching him with a raised eyebrow. Then he smirked. ‘It’s amazing.’
You leaned back in your chair and huffed. ‘I think I prefer the silence of the country.’
‘I get that. On my first day in Ketterdam I wondered how I could ever live there. I was sick with longing for home and the farm.’
‘What happened?’
Jesper grimaced. ‘I got a taste of real life.’
You waited for Jesper to continue, but he said nothing. He couldn’t really, not if he wanted to obey Kaz’s orders. Again he felt bad for you, for lying to you. You were so kind to him and all he did was lie about who he was; you didn’t even know his real name.
-=-=-=-=-
You stepped out of your room while the sun wasn’t even up yet. The house was silent and dark, but you could easily find your way to the room you were headed for. This was the house you grew up in and you knew every secret hidden in every dark corner.
‘Time to wake up!’ you said through the door and you knocked shortly.
Yesterday, Thomas hadn’t been of great use with your animals, but you hoped that today he would. He had told you that he had grown up on a jurda farm so you figured fieldwork wouldn’t be as hard on him as the goats.
There was a grunt from inside the room and you had to stifle a laugh. Once again you knocked—a little harder this time—and the grunt from inside came back louder. Yet there was little movement in the room and you rolled your eyes and grumbled something about lazy rich boys from stupid universities, before you threw the door open.
‘What—hey!’ Thomas cried out. ‘I said I was coming!’
‘Sounded a lot more like you’d just roll over again,’ you said, leaning against the doorpost with your arms crossed.
Thomas murmured something incomprehensible and he threw the blankets off of him. ‘If you wanted to see me naked, you could’ve just asked, you know?’ he smirked as he swung his legs off the bed and stretched his arms over his head.
‘Hmm, if only I wanted,’ you shot back, but you couldn’t keep your eyes from gazing at his chest anyway. It was dark, but your eyes had gotten used to the darkness enough to be able to see the lines and shapes of Thomas’ bare body. There was no denying his fitness, but what caught your attention more were the scars littered over his torso. From small, almost innocent lines to light-coloured circles and dents. For the simple student he claimed to be, he had an awfully damaged body.
You averted your eyes from his chest and shook your head. How this boy’s body looked was none of your business, so there was no point of dwelling on it. Yet, as you turned around to leave the room, you found yourself fighting the urge to get closer and feel his body under your hands.
‘You like waffles?’ you asked over your shoulder, seeing a big smile break on the half-naked boy’s face.
-=-=-=-=-
Your father had worked on the fields yesterday, and most work had been done already. All there was left for you and Thomas to do was harvest the potatoes on the last piece of land and then sort them with the rest. It was heavy, dull work and you were glad there was someone to help you.
Thomas and you were bent over the crops, working opposite of each other on a row of potatoes. The sun was shining on your back fiercely and you felt it burning on your neck. It was long too late to prevent the sweat from breaking out and you felt hot and sticky.
Opposite of you, Thomas wasn’t doing much better. Little droplets of sweat were rolling down his temples and the shirt he was wearing was soaked with his sweat. Yet there seemed to be some sort of glow around him, like he was energetic still—even after the hours of labour.
It was late in the afternoon when you pulled out the last of the potatoes. You and Thomas dropped down on the grass on the edge of the field, both sighing with relief that the hard work was over.
‘Only sorting left,’ Thomas said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. ‘How long will that take?’
You squeezed your eyes against the afternoon sun as you looked at the boy next to you and shrugged. ‘About two hours, I guess.’
‘Two hours in this heat is an eternity,’ Thomas stated.
‘We could do it tonight,’ you suggested. ‘After dinner, when it has cooled a bit.’
‘And what do we do until then?’
You shot Thomas a cheeky smile and got up from the ground. ‘I have an idea.’
You led Thomas through the sunny fields and over the meadows around the farm, ignoring the sunshine in your face. Eventually you slowed at large bushes and a few trees and you smiled at the boy before you pushed aside some branches and stepped out into an open spot with a small lake.
Thomas burst out in laughter and turned to you with a big smile on his face.
‘Last one in the water has to get the other drinks!’ he shouted as he threw off his shirt.
You followed after him, stepping out of your shoes and trousers. As you ran towards the water you took off your shirt, throwing it somewhere behind you on the grass. You pushed off on the side and wrapped your arms around your legs as you jumped into the water next to Thomas with a cheer.
The cold water engulfed your entire body and you happily welcomed it after the whole day of sun. Gasping for air when your head reached above the water again, you turned to Thomas.
‘You were last!’ he exclaimed.
‘Only because you were already in the water when you said it!’ you defended yourself and splashed water towards Thomas.
‘Still counts!’
He pushed water back and you closed your eyes against the waves. Water dripped down your hair and face, getting stuck in your eyelashes. You blinked the drops away and swam a little closer to Thomas.
Planning to create a huge wave, you lowered your hands in the water, when you felt something slimy slither past your foot. You squealed and leaped into Thomas’ arms, almost drowning him with the sudden weight. Terrified you scanned the water around you, looking for the thing you had felt.
‘What’s wrong?’ Thomas asked, trying to keep you in his arms while staying above the water.
‘I felt something!’ you squeaked, still looking around you.
‘Don’t tell me you’re afraid of fish,’ Thomas laughed.
‘I am not! I just freaked because I—’ you started but stopped when you quit looking and found yourself very close to Thomas.
That same deep urge as this morning crawled inside your mind before you could stop it. Despite yourself you admired the simple beauty of the face so close to yours. This boy had something enchanting, and it was more than just his jokes and smirks. Something about him made you want to cling onto him and not let go.
You did let go, however, and quickly swam back to the side in silence. Thomas followed you and climbed on the grass, offering you a hand so you could get out of the water yourself.
As you got dressed—with some difficulty because you were both still wet—far in the distance you heard the sound of a bell, telling you that dinner was ready.
‘Finally,’ Thomas said, as he pulled his shirt over his head. ‘I was beginning to worry we wouldn’t eat at all.’
-=-=-=-=-
Jesper was sitting alone at the back of the house with two large baskets of potatoes in front of him. Luckily it had cooled down and it was now pleasant to sit outside.
You stepped out of the house with a tray in your arms. Two glasses of lemonade and a plate of biscuits stood on the tray that you put down on the ground between Jesper and you, before you sat down yourself.
‘How generous of you,’ Jesper started, as he took the glass. ‘Almost like you didn’t lose the race.’
You shook your eyes as you took a biscuit, which you used to point at Jesper. ‘That race wasn’t fair, and you know it.’
‘Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.’
You rolled your eyes but there was a smile on your face nevertheless. Then you nodded towards the baskets.
