#but at least we might get a new life series soon
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lemonebar · 1 month ago
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hermit baths podcast!
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jelliedink · 1 year ago
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DILF!Boss Headcannons
Warnings: manipulative behaviour, huge age gap. If you squint, you'll see this is slightly suggestive, but nothing explicit happens here. Author's note: hi my loves! If you guys don't know @sweet-as-an-angel do yourself a favor and check them out. Their Yandere!DILF series has built a 3-store mansion in my head and is living there rent free, so I just HAD to create another manipulative hot older man to call mine. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Take care!
Dividers by @cafekitsune.
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Brain melting thinking about an older boss that realizes you find him attractive the moment you start working for him. He's sure he's got at least 20 years on you, but he can't help but feel flattered.
A boss that finds it delightful to toy with you a little bit: getting his face way too close to yours when he's reviewing your work, a hand gently rubbing your shoulders when giving you feedback. He tells himself that it's just "harmless fun", you're so cute trying to hide how flustered you are!
A boss that watches with curiosity how you grow on him more each day seeing how hard you work and how eager you are to learn everything he teaches you.
A boss who acts as a mentor professionally and insists you can confide in him with your life problems too. He's already lived everything you're going through now, and he just wants to see you thrive.
A boss that starts to invite you to a lot of work related events once summer break starts. His ex-wife is travelling with the kids and the house just feels so lonely without them.
A boss that, upon the discovery that you're single, is sure that the gods gifted you for him to turn into his perfect little doll.
A boss that likes to give you little gifts "for your hard work" every now and then, and they get increasingly more expensive.
A boss who's so subtle when blurring the lines between professional and personal relationships that the word "date" doesn't even cross your mind when he starts to invite you to non work related events.
"Have you seen this artist is coming to town with their new exposition?" "The weather is nice today, how about we visit the japanese garden to freshen up after spending the whole week inside the office?"
A boss who never corrects anyone who refers to you as a couple during your outings, and instead laughs it off, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and giving you a playful wink every time this happens. He even turns it into a internal joke, and soon you get used to hear him calling you his darling, his dear, his precious.
A boss that makes sure to have you yearning for him before making his move. Sometimes he kisses your hands when you're out together, always saying how lucky he is to have such a beautiful company, his lips gently running along your fingers. Other times he caresses your face when you go to him for advice. His hugs are tight, so his scent will linger on your clothes. He might even kiss the top of your head every now and then.
A boss who loves to see you getting used to having him always present in your life, getting flustered when he touches you in ways that are intimate just enough to keep you guessing.
A boss that thinks you're so beautiful and so hard working that he'll take how much time he needs to mould you into a perfect wife and a perfect mother for his children. He'll guarantee that your life will be so enmeshed with his that you'll never be able to leave him, even if you want to. This time he'll create a family so perfect that nothing will tear it apart.
A boss who knows he doesn't need to rush things because he's sure you'll be his in the end. You're so young, so malleable, and he's been playing this game for so much longer than you. He knows just what he needs to do to wrap you around his fingers.
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pedrospatch · 7 months ago
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a safe haven l ten
Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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series masterlist
summary: After a long night, Joel and Ellie take you home.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF AN INJURY SUSTAINED FROM AN ACT OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, PREGNANCY, CONVERSATIONS SURROUNDING PREGNANCY LOSS . PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. Ellie and reader are very close to each other, Joel deals with feelings of guilt, Joel and Maria make nice, Joel gives reader a bath and washes her hair, food consumption (i am just gonna apologize to my lactose intolerant folks right now, trust me i must pretend with you), both reader and Joel have some big feelings, reader mentions her deceased father, angst, soft and domestic Joel, fluff.
word count: 5k
a/n: i have not updated this series since october. :l i feel a a mixed bag of emotions updating after all this time, but most of all, i am grateful to know there are a couple of people out there who are still invested in this story. to anyone who has been waiting: truly, it means the world that you have shown me patience, support, and kindness. believe me, i am going to be seeing this story to the end, and it is all thanks to those who continue to show this lil story of mine a whole lotta love. special shoutout to the loveliest human @mrsmando who made me this beautiful mooodboard every single time i got stuck during this chapter, i looked at it and it gave me the boost of inspiration i needed. thank you mimi <33 this chapter is fairly tame, the next chapter is already in the works, and there are a couple of time jumps coming. overall, we are down to the last handful of chapters. let’s finish this story and give these two the ending they deserve, shall we?
