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#Like he's literally leaving the expectations of his father behind
koiiiiijiii · 14 hours
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being in big deals from beginning with Sinu, but leaving with Samuel after
pairing ; samuel seo x reader x jake kim
tw ; polyamorous, mfm, possessive! samuel
author note ; my first time writing for lookism and for this two, also im on chapter 343 only, so if something not accurate enough im sorry!! ALSO celebrating 400 followers!! and even tho ask box is closed, i still want to do something nice for you, so if you want you can leave your requests for SHMOL sketches under, i will do it super short and put it in one post!! lookism and windbreaker💋✨💐🤸🏼‍♀️
author note 2 ; not proofed, i wrote it after work with one eye open, so i just throw it to chat gpt to check any mistakes, if you find any you know who you can judge😤🫸🏻
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⋆𐙚₊˚ you have been with big deals even before Jake and Samuel joined, which means you were more close with Sinu, who was like a older brother figure for you
⋆𐙚₊˚ you always were good with calculating and make predictions so you literally was the reason why big deals didn’t have any debts to any other gangs or companies
⋆𐙚₊˚ when Jake and Samuel joined big deals they firstly didn't pay too much attention, just another girl spinning around Sinu, nothing new
⋆𐙚₊˚ but then they started to notice that you always appears at every meeting, even if it were just for big deal, not including girls who work on their street, always whispering something on Sinu ear and checking some papers
⋆𐙚₊˚ it was slow burn in beginning, they payed you more attention on meetings, started more small talks time to time, as soon as they caught that you are actual part of big deals. also, later they learned that you actually liked Sinu as older brother, and that was the moment when they start... acting…
⋆𐙚₊˚ of course you had your small moments together before. like you accidentally fall asleep on Jake’s shoulder when everybody celebrated another holiday, or when you asked both of them to show you some actions, - in case if you will be alone on the street, so you can protect yourself - and seemed that Samuel got a little carried away and pushed you too hard, but catching you by your wrist just moment before your head was about to hit the ground
⋆𐙚₊˚ there were always that moments between three of you
⋆𐙚₊˚ but first one who started to show off were Samuel
⋆𐙚₊˚ he already were jealous over the fact that Sinu choosed Jake as his favourite one, so he can’t let Jake to have yours attention as well. later it will be worse, when he will learn who Jake’s father was
⋆𐙚₊˚ Samuel would always flirt with you making it crystally clear that he likes you, and you wouldn't even notice it because of amount of work for big deals and of homework you still had in school
⋆𐙚₊˚ and when Samuel brutally flirts with you, trying to get your attention, Jake would snort, turning his eyes somewhere else, trying to ignore it and telling Jerry to "stop say stupid stuff like this" when he, once again tried to push his boss to admit his feelings towards you
⋆𐙚₊˚ for Jake it's complicating because he see how Samuel likes you, so he doesn’t want to ruin everything even tho he himself had so many feelings towards you
⋆𐙚₊˚ and Jake waited for too long...
⋆𐙚₊˚ when Samuel took leading position in big deals you were forced to stay by leader side to help him earn as much money as possible to pay to big four, but when Samuel left big deals for workers he asked you to go with him
⋆𐙚₊˚ Samuel was far from gentle man, but when his huge arms hugged your shoulders from behind, softly murmuring into your ear to come with him in new gang, to join him and stay by his side, offering you simply better life, where you won't need to calculate how to save more money until next month, where you will be able to buy expensive clothes, where you can offer yourself jut... more... it was hard to resist to Samuel espesially when you lived your whole life expecting how to safe money to the next month and economize as much as you can
⋆𐙚₊˚ so thats how you left big deals with Samuel, still with heavy heart for Sinu and big deals in general
⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake was feral when Jerry told him that. in his head it was more like Samuel forced you. oh, Jake were fully aware that Samuel were able to use power over girls, and Jake blamed himself for the fact that you had to leave the big deals
⋆𐙚₊˚ when you and Samuel become part of workers, he won’t let you go far away from him. you would be his personal assistant and manager. everything but always by his side. you always. by his side. always. Samuel even went that far that he rent big apartments for both of you, of course with separate rooms, you still didn’t accept his feelings and were naive about what kind of emotion you rise in him
⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake tried to contact you few times but, oh wow, what a surprise, Samuel always were the one to pick up the phone, telling him to leave you alone
⋆𐙚₊˚ to say less Jake felt terrible back then, things that happened to Sinu, Gun Park and his big four gangs, praises about money and the heir at his place, big deals, everything at one time…
⋆𐙚₊˚ and then prison… Jake felt like biggest loser on this planet
⋆𐙚₊˚ and he would never wish you to see all horrors of this place, but here you are sitting on the other side of safety glass, looking too beautiful to place like this, too pretty in your fitted white shirt and pleated skirt. Jerry probably yanked you right out of the office. another self note - to chastise Jerry next time for bringing you to place like this
⋆𐙚₊˚ “Jake… im sorry, i had no idea what happened to you” you murmured softly into the receiver of the phone connecting the two sides. “Samuel never said anything about that… I was shocked when Jerry just caught me near office and crammed me in the car”
⋆𐙚₊˚ after that day, you came to Jake more often, slipping away from Samuel under the pretext that you wanted to meet an old friend from school and he didn't need to attend girls' gatherings
⋆𐙚₊˚ when Jake finally got out of prison, one of the first things that he did was ask you to eat ramen together. you told him everything about your new life, that now you live with Samuel and he takes care about everything, starting with payments for apartments, finishing with fuel for car, as he always ready to ride you to any part of city
⋆𐙚₊˚ Jake felt feral when you told him whole story.
⋆𐙚₊˚ not only that bastard not tell you what happened to Jake, but he also controlled the calls and forced you to live with him. Jake knew what Samuel's feelings were for you, even if you perceived his care and relationship as friendly or brotherly, Jake still guessed what was behind it. but he never imagined that his friend would get to the point where he would keep you with him 24/7 and secretly control your phone calls from anybody from big deals
⋆𐙚₊˚ after that meeting Jake knew that he can’t offer you to stay at his small room he rent, even if he really wanted you to stay more by his side. he didn't tell you about his guesses about Samuel, you don't have to worry, yet you were safer with him than with Jake now. the only thing he did before sending you home in a taxi was hug you so tightly - tightly, it seems that his hands were a little lower than he should have allowed himself, and his hot breath was a little off when his lips were too close to your neck.
⋆𐙚₊˚ in the end, Jake pushed your hair off your forehead, and pressed his lips firmly to your forehead, shut his eyes and quietly promised himself to deal with Samuel later
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bonefall · 30 days
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i'm ngl depicting thunder's prosthetic as a burden is pretty uncomfortable even if it is something some amputees experience because like. there's a huge stigma around prosthetics already you know? it's like having a parent forcibly strap a child into a wheelchair when they don't need it and having a horrible experience with it and that being your only character in a wheelchair. some full-time wheelchair users do resent their wheelchairs but when that's the only time you're bringing it up at all it feels like you're playing into our society's perception of wheelchairs and mobility aids in general as useless and best and divine punishment at worst. idk do let me know if i'm wording this wrong because i really do love better bones! it's just that this detail is... strange.
I mean, I'm open to feedback if that's not something I should do-- but I do actually have other characters in prosthetics and mobility aids! A lot of them! Thunderstar's actually the only one who ends up rejecting his own, because I also wanted to depict that it's bad to force a device onto someone who does not want one.
Especially in circumstances like Thunder Storm's, where that sort of device would be actively unhelpful for his lifestyle. It might help in open field environments like moorland, but then I got more feedback and realized that it would just make a lot of unwanted noise in a forest (since cats have carpal whiskers to help them figure out where to place their paws). Then I figured it was a good way to show how BB!Clear Sky doesn't actually listen to his son's needs and acts differently when he's not "grateful" enough for his gift.
But he's far and away from the only one with a mobility aid or prosthetic!
I haven't figured out Frog entirely yet, but he's going to be the first cat with a "wheelchair" type device, to set up a long line of cats through the generations improving on it (Probably not much more than a reinforced canvas or durable leather, as this was the age of very early flax processing)
Wildfur's the next in the big advancements, even making the Great Journey in his own and getting a side story based around Littlecloud and Cinderpelt collaborating over this
The device is then improved upon by Jessy for Briarlight, giving her a level of independence and confidence that she needs to finally cut her mom out until she learns how to behave
Deadfoot has a brace for his front paw because the joint is loose (it was based on a friend's carpel tunnel bracelet) which is affectionately referred to as The Bonker; his name is also now an Honor Title (Old name: Hoprunner) for inventing a battle move by distracting with his good paw, and then SLAMMING his other limb down hard on his opponent. It's called "deadfooting."
I think mobility devices are super important, usually massively improve quality of life, and I just enjoy designing them, so the choice to portray Thunder Storm's as negative was a very deliberate one that I did in response to what I thought was a desire in representation. Even the fact it's a hind-leg prosthetic was thought out, since those have a much higher satisfaction rate in humans than hand prosthetics, but in a cat would probably be the opposite.
Still, I'm not missing a limb, so now with all of that context presented, do you still think the same thing? Should I just add even more limb prosthetics to make the ratio of satisfied prosthetic users vs Thunder Storm even steeper?
Sunlit Frost is actually going to have a bite on his good paw go septic (the other side has permanent damage from the fire). I could have that paw get amputated and have Thunderstar "return the favor" for how Sunlit Frost created the prosthetic he rejected by helping him build his own. A pawsthetic, if you will
OR would it be better to just remove the subplot of Thunder Storm grappling with/rejecting a prosthetic that is unfitting for him entirely, and have all prosthetics be 100% treated as positive in the narrative?
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jaylaxies · 6 months
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KINKTOBER DAY 29 — THREESOME
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PAIRING: jake x fem!reader x jeno
GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, facefucking, cunnilingus, breeding, threesome, usage of nicknames, jake and jeno are step brothers (not yours).
WC: 1.2k words
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, angels! this is purely self indulgent atp, but i hope you guys will like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33
✎ kinktober masterlist
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“Jake, stop! What if he hears us?”
You gasped, asking him to stop, but your fingers only pulled him closer to leave featherlight kisses all over your neck. 
“He won’t, trust me,” Jake mumbled, too immersed in kissing down the expanse of your skin to worry about his step brother being home. 
The arrangement was new for him. His father had recently remarried, which means his stepbrother had to leave his old life behind and shift (along with his mom) to the new mansion, to Jake’s place. 
He didn’t interact with him a lot, the things were awkward and they were both well aware that it would take a while for them to come to terms with the new setting, so they tried to keep it decent by greeting each other whenever they crossed paths. 
As for you, it had barely been a week since you and Jake got into the friends with benefits arrangement, having met through a mutual friend at a party last week, which led to a crazy night with him and hence, the new proposition, which finally brings you to Jake’s place. 
He was sure that there wasn’t anyone else at home. His parents were out for their honeymoon trip, and his step brother was nowhere to be found when he last checked the place, which was before you arrived. 
With his assurance, you let your moans get louder, moving your hips along his thigh, which was flexed to provide the perfect amount of friction to your bare cunt, your skirt ridden up to the waist. 
“Feels good?” He asked, accent deep as he pulled you up, throwing you on the bed and getting in between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs to hold you tighter, pulling your ass cheeks apart. 
Your mouth was open, eyes rolling back when he licked a big stripe of your cunt, groaning and mumbling about how sweet you tasted each time before prepping featherlight kisses all over your cunt, barely touching your clit to tease you. 
When you whined again, he gave in, sucking your clit and running his tongue up and down your folds. 
Unbeknownst to you both, there was someone standing right by the door, curious if there was something wrong with Jake, granted the noises coming from his room were muffled till he reached the door. 
Jeno didn’t mean to breach his privacy by any means, but he was curious and one look wouldn’t hurt anyone—which was his thinking. 
However, he did not expect to see his old fling in the bed with his new step brother, legs wide open as he ate you out. 
He cursed. Jeno had missed you too much when you had to leave the city to shift somewhere else, granted that sex with you was literally the best he used to have, but he never thought he’d find you here, especially in his brother’s bed. 
His body worked faster than his brain for once as he swung opened the door, grasping their attention. 
“Jeno what the fuck?” Jake’s eyes were wide. 
He paid Jake no attention, saying your name in a whisper as your expression mirrored Jake, but yours was more of a realization filled one rather than a horrified one. 
“Jeno—” you breathed out, your body on display for him. 
“You know each other?” Jake asked, glad he still had his clothes on for this interaction. 
Jeno didn’t answer, only striding forward to where you were on Jake’s bed, pulling you as you yelped, wasting no time in kissing you. Jake only scoffed, pushing Jeno off you. 
“She’s with me,” he said, possessiveness in his tone. 
“She’s been with me for years—” Jeno was smirking, and you gasped. 
“Guys, you don’t have to fight,” you said, looking at both of them before they turned to look at each other, clicking their tongues. 
“Want us both, huh? Still a needy little girl I see,” Jeno mocked, getting rid of his clothes just like Jake. 
“Want our cocks together, huh, princess?” Jake asked and you nodded, looking at them with shining eyes, whining to let them know how desperate you were. 
“You go first,” Jake said to Jeno without looking at him, while he flipped you around so your head was on his lap, right near to his cock. 
You gasped, “suck on it like a good girl,” Jake ordered, pushing his cock in your mouth, your eyes watering at how thick his cock was. 
At the very same time, you could feel slender fingers teasing your entrance, thrusting inside your pussy which had you moaning around Jake’s cock, “so wet,” Jeno mumbled, stroking his cock to lubricate it with your juices. 
“Fuck,” Jake groaned when you screamed at the stretch of Jeno’s cock, who had his hands wrapped around your waist as he pumped himself in and out of you. 
You couldn’t remember if you ever felt this full in your life before, mouth and cunt full of thick cocks had you drooling and clenching uncontrollably, “I missed this tight cunt,” Jeno rasped, pistoning harder.
“You like that, baby?” Jake chuckled, his thumb collecting your tear and taking it to his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. 
“Oh, yes she does,” Jeno smirked, spanking your ass, “she’s clenching like crazy, ever so desperate,” his deep voice only led you to your first orgasm, shaking harder when Jake let you breathe, pulling his cock out of your mouth. 
“Fuck! She’s dripping,” Jake observed, and Jeno let him take over switching positions so you were laying on your back. He sat down next to you, tapping your cheek to open your lips, pushing his cock in you for you to taste yourself. 
Jake didn’t wait either, the thickness making your back arch, brain clouded as deep grunts resonated the room, which felt misty with the scent of your activities. 
“That’s it, princess,” Jake cooed, slamming his hips on to yours, faster by each second, your toes curling and eyes closing with overstimulation, even more so when the two boys started playing with your nipples, pinching and twisting them, Jake paying attention to your sensitive clit, rubbing slow circles with the pad of his thumb. 
You felt as if you had reached the highest you could ever feel, being fucked dumb, their praises mixed with degradation only sent you to your edge, whiny curses leaving your lips in an incoherent manner. 
“Fill her up, she likes it,” Jeno said, his cock twitching in you, and Jake groaned, his own orgasm approaching. 
“Of course she likes it, look at her being a needy fucking mess for us,” Jake chuckled. 
Both of them couldn’t hold back any longer, and neither could you as Jake emptied his balls deep in your cunt, Jeno doing the same in your mouth, his cum leaking out of your mouth. 
You felt yourself blanking out, crying as you squirted all over Jake’s length before falling limp in their arms. 
They worked in sync, Jake caressing your back gently as Jeno got you water, and you looked at them with stars in your eyes as you breathed out, directing your words to both of them. 
“You own me now.”
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THANK YOU FOR READING!
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bratfiction · 14 days
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DILF!simon is rotting my brain rn and i need more<3
consider this a follow-up to this post.
18+ CONTENT, MDNI -> themes & warnings: f!reader, heavier / plus sized!reader, mentions of weight gain, pregnancy + parenthood, simon is a handsy pervert (out of love) in every scenario, some sneaky bathroom sex.
many grueling months fly by and as expected, a baby is born. and yes— as cliché as it may sound, everyone and their literal mothers were right when they said all the discomfort and fussing would be worth it the second you see your pudgy, bundle of joy. a baby girl with wispy blonde hair and a scowl that could rival her father’s any day. she’s perfect. the spitting image of all the best parts of you and simon combined and oh, you’re crying again just thinking of it.
your shared world becomes a whirlwind of bottles and pacifiers and diapers, and neither of you would trade it for anything ever. not even simon who’s sure that your beautiful but screaming baby is definitely helping him go grey quicker as more time passes. until she’s eight months and mostly babbling instead of screeching— has rolls of fat on her arms and legs leading up to her tiny hands and feet, shiny eyes, and cheeks that make your hearts melt into puddles. again, she’s perfect. your whole family agrees, too.
as simon says, your whole entire fuckin’ family— he wasn’t too happy when they shared they’d be visiting. mostly because you already have too much to worry about and now being a pretty, little host is thrown into the mix. you don’t seem to mind much as you walk around the get together with the baby on your hip, checking on everyone to see if they’ve helped themselves to enough food while your baby giggles along. his two sweet girls.
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“thought i’d never catch up t’you,” he gruffs behind you.
you hear the sound of him placing his can of beer down on the kitchen counter and before you can move on your feet to grab another out of fridge for him, he stops you.
“enough,” it’s not harsh. it’s breathy and amused— “just relax for a second, mumma. everyone’s fine, babygirl’s with your mum. breathe.”
breathe. maybe you forgot how to do that today.
at that, you melt against simon. you rest your dewy forehead against the stone wall of his chest and he’s quick to pat your head, to trail a hand down your back in a soothing caress. he doesn’t mean to reach the hem of your sundress. just happens naturally, and so does the way he grabs up your thighs that have gotten deliciously plump under the stresses of motherhood. filled you out in all the right places that he already loved so much. he could haul you up and have you right there— “simon, we can’t.”