‘Two piles,’ you said. ‘One with small potatoes and one with normal and large.’
You took out a few potatoes and showed Jesper how to determine the size. He got on quickly and you were already starting on the second basket when your father called you away.
Jesper continued on his own while admiring the sunset he always missed in Ketterdam. He loved living in the city and wouldn’t want it any other way, but in moments like these he did miss his old home. He missed the simplicity of life back then, of knowing exactly what was going to happen in your day. Living in the city, living with the Dregs, had taken that certainty from Jesper.
The sun had almost completely set when you came back and the last rays of sunshine reflected in the tears on your face. You sat down with a sigh next to Jesper and before he could ask you what was wrong, you burst into sobs.
Before thinking, Jesper dropped the potato in his hand and crawled to you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to his chest. He didn’t know where the action came from or why he did it, but seeing you so heartbroken hurt Jesper’s own heart.
You buried your face in Jesper’s neck and he wrapped his arms a little tighter around you. He could feel your quivering breaths on his skin and your tears soaked his shirt but he didn’t care.
‘It’s okay,’ he whispered and pressed a kiss on the top of your head without a second thought. ‘Let it out. It’s alright.’
After a while your tears stopped and your quivering breath changed for hiccoughs. You lifted your head from Jesper’s shoulder and looked at him with an apologetic look, that he discarded immediately.
‘Don’t even dare to apologise,’ he said and you laughed softly. Jesper wiped the tears from your face and cradled your head in his hands. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s Klara,’ you said as Jesper dropped his hands from your face to your hands. ‘My dad went looking at her and she’s doing even worse than before. I know she’s just a cow and everything, but she’s the strongest connection I have to my mother and I just…’
You looked up at Jesper and smiled sadly. ‘I don’t know, it probably sounds weird.’
Jesper shook his head and gave your hand a little squeeze.
‘It doesn’t sound weird,’ he said, thinking of how he had clung to the littlest thing of his mother after she had passed.
You sniffed and smiled at Jesper. ‘Thanks.’
‘Of course,’ he said, as he sat back next to you, taking a new potato in his hand.
You followed his example and for a while you worked in silence, until Jesper took the last potato from the basket and threw it on the pile left of him. He turned to you and found you staring at the dark sky.
‘What was your mother like?’ he asked finally, giving in to his curiosity.
‘She was perfect,’ you said and you smiled faintly ahead of you. ‘She was caring, kind and smart. She kept things going around here. There is not much to do, but she always made sure I was never bored.’
You laughed shortly and turned to Jesper. ‘Perhaps I’m a little biased; she was my mother after all.’
‘Maybe,’ Jesper said and he gave you a smile. ‘But you’re allowed. Who better than kids to judge a parent?’
‘She was beautiful too,’ you added. ‘Did you see the paintings? My dad used to paint a lot, but since my mother passed away he hasn’t picked up a brush. It’s a shame, I think he’s really talented.’
Jesper nodded. He had wondered why the paintings had only been of the woman young, but she hadn’t aged anymore after that.
Now that the sun had set, the warm air slowly turned cold. Jesper fought the urge to wrap his arms around his own body. He looked at you and noticed the goose bumps on your arms too. He got up and offered you his hand.
‘Come on, let’s go inside,’ he said. ‘It’s freezing out here.’
You took Jesper’s hand and followed him to the backdoor of the house. When you walked past the path that led to the stables, you slowed and pulled lightly on Jesper’s hand.
‘Can we…?’ you asked and before you had finished your sentence Jesper nodded.
‘Of course.’
The stables were warmer than outside and though Jesper still hadn’t gotten used to the smell he much rather be there than outside. He much rather be there with you than alone in his bed.
Klara lay in the back and you let go of Jesper’s hand to rush over to her. You dropped to your knees next to the cow and wrapped your arms around her. Big tears rolled down your cheeks and the soft sound of your crying filled the barn.
Jesper sat down in a pile of dried hay and stared at his hands as he listened. After a while your crying stopped and only the heavy breaths of Klara could be heard. Feet shuffled and when Jesper looked up you weren’t sitting next to the sick animal anymore but next to him.
Your cheeks were still wet from the tears, but you managed to give Jesper a little smile. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. Slowly he leaned back in the hay until his back found support and he was almost lying down.
Without needing more words, you pulled your legs on the hay and settled against Jesper’s body. With one hand to your own chest and the other rising and falling with the motion of Jepser’s chest, you quickly fell asleep.
Jesper glanced down at you and almost got unwell by the sense of comfort that washed over him. The longer he looked at you the more that little bubble of guilt in his stomach grew, but before he could do anything about it the hard work of the day took its toll on him and he dozed off.
-=-=-=-=-
You woke up in a pile of hay by something that was nudging your leg. Slowly and grumbling against the bright morning light you opened your eyes to find a cow standing in front of you.
‘Klara!’ you cried out and the happiness that filled you at seeing she had recovered during the night drowned out all the sleep left in your system.
You jumped up and stumbled to the cow, throwing your arms around her neck. A few tears of happiness escaped your eyes and they dropped down on Klara. After last night you really didn’t think she would recover anymore, let alone be standing on her own feet.
As you hugged Klara, you suddenly remembered that you hadn’t been alone last night. You let go of the cow and returned to the hay you had woken up in. Instead of the boy you had fallen asleep against last night now lay a little note.
Good morning sleepyhead,
My friends finally picked me up early this morning and you looked too peaceful to be disturbed. I want to thank you and your father for letting me stay at your humble farm. It did me good to be out of the city for a while. I want to thank you as well for your company and honesty. I really hope Klara gets better—she seems quite cool.
I know you don’t like the city, but if you ever accidentally find yourself there and you miss my sparkling presence, go to The Crow Club and ask the bartender for Jesper Fahey. They’ll know who to find.
Take care,
Thomas
- - - - - - - -
taglist: @is-it-really-a-secret @mrs-brekker15
MASTERLIST
#jesper fahey x reader#jesper fahey imagine#jesper fahey#jesper x reader#fahey x reader#six of crows x reader#six of crows imagine#six of crows#crows x reader#the crows x reader#soc#shadow and bone imagine
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Ore Hybrid!Reader x Dream SMP
Dsmp x reader prompt; Ore hybrid!Reader in the Dream SMP. Credit would be appreciated so more people can find this and make their own things based on it.
Requested from my idea list by @smolbox-png, if you would like to request something, you are still able to.
Mostly fluff and crack type prompt, but could be used for angst at some parts.
TW! Manipulation for one bit, and what could be a non-descriptive panic attack in another with it marked in bold (both the start and the end) for people to skip and remains as coherent piece with either or both removed/skipped. Also slight talk of blood, but non-descriptively in few places.