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“What the hell is taking Tommy so fucking long?” Ellie whines. She’s sprawled out on the couch with her head in your lap, and her arm draped over her eyes. Her feet are hanging, dangling over the edge of the couch at an odd angle after you’d warned her not to get muck from her sneakers on the linen fabric. Despite Joel insisting over and over that she head on back to the house, she had stubbornly refused, not wanting to leave your side. “It’s been over two hours! He’s taking fucking forever, man. What’s the fucking hold up?”
Joel bites back a sigh, masking his own impatience. Or at least, he tries. He’s grown just as restless as the kid, if not more. Much like Ellie, he’s desperate. He’s itching to take you home already, almost too anxious to watch you take that first step over his threshold, and into your new life with him and with Ellie. He aches, aches, to get you settled into the place where you would be spending the remainder of your days with one another, where you would be safe, and loved in the way you deserved to be loved—the place where he would cherish and adore you until his final breath.
“Don’t know,” he answers, his voice sounding rougher, more gruff than usual. Reaching up, he scrubs his hand down the side of his face, adding tiredly, “He might be a while longer, kiddo. It could be another hour, could be more. Like I already told you, s’probably best if you just go on and head back to the house without us, alright?”
“No. I’m not walking out that fucking door unless she’s with me.” She pauses and pulls her arm away from her face for a moment, just long enough to throw a teeny glare his way. “Unless you’re both with me. The three of us go home together, or it’s no fucking deal. Got it?”
He shakes his head in utter exasperation.
“Ellie, we’ll be right here down the fuckin’ road—”
Her hand shoots out and she flips him off.
Just when he’s about to chastise her, he stops himself, clamping his mouth shut. It’s pointless.
Kid’s too goddamn hard headed for her own good, and Joel knows he’s just wasting his breath with her.
“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” you reassure them both, weaving your fingers through her hair to scratch at her scalp in an effort to soothe her. “Right, Joel?”
He meets your exhausted, worn down gaze from where he’s standing across the room, and his heart lurches in his chest. As the guilt begins creeping in, he’s forced to look away. He can’t imagine the living hell you had been through over the last twenty four hours alone. And the worst part about it was the realization that last night, while he was fast asleep in bed just a couple of houses up the road, that fucking bastard had his belt wrapped around your throat.
Joel feels sick to his fucking stomach all over again.
Horrifying, vividly real images of you helplessly trapped underneath Luke scratching and clawing at the leather around your neck with trembling fingers, struggling to breathe oxygen into your burning lungs as he tugged it tighter and tighter through the buckle flash in his mind, a gruesome nightmare turned into reality.
Exactly how far had Luke taken it?
Until you had grown too weak to keep fighting?
Until you almost lost complete consciousness?
Until he noticed the life threatening to leave your eyes?
Is that when he had finally stopped pulling on the belt?
Joel shudders, a bitter taste climbing up his throat as it sinks in. He could have lost you—and his unborn child.
This shouldn’t have happened.
He shouldn’t have let you walk away that night.
This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let you walk away from him that night.
“Joel,” you say his name, quiet and weary.
His head snaps back in your direction and he glances at you, almost missing the subtle shake of your head. It is a silent warning telling him not to go there, though you know by the tight clench of his jaw it’s too late for that.
Joel makes the futile attempt to hide it, but he sees it written all over your face—you know what he’s thinking because you know him like the back of your own hand, and you just know he’s placing all of the blame for what happened to you on his own shoulders.