“think we can do whatever we want in our house, dollie.”
you hate when he’s right, and you hate how you let him yank you into the bathroom down the hall of all places. the click of the lock makes whatever anxiety hanging around in your chest finally dissipate. you’re hoisted up onto the sink before you can bat your lashes at simon, and the next second you’re wrapped up in a nasty kiss he places on your lips. it’s nearly all tongue as you whimper into his mouth, tugging at his shirt while his own hands make quick work of your dress.
the material becomes bunched up around your squeezable waist, exposing your comfy panties to simon and leaving you half bare— “we’ve gotten too comfortable with quickies,” you cant help but whine the words out.
you miss the days of him laying you down and making you cum until you just can’t take it anymore, and vice versa.
“i know, i know,” he attempts to soothe you through sweet, rough kisses. “gonna take good care of you soon, promise.”
you nod along to his words. only to softly gasp when he finally pulls your undies to the side.
simon always takes a second to play with your pretty cunt, rubbing a thumb through your messy folds and circling your clit how you like it. loves to watch your thighs lock up and hear you squeal his name like you used to when you first started dating— some things will never change no matter how settled down you two are. his cock aches in his jeans as you pussy drools around nothing. you’re about to open your mouth, about to tell him you both need to hurry.
but he’s already unbuckling his belt, eager to make you forget that there’s other people in the house aside from you two for even a few minutes.
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murdrdocs · 4 months
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bsfs!dad coryo + very slight blood play + age gap (r is 18+) + adultery MDNI
the drought growing on your tongue is quickly being satiated by coriolanus snow's saliva. it's wrong, literally swapping saliva with your best friend's dad, but it's truly not your fault. it's not like when you awoke in the middle of the night and wandered out of your best friend's bedroom you were seeking out her father.
truthfully, you were going for a glass of water and maybe hoping to run into mr. snow along the way. but this is way more than a run in. with your ass digging into the thick wood of his desk, his hands shamelessly roaming your scantly clad body. you're glad you decided against putting on actual bottoms before leaving the secluded four walls of her bedroom. you much prefer the feeling of mr. snow's hands against your thighs over the warmth from the fleece of your pants.
his hands grip the flesh of your thighs, he peels away from your lips to provide enough room for him to speak. "up," he orders, and you don't have to be told twice to situate yourself directly atop the mahogany.
mr. snow kisses you harder then, stepping between your spread legs and pulling your ass closer to him. your shorts ride up, leaving your bare bottom to drag across the wood with a harsh squeal. it's uncomfortable, it stings a little, but mr. snow kisses it better with pecks along the side of your neck.
"you think you can be quiet for me?"
he speaks directly in your ear, inciting a chill that prompts goosebumps along your arms and legs.
your answer is quick. "yes, sir."
you can feel him smile against you at the formality, definitely not used to it from his bratty daughter or anyone else your age.
"good girl."
being quiet is harder than expected. when other men fuck you, most of the time it's like you have to will yourself to make any noise. now, it's the opposite.
you're biting onto your bottom lip, the skin already broken from rolling it in your teeth earlier in the night. when you feel thin liquid coating it, you know you've caused bleeding, but you just lick it away and continue because it's the lesser of two evils. you either bite your lips raw, or moan so loud your best friend inevitably wakes up.
she knows her parents marriage is failing, just as well as you do, and her waking up and finding you missing would make it easy to put two and two together.
seemingly on the same page as you, mr. snow shushes you. his face close to yours, his nose brushing against the skin of your cheek. he presses a little kiss to your lips, not commenting on the blood that transfers and instead licking it away.
"gotta be quiet, doll. you don't want her to wake up, do you?" you don't know if he's referring to his daughter or his wife, but neither would bring a good outcome.
you shake your head, fumbling around behind you in hopes of finding something to ground yourself. maybe something to muffle your sounds if you're lucky. instead, you find paper, likely plans for the next hunger games. nothing useful to you now.
coriolanus is ahead of you. he reaches to the side of you and stuffs a fabric into your mouth. it's not until you taste the tanginess and smell the sweet musk that you realize it's your panties. he even kisses you over them, a wicked smile on his lips.
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huramuna · 4 months
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foxfaced, dragonhearted - oneshot.
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dark, mean prince regent aemond x wife reader
for my 200 followers poll, i've actually had this one cooking for a while so i'm happy this option won! this is absolutely filthy, i'm sorry in advance.
word count: 2.4k
i don't do taglists any more unfortunately, its mostly because i never remember and then feel bad about it so i've made a second blog just for reblogging my fics! @huramuna-fics -- follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings!
content: slight dub-con, smut (specifics below cut), angst, mean aemond, toxic relationship, like in no way is this healthy, good god, smut with little plot, reader is described being from riverlands w/ auburn hair and brown eyes, no use of y/n, not beta read, i literally went into a haze writing this there are probably mistakes
tonight you belong to me - patience & prudence • vampire - olivia rodrigo
warnings: p in v, choking, breath play, dom/sub, degradation, creampie, cockwarming, orgasm denial, breeding, aemond is so mean here thats its own damn warning
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Aemond knew what he wanted and the sacrifices that needed to be made to get such things. He wanted a dragon, it took an eye to get it. He wanted the Conqueror’s crown, it took his brother being burnt to get it. He wanted a legacy that would surpass his lifetime, etched into the very being of Westeros itself. The sacrifice needed for this would be to chain himself to a woman he likely wouldn’t be interested in.
That is where you came in. 
You were sweet, he supposed. Sweet in a way that made his teeth ache. Sweet in a way akin to a mouse and how it looked up at the cat just before his jaws snapped around the mouse’s head. 
He didn’t need to like you. Many marriages were forged in dislike or just plain indifference, set to a mutual goal. He supposed your mutual goal was children. All he needed was to use you as a vessel, a womb for his seed to take hold. 
You poor thing, you didn’t really understand that he didn’t truly care for you. You were nice enough looking, of course– hair that reminded him of autumn leaves, always styled in some intricate style with half a hundred braids, dozens of pins and decorative pearls. You reminded Aemond of a fox, dark eyes against muted auburn fur, lips always pursed, sniffing the air in search for hounds on your tail. You certainly were a skittish, jittery little thing.
The marriage was a quick affair, done at the Sept two days after Aemond wore the Conqueror’s crown for the first time. You weren't a part of some major house, all of the major houses were too close, too greedy, their breaths hot against his neck as they shoved their wedable daughters at him. The last thing he wished for was to be indebted to some trivial lord who thought his name elevated him to the same stratosphere as Aemond– a paltry lady of some low house bred in the Riverlands would do just fine, he expected his Valyrian seed to dominate any of their week genes anyhow.
He had met you once before, many years ago before he lost his eye. When he was forced to tag along on some meager diplomacy meeting with his grandsire– he remembers it as being forced, but in reality, he wished to attend. What else was a second son with no dragon to do? – and you had been there, hiding behind your father’s trousers. You had been wearing a blue dress, he remembered this distinctly, as it stood out against the ruby red of the apple you had offered him. 
Aemond had tried to speak with you, but you only communicated in nods and soft noises– something you only partially grew out of. He never understood why he remembered this girl, as you were insignificant in the seas of faces he’s met over his life. Mayhaps it was your quiet nature that he remembered, something that, now at his age and state of mind, struck him as malleable, easy to mold into what he needed you to be. 
And so it shall be. 
It was about two and a half moons after your marriage, he returned from a late council meeting. Rubbing his eye, feeling the familiar thrum of pain right behind the socket, he was already in a particularly sour mood. The council meeting had gone south, ending in most of the lords bickering over one another like children. 
It irritated Aemond to no end, the strain of an oncoming headache ever looming. He still struggled with intense pain from his eye, or rather, his socket and severed nerves. The pain was debilitating at times and if anyone dared to test his patience when it was particularly bad, he would snap at them like a cornered animal, no matter who it was. 
Raising his head, he noticed the hearth was still going strong, multiple candles still lit in the solar, despite it being late at night. The now familiar crop of auburn hair was peeking from behind the couch— his wife was usually never up this late. 
“Why are you still awake, wife?” he asked as he took off his gloves, clenching and unclenching his fists. 
“… reading. I was waiting for you.” you murmured in your usual hushed tone, the sound of your book closing was louder than your voice. 
“I told you not to do that. It’s unnecessary.” he grunted in response, undoing the latches of his leather doublet. 
“I-I don’t mind it… I just sleep a bit easier…” you continued, no doubt twiddling the end of your braid between your fingers— an anxious habit.
“You need proper rest. I won’t have my wife looking like a sleepless, sloven mess,” Aemond chastised, discarding his shirt. “Now, what are you reading?” he was becoming increasingly irritated with you, feeling as if he had to force you to take care of yourself and unlatch you like a leech from him. When you looked upon him with your wide eyes filled with uncertainty and fear, he felt the overwhelming urge to wrap his fingers around your throat and squeeze until you passed out or mayhaps went limp, like a doll.
“Oh,” you slid the book towards him on the side table, it was a book on the history of Old Valyria and its language, usually used for children to begin speaking it. “Nyke j-jaelagon… naejot ēdrugon… va ao.” I wish to sleep next to you. 
Aemond’s brow furrowed. “What use do you have to learn High Valyrian, wife? Issa dōna ābrazȳrys mijegon nykeā notion isse zȳhon bartos, wanting naejot gūrēñagon mirros ziry daor.” My sweet wife without a thought in her head, wanting to learn something she cannot. 
You reached for the book, your comprehension not skilled enough yet to pull what Aemond was saying to you. Before you could grab it, he slammed his hand down on the book, effectively snatching it from your grasp. You pouted her bottom lip. “I want to learn… mayhaps it might bring us closer together.” 
Aemond scoffed, the sound sending a sting of pain right into the core of your chest. “We are as close as we need to be, little one. We are married in the eyes of Gods and men and we fulfill our marital duty by trying to produce heirs, hm?” He placed the book back on the shelf. “This nonsense of wanting to be closer is moot. I won’t hear of it anymore.” 
A glaze of sorrow flashed through your eyes before you got up from the couch, tightening the housecoat around your shoulders. 
“Come to bed,” he said, moreso as a command than a suggestion. “I know you are cold, ābrazȳrys.” Wife. 
You made a small noise of discernment, crawling into bed after him. 
He looped his arms around you, pressing you to his bare chest. He radiated heat like a furnace and was quick to warm you up– you were always so cold, he noted. He surely hoped that your children together would inherit his fiery blood and not the weak-willed, uninsulated Andal blood you possessed.
Aemond bounced from being indifferent to you, paying you no more mind than a maid or a whore, to needing you, every part of you. He didn’t see you as a person, moreso an extension of himself, latched onto his body until he consumed you entirely, your bones fusing together as one. To him, you were a doll or plaything to entertain him, testing the mettle of your will, to see if you were of poor craftsmanship and would break. He had always broken his toys as a child.
You could tell by the rhythm of his breathing, he wasn’t going to sleep just yet– you’d become very attuned to his moods, his small intakes of air against your neck causing your skin to prickle into goosebumps. His lips ghosted over your throat, one of his arms coming up to wrap near the base of your windpipe, not yet applying pressure, but the threat was there. 
No, it wasn’t so much as a threat than it was a promise– he quite liked applying pressure to your airways when you coupled, his lone violet eye centered intently on yours as they went from wide to half-lidded, soft whimpers of pleading to stop, sometimes for more, more. He relished in holding your very life in his hands and you let him. 
“Mayhaps I should get you a collar, wife,” he hummed, his voice husky and deep, reverberating deep within your chest as your heart pounded. “But I think you like my hands much better, don’t you?” 
“Y-yes,” you breathed, the small swallowing bob of your throat felt against the palm of his hand, causing him to grin. “... I fancy them– on my tender neck… between my legs…” you responded, feeling slightly bold at the notion you put forth. The heat of his body permeated your skin, warming your core into an ever familiar feeling.
Aemond all but growled at your comment, positioning the both of you to where you were laying with your back upon him, as if you were lazing upon him like a chair. “Feeling courageous tonight, are we? No matter, my dear, you will break all the same,” his mouth pressed to the shell of your ear, teeth nipping at your lobe. “Like every night before, and every night to come– your life is in my hands,” he enunciated this with a squeeze to your neck, eliciting a small mewl from you. “Is it not? Say it.”
“M-my life– belongs to you, husband,” you managed to squeak out.
“Not husband, not now. You know the rules.”
“M-my king, your grace,” you rephrased quickly.
He clicked his tongue in slight admonishment. “A bit slow on the take tonight, little one,” Aemond muttered, slotting his leg between yours and kicking your thighs apart. “Keep them open.” his voice was dripping with something between venom and sticky sweet honey. He felt akin to a God every time he was in the sky, every time he sat the throne with the crown on his head, and every time he rested his hand on your pretty little throat as he sheathed himself to the hilt inside of you so easily, so free of resistance. “So slick for me, just from the smallest of chokes– fucking whore.” he hissed, starting a slow, deliberate pace as his hips met against your bottom. The pair of you were like two threads, intertwined with his legs pretzeling around yours, keeping you spread open. 
Your breath hitched in your throat as he continued to bully that sensitive, spongy spot within you– but you craved so much more, feeling waves of heat emanate from your sensitive bud as it screamed at your brain, begging to be touched. You made the critical error, thinking your husband was too focused on his own pleasure to notice you going for your own, as your hand slowly descended between your legs, rubbing small circles upon your pearl.
How wrong you were.
His arm came up further, his bicep pressing to the bottom of your chin, his free palm slapping your hand away from yourself. “Are you truly fucking stupid tonight, wife?” he spat, stilling his thrusts. “When did I say you could touch yourself? Have I fucked you stupid already?” Aemond huffed in frustration. “My poor, dumb wife– you cannot do anything right, can you?” he slid you off of him, then flipped over to loom atop you, taking both of your hands within one of his, his large hand encapsulating your wrists with ease, trapping them above your head. 
You sniffed, tears welling at your lash line, threatening to spill– not just from his downright mean admonishments, but from your stolen gluttony, your pleasure stolen so close to the precipice. “‘M sorry, your grace,” you cried, “Forgive me.”
“You’re lucky you have such a sweet cunt,” Aemond mused, his immodest and downright sinful language going straight to your core as he nestled inside of you once more, menacing atop you like a darkening cloud. “I forgive you– and will even pleasure you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To come?”
You nodded fervently, your lamenting tears spilling over and running down your cheeks.
“I’m feeling quite generous, then– I’ll let you. If you beg me.”
“P-please–” you blubbered, “Please let me come, my king.”
A sickly smirk came over his face once more as he pushed forward again, not bothering with the slow and meticulous pace he had before. His hips slammed into yours as he surged into you, as if you were nothing more than a cocksleeve for his pleasure. And yet, and yet– his hand didn’t move to the apex of your legs, chasing his own high before he would give into yours.
“Aemond, please, please– please touch me, f-fuck, your grace– my k-king, please!” you were all but wailing now, half in ecstasy and half in pure beseechment, pleading for just some semblance of the lecherous, stimulating and lewd sensation that only he could give you.
He took mercy on you, the pad of his thumb zeroing in on your leaking folds, giving your clit a cheeky pinch. It was a delightful pain– that was what being with Aemond was, what it came down to. Every waking moment with him was thrilling, sublime, agonizing, unending torture– and you fucking loved it. 
Your mouth hung open, you were sobbing freely now, your lips quirked into a euphoric and maddened smile. “Thank you, tha-nk you, t-thank you, I love you, I love you,” you gasped, your lungs ballooning with air as you begged him further, “P-please, around my neck–” 
Something animalistic came out of Aemond at your request, his hand draping around your throat like a necklace. “My sweet, dumb wife– you don’t know what to do unless I tell you, unless I let you, unless I guide you to your release, hm?” he prostrated each word with a deep thrust. The combination of his ministrations on your bundle of nerves, the head of his cock callously beating into your sweet spot, and the squeeze of his hand around your neck– it was enough. 
With a garbled string of words, prayers, denotes of love, pronouncements of his prowess, his titles, his name– the coil inside of you snapped, lighting every nerve you had in your body on fire. You saw stars as your climax wracked through you like a tempest, the absolute vice grip of your core sending Aemond into his own completion, his seed painting your walls and then some.
In your fucked-out delirium, you thought you might’ve heard him say something– you didn’t decipher it until later when you were half asleep, his softened member still lodged inside of you somehow as he curled you into his chest.
“My love, my wife– I love you.”
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boinitwdidthat · 1 year
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// Imagine - Them meeting a hybrid Na'vi (and falling for them) Pt. 1 //
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>( Neteyam, Lo'ak, Aonung)<
>The boys meeting their first Omaticaya/Metkayina Na'vi (Gn terms, they/them)<
>Neteyam<
First running into you on the sands threw him off kilter
Literally, he ran into you and tripped on accident
"Ah, sorry- I should've been looking," He stood quickly, holding his arm out to assist you. Allowing him to really witness you for the first time.
Looking at your skin, almost seemed mythical. The splotches of teal and deep blue standing out beautifully to the sands. However, it was your eyes that captured his interests most.
Instead of either strong yellow or blue, they portrayed a pale green. Almost matching some of the younger plants he had seen coming to your home lands, and truly some of the most unique he had explored.
"Thank you," You grabbed his arm to stand, lightly dusting yourself off afterward. At last, you look up at him, smiling gratefully for his help. It was then you remembered the boy, familiarity showing in your excited voice.