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Let's start of with the reader being an ore hybrid in general and then later move on to the specifics of the ore types if there are any unique features related to that ore specifically.
The reader's skin has a greyish tint to it and is covered in veins of the ore they are a hybrid of. The veins as well as their nails are made of their ore type. In some cases were they are more ore than human their bones are also made of the ore and their blood is a molten version of that ore. Most are at least slightly fire resistant, but not necessarily resistant to lava.
If the reader's ore can be made into armour they naturally have half of the protection wearing that armour type would provide. If their ore type doesn't have an armour set they only have slightly stronger skin, but still harder than a regular humans.
The reader would feel most at home either under or in the ground around the y-level the ore of their hybrid spawns at, and in the right dimension. So they would most likely have an underground base, whether that base is actually in a cave, a mine, an abandoned mineshaft, inside a mountain or a hill depends on preference and what’s available.
I think among the other people on the server who would have natural affinity to them depending on their ore type;
For Phil it would instinctually be any ore hybrid whose ore is shiny, in this case; Iron, gold, diamond and emerald. Plus redstone, but only if it's activated, and netherite, but only if the gold parts of them are visible.
For Techno it would instinctually be gold and netherite.
For Foolish it would be instinctually be gold and emerald.
For Fundy it would be instinctually be emerald, but only by a slight margin.
Some ore specific things that some of the different version can do;
Netherite hybrid wouldn't have the grey tint to their skin due to not only being a refined ore (an alloy, more specifically) but also due to not being based from an overworld ore. If one looked closely they could see tiny specs and streaks of gold in the veins. They are also the only one immune/resistant to lava and fire.
Gold hybrid passively pacifies piglins similarly to wearing gold armour. The only ore hybrid whose skin could be tinted grey or red, depending on whether they are overworld or nether based. Their favourite biome would be either the badlands (the mesa) if overworld based and the nether in general if nether based.
Iron hybrid would be able to use themselves to set things on fire if they have a piece of flint. They would also feel a weird kinship towards iron golems.
Redstone hybrid would emit a light if they get hit or tapped due to getting activated that way.The light lasting for about a minute before stopping. The redstone in them gets activated by active redstone like redstone torches and blocks of redstone.
Lapis lazuli hybrid would need one less piece of lapis lazuli to enchant since they can just use their nails to write or coat the enchantments on whatever they are enchanting. Their blood dyes anything it touches very easily and it's almost impossible to wash off.
Coal hybrid would have strange affinity to wither skeletons that they don't quite understand. They can light their fingers on fire and use them as an impromptu torch. Probably the only one who could make their base on the surface overworld and still be comfortable.
Emerald hybrid tends to get a lot of discounts from any villagers they trade with. Their favourite biome or most specifically the one they are most comfortable in would be the mountains/extreme hills.
Now on to some small scenarios of them interacting with others on the server or the other way around;
Tubbo definitely wanted to perform some experiments with them to test their powers/abilities similar to the way he did to Ranboo when they found about his silk touch hands.
TW! Panic Attack Ranboo having a mental breakdown, because he wanted to make the reader some gifts with their specific ore type (for ex. having a piece of it as the center piece of jewelry he made) but now that he thinks about it he isn’t sure of whether they would be delighted or horrified that he technically used their kin to make things that he would gift them. Aaand now he’s facing the moral dilemma of whether this is ethical or not. Techno ends up finding him spiraling and goes to try and calm him down, but then Ranboo ends up telling him about it. Techno starts to think about the times he’s not only gifted them things, but also about the times he ended up using the ore without even thinking with them in the same room as him. And now they are both spiraling. When Phil finally finds them both, he had to call the reader on the comms to ask them about it so that they would have definitive answer and calm down. TW! End
Several people have made the joke “Could this be considered blood money?” when the reader has bought something using their ore type (since it technically could be).
Ranboo has on few occasions while sleepwalking picked the reader up and moved them to another place. Should the reader try to move away while he’s still around he would end up getting agitated, but still move them back. So in short; they have to wait for Ranboo to either leave the area or wake up. This would end up happening to the emerald hybrid most often due to their veins’ colour reminding him of grass blocks.
All of the people on the list of people who had an affinity for a certain ore type; Phil, Techno, Foolish and Fundy, have on multiple occasions walked straight into something or tripped due to them staring at the reader. Primal brain go brrr when they see them, especially if it’s unexpected, and then they forget to watch where they are going. Phil is the prime offender and he gets so very easily distracted by a person sized shiny thing before crashing straight into something. Foolish’s brain goes “Shiny! Kin?” and ends up staring longer than he thought, it ending up with him walking straight into a tree with him laughing it off. Fundy’s thoughts go more on the lines of “Ooh, want! Take? Steal? Wait, no, no, no! They’re a person, bad brain, bad brain.” and while he is scolding his thoughts he ends up walking straight into a wall. And Technoblade, well uhhh, here’s the funny thing... if the reader is a gold hybrid he might just stare at them at first, but after few seconds if he didn’t end up walking into something or tripping, he’s barreling straight towards them. If the reader’s holding onto someone or the other way around they just get a bunch of jealous snorts coming the other person’s way. However if no one is in contact with the reader or they are alone he is going to pick them up and carry them until he either; snaps out of it or he has stored them safely in his home.
TW! Manipulation. Both Technoblade and Dream were very interested on if one could use the reader’s blood with molds to make resources out of them. This would be possible if the reader’s blood was the molten variety of their ore, but if the reader was a very human ore hybrid it would be less so. While both of them are interested in the prospects of it they have very different ways of going about it. Techno would ask the reader about it and if they were okay with trying it. If they said no to it he would sulk for a bit, but then accept it, only theorizing about it without experiments. While Dream would go down one of three routes; Route one being budding up to the reader and guilt tripping them if they said no when he asked, Route two being acquiring a favor from the reader and cashing it in to try it, and Route three being kidnapping them and doing it anyway (whether it would be him that did the kidnapping or someone he convinced to do it for him is up for debate). TW! Ends.
Once Quackity has gotten Las Nevadas set up enough he might hire them as “eye-candy” for the casinos. The reasons for that being; that he would have noticed that they get stared at by some of the other people on the server if they were any of the hybrids that a person had an affinity over, their hybridization being eye catching in general and of course the obvious connection people’s mind makes from seeing ore; wealth. The position reader would have as their actual job title would depend on what he think they would most likely accept whether that be; a dealer, the entertainment, a bartender, a server or a security guard. After all not that many people like to be hired for their looks.
#mcyt x reader#dream smp x reader#dsmp x reader#mcyt fanfiction#dream smp fanfiction#dsmp fanfic#Pans Writing Prompts#tw blood#tw panic attack#tw manipulation
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Happy birthday fw00shy!!
I thought I couldn’t possibly make two reclists on the same week let alone the same day but eh, that’s what happens when brilliant people share a birth date! I considered making a single rec for @fw00shy and spent 30 minutes trying to choose only one fic then I realized it would be impossible not to mention at least three favorites because I can think of 648271 things to say about them, thank you very much.
You know that kind of perfect slice-of-life with perfect setting and perfect punch lines that makes you visualize everything and wish you could see it on the big screen? Fwooshy’s stuff never fails to make me feel like that. She has such a strong and unique storytelling voice, with refreshing characterization, creative plots and viscerally hot smut sequences - how could I ever resist?
With a very particular narrative - sometimes crude and brutal, others gentle and aching, always mixing the best of both worlds - she has been an invaluable addition not only to the Drarry fandom but also to the rare pairs community, and I love how unique and powerful each one of her works is. Here’s yet another personal and biased selection of my favorite delights, in no particular order. Make sure to leave them some appreciation, and feel free to add your own fwooshy faves to this post! Happy birthday darling!!! 🎉💜
DRARRY
Phoenix in the Fire (2021 | Explicit | 1.4k)
Their first time was an accident. "Sex pollen," Draco claims, though everyone knows it was too much Ogden's after Puddlemere beat the Tornados 240-230.
Few shorts feel like a punch to the solar plexus that leaves you breathless with yearning - I can think of at least two, one being this fic and the other being Still Life by Seefin. This gem is only 1.4k but it might as well be 15k because holy shit there’s SO MUCH character and emotional development packed in here. Draco’s voice is a triumph, Harry’s guilt rips my heart apart, and the A+ smut is filthy hot and indulgent, every line written with such precision and intent it makes me ache. Absolutely brilliant.
Big Hands (2020 | Explicit | 4.5k)
Draco Malfoy is a pianist who's just moved to Paris. Harry Potter, his new roommate, has the biggest hands he's ever seen. Draco is immediately obsessed.
The Victorian AU we didn’t know we needed! This is such a creative and refreshing take on their enemies to lovers dynamics, in a completely different and fascinating scenario. I was immediately captured by the rich atmosphere, sharp characterization and delectable sexual tension. I don’t usually read AUs by I do love myself some musician Drarry, and this fic transpires loves for music and art.
in a rambling way (2021 | Teen | 7.5k)
Ron knocked Hermione up, and now Harry's got to figure out how to clone himself so that his friends don't split up fighting over him. Falling for Draco again was never part of the plan.
Fluffy pining by fwooshy?? Did I read it right? God, I have the biggest soft spot for this lovely break up/make up tale - I’ve always been a slut for road trip fics, and the camping scenario is such a nice change of pace and the perfect excuse to explore the Golden Trio dynamics. This is one of the most gorgeous and heartfelt contemplative fics I’ve ever read, full of gentle yearning and a wistful narrative that took my breath away. They sound so young doing mundane things I got a lump in the throat.
RARE PAIRS
In the Mood (2021 | Explicit | 367 words) - Draco/Ron
"I saw you with Harry today," Ron says. "In the Ministry cafeteria."
I dare you to find 367 words hotter than this. What a treat to see fwooshy exploring one of my favorite rare pairs! I’ll have jealous, sexy Ron for breakfast any day, pls and thank
Money (2021 | Mature | 1.1k) - Ginny/Pansy
Pansy looks like money. Ginny's letting her body call the shots.
One of the sexiest femlash pieces I’ve ever read, lush, intriguing and decadent, with unique atmosphere and brilliant dynamics. A fascinating dive into this scorching power couple!
Cold as Light (2021 | Explicit | 2k) - Ron/Harry, Ron/Cho
Ron ran into Cho at one of those basement clubs that popped up everywhere during the first few years after the war. Then there was Harry. There was always Harry.
I’m personally offended by how much these 2k made me ACHE. The heartbreak is deliciously melancholic and I can’t let go of these characters, so doomed and beautiful in their own way. Such a brilliant take on Cho, who definitely deserves more fwooshy love!
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Catfish & Sunshine II
Read Part I ~ Catfish & Sunshine
Summary: Frankie and Sunshine are all dressed up for a special event and he can’t keep his hands to himself. Requested
Warnings: Smut, language, mentions of loss and grief, sad Santi.
Frankie reluctantly gazed at himself in the mirror that you had hung in the front hallway, giving his outfit a final once-over. He was dressed in his most formal military garb, hair combed and beard carefully trimmed, and though he felt a little ridiculous, he knew you’d be more than thrilled with his appearance.
It was rare that either of you ever had to dress up, both of your lives decidedly relaxed, free of fancy events when you were both happy to go to the bar with the guys for a night out. Hell, Frankie had tried to convince you to let him take you to the fanciest restaurant in town-Benny had been the one to tell him about it; but the moment you saw the dress code on the website you scoffed, pointed out that money could be spent in so many better ways, and then excitedly asked to go to a mom and pop Mexican restaurant that was one of Frankie’s favourites.
Tonight there was no avoiding the formal dress, the fancy hair, nor the heels. It was the second anniversary of Tom’s funeral and Molly and the girls had organized a charity event for retired veterans who needed help getting on their feet after leaving service. It meant as much to Frankie and the guys as it did to Tom’s own family. Everyone was acutely aware that if Tom hadn’t been so desperate to support his family, he would never have gone on the mission that led to his death.
When Frankie had received the invitation in the mail, he’d gone numb, not realizing he had stood frozen in the doorway for more than ten minutes until you walked through the door and bumped into him, yelling in surprise. You had taken one look at his face and knew that Frankie was on the edge and, like he knew you always would, you took charge. First leading him to the couch and getting him to take deep breaths, then taking a look at the invitation he clutched in his hand. When you realized what it was for, you told Frankie you would go with him, support him through the whole thing and then take him for ice cream after. Ice cream dates were a regular thing in his relationship with you.
“Sunshine,” He called, glancing out the living room window at the rain coming down. He heard you grunt in response, probably still trying to get your hair just right even though he thought you looked perfect with bed head. When you’d walked out of the bathroom a few hours prior, your hair was done in a fancy updo, he’d stupidly remarked that you looked great, but ready a little early. You had gaped at him for a moment before gesturing to your face aggressively, pointing out you hadn’t even started on your makeup. He’d steered clear since. “I’m going to pull the car upfront so you don’t have to walk in the rain, I’ll meet you outside the lobby!”