"Oh! You're one of the new people! From the farther lands!" He bounced his head jokingly, appearing to mimic your excitement.
"Yes, you're one of the first people to sound happy for meeting me," He chuckled to himself before holding his arm out again, this time for a proper greeting.
"Neteyam," You reached out, his grip was definitely solid, and more textured than you expected. Curiosity grew in you for the reasoning behind it, but almost feeling embarrassed to ask.
"(Y/n)," As you shook, Neteyam's gaze couldn't seem to stray away from the various differences on your body. Even finding similarities to his own, but not recalling seeing any other villagers like you upon arriving.
Unless there was some secret section to their people for others like you.
His stares did not go unnoticed though, as you let go of his arm and began to shift away.
"Well, I've got to go fufill my duties for today so.." You slid past him, grazing his shoulder, "I'll see you around Neteyam."
As you began to leave the awkwardly growing silence, Neteyam's voice called out behind you.
"(Y/n)! Wait!" His body jogged back next to yours, mouth flapping silently for a moment. "I've been trying to learn about these lands, but I haven't been able to find any help. Could you- possibly, help me? It would give me a chance to talk to someone other than my family for a while." His smile boyish as he scratched the sand off of his arms.
"Uhm, yeah you can help, just can you.." You gesture gently, trying not to seem aggravated, "stop the staring thing you've been doing?"
He closed his mouth, definitely appearing apologetic.
"I'm sorry about that it's just, I've never seen one such as yourself before. It's so-"
"Weird? I know I've heard it all already," You turned away, hurt by his impending reaction. But, it wouldn't have been a new one, so it's best not to cry over the small things.
"Beautiful," Hi voice seemed to echo as it reached your ears, freezing your form in place.
Hesitantly you began to turn, after all, this could still be a cruel joke.
"You look like a gift from the Great Mother herself," his face was now a deep blue, reminding you of the depths of your oceans.
"I- thank you," You were reveling in this shock, too stunned to notice his body moving closer once more.
"So, if you'll still have me," His arm gently nudged against your own, "I really do wish to learn about your lands, but I wish to know more about you too." Eyes bearing into you, as if every inch of your soul was visible.
"Well, if you truly want to join," Leading the way through nearby shrubs, you motioned for Neteyam to follow.
"Now, just how can beauty such as yours," He gestured to your being, "Come to grace my feeble eyes." His joking manner pulling a small laugh from you at his antics, attempting to lighten the mood once more.
"Well, my father is of these lands, one with the waters. But, my mother was a woman of the trees.."
>Aonung<
Seeing you arrive with the other mutant bloods, he didn't expect you to be any different.
But when he truly saw you, he knew that wouldn't be the case.
You looked like his people, but not at the same time. Your hands were like his, not the tree boys, yet you had their skin too.
It wasn't until he was in charge of you for the swimming lessons that his questions became overruled by fascination.
"Okay, you need to breathe from here," placing his hand on your stomach first, watching your first breath come semi-easily.
"Wow- that was actually pretty close, are you sure this is your first time?" His smug smirk flustered you, increasing your heart rate out of balance.
"Yes, I'm sure," His hand removed as his body adjusted, displaying his intent listening for you. "I've lived among the trees all my life, it was my father who lived one with the waters."
Shock flooded his mind, spilling over to his face. He'd never heard of such a relationship among his people. One among the trees and one from their waters, having a child? Let alone a person breathtaking as yourself
Breathtaking? It was true, you're obtuse skin tones seemed to meld perfectly in his eyes. Tail neither wimpy, nor fully his own in similarity.
Your body markings held his eyes the longest though, each one dipping through the shades similar to a river line on his peoples maps.
"I've never thought there were children born that way," He maneuvered towards the rock you had been resting on, vaulting up as to sit next to you.
"Yeah, from what I remember they loved both cultures," You motion to the various decorative beads adorning your body, "Each is a separate piece from their home. I was going to learn about this place when I reached age, but then the sky people came.." He sat and watched as your eyes slowly dulled at the mention, and attempted to cheer your up.
"Well," His body slowly slid back into the water, "I can teach you our ways, but you've got to give me something else in return. Deal?" His hand reached out, offering a curious deal, you took a few moments to consider.
"Deal" Your grip was strong, but didn't match the slight wrinkled callouses on his own hands.
"You have to sneak out with me tonight, so I can give you a 'guide' to our night-life nature," His grin was almost devious towards your reaction, a look of appalled theme clouding your face.
"What- fish boy! I can't just sneak out for the wishes of a virtual stranger!" Letting go, question flashed his face until realization followed-suit.
He hadn't gave you his name this entire time, how badly he wished to sink into the waters and vanish was astounding.
"Yes- I'm Aonung," His arm stuck out a second time, before retreating back.
Too much hand holding for a first meet, already shook once, a second time isn't needed. Until your airy laugh brought him back to reality.
You were laughing at his expression, one of confusion towards his own actions.
"Hello Aonung, I'm (Y/n)," His name rolling off of your tongue had flutters running about his stomach, and odd feeling definitely as he took in your features once more.
Tsireya's voice broke through your small dome of solitude, bubbly excitement infecting your own.
"C'mon! I wanna show you the canals, the eggs should be hatching soon!" Hand grabbed, she jogged you away from the lessons, having deemed enough learning has been done today.
"Okay! Tsireya you're going to rip my arm off!" Your rambunctious laughter slowly fading to the distance, as Aonung watched your forms retreat further and further away.
You were. . . new. But not weird to him. If anything, he was excited to teach you the other ways of your blood.
"So, fish boy," Lo'ak's arm wrapped his shoulder, "how's it feel falling for a tree hugger." The smug bastard was reveling at his reaction, face swiftly flushing to deep cyan anger, before shoving him away stomping off. Away from responsibilities for the day.
All he could do now was hope his sister wouldn't torment him too much about this later.
>Lo'ak<
Lo'ak loved his father, really he did. But sometimes, when things escalated and words are exchanged, he can't help but feel as if he'd never been wanted.
His mother claiming these arguments only happen because Jake sees so much of himself in Lo'ak. But that reasoning can only last so long in the boys mind before it starts to sound like an excuse.
Today had been one of those days, having gotten into trouble again the lectures began to muddle together.
Eventually, he simply left the undergrowth, wanting at least some time to himself before inevitably they come looking for him.
Venturing out, he glanced around searching for any seldom reserves these people could be hiding.
That's how he came upon your form, kneeling among the grasses, almost statuesque.
You were holding some plant, examining it as if your life purpose hid within its leaves.
Tearing his eyes away from the majestic plant, to your lingering figure, still hyper focused in on the nature.
His eyes scanned your features, curiosity wailing in his mind, all he wanted to do was ask you questions.
Were you from his people, or the water clans? Remaining the largest in his head, he definitely saw you as an enigma.
Your head turned his direction, having felt a chill go down your spine, as if someone was watching you . Proving your suspicions to be correct, the lean boy stood frigid, mind racing through all of your eccentricities.
What attracted him to most to you, was your decor. Wearing both beautifully woven pieces from his home, but also intertwined with some of these lands.
Witnessing how the delicate ropes and beads fell onto speckled skin, his questions won him brain over in the end, as he slowly made his way over to your nook in the juncture.
He remained in a low crouch, as if moving to fast would startle you.
"What are you doing?" The tone accusing yet confused as he gazed up at your question.
"Huh?" Standing dumbfounded now, a few feet away from you but all the more able to save every feature of yours in his memory.
"Why are you crouching like a baby?" The smile on your face grew as his eyes widened, seeing his antics as the most ridiculous you've come across in a while.
"Oh! Uhm," His posture straightened, "I was just- examining the bugs." His smile felt tense, so after reveling in the comedy for another minute you loosened up, motioning for him to sit down.
"The life in these lands are, gorgeous," His eyes focused on your arm bands, one woven with the leaves of a tree from his clans lands.
Your eyes followed his, sighing in realization at what drew his attentions, the sigh slightly startled Lo'ak, as he quickly averted back to your face.
"It's one of my mothers pieces," You held out the band, gently placing in in his palm, grazing you fingers back as if hesitant to let go of it entirely. "She was not one with the ocean, instead she lived among the forest."
His face contorted at the statement.
"Really?" His astonishment genuine, his final straw for if this was some stray prank, trying to prove the tree boy stupid.
You fully turned to face him, taking his larger palm in yours before displaying your the various blues on your hand.
"I didn't take after one or the other," pressing his palm to yours showed the matching blue splotches, "Instead Eywa gifted me with traits from both of them."
His eyes did not move away from your connection, feeling the subtle softness on your finger pads. Clearly you hadn't climbed trees in the same way he had.
Sensing your growing sadness, he came up with an idea.
"Have you ever," the opposing hand gestured wildly, "tried to climb as your mother did?"
Pale jaded eyes meeting his prominent yellow, before silently shaking your head no.
"Well, as repayment for intruding on you like this, I can teach you the ways of trees. Just as I was raised."
His smile was radiant to you, almost disarming the dismissal you had planned on giving him originally.
"I don't know.."
"I promise, if you let me teach you I won't let you fall," The smile shifting into one of a smirk as he addressed your nervousness.
"Well," He hung on almost every detail from your words, "If you promise this won't impose on my duties as well, I'll attempt to learn your ways."
"Our ways," His hands doubled, gently sliding your mothers band back into place.
'Yes', you thought back to your dual nature.
Our ways
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holycryptid · 10 days
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low honour!arthur morgan x virgin!reader
this is really just one long-winded fic idea that i need to speak into existence.
tags: literally save a horse ride a cowboy, afab!reader (feminine pronouns, descriptions, and names used), religious topics/imagery, obsessive!arthur, virginity kink, age gap relationship, loss of virginity, corruption kink
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Reader is in her early 20s, privileged to come from a family with wealth from their heritage and inheritance in the oil industry.
The era of cowboys and outlaws has started to become a thing of the past from the shifts in climate and industry throughout the country. Reader has resided in Saint Denis her whole life, never needing to worry about gangs, outlaws, or even cowboys.
She has never even seen a cowboy before, but she’s heard stories; none of them particularly pretty. The presence of law enforcement throughout the streets and the sheer distance of Saint Denis from other towns is enough to deter most of them from causing trouble.
Functionally, she should never be compatible with a cowboy.
Her father has always preached about her waiting for a “good, proper man” that can marry her into another family with obscene wealth. And so, she protects her chastity and innocence just as she is expected to—just as her father expects her to.
Hell, she doesn’t even know how to ride a horse! Her father believes that riding horses is beneath them, so anywhere she wants to go is accommodated by a stagecoach.
Cut to: reader is accompanying her father on a trip to Annesburg to discuss potential investments in the mining industry. He hates leaving her alone. She knows he worries that she’ll get “up to no good”.
Her father has chosen one of their more comfortable, flashy stagecoaches for the longer ride, giving him more storage for his financial documents and whatnot. A perfect target for gangs.
And, inevitably, they get robbed.
The robbers’ faces are all concealed by hats and bandanas, and one of them ties her arms behind her back with careful hands before guiding her to her knees on the wet grass.
The man who tied her up stays close by her side, and she can see her father pleading for his life to another man who’s not listening.
“Are you a cowboy?” Are the first words she says to him, not a note of fear in her doll-like eyes that make her look so fuckable in this position with her on her knees next to him, dress billowing out around her form.
He looks down at her confused. “Uh, once, I suppose.” His voice is a little muffled by the black bandana hanging over his nose and mouth.
She can see that his hair is so long that it starts to curl up and out at the ends under his hat.
“Well, you got the hat. And the horse,” she reasons, wondering if she’s truly meeting a cowboy under circumstances she thought she’d never be in.
He looks to her again, left hand causally hooked in the leather of his belt as he waits for the rest of his gang to finish up. “I guess you’re right.” He tips his head to her in agreement.
“Leave them! These people are leeches. Let the wolves decide their fate.” A man with a deep, booming voice announces atop his white horse.
Now she starts to panic.
She pulls against the rope around her wrists, looking up to the man who tied her as he begins to walk toward his horse. “Wait! Mister, please! Please don’t. Please,” she yells to him.
He looks back to her, then his horse, then back to her again. “Hold on.” He signals to the man on the white horse before walking back over to her.
“Take me home. Please just take me home, mister. I won’t say nothing, I promise, but just take me home and I’ll give you anything you want,” she begs to him.
He sighs, but not out of annoyance or hesitation for her request. He sighs because he has no idea what she has just done to herself.
He places his bandana over her eyes and leads her to his horse. He unties her hands and lets her blindly climb into the saddle, legs shaking from unfamiliarity.
When she settles, she blindly grips onto the saddle horn for dear life, wishing her father let her ride at least once in her life so she wouldn’t appear so delicate in this situation. The man chuckles off to the side before mounting up behind her. She notices the saddle is not quite meant for two as he pushes in tightly against her ass, seemingly not even concerned about it.
This is probably the closest she’s ever been to a man.
“Where to, miss?” The man leans forward against her back to grab the reigns, caging her in with his arms.
She tells him in a quiet voice, and he kicks against his horse, setting them into motion.
When they arrive at her French two-story home on the outskirts of Saint Denis, the man dismounts swiftly, hand circling her wrist before saying, “Swing your right leg over and I’ll help you down.”
She slowly brings herself around, feeling the man lock his hands around her waist to guide her to the ground.
He tugs at the knot holding the bandana around her eyes, and she doesn’t let herself turn around until she feels he’s had enough time to tie it back around his face.
“Thank you, mister,” she whispers.
He tips his hat and leaves without another word.
In the following week, the man watches her after the sun sets. He watches her pray before bed and change into her silk nightgown, waiting for the night he can maybe finally see the more explicit side of her. But it never comes.
She’s perfect.
Eventually they cross paths again one day. The man purposefully chooses to ditch the bandana, too.
“I don’t think my daddy would appreciate me talking to someone like you,” she admits slyly as she continues her trek into Saint Denis.
The man follows beside her on his horse, left arm lazily hanging down by his side. “Someone like me? And who’s that?” he asks, a slight smile also on his lips.
“A cowboy. An outlaw,” she says, sneaking a glance up to him as his horse steps in time with her down the path.
“Well your daddy ain’t here.”
“No, mister.”
“Come for a ride then.”
And that’s how it’s starts for them. He introduces himself as they ride to his gangs camp, and she complains about how sore her legs are when they arrive.
“You don’t ride?” Arthur asks, intending for it to be a joke.
“That was my second time. Ever,” she laughs.
And that’s when he understands what type of lady he’s dealing with, so he goes for it.
“Maybe you should practice on me sometime,” he remarks, untacking his horse.
She wonders if she heard him right. “Uh, mister—”
“Arthur,” he corrects.
In that moment, she realizes he can teach her everything her father has kept from her, show her everything he had protected her from. Throw away the innocence and chastity and truly experience what life should be. But Arthur doesn’t know the entirety of her sheltered life. He needs someone like him.
“Arthur…I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for,” she admits. “I…I’ve never been with no one. Ever.”
“You’re untouched, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir. Just as my daddy said I should be. Until marriage.”
And Arthur makes it his mission to make her experience her own sexuality in its completeness, so he starts off slow.
He would always touch, never breaching her or letting her do anything to him. The focus was always on her.
Her virginity and pureness made him conflicted: he wanted to ruin her in all the ways she has never been, but he wants to tease and rile her up and watch her experience all the sexual frustrations for the first time.
It was cute. The more bold he got with his touches, the more bold she got in trying to take what she wanted. He would take her behind a tree and slowly lift up the dainty material of her summer dress, gathering it in his left hand as he used his right to rub her clit through her underwear while he licked and sucked along her neck, careful not to leave marks.
She would get weak so fast, Arthur could barely handle how virgin her body truly was. She would grip onto the leather straps of the rifles hanging down his back, trying to force his hand harder and faster.
However, the first time he made her cum was an accident.
He confidently placed a gentle kiss on her lips while they were alone in his tent—he just wanted to see how she would react.
She leaned in and returned it, snaking her hands around his neck and pulling him down to her. He pulled her into his lap, laying them down on his cot as they started making out like a long-distance high-school couple.
Arthur mindlessly starts grinding against her, ignoring the clothing separating them. She doesn’t realize what she’s feeling as Arthur’s hard cock slides against her clothed pussy.
Her orgasm just kind of happens.
Arthur watches her shake and twitch under him as he pulls away to see what happened. The wet spot on her underwear is all the evidence he needs.
Ever since, she’s been insatiable. She wants Arthur to show her everything. Teach her everything. She wants to feel everything if that means she can cum like that again.
Around the campfire she’d sit on his lap, tightly circling her hips against him until he’d grow hard before stopping. Then she’d do it again.
Arthur would mostly ignore her teasing. He didn’t want her to know how much she was driving him up the wall, so he’d retaliate in a way that was ten times worse then whatever she did just to prove a point about her innocence, how she knows so little compared to him.
The first time they fuck, he makes the horse riding joke again: “I’m sure this’ll be good practice for you, sweetheart.”
She huffs a laugh, rubbing his cock through her folds as she straddles him. He’s built up her confidence so much, it’s all been leading to this.
He’d guide her up and down, back and forth, testing her body to see what she likes. Seeing what spot makes her tremble.
He finds it. “Fuck, there it is,” Arthur groans.
She can’t even think. She doesn’t know what to think. She’s doing everything her father told her not to.
Premarital sex.
Premarital sex with a cowboy.
“Oh, Lord, forgive me,” she prays, her pussy sliding so perfectly along him as he grips her hips harder.
Eventually, he’d eat her out in her childhood bedroom. Her father sleeping in the room above her own, separated by the thin wood of the floor. She arches against the bed, and her eyes meet the iron cross hung above her bed frame.