He heard a door open, your voice now clearly echoing down the hall, “Is that your nice way of trying to get me to hurry up, Fransisco?”
“No, no,” He assured you, trying to hold back a laugh, “Take all the time you need, Sunshine.”
When you giggled, Frankie smiled to himself and, with one last glance at the mirror, left the apartment. He was happy to appreciate the walk to the elevator now that he knew it was one of the last times he’d be doing it.
You had moved in with Frankie just a few weeks after you first got together, each of you seeing no point in you keeping your place when you were never there. Next weekend you would be moving into the bungalow you’d bought together, just a little out of town. Somewhere quiet, though the commute into your office wasn’t bad and the trip for Frankie to the nearby flight school, where he was an instructor, was minimal.
Life had been...perfect since the night you and Frankie had confessed how you felt. He was flying again, thanks to you for helping him clear his record of possession. He got to wake up every day with you wrapped in his arms (he didn’t understand how you were always cold but didn’t complain that you used him as your own personal furnace), and in a week he’d be enjoying a day with everyone he loved as they all helped you both move into the new place.
Hell, even Santi had finally come home after over a year away. Tonight would be the first time out for him since he’d been back.
And Santi, that was a surprising twist. It turned out you and he were quite the match, platonically. When he’d first settled back in just a few months prior, you had ensured Frankie spent time with him and helped Santi through his guilt and grief, to feel at home again. You made Santi feel safe, feel welcome even when he showed up late at night in need of his friend. ‘The door is always open for you, Pope’ you’d said, turning away and missing the emotion on his face, though Frankie had seen.
Tonight, you had agreed to be Santi’s date as well as Frankie’s, to help the struggling man get through tonight’s event. As insistent that Molly had been that they were all welcome, he harboured the greatest guilt and regret for Tom’s death and it was a struggle to convince him he needed to be there, that he was wanted.
Frankie wasted no time pulling the car outside of the building lobby, then climbed out to wait for you. He leaned back against the passenger side door, arms crossed and eyes gazing at the ground, lost in thought. He pulled out his phone after a moment and quickly sent a text off to Santi, letting him know they’d meet him out front at the agreed time, sighing with relief when his friend sent a thumbs-up back.
“Pope not flaking out on us at the last minute?”
Frankie glanced up at the sound of your voice, his mouth opening to respond when he caught sight of you and instead he was merely gaping in surprise, an unintelligible noise rushing out of him. There was no other way to describe it, you were absolutely breathtaking.
He’d seen your dress hanging on the back of the bathroom door earlier that day, knew that the shade of blue would complement your skin perfectly. But...fuck, it hugged you in all the right places, showed off the curves he loved to kiss every day, the swell of your chest perfectly outlined in the tighter-fitting top portion, your legs accentuated by the full skirt and simple, dainty heels. And your make-up was fucking flawless. You didn’t need it, barely wore much most days, but you knew how to do it and told him it was something you had fun doing. This was the first time he’d been witness to the full slate of your abilities, the colours on your eyelids bringing out the brightness of your eyes, your lips plump and full and deliciously red.
After a moment of gawking at you, Frankie realized that you were staring at him in equal surprise, your eyes drinking in every inch of his body. You spoke first, looking away from Frankie and glancing around as you swallowed heavily. “Sorry, sir, thought you were someone else.” You giggled, pretending to look around for Frankie.
“Fuck, Sunshine,” Frankie breathed, standing up straight and feeling suddenly very warm, his eyes unable to stop moving from your chest, down your legs, back up, then down. You gave him a shy look as you descended the steps and came to a stop in front of him, “You look perfect. And your makeup,” He pointed to your eyelids, which looked like works of art in their own right and he wondered how the hell you even managed to do it, “So fucking pretty.”
“Thank you,” You beamed up at him proudly, then dropped your gaze again to look over him in uniform, “I’ve only seen you in pictures dressed like this. I think...You may look too good, Frankie. I’ll be fighting off ladies all night.”
Frankie barked out a laugh, pulling you carefully against him so as not to ruffle either of your outfits, though his semi-hard cock was begging him to just take you back upstairs and bend you over the couch. “Good thing Santi will be there, Cariño, you can just send them his way.” He leaned down to kiss you but paused, remembering your makeup, and instead pressed a soft kiss to your temple.
It surprised Frankie when he felt your whole body shudder in response, a little sigh escaping you. He paused, meeting your eyes curiously and then nearly coming undone right there when he saw the turned-on expression he knew all too well burning across your features.
“Mierda,” You murmured, and Frankie felt both proud of how your Spanish was coming along-you’d been taking lessons-and aroused by your evident desire for him. With a pained groan, he stepped back from you and turned to open the passenger door, holding out a hand for you.
You took hold straight away, allowing Frankie to help you into the car and carefully ensure your skirt was in before he slammed the door shut. Walking around to the driver's seat with a semi in his tightly fitted dress pants wasn’t exactly comfortable, especially knowing he had an entire evening ahead of resisting you and your perfect fucking curves. He considered closing the door on his fingers just to help clear his head.
“You uh, ready?” His voice came out husky and he didn’t miss the way it made your legs clench together. Frankie glanced at his watch, his cock twitching in excitement when he realized you were ahead of schedule. He had a couple of minutes. Without waiting for your response, he pulled the car forward and into the darkened parking lot, rain spattering down and filling the otherwise quiet cab with its soothing sounds. “Sunshine?” He huffed as he pulled over at the edge of the lot.
“Frankie, what are you-?” You broke off when you caught his expression, your eyebrows shooting up first in surprise before you gave him a comically horrified look. “Oh Frankie we can’t, we’re all dressed up!”
He laughed, “Relax, Cariño,” Leaning toward you, Frankie reached down and brushed his hand along your lower leg, humming at the softness of your skin, before moving upwards, pushing under your skirt. He moved more quickly than he normally liked to, but time was a big factor here because he didn’t want Santi waiting outside alone for you to arrive. But he couldn’t resist touching you, his voice coming out in a near whisper, “Relax, sweet girl,” You did as he asked immediately, your legs parting and back easing into your seat.
Frankie grunted when he traced up the top of your thigh and found nothing but bare skin, his hand running across your mound in surprise. He looked down at you and found you watching him with a glint in your eye, biting your lip.
“Thought I might get through a bit more of the evening before you noticed.” You admitted, though your mouth snapped shut the moment he took advantage of your panty-free pussy, easily sliding two fingers inside of you.