She’d often ask him to leave the hat on, and he’d laugh, pleased that she is slowly adopting sexual preferences and interests.
She was his perfect, sophisticated woman that he was free to defile and poison with his desires.
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noisycroissant · 6 months
Text
Our Sweet Wife
Nanami × Reader × Toji
Bonus chapter
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You had been promised to the prince of the kingdom before you were even born. You knew this day would come, it was inevitable. You'd been trained how to be a consort from the minute you could walk in a straight line. Classes upon classes on etiquette, history, diction, even on how to walk and dress worthy of a royal consort.
What you didn't know was that the kingdom was ruled by not one, but two princes.
Born to different mothers, they were as different as night and day. Toji was as dark as a moonless night: pitch black hair, jade green eyes, scars to commemorate every ruthless battle he'd been in. Kento was fair as a summer's day: light blonde hair, erudite, there was no one in the kingdom who could win against him in a battle of wits.
Everyone expected the half-siblings to fight it out for their birthright, possibly ending in one's death. But surprising everyone, even their own late father, the brothers had joined forces. Brawn and brains, together their kingdom prospered. They shared every victory, every decision.
And now they're going to share you.
Their promised bride.
*******
"Relax Kento, this is not the first time we've been with a woman," Toji drawled lazily from the couch he was lounging on.
"Of course not. But you have to admit this is different. In all aspects. She's a princess. She was literally raised to be a consort to a king. A king, singular," Kento's voice rose a pitch as he got his thoughts out, "We do not know how she will accept us."
"She knows what she's getting into, Kento," Toji responds, his voice low and comforting, "Just be ourselves, that's all we need to do."
"But..." Kento's protest was cut short by the guard announcing your arrival.
"The Lady Consort, your graces," announces the guard, as you're ushered into the grand bed chamber. You keep your head low, the cloak covering your head and most of your body. Not that you were wearing much, a simple lace nightgown was what your handmaidens dressed you in.
An outfit designed and selected to confirm a consummation.
The guard turns on his heel and leaves, and you're left standing there, goosebumps rising on your arms as you feel eyes on you. You slowly raise your head to see them.
Your husbands. Plural.
*******
Toji moved first. For a man his size, he was extremely light on his feet. He flips the hood off your head and snaps the cloak off your body in seconds.
You stare at his face, taking in his green eyes, the sinful smirk, that slight scar across his lips.
"She's certainly a feast for the eyes, Kento," he says to the blonde man behind him.
Kento moves behind you, a reassuring hand at your lower back, trying to stare down the wolfish grin that grows on Toji's face as he drinks you in, "I apologize for my brother. Restraint is not one of his virtues."
"He's right, but the things I can give you while restraining you..." Toji responds suggestively.
You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry. But you feel a warmth bloom in you belly in the position you find yourself in.
Between two strong men, their scent and voices making your senses heady.
You know what's going to happen tonight. You'd fought a silent dread for years now, wondering how you'd muster courage on your consummation night.
Maybe you wouldn't have to. Your husbands look like they know just what to do with you.
"Maybe a bath first?" Kento suggests, breaking you out of your thoughts.
"Wonderful idea, as always, brother," Toji says as he walks towards the bath chamber, stripping off his clothes along the way.
Your face heats up as you catch a glimpse of his toned back muscles.
"He's a bit of an exhibitionist. Don't let it get to you," Kento says, trying to ease your mind. "We've been so looking forward to seeing you since the ceremony last month. Our lovely bride. I hope you'll be happy in our kingdom."
Kento's smooth voice quiets your nerves and you let him lead you towards the bath chamber.
Where Toji already sits in the giant tub of warm, sudsy water.
"How about Kento gets in, and then you take your time to disrobe and join us?" Toji suggests, his eyes glinting with mischief, "Would that be easier for you, princess?"
You did not miss the teasing tone stroking the way he called you princess. You'd been called that your entire life, but never in that tone.
You dart behind the changing screen and peek through the gaps to see Kento undress and enter the bath.
"Any time now, princess, we're waiting!"
You slowly emerge from behind the screen, the skin of your face and chest blooming colour as heat and shyness shoot through you. You remember your lessons and walk perfectly poised right into the bath, where the men promptly move towards either side of you.
The warm water, the desire rising through your body, the heat radiating off your husbands' skin....you were close to passing out.
"Take a sip. It'll cool you down," Kento passes you a goblet of chilled wine which you gratefully drink.
The alcohol flows through you, calming your nerves, you lean back and let the warm water soothe your muscles.
*******
Toji's thumb touches your chin and he gently moves your face closer to his. "May I kiss the bride now, princess?" You nod and his lips press against yours, his warm tongue licking the seams of your mouth seeking entry. You open and moan deliciously as Toji kisses you like he's tasting you.
You feel his hand move towards your stomach, your hands shoot out and grab Kento's for support.
"Skittish little thing," Toji whispers against your lips. Kento takes your hand and kisses his way to your neck. You turn to him, a moan caught in your throat, let out when he kisses you just as deeply if not more.
Kento tastes like the sweet wine he gave you. You try to mimic the movement of his tongue and he hums in approval. He moves down, kissing your jaw and your neck, grazing his teeth along the lobe of your ear. You let out a small whine as you feel Toji's breath on the other side of your neck before his teeth gently grazed the skin.
"Princess, are you getting all hot and bothered?" Toji whispers in your ear.
You feel your cheeks redden as you realise that you need more. More hands touching you. More of their lips against your skin.
Kento takes your lips in his again while Toji gently tells you, "I'm going to touch you now. I'll be gentle, sweetheart."
You moan as you feel his rough, calloused fingers slowly flit across your thighs, higher and higher, till they reach your pussy.
"You're soaking down here, dearest," he says as his finger slowly move into your pussy and stroke your clit. You jolt, breaking Kento's kiss.
"Touch her with me, Kento. Let's give our wife her first taste of pleasure," Toji says, not breaking eye contact with you.
"Anything for our sweet wife," says Kento as his fingers easily finds Toji's, but moves lower towards your opening. He gently eases in a finger, making you buck up.
The sensations were too much, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you, making your legs weak. Toji kept rubbing slow circles on your clit, increasing the pressure every now and again, whispering the dirtiest things you'd ever heard and moving his tongue along the shell of your ear. Kento's finger touched places inside you that you'd never dreamed could bring you such pleasure.
You lean back, their voices and touch going to your head, making you dizzy with want. "I--- I'm going to cum..please I..I can't," you gasp out.
"What lovely first words to hear from our wife, eh?" Toji snickers teasingly as he rubs your clit faster and faster. He wraps a strong arm around your waist to ground you as Kento slips in another finger and moves it in a come hither motion, touching that perfect bundle of nerves inside you.
You come apart as your orgasm hits. Your body goes stiff as your moan wantonly, burying your head against Toji's shoulder.
He holds you as you come down from your high. You lift your head to see Kento licking his fingers clean of your slick. Your eyes widen in embarrassment as Toji tells you, "The night's only beginning, sweet thing."
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2rats1gogh · 1 month
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I know people have this fantasy that Helaena would marry some Stark, Tully or Tyrell but a fantasy is truly what it is.
If she married Aegon or not, Helaena was never going anywhere. She claimed one of the biggest dragons in the world as a child, a female dragon who has laid eggs. Her only choices were always going to be one of her brothers or her nephews HAD THEY NOT been bastards. Or maybe it would have been a Hightower cousin, or one of Corlys Velaryon’s nephews but whoever her husband was, he was never going to be the Warden of anything or the Lord of his own castle. Helaena was never going to leave Kingslanding.
Alicent may have wanted her daughter close to her to protect her because of Helaena’s nature and because of her own experiences as a child bride but Viserys (who doesn’t know Helaena or give a damn about her personally) was definitely not marrying Helaena out to someone powerful and putting more trueborn obstacles in Rhaenyra’s way when he already had 3 trueborn Valyrian looking sons who would marry someday.
Targaryen daughters may marry out for a generation but their child is expected to marry back in. Daella was married into house Arryn but Aemma was married back in. Also to note that Daella was a second wife and her husband already had heirs, Visarra had she not died would have been married to a Lord who had already married several times and had already had heirs. Their sons would hold no lands, raise no armies full of vassal houses of their own. Rhaenys’s mother married into House Targaryen and Rhaenys married into house Velaryon and gave house Velaryon 2 more dragon riders in addition to herself. Thats why bringing her line back into the family was an important issue for the Targaryens. Helaena- a Dragon rider who could be fertile as her mother in her early years- would’ve given a non Valyrian house Valyrian blood and more potential Dragon riders.
Say Helaena marries an inheriting son of some Lord Paramount. Let’s give her 2 future Dragon riders and possibly a third as Maelor was too young when he was murdered at Rhaenyra’s request. This is 4 Dragons to whichever house she married into. These 4 dragons have an entire army behind them. They have legitimacy. What if her husband and father in law decide that the throne should be her son’s (like Rhaenys attempted to secure it on behalf of Laenor at the Great council) because Rhaenyra committed treason, sons are bastards and by law they can’t inherit anything (it’s high time we acknowledge that Rhaenyra, Laenor, Harwin, Viserys and Corlys were all breaking the law or complicit in the breaking of it.)
Team Black would hate Helaena Lady of house Stark/Tyrell/Tully/Lannister/Martell with a husband and a supportive extended family to back her because she would always choose her family over Rhaenyra’s like she does in canon.
So people need to stop blaming Alicent for this and realize that Helaena’s options were very limited and remember that in this world it’s normally a Father’s job to organize their daughter’s betrothals. HOTD seems to have thrown this piece of Lore out of the window in favor of trying to make Alicent look like a villain and for stupid scenes like Rhaenyra proposing the betrothal of the twins to their Grandmother instead of their father that she’s married to and lives with.
Literally this.
I never understood why it was so difficult for people to understand why Alicent decided to marry Helaena to Aegon. It always made sense to me personally. There are two main reasons to this:
a) Helaena is a very vulnerable girl, more vulnerable than anyone. By marrying her to Aegon, Alicent keeps her close to herself, in KL, where no one could hurt her.
b) Helaena as a dragonrider is very valuable. If she marries to some remote lord and then they pledge allegiance to Rhaenyra for whatever reason, TG is fucked and they lose a dragon. They need Dreamfyre if they want to win this war.
Helaena also couldn’t marry Jace or any other of Rhaenyra’s bastards, for a very simple reason. They are literally bastards and everyone knows it, and she would’ve become a hostage during the Dance. Also, the realm most likely would never accept Jace as a king, because no matter how kind and nice he is, he is still a bastard and that would cause a lot for problems.
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hees-mine · 2 months
Text
𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 - 𝐋. 𝐡𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭. 𝟏𝟎 (𝐞𝐧𝐝)
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Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader
Warning: angst, fluff, cursing, crying, taboo relationship, single dad.
Genre: 18+, best friends dad, smut, single dad, taboo relationship, minors do not interact!
WC: 2,432k
⟱⟱⟱
Ever since you and Heeseung were able to reconcile, everything was going perfectly. You worked your schedules around his daughters, lining them up perfectly so you both could have some time alone rather that be him at your house after work, you at his house after school, or like right now when you skipped school cause you “weren’t feeling well” needless to say heeseung was happy, and so were you.
It’s been about three weeks since you both patched things up and agreed you’d continue to see each other behind his daughter's back and so far, so good you and him were both relaxing on the couch together. He was behind you, spooning you in his arms, nuzzling his face into your neck, and placing soft kisses on your cheek here and there, making you smile.
It was silent in the house his daughter was at school, and it was just you and him cuddling lovingly on the sofa, just enjoying each other in the comfort and silence of his home.
Until the front door swung open abruptly and revealed you and heeseung looking far too close to one another.
Your friend stood stunned at the door, mouth agape, as a shocked gasp left her lips.
You and Heeseung’s first instinct was to get off the sofa and pretend you weren’t doing what she thought you were, and that probably wasn’t the best move considering your lower halves were in your undergarments, leaving little to nothing to her imagination about your guy's relationship with each other.
“What the fuck is this?” She’s obviously angry at you both, but you didn’t expect anything less. Her face held a look of shock and disgust, and you had to look away from her, far too ashamed of what you had done with her father as you tried to cover yourself.
“Sweetpea, I can-“ her loud voice interrupted him as she turned to you.
“Y/n, I can’t believe you.” She sounded hurt and betrayed as she looked at you with tears welling in her eyes, and it made your heart ache.
“I’m sorry.” Before you could barely get the words out, she had run upstairs with Heeseung calling out to her.
“Please listen,” he pleads, voice soft and vulnerable.
“DON'T FUCKING TALK TO ME EVER AGAIN!” She slammed her bedroom door shut.
“Fuck” Heeseung sat on the couch, face buried in his hands in complete utter shock and disbelief that you both got caught. His daughter was literally supposed to be out for another hour, so why was she home so early, and why didn’t she call him like she always does before getting home? “She’s never talked at me like that before.” he ran his fingers through his hair, staring blankly around the ground, eyes not moving from their spot, and at the moment, he looked so broken.
“Heeseung, I'm sorry,” you whisper, trying to hold back your tears. As you sat next to him, you tried to touch his shoulder and comfort him, but he shook your hand off and scooted away from you.
“I think you should go y/n,” he tells you regretfully, his brows pinched together in deep thought.
“Hee-“
“Just go, y/n. I really need to be alone with my daughter right now.” he stood up, put on a pair of pants, and walked upstairs while you sat on the couch, absolutely mortified about what had just happened, and you couldn’t help but think that you had lost your long time friend over a secret relationship with her father.
After the initial shock, you got dressed some minutes later and went home, your heart feeling heavier than it ever had, especially cause Heeseung wouldn’t even let you at least be there for his support, but you understood it was his daughter. You know just how important she is to him.
“Sweetheart,” Heeseung said softly. “Can I come in, please?” he talked to his daughter through the door but got no response. “Pumpkin, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Could you please let me explain?”
“Go away” is all he hears, followed by sniffles, and it breaks his heart that his own daughter is crying because of him.
“Angel, please let me in” he knew the door was locked, but he twisted the knob anyway. “I can’t stand it when you cry, you know that,” he says, feeling tears prick his eyes. This situation was so fucked up, and it’s all his fault. If only he had never looked at you as more than his daughter's best friend, none of this would have happened.
He stood there for about ten minutes, and still no response. He waited and waited for hours, but she never answered and never let him in. He finally gave up and trudged to his bedroom, feeling utterly helpless.
-
Weeks persisted on like that while Heeseung had absolutely no communication with you whatsoever, and not knowing what was going on was killing you inside. You wanted to call Heeseung, but he was probably already stressed enough, so you left it alone.
“I made your favorite sweetheart. I’m sitting it outside the door, okay?” heeseung was working overtime to get his daughter’s forgiveness making special breakfasts every morning and leaving little notes under her door apologizing over and over again even offering to drive her to school everyday which she very rudely declined and it made him feel like shit because he couldn’t even do the simplest of things for his daughter all because he was selfish and decided to start a relationship with you one that he knew was wrong but he couldn’t help himself.
“Breakfast is ready.” It was only after five whole weeks that his daughter had finally decided to open the door for him, and he was happy, to say the absolute least. “Hi, sweetpea!” He says excitedly, not being able to hold back his excitement from seeing his daughter’s face after months.
“I forgive you,” she muttered, and he smiled even wider finally. His heart was put to ease this whole time apart. He couldn’t help but think about worst-case scenarios of his daughter never talking to him or wanting to see him again, but thankfully, that didn’t happen because now he had her forgiveness, and he would never make another mistake with her ever again. This is all he’s ever wanted, and maybe now you and him could finally be together with each other from now on, no more secrets, just mending relationships. “But whatever you have going on with y/n has to end, and tell her I don’t want to see her face ever again.
Heeseung feels his heart shatter in his chest, his smile fading within an instant, but he quickly composes himself. “But she’s your friend,” he tries to reason because this couldn’t be it between the two of you. You were both best friends for so long. “Your best friend,” he adds, trying to get her to change her mind. “Surely y/n’s just as sorry as I a- “
“I don’t care how sorry she is, best friends. Don’t betray each other's trust. What she did is unforgivable,” she states with anger in her tone.
“Sweetpea, it’s not just her. It’s on me too,” he tries to defend you.”
“You’re family, she isn’t. I don’t care about her anymore now. Just end it.” she thought about it, and though what he did was upsetting to her, at the end of the day, heeseung was still her dad, and she didn’t want to be at odds with him even though he lied and went behind her back with her best friend.
“But-“
“What’s more important, my happiness or her getting her way after ruining our friendship?” Her words put him between a rock and a hard place.
“Angel, don’t do this. Don’t make me choose. I love you and y/n so much. She makes me so happy, and I can’t lose her,” he begs with sincerity, but at this point, it’s too late. He has one option or the other, and neither of them has a happy ending.
“Love? You know nothing about love 'cause if you did, you wouldn’t have done this to me to us,” her voice cracked slightly.
“Sweetheart, I do,” his voice came out in a whisper. “Just let me explain.”
“It’s too late for that. Now, figure it out in your head. It’s my happiness or yours, and just so you know, if you choose her, you might want to watch your back. I’m sure she’ll betray you just like she did to me,” she scoffed. “But after what you did, I’m sure you know more about that than love itself.” She shut the door in his face, leaving him hurt and conflicted.
-
Heeseung thought long and hard about it, but there was no way around it, and there was also no way he would ever pick you over his daughter, and that was final.
After that conversation with his daughter, he was able to get his head clear and realize he never wanted you to begin with. His daughter was right. He knew nothing about love cause if he did, he would have never done what he did. He was wrong, but he was going to rectify everything today and move on from this awful chapter in his life.