You let out a filthy moan, hands curling into fists at your side, and swore when Frankie quickly picked up the pace and began fucking you with his fingers. “Always so wet for me, Sunshine,” He whispered in your ear, holding himself back from kissing your pretty face. He could already feel you tensing, only a few more minutes away from your orgasm, “Dirty little thing, aren’t you? No panties on, you like being ready to be fucked anywhere, don’t you?”
“Fuck, Frankie, y-yeah,” You gasped, your hips bucking slightly, “Want-wanted to surprise you a-after, instead of ice cream,” Frankie growled at your admission, beginning to curl his thrusting fingers just how he knew you loved it. You whimpered and panted for him and the possessive, more animalistic part of him fucking loved watching the way you came undone so quickly for him. It only took another minute for you to come for him.
“Cum Cariño, cum for me you perfect little thing, I want you wet and hot and bothered the rest of the night, fuck,” He groaned when you clamped down on his fingers and let out a cry as your orgasm wrecked you, hips thrashing around. “That’s it, good girl, good fucking girl.” He praised you, slowing his movements until the last remnants of your high rolled over you and you sagged back into the seat.
“F-Frankie, Jesus,” You finally breathed, looking over at him as he withdrew his fingers and placed them in his mouth. You whimpered when he groaned at the taste of you, always so sweet and almost peachy. His free hand palmed his erection, which didn’t go unnoticed. “Fuck, do we even have time-?”
“No,” Frankie admitted, somewhat heavily although he was a little excited at the prospect of the evening being coloured with your need for one another. “We actually really need to go, Santi will be waiting.”
Shakily, you pulled your seat belt on and then reached into the centre console for a tissue. Frankie had to look away as you hooked an arm under your skirt to carefully wipe up your essence, both to calm his roaring blood and in disappointment that he couldn’t lick every last drop up himself like he usually did.
The drive to the banquet hall was quiet, each of you focusing on the rainy town and determinedly not looking at one another. When Frankie pulled up to the valet station, grateful they’d erected a fancy tent for guests, he sought out Santi. You spotted him first, excitedly pointing from your seat and Frankie finally spared you a glance, happy to see your makeup remained smudge-free, though your cheeks were rather red. He smirked.
“Thank you,” He nodded to the attendant as he stepped out of the car, hurrying around to help you out. Blocking you from the view of everyone nearby, Frankie gave you a once over, “You look perfect, Sunshine.”
Grinning, you made a show of checking him out, “Not so bad yourself, handsome.”
Frankie took your hand with a laugh and you both moved forward, eyes landing on Santi a few feet away, his back to you both. The set of his shoulders was telling and Frankie exchanged a worried glance with you before he turned around and spotted you both. He grinned, relief washing his features of the heavy frown, his eyes brightening when you each shot him friendly smiles.
“Hey, Hermano. Wow, I can’t believe that still fits you!” Santi declared, first clapping Frankie on the shoulder before flicking his sleeve.
“I had to sew him in,” You deadpanned, winking up at Frankie. Santi barked out a laugh in response before allowing you to sweep him in a careful hug, mindful of your outfits. “Great to see you, Pope, you look good.”
Frankie swelled with admiration for you; you were so kind, so good at diffusing tension and anxiety just by the way you carried yourself, the easy way you tossed out simple compliments and jokes. He knew it was partly due to your work, you’d had more than one veteran crumble in front of you during appointments, their trauma coming out in the safe space of your treatment room as you tried to make them feel better physically. But Frankie, and the guys, all recognized you had a rare quality about you; a bottomless tank of empathy, understanding, of the drive to care for others. One conversation with the beaten and broken Santi and you made it your mission to aid Frankie in helping his best friend, his brother, as he waded through the same deep shit Frankie and the Miller brothers had needed to after the failure of a mission.
“Querida, you make Fish look ten times better you look so pretty,” Frankie rolled his eyes at Santi’s jibe. His friend grinned mischievously, “Benny and Ironhead are inside already, said we’re all at the same table.” He gestured toward the ornate doors leading into the banquet hall lobby.
Frankie smiled when you reached down and threaded your fingers through his own, squeezing before you raised your other arm expectantly at Santi, who dutifully stepped next to you and offered his arm. Though his friend's brows were slightly pinched in apprehension, Frankie could see he was much calmer than he had been a few minutes prior. Frankie flashed you a grateful look as you steered them inside.
The event had a guest list of three hundred, though the room was it was being held in was so large it didn’t feel overly packed, for which Frankie felt relief. He wasn’t big on any of this, but feeling like a packed sardine would have intensified his discomfort tenfold.
Despite being the shortest of the three, you confidently led Frankie and Santi into the ballroom and around the edge with enough purpose that he realized you must have called ahead to find out where their table was. Your level of preparation was stunning, beyond appreciated.
Frankie was going to make this all up to you later.
“Pope! Fish! Sunny!” Benny roared excitedly from where he stood at the table, which Frankie realized was right next to the Davis families. He flushed at the idea that they weren’t being cast aside, put in a spare table in the corner, but rather gathered right by the family. He glanced at Santi, watching as his friend realized this kind gesture and swallowed thickly in response. Benny, meanwhile, rushed forward with his eyes on you, no doubt about to pull you into a bone-crushing hug.
Santi stepped in front of you and blocked Benny, pulling the clueless blonde into his arms instead, “Hey stupid, you’re gonna mess up Sunny’s outfit!” He laughed, and Benny shot Frankie and you a rueful grin over Santi’s shoulder as you both laughed.
Gentle hugs were then exchanged between the group before Will introduced his date formally, though they all knew the bar owner well enough. Tough and quick-witted, Frankie had always liked Kenzie and had been thrilled when Will finally garnered the courage to ask her out a few months ago. You and Frankie went on double dates with them all the time.
Giving Frankie a gentle hand squeeze, you pulled away and eagerly fell into conversation with Kenzie on the opposite side of the table. Kenzie was almost as tall as Frankie and he found it amusing how much shorter you stood next to the tall blond, even with your heels on.
“Seriously, Fish, she’s something else,” Santi confessed, pulling his attention from you. His friend looked deeply grateful, eyes sharply focused on Frankie, “I can’t thank you both enough for everything since...since I’ve been back. Sunny feels like the little sister I never had.”
Frankie nodded, “She has a way of affecting people more than she knows. And she really cares about you. We both do, Hermano.”
“We all do, you mean,” Benny interjected, clapping both of them on the shoulders as Will rolled his eyes next to his brother. “Now Santi and I need to find gals as great as you two have got, eh Pope?”
Santi snickered, “Either of your ladies have any single friends looking for trouble?”