He finally called you over after months of no contact, and you immediately answered the phone almost like you had been waiting for his call, which you absolutely had. You were dying to hear from him, hear how he was doing, and see if his daughter was okay.
Heeseung called you to come over so he could end things face-to-face. He thought about just texting you so he could respect his daughter's wishes of you never stepping foot into the house again, but she was at school right now, and this was the least he could do after what he was about to tell you.
“Hey, come in.” he offers you a seat on the couch, and just sitting down brings back painful memories for you.
You recounted that day you got caught with her father, and you went over it time and time again, thinking of ways you could have prevented it from happening, but the damage was done. Now, there’s no going back, only forward to try and fix this mess that you had a part in creating.
“So?” You ask nervously, a hint of a smile on your face, praying that the news would be positive. Maybe he explained to his daughter the love you held in your hearts for each other, and maybe, just maybe, she gave you both her blessing, but that was all wishful thinking cause his next words made you sick to your stomach.
“We’re done,” he tells you, and your heart sinks. “I thought about it, and my happiness isn’t more important than my daughter, and neither are you, so it’s over between us. We’re never going to see each other again after today. I have to focus on what’s important.”
“You’re joking? After all that, it’s just done. We’re over?” You scoff in disbelief.
“Yes, and my daughter doesn’t want to see you here anymore, so don’t come back trying to fix things,” he tells you emotionlessly.
“Let me at least talk to her.” The words barely come out before he dismisses your request.
“No”
“This can’t be happening, hee. This isn’t fair to us,” you say, feeling a lump forming in your throat.
“Please don’t call me that anymore. What’s not fair is what we both did to her. I should have done better as a father, and I didn’t, but now that I have a chance to fix my mistakes, I’m going to take it.”
So that’s what he thought of you? You were just a mistake to him?
“So all that just down the drain, years of friendship gone? And our relationship just done?” You couldn’t help the son you let out. This was literally killing you inside. You’ve never felt so much pain; the man you’re in love with was just throwing you away like yesterday’s garbage and calling you a mistake.
“Yes, y/n, what the fuck are you not understanding? It’s over. We’re done,” he raises his voice.
“You know what, fine, whatever,” you stood up. “I knew I should have never gone behind her back to be with you. I should have never listened to you, but I trusted you because you said you’d make it work. Turns out I was wrong,” you shouted with tears in your eyes while he sat there unbothered, but his mind was made up. Nothing you said could change that. “Why didn’t you just let me leave? Why did you pursue me? This could have all been avoided.” Tears streamed down your face as your hands shook uncontrollably.
He just sat there silently, and you don’t know what’s worse, being called a mistake or not getting any type of closure now that your life had been ruined in the time span of five minutes.
“So just tell me this one thing: did you ever even love me like you said? Cause you’re giving up so easily?” You asked, knowing the answer would probably crush your heart, but you had to know if it was all just a waste of time or if he really loved you cause even if things were over, you’d still cherish those good memories of you and him together if his feelings were real.
“I thought about that, too, and the answer is no. At the time, I thought I did, but I didn’t,” he replies. “I was just lonely, and you were there to keep me company, and that’s it. I regret it all because I almost ruined my relationship with my daughter for someone who means nothing to me.”
Yeah, he felt kind of bad, but it had to end. He knows he was selfish and fulfilled his needs, wants, and desires at your expense, but he couldn't take it back now.
You felt like your whole world just came to an end. You went through all that with him, spent time, effort, and emotions, and even lied for absolutely nothing, just for him to lie and say that he loved you when it turns out he was lonely; he broke a true friendship and a relationship cause he was just lonely. “Okay, well,” you said shakily as you stood up and made your way to the front door. “I guess this is goodbye for the last time.”
⟱⟱⟱
Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback.
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oneeyedoctogod · 8 months
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Gods this fandom sometimes, I swear. I'm sorry I read two deeply bad takes back to back, and I have to rant. I'm sure others have said it better than I, but really. Come on. I actually have to wonder if people who talk about the extras actually read them because...
Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji didn't leave the cultivation world in canon. They elope, and then they come back. The fact they're not involved in the bigger politics is... pretty much to be expected, but they very much do participate in the day to day lives of the Lan sect. They go where the chaos is to night hunt, they teach, Lan Wangji comforts his brother in his seclusion, and Wei Wuxian meets some new Lan disciples.
As for the cottage fantasy... Again, I honestly have to wonder if the people talking about it actually read the extra it's in? Because it's just that. A fantasy. A dream. It's basically a representation of Wei Wuxian's wants for a domestic life, something he definitely has now! He's always been characterised as someone who wants to help others and who loves cultivation. Why would you think the dream is to be taken literally?
And the idea that Wei Wuxian has 'several important relationships just floating there', that he's not dealing with... Where? Which ones? He teaches the juniors and grows closer to Jin Ling. He doesn't exactly interact with Lan Xichen, but he asks after him. He meets Mianmian again and wishes her well. He asks after Wen Ning after Lan Sizhui comes back then has some father-son bonding moments with him!
Nie Huaisang and Wei Wucian aren't close. They were friendly once, but they didn't ever meet after the lectures. I don't see how that qualifies as an "important" relationship, especially with Nie Huaisang never openly admitting to his part in Wei Wuxian's resurrection. But even then, Wei wuxian says he'll be keeping a close eye on him, so one can imagine they meet again at some point.
As for Jiang Cheng... what more do you want Wei Wuxian to do exactly? Even if you want a reconciliation, why can't Jiang Cjeng be he one to actually grow up and do the work for once? He's the one who never apologized. He's the one who is still openly hostile in the extras. If Wei Wuxian wants to move on and not interact with him, he's well within his right to do that, given how Jiang Cheng treated him. Hell, he's more generous than most since he encourages Jin Ling to talk to Jiang Cheng. If I'd been treated by someone like Jiang Cheng treated Wei Wuxian and saw him hit our nephew several times, I certainly wouldn't encourage them to meet. (But that's Wei Wuxian for you, the moral ideal and better than all of us.)
Anyway, I really don't understand why people insist on making Wangxian have a sadder ending than the one they actually did. It's a HEA for them, sorry guys. And yeah, maybe Wei wuxian has some trauma to work on... but the whole point of the character is that he doesn't let his trauma define him. That he wants to forgives, forgets and moves on.
(Also, just because he doesn't have a breakdown or the cultivation equivalent of therapy in the extra doesn't mean he's not working on them? He finally is at peace, with a solid support network. Maybe he does talk about his past hurts with Lan Wangji - Lan Wangji certai ly knows when to comfort him when he needs it. But the narrative point of the extras is to show they're moving on from the past! And you know what, sometimes the beat thing to do to heal is to do just that. They're living their best lives, deal with it.)
And finally... shit did you really read the whole book and come to the conclusion Wei Wuxian should have 'learned to accept help'? Who the fuck offered help? Who did he refuse?
(Don't say Lan Wangji. 1) I love him, but "Come back to Gusu" is very much not an obvious offer to help, and when Wei Wuxian understandably misunderstands him, he never manages to correct it.
And 2) once Wei Wuxian tells him explicitly he's not leaving the Wen remnants behind, Lan Wangji understands and backs off. He approves! I'm sure he'd do more if he could, but just like Jiang Yanli, he can't!)
Jiang Cheng literally said, 'No one will help you, no one is on your side' (and then made sure that was true by saying Wei Wuxian was the enemy of the cultivation world). Jin Zixuan chose to ask the one who was ambushed to disarm rather than the 300 cultivators attacking him and lunged at him when Wei Wuxian refused to comply (because he'd be killed if he did!!). How is that help?
Who else tried to help? Whose help did Wei Wuxian reject?
Wei Wuxian was presented with a series of bad choices and took the best he could, the ones aligned with his principles, accepting he'd have to face consequences at some point but also knowing it was still worth it. He's not the one who failed or made a fatal mistake or betrayed his word.
Rant over. Sorry about that.
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five-bi-five-mind · 8 months
Note
request where you’re rossi’s daughter and work for the BAU and you and emily start dating but keep it a secret until you get hurt on the job and she won’t leave your side and saying that she loves you and when you wake up she kisses you in front of the team and everyone is like, “yes!!” and rossi is just confused
Overprotective
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader
Genre: Angst, Hurt & Comfort
Words: 7k+
Summary: Ever since you and Emily entered a relationship, she got a little too protective of you. It didn't help that she was also your boss, but still you didn't love that she was holding you back from doing your job. It also didn't help that your father figure worked with you, that was two people holding you back from your job. So when you finally put your foot down with Emily and got out in the field once more, none of you expected what would happen next...
Warnings: Blood mention; hospital scenes; mentions of car accidents; mentions of head trauma.
A/N: I'm so bad at descriptions... Anyways, this is my own take on the request. And also proud of myself for kinda posting three fics back to back. This one is a lil late but still one a day so far. Yayyyy 1k celebration continues lol
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Emily was an overworrier. She always had been, but when it came to you.. well, she took things to a whole new level.
To say she was protective of you was an understatement and honestly it caused some tension in your relationship. She had been in the BAU far longer than you, but you were an agent too and had been for a few years now. Either way, even if Emily was your girlfriend, in the workplace she treated you like a rookie. 
Most of the team just thought she was hard on you. No one really knew that you two were a little more than colleagues. It hasn’t even been long since you two realized you had feelings for each other, but as soon as you did everything just clicked. You both fell fast and hard to say the least. 
And in that time Emily got more and more protective. There were some curious eyes, people had their suspicions. One person in particular changed the way he looked at your interactions and any time he was near, it made your palms sweat and your stomach twist. Rossi was always one to keep a close eye on you. He was protective too, just like Emily, if not even more so. It wasn’t like you could blame either of them though. 
Rossi was the closest thing to a father you ever knew; he watched you grow up and make your way to your position at the BAU. He never pulled strings, he never asked for favors. Rossi made it clear that you earned this position and everyone who worked with you saw just how true that was. So of course, he was a proud and protective man when it came to you. Just as Emily was a proud and protective girlfriend.
But as you and Emily got closer you could tell it piqued his interest. He would linger in a room if you two were left behind by the rest of the team. He'd stop and peek around a corner if he saw Emily get a little too close when she needed to discuss a case. You weren’t blind either, you were trained to notice things and you definitely noticed the way his brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what was going on.
He even asked you about it once, approaching you with innocent curiosity to which you tried your best to shrug off.
His question was simple, he had you trapped in a car as he was driving you home so his timing was perfect. You literally couldn’t avoid him without jumping out. So when he said “do you want to tell me what’s going on between you and Emily?”  All you could think to answer was “it’s complicated” and, yeah, that was true. 
Luckily for you he just gave you a skeptical “alright, kid.” Before turning his attention back to the road. The amount of relief you felt when he didn’t pry any further was immense. 
You told Emily that night over the phone that he questioned you and she tried her best to keep her distance from you in public ever since. The overprotectiveness was still there, but so was this awkward silence that happened whenever another member of the team was alone with the two of you.
Not only was Emily’s overprotective nature a problem, but now so was all this secretiveness. Something which you point blank told Emily needed to change. She was hesitant, worried about how it may look for both of you, but especially you. The man who raised you was on your team and now you were dating the boss. Yeah, some people might point to nepotism, but your work spoke for itself. Plus, the team knows and respects you enough to understand that wasn’t the case. 
Emily still refused and insisted you both wait a bit longer, to which you begrudgingly agreed. You didn’t love being a secret but you also weren’t about to leave the woman you were head over heels for just because of a tricky situation. 
So when you agreed to wait you still let Emily know you both couldn’t hide forever. Her overprotective nature would get her busted, or Rossi would see something he shouldn’t, or hell maybe another member of the BAU would put the pieces together. Both of you were, after all, surrounded by profilers. It was everyone’s job to be perceptive. 
Emily still exuded confidence when she said she was sure it would happen on both of your terms. Of course, not everything is that simple. Especially not after today. 
—————————————————————-
This case was brutal. Many people had gotten injured in their past pursuit of the unsub and each time the unsub slipped away. The team had been on this case longer than most and was following as best they could. 
You were deep in this case too, following every development and giving your insight as best you could. Emily was not happy. She insisted you stay back at the police station you were helping rather than be out in the field. Even more, she had tried to convince you to stay all the way back at Quantico, but of course that wasn't going to fly. You won that fight by convincing Emily if you stayed back her exaggerated concern for your safety would be evident and people would get suspicious. She was frustrated, but she agreed. 
But even then as you two made your way to the precinct for this case, you both argued back and forth. Emily begged you to stay still and work behind the scenes, but you weren’t going to do that when the rest of the team was putting themselves in direct danger. That included both Emily and Rossi. 
“It’s not like you wouldn’t be helping! We need a member there, to keep an eye on what comes in.” Emily was so stubbornly insistent. 
“Okay, but that’s what the general police force is for.” You tried your best to stand your ground. “I’m going out in the field with the rest of you, Emily. I’m tired of being sidelined, because you don’t think I’m capable.” 
“It’s not that!” Emily’s voice was raised as she tried to defend her position. Lucky for the both of you, this fight escalated in the privacy of your own hotel room. One that you very sneakily and strategically booked right next to Emily and no one else. “Even Rossi would say this is a bad idea.”
“Don’t bring Rossi into this! Of course, he’d say that he’s almost as bad as you are.” Saying Rossi would back anything up for Emily was just another sign that your girlfriend and your father figure were way too protective of you. It was starting to get very old very fast. “You know, Emily, this whole protective girlfriend thing is really not working out if it’s also interfering with my work here as part of the team.” 
“What are you saying?” Emily looked at you with skepticism in her eyes. You knew you were taking this argument one step further, but you couldn’t help it. 
“I’m saying that if we’re to have a relationship this has to be an equal partnership.” Emily was full on glaring at you now, but you weren’t finished. “We can’t have that if you shield me from everything like a child!” 
“I am not shielding you!” Emily threw back with clear frustration written all over your face. 
“Yes, Emily, you are.” 
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” Emily’s frustration dropped immediately at that and you almost felt sorry for the way you were putting your foot down. She looked vulnerable at that moment and genuinely concerned. You knew she was; you knew the thought of anything happening to you killed her because it did the same for you when you thought about her being in direct danger. Still, you were part of the team and you needed to pull your weight. You were not going to be sidelined just because you were the boss’ girlfriend. 
“I know that,” you sighed. “But you have to trust that I’m capable of taking care of myself while we work. It’s part of the job. I wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t.” 
“It’s not that I don’t trust you.”
“Then what is it? Really, Emily, what is it?” You felt that frustration bubble up in you again. “If it’s about worrying if I’d get hurt, don’t you think I have that same worry about you? But I don’t try to convince you to stay back. If you really trust my abilities as part of this team you wouldn’t be so up in arms about the idea of me actively working on this case. So do you? Do you really trust me as a member of this team?” 
“I do, but…” Emily trailed off. That “but” said it all for you and you just nodded. It told you she didn’t think you were as capable as the rest of the team, as skilled. You worked your ass off to get here and even your own girlfriend didn’t think you were ready for this position. That stung. 
“I think you should go,” you nodded towards the door to your hotel room. “I need time alone.”
Emily went to speak but stopped herself when you gave her a pleading look to at least respect your need for space. She looked almost like a sad puppy with her head hung low as she walked out the door. 
It wasn’t a great way to end the night, and the tension between you two was certainly palpable throughout the rest of the day. That is, until the accident happened. 
—————————————————————
No one saw it coming. How could they? The MO of the unsub was calculation, even when backed into a corner. So when the team got so close they found the unsubs home and you got the call to come quick, no one expected him to take off full speed in a hijacked car. And what was worse was the lack of eyes on where he went as he sped through a suburb to escape. 
You were riding shotgun while Alvez swerved the car around and whipped through the streets upon being informed that the unsub was on the run. What you were looking for was a man on foot, not even aware of his hot wiring abilities. So when a car rammed straight into the passenger side of Alvez’s SUV at top speed, shock flooded both your systems right before everything went dark.  
When you regained consciousness, if you could even really say that you did, all you heard were sirens and yelling. Hands were yanking at you and with each moment they jostled you, sharp pain shot through your entire body. There were sounds of gurgled coughs that hit your ears closer than the yelling that surrounded you and eventually, as you felt warm liquid drip from your lips, you realized those sounds were coming from you. The taste of iron in your mouth mixed with the horrible pounding of your head was making you nauseous.
Your eyes cracked open, but everything around you was a blur. You managed to turn your head, wincing in pain at that simple movement, and saw who was tugging at you. Even if your vision was severely hindered, you knew who it was.
When the accident happened, most of the team wasn’t far behind, leaving everyone chasing the unsub watch helplessly as he smashed into the car Alvez drove. When that happened, Emily made a mad dash out of her own SUV straight to where you were. Now, Emily was trying her best to tug the seat belt strapped to your body, her hands trying to check your whole torso. Your eyes moved to her hands, your head lulling further down with your gaze than you meant to move it as you tried to look. The blurred form of her fingertips were covered in a crimson red and it just confirmed your suspicion that you were losing blood. 
“Hold on, just– Just hold on, okay?” Emily’s voice felt like an echo in a tunnel, so far away from you. Still, though it only faintly hit your ears, you could hear her worry. Your heart squeezed, knowing that you were somehow the cause. You tried to will your hands to cover hers, not sure if they were actually moving for you like you wished. 
Emily stopped her frantic check of your body. “Help is coming soon, okay?” Her hands pressed to your face, your own blood smeared to your cheeks as she held your head up for you. “Stay with me, you have to stay with me. Keep your eyes open, okay?”