At this, they all joined in as Santi laughed, and for a moment it felt a little like old times. Those days when they had to attend a stuffy event in uniform; Tom’s absence was felt by all of them now. They took their seats, Frankie between you and Santi, Kenzie on your other side. You kept your conversation going with her but adjusted yourself in your seat so that your back was no longer to Frankie. Almost unconsciously, you reached over and took his hand in yours.
Smiling to himself, Frankie took a sip of the water already poured for everyone from the ice-cold decanter by Benny. A short time later, the event MC, a family friend of the Davis’, took up the podium on the little stage nearby and called a start to the event. They ran through a thoughtful speech about Tom, who he was, why this charity would have meant so much to him, and then called upon Tom’s ex-wife, Molly, to say a few words before dinner would be served.
Frankie felt Santi tense next to him as Molly stood at the podium and adjusted the microphone. From where the three of you were seated, you were watching her speak over Benny and Will’s heads, their backs to you. As if sensing the turmoil, you scooted your seat silently closer to Frankie, who met your soft gaze and felt himself relax at the calming expression you held. He let you pull your hand from his so that you could tap Santi’s arm. He looked around and nodded gratefully when you held your hand for him to take. That was how Frankie ended up with both of your hands in his lap, an arm slung around your shoulders and his free hand laid over both of yours almost protectively.
Molly’s speech was filled with memories, moments of Tom’s life that had tears pricking at the corners of Frankie’s eyes. His excitement of becoming a father, his dedication to helping the kids with homework even though it ended up with him pulling his hair out in frustration. When she spoke of his service, Frankie assumed that she would gloss over the highlights, but Molly took him-took the whole group, really by surprise when she pointed at their table and began to affectionately convey the friendship and brotherhood Tom held with the four men at table two. She regaled everyone with a couple of short stories Tom must have told her, each of them bringing sad smiles to the group's faces as they remembered their stubborn leader and the shit they’d all been through together.
When Molly brought up the trip that resulted in Tom’s death, she told everyone the truth that she knew; that Tom had taken a recon job to provide for his family. And that there was always a risk to that kind of work, which was something Tom knew and understood when he said yes to going.
“The truth is, Tom made his own decision about how to take care of his family. I know that he would have made a calculated decision at every point on that trip, and as much as we wish he was still with us, we know that he was there for us. There’s no one to blame for that, no one who should carry Tom’s choices on their shoulders.” And Molly glanced, very pointedly and briefly, toward Santi.
Santi’s shoulders trembled with the sobs he held in, tears splashing down his face as he nodded once in understanding at Molly. Frankie tightened his hand over Santi’s before looking to you, expecting your expression to be filled with equal emotion and surprise.
Instead, Frankie found you gazing softly at Molly with a satisfied, expectant little smile. And he realized then that you hadn’t just called ahead to find out their table number. At some point, you had contacted Molly directly-hell, you might have even sought her out in person, and you must have told her how much Santi, Frankie and the Miller’s were suffering. How she was the only one who could alleviate any of that guilt and pain and regret. Frankie’s suspicions were confirmed when Molly, now closing off her speech, tossed you a small smile of understanding.
Frankie could have dropped to his knee right there and asked you to marry him. The lengths to which you strode to care for not only him but for the men he considered brothers, wasn’t something he could lightly say thank you for. You repeatedly went out of your way for Frankie, taking on emotional baggage he could only begin to imagine, all without even telling him about it and asking for a thank you.
He struggled through dinner, to focus, to have a proper conversation, his hand often falling to your thigh and squeezing. He wanted-no, needed-to get you alone and show you just how much he fucking loved you. But the dinner dragged on, the food delicious, or so you kept declaring as Frankie could hardly taste it at this point. There were a few more speeches about the charity made throughout dinner, and after dessert, there would be a cocktail hour for people to linger, meet charity board members and socialize.
The moment you bit into your cheesecake, Frankie was about ready to burst, considering throwing you over his shoulder and making a run for it. Santi nudged his shoulder, “You alright, Fish?” He murmured, his voice not carrying as Kenzie and you discussed some renovation ideas the bar owner had in mind.
“Yeah, Hermano,” He ran a hand over his face. Santi gave him a searching look, his brows pulling together. “What?”
“You uh,” Santi paused, checking to make sure you were still distracted, “There’s a little meeting room, down the hall from on the left. They book it during the weekdays, but I bet right now it’s empty.”
Frankie gazed at Santi, confused, “R-right...” He replied slowly, watching his friend's expression turn mischievous.
“So, maybe you slip out for a few with Sunny,” He explained, shrugging and wiggling his brows suggestively. Frankie gulped, shaking his head. “Come on, you’ve both been here for me tonight enough. I can tell you have something on your mind, Fish, I’ll be fine while you two...” He trailed off when you turned in your seat, refocusing on them.
“Why do you both look like you’re up to no good?” You joked, unknowingly hitting the mark and they both glanced guiltily at one another. You observed their reactions, your brow quirking, “Okay, what’s up?”
“Nothing, Cariño,” Frankie replied smoothly, tossing his napkin on the table. He pitched his voice lower, “Can we step out for some air?” You nodded, your eyes flicking to Santi, who covered his smirk by taking a drink of wine, then back to Frankie.
Excusing yourselves from the table, Frankie took hold of your hand and led you out of the ballroom. When he didn’t stop once outside the doors in the quiet hallway, you picked up your speed to match his, “Where are we going?”
“Just down here, quiet spot,” He answered, his pulse increasing the closer he got to the room in question. Right away Frankie could see that Santi was correct, not only was the room where he said, but it was dark, the door halfway open. Sneaking a glance to make sure no one saw you both, he ushered you hurriedly inside.
You took a few steps into the darkroom, spinning around as Frankie hit the lock and did a quick survey of the space. Aside from the glow from the red fire exit sign, the room was still and empty. Santi had said the room was used for meetings, but apparently, on weekends it ended up as backup storage space because there was an assortment of black leather furniture in place of any tables or chairs.
“Are you alright, Frankie-Oomph!”
Frankie had grabbed your arm and jerked you toward him, hurriedly backing you into the wall before slamming his lips to yours desperately. When his body pressed you against the wall, you moaned in delight and parted your lips, allowing him to taste you. He was in a frenzy at this point, needy and hard already; it took him a minute to undo the fastens and buttons on his dress pants, his lips never leaving yours.
“Fucking hell, Sunshine,” He gasped, finally pulling his hard length free, his pants pushed down around his thighs, “Look at what you do to me, can’t keep my head on straight. I fucking love you.” Aside from kissing him back, you hadn’t moved since being thrust against the wall, the overall surprise of private, passionate Frankie pulling you into a random room rendering you speechless in the best kind of way. When he spoke your eyes dropped to where his hand fisted over his cock and widened in pure desire.