The words felt like they were getting further and further away, even if you were aware of the fingertips pressed to your cheeks. Your eyes squinted, as if you thought that would clear the fog that clouded your vision. It didn’t, but still you tried to hear Emily and to will yourself to listen. 
At this point, Emily’s hands were the only thing that was keeping your head from falling back. The strength to keep your eyes open and your head up was way too much for you. Your limbs were feeling heavier too, and your body was feeling cold, as if your veins turned to ice. 
“Hey, hey, hey,” Emily’s voice was pleading. “Keep those eyes on me, okay love? Keep them on me.” They were slipping; you were slipping. You could feel the heaviness of your eyelids as you gave all your remaining strength to keep them open. 
In the distance, you thought maybe you could hear the sound of heavy footsteps rushing up towards the both of you. Hands were on you again, this time rougher, as the ones on your cheeks were pried away.
“Ma’am, step back,” a voice ordered. You didn’t hear a reply, the horrible jostling of your body had another anguished groan rip from your lips. A sob followed, but you thought it couldn’t possibly be you. Your body didn’t feel like it was capable of doing anything else other than succumb to the pain. Before you could feel your body be fully removed from the mangled car, your eyes slipped shut. The last thought you had was of Emily’s request and your guilt for not being able to fulfill it. Consciousness quickly slipped from your body the minute your eyes fell shut, your head finally falling back. 
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She was a mess. The way you looked, so broken and bleeding in that car had been forever burned into her brain. The last conversation she had with you was replaying through her mind as her foot anxiously tapped on the hospital’s dull white floors. 
Half the team sat next to her. Each one of them looked the exact same as her, just as worried. Rossi was going through many different stages of emotions. Anger at what had happened, denial that you could even possibly be teetering on the edge of death, and then worry that he might never see your bright smile again. 
The car had been totaled, your side crunched in with many different injures scattering your body. When the paramedics came they dragged you away so fast without giving Emily the chance to come with you. Luckily, Alvez wasn’t too badly injured, a mild concussion and some cuts from the broken glass. Minimal stitches needed, so Emily didn’t have to worry about it. It was you that she was spiraling over. She had never hopped in her car and sped faster than she did today. The worst thoughts were going through her head all the while. 
What would happen if you died before she got to the hospital? What would happen if you died on the table? The worry that ensnared her made her hands tremble as she sat and kept rubbing anxiously at her knuckles. 
Your blood still stained her clothes too, but she had long washed it off her fingertips. Tara had recommended she get a change of clothes from the hotel, but she had adamantly refused. To most of the team, they thought she was just feeling guilty for giving in to your insistence on being in the field. Although, how anyone, even Reid, could see this incident coming, would’ve been impossible. 
Another good thing, if Emily could even call it good, was that the accident incapacitated the unsub. This easily allowed Reid and JJ to apprehend him and make the arrest. Meanwhile, Emily was busy running to you and desperately trying to find some possible way to help you from dying right there in front of her. There was a lot of blood, a lot of glass that shattered and slashed through your skin on almost all of your body. From small cuts, to large ones, from the few moments she had with you, it looked pretty brutal. Not to mention, now that someone had talked to her once she arrived at the hospital, that there was internal bleeding and you had quite the head injury. 
They had rushed you into surgery the minute the EMTs made it in with your broken body. Emily was informed of everything first, then Alvez since he was already at the hospital getting checked out. Maybe about twenty minutes had gone by since Emily was informed about everything before Rossi came bursting in. 
Rossi was definitely on a warpath when he arrived too, his worry for you turning into anger. At first he blamed Alvez for not being a better vigilant driver, then Emily convinced him to turn his anger towards her. After all, she was the one who let you go out in the field, but then when Tara came in during his tirade towards Emily, she was the key to keeping the peace. She was surprisingly calming for everyone that waited at the hospital for you. With Rossi, she redirected his anger towards the unsub until he settled down into his quiet worry that he was currently exhibiting now. Then, with Emily, Tara just urged her to sit down before sitting right next to her.
When Tara saw the way Emily was angrily rubbing at the skin of her knuckles, she placed a gentle hand over Emily’s. “I know,” Tara spoke softly. “But she’s a fighter, you know that.”
Emily looked up at Tara as she spoke, her eyes searching the other woman’s. Tara looked back at her with a knowing look, but one that also showed conviction for her own words. 
All Emily could muster at that was a nod, but her words did help. Emily knew you were strong, even if she was doing a shitty job of showing you that she thought that. Truth is, she knew deep down that no one could have guessed that this would happen. She knew you were right, she couldn’t keep shielding you from everything if you were part of her team. It wasn’t like she could’ve ever tried to shield you from this. It could’ve happened to anyone, not just a member of her team. The worst part was that, of course, it had to happen to you. 
Even if she knew she couldn’t shield you from what happened, even if she understood that it could’ve been anyone’s car that the unsub rammed head first into, there was still a harrowing part of her that told her this was her fault. If she had listened to you and put you in the field maybe you would’ve been fine. It surely would guarantee you were in a different place than that damned car. You’d be with Reid and JJ, two other capable members of the team, and not in a car completely oblivious to the dangers that hit you head on before you even arrived. Emily knew she couldn’t think like that, but she couldn’t help that she did. Usually she was rational, collected, she had to be in her position. Except, she never thought she would fall for a co-worker and she certainly didn’t predict her overbearing need to protect you that came with all of it.
But now, as Emily sat and helplessly waited for any updates on you, she began to bargain with herself. If you pulled out of this Emily would never stop you from going out in the field again. It was clear that her actions to keep you safe by keeping you behind were futile, so if you were in the field at least you would be with other members of the team. Capable members who had your back the same way you wanted to have theirs. To agree with you and let you go out, if anything, would stop you from ever looking at her with such hurt and disappointment ever again. That look, when you kicked her out of your hotel room the night before, haunted her.
Emily refused to believe that could possibly be the last conversation you had with her, the last look she got from you. Usually, you looked at her with such love and joy, but this was different. Emily had spent that whole night, barely sleeping, her thoughts wrapped up in the way you looked so utterly betrayed. If that was her last conversation with you, how would you ever know that she did trust you, that she did know you were strong and capable? It was just that you were the most meaningful thing she’s ever had in her life and she was still learning how to handle that. But she would do better if you pulled through. You had to pull through so she could get the chance to do better.
Luckily for Emily, she was pulled out of her thoughts by a doctor approaching the group. Emily shot up immediately when she realized she was about to be approached with news on your condition. Her body stood rigid, her hands still trembling and balled into fists at her side. Tara put a reassuring hand on Emily’s shoulder and Emily took a deep, grounding breath, able to calm herself a bit with Tara’s supportive presence.
“How is she?” Emily’s voice sounded raw as she spoke. Tears hadn’t been shed since she was ripped from your crumpled body, as she had stopped herself before she entered the hospital. Yet she was still a wreck with how many emotions were flowing through her and with how hard she was being on herself. 
“She’s stable,” the doctor reassured. “We found the cause of the bleeding and now she’s in recovery.”
“Oh, thank god,” Emily breathed out. It felt like her whole body deflated, all the fear she was holding finally washing away. There was still guilt and worry there, but now she had more reassurance that you would be okay. 
“Can we see her?” Tara spoke up, her eyes flicking to Emily for a brief second before they turned back to the doctor. Emily looked back at Tara, knowing that Tara was asking the question for Emily rather than herself or the rest of the team. So, it seemed your worries were right, at least one member of the team noticed the two of you. Although, Emily didn’t really care at this moment. They could all know after this, Emily wasn’t ready to hide her care for you, not when she almost lost you. Screw anyone who was watching, Emily just needed to see you and somehow, Tara understood that. 
“Soon,” the doctor replied. “She’s being set up with a room. She’ll need to stay and be monitored for at least a few days.” 
Tara nodded at this. “Thank you, doctor,” she responded before turning back to Emily. “I’m going to go get you a change of clothes and something to eat for all of us, okay?”
“You don’t have to-” Emily was cut off by Tara’s gentle hand placed to her forearm. 
“I don’t think you want to leave right now.” Tara gave Emily a knowing smile. “Go tell Rossi and Alvez the news, I think I saw Rossi switch to pacing down that hall,” she pointed to where Rossi had waltzed off to. “And then text me with her room number. I’ll be back.”
“Thank you,” Emily whispered. Tara just nodded and turned, leaving Emily alone to grab the two others. When the news was broken to Rossi, his whole demeanor changed. Just like Emily, all the fear fled his body, and he was left to sit next to Emily and wait. 
It was silent between them all as they waited for an update on when they could see you. Emily was trying her best to sit as still as possible, what with Rossi glancing over at her every once in a while. His gaze was scrutinizing now, rather than angry, but Emily still wondered if he blamed her for the position you were in. 
When they were finally told they could go see you, Emily didn’t hide her anxious scurrying. It wasn’t a race, but if anyone who didn’t know them saw the way both Emily and Rossi hurried down the hospital halls, Alvez in tow, they’d think they were competing for first place. Rossi got their first, Emily backing off since she figured she already did enough to anger him for one day. After all, he was practically your father, he should be the one to confirm you were okay first. 
As he got into the room, Emily heard him take a deep breath before exhaling in relief. Emily, however, did not feel any relief when her eyes settled on your unconscious form. There were angry bruises across your skin on any part of your body that was visible to her. Bandages wrapped around random parts of your arms, some small ones stuck to your face. The way you looked almost lifeless had Emily swallowing hard. It was only the steady rhythm of your heart monitor that reassured her, you were still alive. 
Rossi seemed to be in way better spirits as he pulled up a hospital chair to your bed and placed his hand on yours. “That’s my girl,” he said to your sleeping form. “Knew you were a fighter.” 
Emily’s heart clenched at the love he was showing for you. More guilt flooded her mind as she watched him look at you with all the love a father would have for his daughter. Emily swallowed hard again, her nerves spiking for some reason as she took a few steps closer to your sleeping form. 
Alvez was kind enough to pull a chair closer to your hospital bed for both himself and Emily. They both sat at the opposite side of Rossi and Emily couldn’t help but keep her eyes glued to him for a minute. Part of her wondered, as she watched him gently stroke the top of your hand, if he’d ever accept her as your partner now. There was a suspicion he held for her since you started at the BAU and got closer to Emily that made her nervous to go public. She trusted Rossi with her life and she knew he felt the same, but did he trust her with you? Would he ever after this? 
Her eyes fell back down to your face, noticing a lock of your hair fallen on your cheek. With a shaking hand, Emily brushed the hair from your face, her fingertips brushing your skin as she did. Your face twitched for a moment and Emily retreated her hand, her body perking up. This was the first time you’ve moved. Another reminder that you were pulling through, Emily cherished that tiny twitch of your cheek like it held all the meaning in the world. No one else seemed to notice, but this small movement made Emily think touch might be the key to having you open your eyes. And, while Emily understood you needed time to wake up from the whole ordeal, she also so desperately needed to see you open her eyes. 
Unfortunately for her, you didn’t wake up any time soon. The remainder of the evening, you stayed asleep, something that the doctors reassured all of you was absolutely to be expected. For hours, Emily held one hand while Rossi held the other. Eventually, Tara came back with a change of clothes, to which Emily begrudgingly agreed to rip herself away from you and change. They were also all given food, to which Rossi and Alvez gladly took, but Emily refused. Tara opted to just leave it by her, in hopes she would feel up to eating soon. 
When it was becoming quite late, Tara, Alvez, and even Rossi planned to return to the hotel. However, Emily insisted on staying right there, in that chair, for the rest of the night. There was no way in hell you were going to wake up alone in that hospital room, she decided. Tara urged Emily to reconsider, saying she needed rest, but Emily insisted she would be fine sleeping right there on that hospital chair. Rossi remained quiet the whole time, eyeing the two of them discussing Emily’s decision, before Tara finally gave in and left with the others.
Emily didn’t really sleep, her eyes were glued to you the whole time. Her hand left yours, only to stroke your cheek as you slept. She whispered different things to you, talking about how much she loved you and how badly she felt. It was heartbreaking for her to sit here with you, even if you were going to be okay, there was still part of Emily that wouldn’t trust that until she could look into your eyes and hear your voice. 
When the sun rose and you still hadn’t opened your eyes, Emily’s anxiety was through the roof. A doctor eventually came in to check on you and as he did, Emily couldn’t stop the flood of questions she forced onto him about your condition. She was reassured over and over again this was to be expected, you’d wake up when you were ready, and that you were just fine as far as they knew. What she didn’t like hearing was the last comment, “we’ll know more when she’s awake.” As if there was some hidden threat to your health and wellbeing that none of the doctors knew yet. She dwelled on that thought for far too long. So long, in fact, that when afternoon came and the team all filed in to see you, she was still chewing on that piece of information.
Rossi, upon arrival, sat right back where he was the night before. This time a little more relaxed, his hands cradling a cup of coffee rather than your own like he did the night before. He seemed more confident, less shaken. Emily wished she could say the same about herself. 
When Tara came in to see you, she stopped next to Emily, her hand placed gently on yours with a pitying smile on her face as she looked down at your unconscious form. “You need to wake up soon,” she whispered to you. “Emily’s worried sick and I know you wouldn’t want her to worry.” Emily watched, knowing that you probably didn’t hear any of those words, but hearing Tara say them gave her an odd sense of reassurance that it was okay to be more open about her feelings for you. Maybe if Tara knew, the others did too. And if they didn’t, well at least it seemed like Tara was in Emily’s corner. 
“As for you,” Tara turned towards Emily. “Have you left this room?”
Emily looked up at Tara sheepishly. She was busted. Of course she hadn’t left. What if she missed it when you finally opened your eyes? Or worse. What if she missed it if your condition unexpectedly took a turn? 
“I’m sure you haven’t slept either,” Tara continued. “You need to at least eat something and maybe also walk around a little. It will be good for you.”
“I don’t want to leave her,” Emily insisted. “Not yet.”
“She’ll be right here when you get back.” This time it was Rossi who spoke. Emily was shocked at this, he hadn’t really said much to her since he blew up when you were in critical condition. Emily didn’t blame him for that, but she did think it would take awhile before he felt okay about her again. “She’s okay now, Emily. I wouldn’t have left if she wasn’t.” 
Rossi’s words hit Emily hard. It seemed like he knew more too, but Emily didn’t question it right now either. He would know eventually, especially after her behavior surrounding this ordeal. “Okay,” Emily’s voice broke as she spoke. “Okay, I could use some coffee.” 
Rossi nodded his approval and Emily stood on shaky legs. Her whole being screamed at her not to leave, but she knew she would be no help to anyone if she passed out from exhaustion. Plus, it did feel good to finally stretch her body after being hunched over you in that uncomfortable chair overnight. 
“But if anything happens,” Emily turned to speak again, “you call me immediately.” 
“Of course,” Tara reassured and Emily willed her legs again to move as she exited your room. 
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Emily hated to admit they were all right. It felt good to stretch her legs and as she made her way back from the hospital cafeteria, the taste of warm coffee was comforting. She was already exhausted, practically running on empty before any of the team had returned to your hospital room. Hopefully, the coffee would give her a much needed boost. Or, at the very least, keep her awake long enough to see you open your eyes again. She really hoped it would happen soon. At this point, with each passing minute, it was getting more painful to see your unconscious body lying barely patched together in that hospital room. 
What Emily didn’t expect was that she didn’t have to wait much longer. As she rounded the corner to your hospital room, she heard louder, more animated talking than when the team first arrived to see you. She thought it was curious and her steps hastened as she made her way to the room. When she got to the doorway, she stopped in her tracks, her coffee slipping from her hands. 
The coffee hit the floor with a splatter, causing everyone to pause and look over to her, but she didn’t care at all. Right in front of her, she finally saw you, barely sitting up, but still in a different position than she had left you. More importantly, as she took in your form, her eyes moving from where your body had shifted all the way up to your face, she saw them. Curious, open eyes peering back at her. The eyes of the woman she loved so much, finally open and looking straight at her.
“Oh, thank god,” Emily whispered, taking long strides towards you. She practically pushed Reid out of the way to get to you, and then Alvez too, who was standing right at your side. “You’re awake,” Emily exhaled as she stopped right next to your bed. Her body was moving without her even thinking. Trembling fingers pressed themselves to either side of your face, much like they had when she found you trapped and bleeding in that car. This time, with gentle care, despite all her haste, she turned your face to hers and pressed her lips against yours for a long, but gentle kiss. 
“You’re awake,” she mumbled against your lips. “You’re awake, you’re awake.” Her lips pressed to yours again and you weakly kissed back. As much as you wanted to kiss her with as much emotion as she was giving you, you were still a bit dazed from everything. Still, relief flooded your body when her lips pressed to yours. The first thought when you woke, and were told of what happened, was how angry Emily might be. After all, she had insisted you stayed back to keep from getting hurt. And here you were, in a hospital room, recovering from a major surgery as a direct result of getting hurt on the job. 
Emily left another lingering kiss on your lips. “I love you,” she whispered between soft kisses. “I’m so sorry, I love you.”
A throat was cleared in the room and Emily snapped out of her stupor. She pulled back, guilty eyes looking over to Rossi, but hands never leaving you, just dropping to rest on your shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” Emily repeated, this time to the whole room. “It’s just-”
“I’m the one who should be sorry,” you interrupted Emily before she could spiral. Your voice was hoarse as you spoke, trying your best to clear it, you knew you had some apologies to make. “I should’ve listened and stayed behind. I am so sorry, Emily.”
At this point, you honestly weren’t going to hide anymore of your emotions from the group. The cat was already out of the bag, what with Emily striding in, kissing you, and declaring her love for you in front of everyone. Plus, you were stuck hooked up to an IV and other odd wires, so you couldn’t move. It was rude to kick everyone out of the hospital room so you two could talk, but this couldn’t wait. She had to know how sorry you were.
“I know I worried you,” you continued. 
Emily was shaking her head furiously. “No, it’s not your fault and you’re right. I’m too overprotective.”
“That’s an understatement,” you heard Alvez snort from the back of the room. 
Emily turned back to glare, the tension in the room leaving when a few others chimed in with a chuckle. Now that you were awake, it was like everyone was able to breathe out. You seemed fine, the doctor that Tara grabbed when she noticed your eyes flutter open, promised you were fine. Emily was probably going to need a lot of convincing before she could truly trust that you were fine. Especially since she was out getting coffee when the doctor came, but it seemed some of her tension was even finally leaving. 
The whole group talked for a little bit, with Emily seated by your side again. Her hand gently and carefully trailed over your arm as all of you spoke. When requesting water, both Emily and Rossi jumped at the chance to get it for you. It was honestly a little endearing to see them act like this, but you couldn’t stop the roll of your eyes when Rossi beat her to get up and fetch a nurse for your request. 
When water was brought to you, Emily helped you sit up, a strong hand on your back as you winced while trying to move. The flash of pain in your face didn’t go unnoticed by Emily and a large frown was written on her face as she brought the cup of water to your lips. Rossi stayed silent, his eyes glued to the two of you, switching back and forth from watching your face and Emily’s.
“I figured it out yesterday,” he finally broke his own silence. “So, you and Emily are together then?”
You nodded hesitantly, Emily’s hand withdrawing from you for a moment in hesitation. 
“I knew there was something. How long have you two…” Rossi trailed off, letting either of you put a label to what you two were, not wanting to be too presumptuous himself.
“Oh!” Reid chimed in. “We have bets on- oof!” He was cut off by a strong elbow to the rib from Alvez, effectively shutting himself up. 
“Maybe about a month since I started at the BAU,” you said sheepishly, looking back at Rossi like you were a child who just got busted for cutting class. In the back of the room, you heard some whispering between some of the team, a couple of disappointed voices in who was wrong and who was right. It didn’t matter what they were saying though, both you and Emily had your eyes glued to Rossi, waiting for any sort of reaction.
His brow furrowed for a minute, a small frown playing on his lips. It was embarrassing that the heart monitor was giving away the increase in your heart rate, but no one seemed to comment.
“I wish you would’ve told me sooner,” Rossi finally sighed. “But if anyone were to date you,” he looked up at the two of you, “I’m glad it’s you, Emily. You’ll take good care of her.”
Emily nodded, her hand squeezing your arm where it rested. She looked down at you and you met her eyes, seeing all of the love she had for you fill them the instant they met. It seemed that everyone had approved of the two of you. Emily honestly felt a little silly and even more guilty about trying to keep the relationship a secret, but she also had never felt more relief in her life.
You were okay. The team and, more importantly, your father figure, knew about the two of you. Rossi was right, she would take care of you. She would make sure she didn’t hold you back, and she knew she still had some making up to do from that last fight in your hotel room, but she would do better. She had the second chance and you didn’t seem upset about it all. Instead, you both were just relieved to have each other. When you were healed and ready to get back to work, you both would talk, but Emily promised herself she would find a way to trust your capability a little more. You, meanwhile, promised yourself you would find more patience and understanding for her worry over you. 
This whole situation was terrifying for everyone involved, but you and Emily had to admit that you grew from it. As you regained your strength, your body wasn’t the only thing healing and strengthening. Your relationship was healing from the fight too and your love for each other, now that it was out in the open, was stronger than ever.
Taglist: @geekyandgay98 @desperate-gay @finleyfray @natashamaximoff69 @high--power @demonicbaby666 @storiesofsvu
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itsabouttimex2 · 7 months
Text
Platonic Yanderes
(Endeavor, Hawks, Best Jeanist)
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Enji Todoroki:
His own child, whom he previously spurned.
He regrets it. God, he regrets it so much. The memories seethe inside him like an angry scar, pulsing in pain.
“I made dinner, Dad! I knew you’d be out late, so I stayed up to make sure you had something to eat!” He doesn’t sit down to to eat or say thank you. He grabs the plate from your hands and stomps off to his own room to eat, casting a baleful glare to you as he does. At least you’re good for something, he thinks.
He doesn’t think like that anymore. Do you know that, Y/N? You are worth so much more than he ever let you know.
“Hey, dad. You wanna go out jogging? Fuyumi grew out of her old tracksuit and gave it to me, and I wanted to see if-“
You cut yourself off when he glares at you, a withering look on his face. He stares down at you, a sneer turning the corners his lips. “You wouldn’t be able to keep up with me,” he snaps at you, walking away and slamming the door as he exits.
But you never actually thought you’d be able to keep up. You knew you’d fall behind. You just wanted to spend time with him, didn’t you? He’ll spend as much time with you as he can from now on, Y/N.
“Do you want to train with me? I’d be happy to put up some targets for you!” You smile, tiny bits of ice sparking on your hands. That smile doesn’t reach your eyes anymore, not when you’re talking to Dad. “There’s nothing you can put up that I wouldn’t melt right through. You don’t have the skill.” As expected, he turns on his heel and leaves.
He wonders how long it’s been since the two of you talked. You were there, reaching out a hand to him, trying to get through to his heart. You made offer after offer, and he struck them down without hesitation. Even without a scrap of love of affection, you kept trying to help him become a better person.
“Why didn’t I let you help me?”
He asks himself this question again and again, looking down on you. He always looked down on you, for being weak or sentimental or distracting.
Now he’s doing it in a more literal sense, staring at your feverish form on the bed.
Your severe sickness had been the perfect excuse to squirm back into your life. He comes in with nearly a dozen grocery sacks held in his arms, a steely and determined look in his eyes. Before you have a chance to slam the door in his face (not that you strength to do so right now) he walks into the house, heading straight to the kitchen.
“What are you-“
“Hush. Not a word, Y/N.” He’s dressed in his own expensive and tailor-made version of casual, not that it makes him any less intimidating. He places the bags on your table, and walks directly towards you, his hand moving to cover your forehead. He grimaces.
“You’re burning up, Y/N. Get to bed. Now.”
“You need to-“
He grabs your shoulders and spins you around, marching you to your room, checking the rooms one by one as he walks with you. Once he finds it, he pushes you towards it and pulls back the covers. “Get in.”
You’re frozen stiff, caught off guard by the sudden turn of events, your estranged father busting in with groceries and literally marching you in around your own home, room by room. That pause gives him the chance to push you onto the mattress, tucking the blanket around you. “Good,” he says, sounding satisfied. “I’ll make you something to eat. Don’t move.”
He pulls the top off of a can of microwaveable soup, dumping the contents into a plastic bowl. He had wanted to just buy you something gourmet and professionally made, but Fuyumi had talked him out of it, saying you’d be better off with something simple and easy to eat. That you would be better off with him.
So here he is, a giant man trying his best to not break a tiny spoon as he pushes it to your lips. Now that you’re actually lying down instead of trying to work in your weakened state, your body finally gives out, entirely sapped of the energy you’d need to get up or tell him off for coming in unannounced and uninvited. With nothing else to do and a body that won’t listen to your commands, you let him him feed you.
It’s a tiny step forward, the first of so many to come. And he won’t stop until you call him your father again.
——
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Keigo Takami:
A young and innocent member of the League of Villains.
“I really appreciate you stopping by, Mr.
Hawks.”
You slide him a drink, sweet and fizzy and non-alcoholic. You’ve never actually served him anything with alcohol, not even by accident. He refuses to drink it, keeping himself sober and fully focused at all times.
You appreciate it, because it means one less grown man to babysit, one less puddle of vomit to mop, one less fight to break up.
And he appreciates that you don’t ask questions or try to convince him otherwise, because it means that he can do his job much easier.
“Did you make me something new, kiddo?”
“Yeah, I did! Club soda and cherry syrup and whipped cream!”
“Looks delicious, kid.” He takes a sip, and damn, it’s actually pretty good. “And tastes even better than it looks,” he praises, buttering you up in a way that aren’t used to. The other members, the real members of the League aren’t so kind. You’ll get an errant compliment or two, but mostly you gets nods, grunts of approval, and impatient demands for refills.
But Mr. Hawks is relaxed and charming and actually talks to you outside of ordering drinks. It’s easy to trust him.
“Got any news for me, kid?”
Maybe a little too easy, with the way you spill out all the gossip you’ve overheard, bits of information that you would’ve never considered critical or even important. And all the while, he grins and sips his drink, listening very, very close.
You’re betraying your own teammates, and you don’t even know it, he thinks to himself. And why? Because you’re just a good kid, a lonely kid? A sweet and polite kid, in spite of being surrounded by literal killers and remorseless criminals.
More than anything, he feels bad for you.
Especially when he catches you drinking.
You sniffle, a red handprint outlined on your cheek, and bruising from a rough hand encircling your wrist. You tip the shot glass back, trying to take a another sip.
But something soft blocks your lips, soaking up the alcohol before it can enter your mouth. You set the shot glass down, opening your red-rimmed eyes. A feather, hanging midair, separating your lips and the glass.
“You’re still a bit young for that kind of coping, kid. Give it a few more years, and then you can start.”
His voice is soft, and he takes your wrist to turn it over, looking at the outlines left behind by rough, grasping fingers.
“Who was it?”
A flash of something fierce and angry, protective and nurturing. His eyes sharpen and then that sharpness fades, gone in an instant. He switches to laid-back and unaffected in a moment.
“C’mon. Just one word, and I’ll make sure they don’t mess with you again. Can’t have my favorite bartender making my drinks with a bruised hand, after all.”
You give him a name, fighting back tears. You aren’t supposed to cry. You aren’t supposed to break. You need to be strong and useful or you’ll get thrown out, nowhere to go and no one who wants you.
No one who wanted you until you met Hawks, that is. He’s sure you’ll know that soon, when these villains are brought to justice and he takes you into his personal custody, under the guise of rehab.
He hooks an arm around your shoulders and when you lean into his side, starved for warmth and comfort, he slips a feather into your pocket. A sign that he’s there, that you aren’t alone.
You won’t be alone again.
——
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Tsunagu Hakamada:
A shy, insecure UA student who performs well at the Sports Festival.
You aren’t the usual kind of student he’d take under his wing. You stumble and stutter and whimper and then you crumble and hide yourself away. You have no self-esteem, no confidence, no sense of personal worth.
But your fighting prowess is impossible to deny or ignore. You might not have any self-worth, but you’ve got enough skill to make up for it.
“Fifth place”, he starts, while combing through your hair, “Is very impressive, especially for the school in question. You went up against skilled and varied opponents, and beat out all but four. Be proud.”
He doesn’t see the need to use Fiber Master on you. One single command of “sit” had you on the stool, holding as still as you could while he fixed your unruly hair, swept and tangled by the wind. You are certainly a well-behaved student, listening closely to his words, blushing at his praise.
“I was scared,” you mumble, in a sudden show of honesty. “I thought I was gonna mess up in front of everyone. With all those cameras. And everyone watching.” He’s won you over quickly, his unshakably calm yet supportive and patient personality providing you with the comfort you need to open up to him.
“And you did not. That is admirable.”
You blush a little deeper. Clearly, you are receptive to praise and positive attention. Building you up as a properly confident student and hero-in-training becomes one of his priorities.
He finds himself enjoying your presence. Something as simple as children running up to you to ask you about the sports festival, asking you to show off your Quirk for them has you looking up to him for approval, for his consent. He gives you a nod, carefully regarding your actions. You do decently with people when someone is behind you with a supporting hand on your back, it seems.
Then it’s teenagers, some classmates, some friends, occasional newfound fans. Every now and then, an outright admirer. Usually, you hide behind him, eyes down, arms wrapped around yourself. He interferes personally on the last ones, politely but firmly rejecting them on your behalf, nudging you along to continue your patrolling. You mumble a thanks, staying close beside him.
For adults, it’s two drunkards who laugh and sneer and shout obscene things about what they’d do to a shy schoolgirl like you if they got the chance. One whips out his phone to take a picture of you, only to drop it in his drink when the cuff of his sleeve tightens around his wrist like a snare. Tsunagu ushers you to a bench, draping his jean jacket around your shoulders gently. “You need not worry. I will be right back.”
He’s a dreadfully powerful man, in terms of both influence and Quirk. In seconds, both men are bound tightly by their own clothes, and in a matter of minutes, police officers are stepping in to take them into custody for sexual harassment.
He clicks his tongue in distaste, watching them get carted off. “Some people simply have no moral fiber.”
The way you look at him right then reminds him of why he became a hero. Not only to save lives, but to instill peace and hope into the hearts of those around him.
And he starts to like being around you. You look to him, not only for safety but for guidance and even for comfort. He offers it to you, watching closely as you fall deeper into the web that he weaves, one where you are safe and secure and utterly oblivious to your own entrapment.
And the longer you stick around, stumbling after him like a newborn fawn, the tighter and thicker those bonds grow. You can’t ever leave him.
But why would you ever want to leave him?
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fortuna-et-cataclysmos · 10 months
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In defense of s5 finale
I hear and see a lot of people expressing dislike of the season finale, some also in the tags and comments of my analysis/speculation posts. So I wanted to further expand on this.
Gabriel's victory -being remembered a hero despite everything wrong he did, especially abuse to Adrien- has left a sour taste in many people's mouth; many blaming the scenarists and not shying away from calling it "bad writing."
But I think that that was exactly what the scenarists wanted to do? The perfect world Gabriel leaves behind is unsettling, unfair, and I think that the creators have done their best to show that implicitly but clearly. I think that we are supposed to be irked by the finale.
Why do I think that? Because there were a lot of small things that gave the message that, as @emsylcatac iconically put it, "this is the bad place." I touched upon some of those in my previous post on how this was a victory for Gabriel and Lila, and a defeat for Ladybug. I'll try to list them more clearly here.
Gabriel a hero
This is the one thing everyone has the most problem with. At the end, Gabriel was declared the hero who gave his life to defeat the Monarch, who was none other than himself. Some artistic choices here are so over the top that I believe they were specifically made to irk us.
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If the silver statue itself wasn't enough, the exact quote of Caline Bustier is:
All the rings that have been highjacked by the Monarch have been recycled into a statue in honour of the great Gabriel Agreste.
Then Tsurugi Tomoe goes on to say:
Beyond the visionary entrepreneur and genius creator that he was, we are celebrating a hero today.
See, everything bad about Gabriel has been flipped. If you count literally exploiting people visionary entrepreneurship, sure, he was that. And genius? He couldn't get the miraculouses of two teenagers for an entire year despite having all the resources, and he ended up succeeding only with the help of another extremely powerful person (Tsurugi Tomoe) and even then he ended up dying himself.
As of creator, he was literally a destructor. He destroyed Paris more times than anyone can count, and everything was fixed every time only thanks to Ladybug. Let's not also forget how he destroyed the Miraculouses to exploit their power.
Adrien's comment about his father
This is another thing many people have had problem with. It is so outrageous that I won't believe the creators would expect us to take at face value.
At the end, Adrien acknowledges that his father died to take down the Monarch, and says:
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I don't know if one day I'll manage to become like him.
Lo and behold, the man who had emotionally neglected and abused his son to no end has turned into the said son's hero and role model. Adrien not only looks up to him, but also wants to make an active effort to become like him. Hell, he even doubts if he can be as good as him.
No way this line can taken at face value. There are many children's shows with abusive parental figures nowadays (like She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, the Owl House) that have all handled the conclusion to that abuse generally well. The watchers' expectations are high in this respect; the scenarists would know that such conclusion, if not ironic, would not satiate the expectations of the spectators.
Lack of accountability: Gabriel and Tomoe
As many many people have pointed out, the general lack of accountability in this season finale is infuriating. So Gabriel mentally tortured THE ENTIRE WORLD POPULATION and not only never faced consequences in life, but also is remembered as a hero in death?
What about Tomoe?
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Not only she has not faced any repercussion for being basically a supervillain, but also she is still a respected public figure who can go and make a speech backed by the mayor, in front of the freaking French flag. If that doesn't irk you, I don't know what will.
Worse is that, she goes as far as saying in her speech that:
I'll make sure to continue his legacy.
So she'll continue to be evil. Great hint that she'll continue being an antagonist in season 6.
As you can see, the new world that has been created is extremely unfair and problematic. No way this can be "the good place," an actual "happy ending."
Everything is fixed! No problems anymore!
Also, you'd realise that the world is perfect, a little too perfect. It is like a green utopian dream.
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Caline Bustier has been the mayor "only for a few weeks" (direct quote from the episode), and she has already fixed all the problems possible in Paris. Not only that, she has also solved inequality and class struggle (again, mentioned by herself). Let's make Caline the President of the World already.
Funny that LITERALLY ALL THE PROBLEMS of a city could be solved, while the exact same episode showed Majestia, the freaking Supergirl of the ML universe, acknowledged in her nightmare that:
Even with all my superpowers, I'll never manage to solve all the problems of the world.
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Well, Bustier says that she has no superpower, that people working together can accomplish that. Kudos to her and her democratic spirit. But like, perfect city in a few weeks? Even Mayor Bourgeois who wanted to send all the trash of Paris to space would realise that that's impossible.
There is no perfect solution, yet the world is perfect
Ladybug acknowledges that there is no perfect solution to Gabriel's situation. Trying to bring back his wife, he has caused irreparable damage to himself and to Nathalie, effectively leaving Adrien an orphan. He still hopes that Ladybug can fix it all. But she can't because of the nature of the wish: for one thing gained, another thing should be lost. In Ladybug's words:
There is no perfect wish. Every time a power is used for personal gain, it causes catastrophes. (...) We'll find a solution, but it will never be as perfect as one would wish.