“W-what’s gotten into you?” You whimpered out as Frankie released his length, crouched down and grabbed the backs of your thighs, lifting. He held you against the wall with one hand and used the other to frantically push aside the extra material of your skirt. “Not complaining here, but I just-oh, fuck!” Your hands grasped his shoulders hurriedly to keep yourself steady.
Frankie surged his hips forward the moment he revealed your bare pussy, knowing you would still be wet from your earlier orgasm. He let out a satisfied grunt when he pinned you to the wall with his cock, his lust intensifying when your legs wrapped around him and you let out a weak, desperate little moan. He set an almost brutal pace then, his eyes drinking in every blissed-out expression that crossed your face, watching for any signs of discomfort.
But you only grew wetter at his rough handling of you, the spontaneous, almost dangerous situation seemingly working to increase your arousal. He had to clap a hand over your mouth when you started moaning and crying out, “Shh, sweet girl, don’t want anyone coming in here and seeing how weak you get for my cock, do we?” He growled when you clenched around him at his words, then continued. “F-fuck, so tight. Do you...have any idea how amazing you are? Th-think I wouldn’t realize how much you did for us, that you spoke t-to Molly.” His hips were moving at the perfect pace, drawing the best moans from you that he quieted with his hand.
You looked at him with heavy-lidded, lust-blown eyes, your brows raising in surprise at his admission. He felt your mouth move against his hand and lifted it to let you speak, “Y-you knew?” You gasped out in a soft voice.
“Not till tonight,” He clarified, punctuating his statement with an extra hard thrust. You whimpered, eyes rolling despite your determination to continue the conversation. The sight of you entirely cock drunk was making Frankie feral.
“I-I did it for you, all for you,” You sighed, eyes closing, “Oh Frankie, I love your cock baby.”
Frankie put his hand back over your mouth and tilted his hips, knowing exactly how to draw out the loudest screams.
“Cum for me, Sunshine. Soak my cock, then take my cum. You can walk around the rest of the night with those pretty thighs clenched, hold it all in until I can stuff you with more at home,” Frankie’s face was right next to yours, his thrusts almost sloppy but he could feel how close you were and knew you’d topple over the edge together. “Fuck, marry me, marry me, I love you so much and I want to marry you, ah shit!”
You came, clenching hard around him as your body jerked in spasms of pleasure, your scream so loud his hand barely contained it, and then Frankie slammed as deep into you as he could and came, his cock soaking your insides with his spend. He dropped his head into the crook of your neck and muffled his yells there, holding you both still as the waves ebbed.
“Fuck, oh fuck,” You gasped out, your body quivering in Frankie’s arms. He lowered you both down to the floor somewhat shakily, his hand shooting under your dress to capture any cum that spilled out of you from the motion. You all but collapsed against the wall, your eyes squeezed shut as you worked to catch your breath.
Frankie reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a pack of travel tissues, carefully wiping you and his hand up to avoid any spills onto your dress. Though, his cock did twitch at the idea of you walking back into the ballroom with his cum dribbling down your legs. “You okay, Cariño? Still with me?”
“Yes,” You replied, your eyes opening slowly to meet his gaze. A goofy grin appeared, your eyes blinking in slow motion as you settled from what had been the most frenzied fuck of your relationship. Frankie chuckled warmly, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Yes, Frankie.” You repeated when he pulled back.
Frankie grinned, “I heard you the first time.” He joked, tossing the used tissues into a nearby wastebasket.
“No, Frankie, I mean yes.”
Frankie stilled, glancing down at you in confusion-had he gone too hard? Was he going to have to sneak you out to the car because he’d fucked you silly? But then Frankie saw your expression, no longer dazed and blissed out, but now the most intense look he’d ever seen, so fierce he almost flinched. Realization slammed into him like a freight train.
“What do you...are you saying?” Frankie babbled, shaking his head once to focus, “Sunshine, are you saying yes to-“
“Yes, Fransisco Morales, I will marry you.”
His mouth dropped open in shock, your words reverberating around in his now empty head. You just said yes to marrying him. You said yes. Holy shit, you said yes.
“I-are you serious? You really want to marry me?”
You laughed, pulling Frankie into your arms and peppering his face with kisses, “Yes, si, absolutely, affirmative. I want to marry you, Frankie, I’ve never been more serious in my life.”
Frankie’s heart was about to shoot out of his chest, “But I didn’t ask you right...I-I fucked it up, I have a ring at home, I was going to-“
You shushed him with a kiss, “This was perfect. You did not fuck it up-you did kind of fuck me up, but the proposal was perfect, Frankie.”
“Probably not something we can tell the kids about one day though.” He replied, grinning when you burst into fits of giggles. He couldn’t help but touch you then, his hands trailing your arms, the sides of your face, down the curve of your neck, “Seriously, though, Sunshine-need you to know how much I love you. You mean everything to me, you are everything. I-I know this might be fast, but I’ve loved you for over two years and nothing feels more right than the idea of you and I getting married.”
You beamed up at Frankie, “Kinda worried about getting all dressed up for the wedding-seeing as you can’t seem to control yourself when I’m fancied up,” Frankie barked with laughter, happiness filling him from head to toe. “But seriously, Frankie, I love you too. Ring or not, fancy proposal or proposing while railing me into the wall, it’s always going to be yes.”
“Come here,” He murmured, pulling you close and pressing his lips to yours gently. “Thank you, for everything. For tonight, for these past few years, for saying yes.” He sighed happily, hugging you close in the darkened room as you each worked to catch your breath.
He felt you shift your head to speak, but before you could there was a loud banging on the door that startled you both. Frankie instantly tugged you closer, though he felt your hands slip between your bodies and pull his dress pants back around him properly. Thankfully, the door didn’t open, however-
“Hey, when you two are done fucking we’re going for drinks!” Benny called, his voice laced with laughter.
Santi’s voice joined in a moment later, “Christ, Benny, I told you to leave them alone-I told him not to look for you!” And then the sounds of a scuffle could be heard and you started giggling as Frankie struggled to do his pants up and get to the door, cursing when he nearly tripped.
When Frankie ripped open the door, his two friends immediately stopped play fighting and turned to grin at him knowingly, mouths opening to tease and promptly snapping shut when you appeared at Frankie’s side, carefully smoothing down your dress as you smirked at them.
“Boys, you realize you’re buying now, right?”
Did you enjoy this? Consider leaving a comment or reblogging to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Thank you 🤍
#frankie morales x reader#triple frontier x reader#francisco catfish morales#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#reader insert#frankie morales smut#triple frontier#santiago garcia x reader
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