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Interesting, given that the world ends up being completely perfect?
All the problems are solved, literally everyone is happy, Marinette and Adrien are finally together. But the wish was made for personal gain, no? So where are the consequences? Where is equivalent exchange? The catastrophe, the price of the perfect, green, just world? I think we'll see that in season 6.
The dream world
The new world is seriously giving me weird vibes. Like it is a movie set. For those who have watched The Good Place, you'd know how in the town everything feels a bit too bright, artificial, perfect. I get the same vibes from the post-wish world.
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The Agreste mansion is covered by green vines?? Way to hide the atrocities that were planned and happened here.
Here is a screengrab I found on the internet from The Good Place (the ladybug is a funny coincidence lol)
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I am getting the exact same vibes!
Also, I have expanded on that in my post on "running out of time" theme, but basically in the ML universe usually the "real" stuff are associated with the night and the rain while things that happen in the sun turn out to be fake or erased/forgotten. So the feeling that I get from this finale is that, this new "perfect" world is not genuine; that the seeming happiness it brings will be soon destroyed (I doubt erased), just as it happened in other fake reality episodes like Chat Blanc, Ephemeral, Oblivio, or Jubilation. As I argued before, this is not a permanent victory. Hell, it isn't even a real victory, not with the secret Marinette is left to keep from Adrien.
Not a real victory
Another thing that makes me think that this ending is not genuine is the lack of Chat Noir in the finale. Yes, I am a fervent Ladynoir stan who was hoping for some Ladynoir action (if not reveal) and was hugely disappointed by the lack of Chat's engagement in the final fight, but now that I think of it, this may have been on purpose.
Notice how in Conformation, Ladybug says:
Our only way to win against him is to fight him together.
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And yet, soon thereafter, she is catapulted into a fight with the Monarch.
Notice also it wasn't her choice to unify the miraculouses and face the Monarch alone. She had to, because Chat Noir wasn't there.
Let's remember that this show spent the entire season 4 explaining how Ladybug assuming all the responsibility alone leads to disaster, how she needs Chat Noir to share the burden with him.
Let's also remember how in season 5, especially at the beginning of it, we see Ladybug change her behaviour towards Chat Noir: she gives him more responsibilities (the Bunny Miraculous, the identity of certain holders if I am not mistaken), and how at one point she confesses that Chat Noir has been very serious and responsible lately (and then promptly develops a crush on him).
So taking on the Monarch herself is really against everything they have built up in season 4 and the beginning of season 5. That's why I think that this "victory" is so wrong: it was "won" only by Ladybug. Maybe if Chat Noir were there, he would have prevented the Monarch from making the wish (hypothetically, then we would have an entirely different timeline). If his identity were revealed the way Marinette's was, Gabriel could have controlled him through his amok. In any case, their defeat or victory would have looked very different from this.
In the end, we must remember that this world is far from being a victory for Ladybug: she has, after all, LOST. She couldn't stop Gabriel from making the wish. And while this world looks perfect, and we got what seems like a forever happy after ending for Adrinette, their happiness is set in a non-genuine victory and world.
So I think we shouldn't be angry with the show-runners: there is a reason why this ending feels and is wrong. If it were all wonderful, it wouldn't be the season finale. It would be the finale, period. And I believe that everything that has been disturbing us in this season finale will be addressed, if not consist of the core conflict of season 6. Let's all take a deep breath and turn to fan fiction or fan art till we get the new season now :) (at least that's what I'll do lol)
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beskarandblasters · 2 months
Text
Repent Your Sins
Stepdad!Din Djarin x Mandalorian/F!Reader
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Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist
Author’s note: Consider this a little celebration for the 1 year anniversary of the Mandalorian season 3 premiere! Thank you @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for beta reading! 🥹🤍
Summary: Ever since the Mandalorians reclaimed Mandalore, you’ve been apathetic about moving there. To top it all off, your mom got remarried. Your new stepdad, Din, suggests visiting the Living Waters to feel more connected to the creed. When you’re finally alone, pent up feelings come to the surface, leaving you to ask yourself— Are you really about to fuck your stepdad?
Word count: 2.9k
Warnings: canon divergent, post season 3 finale, reader is able-bodied, stepcest, fingering, semi public sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (cyar’ika, mesh’la), light angst, Din’s a little creepy in this lmao, no use of y/n
Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs
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Life on Mandalore has been nothing short of hectic. It’s not that you don’t like having the clans living amongst each other. But the fact of the matter is you don’t feel like Mandalore is your home. You didn’t grow up on Mandalore and based on the legends you didn’t understand why the others were so determined to come back. And now that you’re living here, you still don’t get it.
They’ve done their best to make the place feel more like a home. Houses made of stone have been built but they’re more utilitarian than cozy. They’re still trying to figure out what land can be used for farming and it’s a miracle no one’s starving yet. 
And then there’s your mother. Your mother decided to get remarried once you got settled here and she chose to marry none other than Din Djarin. You expected your mom to get married again sooner or later. She’s been lonely since your father passed away during battle many cycles ago. But you didn’t expect her to marry Din. You’ve heard the rumors about him but you didn’t meet him until right before everyone went to reclaim Mandalore. You didn’t have time to address your attraction to him back then but that’s when it started. Between the saunter in his step, how broad he is, and his brilliant silver armor you’re head over heels. Not to mention how good he is with his then-foundling and now son, Grogu. 
He’s been the only person concerned about your transition to life on Mandalore. As if your attraction to Din needed to grow any deeper. Your mother has been busy with Bo-Katan and the Armorer, developing infrastructure and surveying land for farming. Which left you alone with Din and Grogu. He’s been great with checking in with you here and there. 
On the rare occasions when he went with the others to attend to matters, you were left to watch over Grogu. And it made you seethe with jealousy. Not that you didn’t like watching Grogu. You just felt like you should be out there with your man. Because deep down, you developed not only a crush but a slightly possessive one at that. 
You think he feels it, too. There have been times when his visor lingers on you. And although you can’t see his face like he can see yours, you can only imagine what his expression is like underneath his helmet. Or it’s a pat on your shoulder or his hand on the small of your back as he’s trying to scooch behind you. It’s literally anything. It doesn’t matter what because your mind has convinced you that he wants you like you want him. Sometimes you think you’re crazy, that you’re foolish for believing that your stepdad could possibly be into you. 
But maybe you’re not so crazy after all. 
It’s another typical day for you. You’re sitting outside, looking up at the muddled atmosphere. You sense Din beside you out of your peripheral, towering above you. 
“Doing alright?” he asks, crouching down to sit beside you. He sets Grogu down, letting him waddle around on the rocks, lifting a few of the small ones with the Force. 
“Not really. But it doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me. What can I help you with?”
“Probably nothing. I’m just never going to get used to this place being home.”
“Can I suggest something?” 
“What is it?” you ask, turning to look at him. 
“What about doing some things to feel more connected to the creed?”
“Like what?”
“Have you visited the Living Waters?”
“No.”
“I would start there.”
“I thought you only had to go there if you messed up. You know… like you did,” you joke. 
“Very funny,” he deadpans. 
“But I’ll go if you think it’ll help.”
He scoops Grogu into his arms and stands, offering his free hand to help you up. You grab your helmet and take his hand, standing so close to him it makes your stomach flutter. You look down before replacing your helmet on your head and see his hand flex after he lets it go. And it leaves you wondering what that could mean. 
You bid him goodbye, feeling his visor burn a hole into you walk away. The journey to the Living Waters is uneventful. Most if not all of the threats were cleared out by the others a while ago. 
Once you get there you take off your helmet and jetpack, sitting on the stone floor by the water's edge and enjoying the solitude. It’s actually peaceful down here and you hate feeling that way. You’ve gotten so used to being apathetic about every aspect of this place that feels weird to enjoy something here for once. Since moving here you’ve gotten used to being alone, since your mother and the other clan members have been so busy. Aside from the moments with Din and Grogu, of course. But here it feels like you’re alone on your own terms like you chose for it to be this way instead of the others just abandoning you. 
“How are you doing?” a voice says behind you. 
You startle with a jolt, turning your torso to get a glance at who’s there. It’s Din, of course. Who else would it be? No one else cares this much to come all this way to see how you’re doing. You’re surprised you didn’t hear him but you must’ve been too far in your own head, reflecting. 
“I don’t mind it down here,” you say, turning to face the water again. 
He detaches his jetpack and sits beside you like he did on the surface, but this time he spins around to face your side, back nice and straight up nice and straight with his hands resting on his knees. You scooch around to meet him in the middle, both of you facing each other. Grogu’s noticeably absent this time. 
“Where’s Grogu?”
“Playing with the other younglings.”
“My mother?” 
“Still with Bo-Katan and the others. Something about planting a few test crops to see how they take.”
“Ahh.”
“Just admit you like it down here,” he says. You can just by his voice that he’s wearing a smug grin on his face. 
“Fine,” you roll your eyes, “But don’t tell anyone. Or else they’ll start asking me to help out.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m just glad something finally got you to feel better. Even if it’s just a little bit.”
“Yeah…” you trail off. You turn your head back towards the water and ask, “But why do you care so much?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why do you care if I’m happy or not?”
“I know what it’s like to move to a strange place, to feel like you don’t fit in.”
You stifle a snort, prompting him to ask, “What?”
“When have you ever felt like you didn’t fit in?” you say, turning your head back towards him. 
“Lots of times. Especially when I’m the only Mandalorian in a room.”
“Oh yeah? So what did you do to make yourself feel better?”
“It’s empowering not to fit in.”
“How so?”
“It means there’s something about you that sets you apart from the others.”
“I don’t think I have that.”
“You do. You just don’t see it.”
“And what’s that?” 
“Your spunk.”
“My spunk?”
“Yeah. You’re not afraid to let your mother have it. That’s for sure.”
That gets you to laugh, a real laugh. Maker, you haven’t laughed or felt this much joy since before you moved here. 
“Thanks for saying all that,” you say, inching closer to him. 
“I mean it,” he says, leaning forward. 
Without thinking you inch closer even more and now the gap between you two is almost nonexistent. You gaze directly into his visor, imagining what he looks like underneath his helmet. As if he read your mind, he gravitates his hands towards the bottom edge of his helmet, lifting it off of his head. You throw your hand over your eyes out of respect. Is he crazy? He just redeemed himself for doing this not that long ago. 
“You can look. We’re a part of the same clan after all.” 
His voice. His unmodulated voice. 
“Really?” you ask. 
“Yes really,” he chuckles. 
You put your hand back in your lap slowly, taking in his appearance. He’s better than you ever could’ve imagined. His brown curls are slightly matted from his helmet, albeit in a cute way. His facial hair is slightly graying along his jawline. And his eyes, so warm and brown they make you melt. 
You’re so close to him that his warm breath tickles your face. He’s so intoxicating it makes your mind short-circuit. Without thinking you lean forward, closing the small and almost nonexistent gap between you two, pressing your lips against his. He freezes, his body going tense and stiff before melting into the kiss. His hand finds your chin, his rugged and calloused fingers gingerly touching your skin. The kiss grows more and more passionate; more heated. His tongue brushes against your lips, begging for access. But it’s almost like that brings you back down to reality. This isn’t just any man you’re kissing. This is your stepdad. 
You pull back and look at the water again, hoping that he doesn’t notice how flustered you are. 
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Don’t be sorry. You were just acting on your feelings.”
“My feelings?” you say, looking at him again and raising an eyebrow. 
“Yes, your feelings. It was only a matter of time before you acted on them.”
Your heart drops to your stomach. 
“H-How long have you known?”
“A while. Since before your mother and I got married.”
You place your head in your hands, mortified and groaning in embarrassment. You feel him inch closer again, bringing his head by your ear like he’s whispering a secret. 
“Don’t be embarrassed. I feel the same way,” he whispers, tickling the shell of your ear. 
“You do?!” you ask in disbelief, poking your head up. 
“Mhm,” he says, kissing you again with the same grip on your chin.
“But aren’t we breaking the creed?” you ask, pulling away again but hovering over his lips. 
“Look where we are, cyar’ika. We can just bathe in the Living Waters after.”
“I guess you’re right…”
“Relax, mesh’la. Let me take care of you.”
He gently pushes you so you’re lying on the stone floor. He pulls off one of his gloves and hovers over you, ghosting his fingers over the fly on your flight suit. You’re embarrassed by how wet you are already. But it’s natural given how much you’ve fantasized about this moment. You just didn’t expect it to take place here beside the Living Waters. 
He opens the fly of your flight suit and palms the wetness in your underwear. His mouth curves into a devious smirk before he bites his bottom lip. You look down between your legs and see the bugle in his fight suit, his cock hard and straining against the fabric. 
“You’re so wet, cyar’ika. I’ve barely touched you.”
You whimper in response and he chuckles darkly, watching as you writhe under his touch. He loves every minute of it. 
“Have you touched yourself and thought of me?”
Your mouth opens to respond but no words come out, surprised at his bold question. 
“You can tell me, cyar’ika.”
“Y-Yes,” you admit. 
“What did you think about?”
“Uh, something not too far off from this.”
“Tell me,” he repeats. 
“You sneaking into my room at night, touching me while I sleep.”
“Dirty girl,” he says, resting on the back of his heels. He opens your flight suit more, taking your underwear in his hands and ripping apart the fabric. You gasp but he doesn’t stop, tearing your underwear in half before pulling them off of you and tossing them to the side. 
“Din!” you say, turning your head and glancing at the strewn fabric. 
“Need you. Now,” he grunts, taking his pointer and middle fingers in his mouth, slicking them with his saliva. You spread your thighs apart farther, aching for his touch already. He slides his pointer finger inside you, curling it painstakingly slowly against your g-spot. 
“Mm, Din please, I need more,” you whine. 
“Are you begging?” he asks, hovering his face mere inches above yours. 
“Kriff… Yes, I am.”
“Say it.”
“I need more… more fingers,” you whimper.
“Good girl,” he praises, pushing his middle finger inside you. 
Soon the cavern is filled with your moans, echoes bouncing off the rocky walls. He brings his head over your cunt, spitting a wad of saliva over your clit before rubbing his thumb over it. Your back arches up off the floor and he steadies you with his other hand on your hip. 
“Wanna feel you cum all over my fingers, cyar’ika. Can you do that for me?” 
“Harder,” you beg. 
He obliges, picking up the pace of his fingers inside you and his thumb on your clit. With one last push against your g-spot, you cum, walls clenching and releasing his fingers. 
“Good girl,” he praises, astonished at the amount of wetness you produced. 
You ride out your high with a jumbled string of moans, whimpers, and curse words, letting your orgasm subside. He pulls his hand from you, holding his fingers above your mouth. They glisten under the dim lights of the mine.
“Open,” he commands. 
You do as you’re told, opening your mouth for him. He places his fingers inside your mouth and you taste yourself on your tongue. He guides your mouth close with a hand on your jaw, commanding again, “Suck my fingers.”
Once he’s decided you’ve done enough, he pulls his fingers from your mouth and grabs your chin, kissing you deeply while his other hand pulls out his cock. He rests on his heels and takes off his other glove, gathering your spend and slathering it on his cock. You prop yourself up on your elbows to get a look and somehow it’s more than you could’ve ever imagined it to be— long, thick, and uncut. 
“Are you ready, cyar’ika?” he asks, hovering over you again and coaxing you to lie back down. 
You nod and he thrusts into you slowly, burying himself down to the hilt. 
“You feel so good like this pussy was made for me,” he says, nestling his head into the crook of your neck and sinking his teeth in your skin. Your response is barely coherent, another mix of moans and curse words. 
“Use your words, cyar’ika.” 
“Harder, p-please. I can take it.” 
He pokes his head up and meets your gaze again, lips curled into that damn devious smirk. 
“I knew you could,” he says before kissing you. He draws his hips and slams into you. It’s a symphony of pants, whimpers, the sound of skin slapping against skin, and the wet, squelching sound your pussy makes. You tangle your hands in his hair, tugging on it lightly. He moans into the kiss and thrusts into you harder, until you cum around his cock. He pulls his head back and studies your face as you cum. Tears roll down your cheeks as your orgasm ripples through you, core muscles spasming erratically. 
“Good girl,” he says, repeating it over and over again while the pace of his thrusts never falters. 
He cums inside you, balls deep and hitting the deepest angles inside you. You’re filled with the warm feeling of his release, looking at his face as he cums. His eyes are closed and his mouth is open in a soft O. The curls on his forehead are matted with sweat and sticking to his forehead. You can’t help but absentmindedly bring a hand to his cheek and stroke his facial hair. He’s beautiful. 
He pulls out of you and sits between your legs. The post-orgasm clarity is settling in and you’re left with the reality of what just happened. You zip up your flight suit and sit up, looking at him with a wild expression in your eyes. 
“What now?”
“Into the waters we go.”
He puts his cock away and stands up, offering you his hand. You stand and walk down the steps with him, slowly submerging yourself in the water, never letting go of his hand. 
“Repeat after me: I swear on my name. And the names of the Ancestors, that I shall walk the way of the Mand’alor… and the words of the Creed shall be forever forged in my heart.”
You say the phrase back to him, looking in his eyes the entire time. Although you’ve just repented for your transgressions, you can’t help but feel like it doesn’t matter. The feelings you have for him only run deeper after what just happened. 
He leads you out of the water where you replace your helmets and reattach your jetpacks. He turns to you one last time before leaving and says, “No one can know.”
“No one can know,” you repeat before he takes off and you’re left with the stillness of it all, wondering if that will be the first and last time you have sex with your stepdad. 
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