But can you honestly fault him for that?
How can you expect him not to feel like he is somehow responsible for this? Just how the hell is he supposed to make himself believe he hadn’t failed you?
Joel promised—he had fucking promised you—that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. He had sworn to keep you safe, made a vow to protect you from Luke, but here you are, your soft, delicate flesh marred with the painful evidence of yet another one of his failures.
And it was all because he had let you walk away on that fucking night.
He should have done something.
Even if it meant running the risk of you never speaking to him again—even if you never forgave him, spent the rest of your life angry and hating him for going against your wishes. He should have something.
“Joel—”
“Be right back,” he mutters, lightly shaking his head.
Shoving away from the doorframe he’s leaning against, Joel pivots on the heel of his boot and starts down the hallway. He walks into the kitchen where he finds Maria standing at the counter, tapping her fingers against the smooth, laminated oakwood as she waits for the coffee she’d offered him a few minutes ago to finish brewing. She’d offered to whip up a quick supper, but food was the last thing on everyone’s mind.
“Tommy’s been gone for a couple hours now. Girls are startin’ to get real tired of just sittin’ around waitin’ for him to come back,” he tells her, exhaling the sigh he’d held back in the living room. “What do you think could be keepin’ him so long?”
With her back still to him, Maria reminds him, “Well, he did mention he was going to round up the council and get them together for an emergency meeting.” She lets out a sigh that matches his own—it’s been a long night for her, too. When the last drop of dark roast drips into the glass pot, she carefully takes the pot by the plastic handle and pours the steaming coffee into a speckled, white and blue ceramic mug. “Do you take it with milk and sugar?”
“No thanks, that’s alright,” he declines as politely as he can.
“I also have cinnamon if you’d like?”
“Plain black’s just fine.” He gives her a nod of gratitude when she hands it to him. “Thank you. And I don’t just mean the coffee, but for, uh—for bandagin’ up my hand for me, too.” He clocks the brief look of surprise on her face and almost laughs. He doesn’t blame her for being taken aback, because truth be told, so is he. Since he’d met Maria, he had known she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. There was something of a mutual understanding between them, a silent agreement they had made to keep each other at arm’s length, to only interact when it was absolutely necessary.
Never did he think he would be standing in her kitchen, thanking her for patching up his hand, and for making him a cup of coffee out of the kindness of her heart.
His brother wouldn’t believe it.
“Don’t mention it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans back against the counter. “How’s it feel, by the way?”
“S’fine,” he replies, shrugging. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”
There’s a momentary silence. A taste of tension lingers over their heads, and he knows at one point or another, he’s going to have to address the affair, the very reason everything had unfolded in such a terrible manner.
Guess now’s as good a time as fuckin’ any, he thinks to himself with an inward sigh.
Joel lightly clears his throat. “Listen, since we’ve got a minute alone, just the two of us, I was wonderin’ if, uh—if we could talk ‘bout somethin’? If that’s alright?”
“Of course.” Maria gives him the floor.
“I know that she—” Pausing, he shuffles from the heel of one boot to the other, his ears burning hot. He had known it wouldn’t be an easy conversation to have, but he underestimated just how uncomfortable it would be, regardless of what she already knew. “I know she told you and Tommy all ‘bout us, and ‘bout our relationship. See, the thing is, the first time I saw her—”
Again, Joel stops, the burning sensation now radiating, spreading from his ears to his face and down his neck, flushing his skin a deep, deep shade of pink. Unable to meet his sister in law’s gaze, he glances down into his mug, as if he will somehow find the right words to say somewhere in the depths of his coffee.
“It was never my intention, y’know,” he finally says after a minute. “Goin’ after a married woman. I swear, I never meant to fall for her. I just fuckin’ did. I think I might’ve fallen for her long before I even met her,” he confesses. He feels himself darken to a shade of maroon under her curious stare. “And somehow, for reasons I ain’t all too sure I’ll ever understand, she fell for me too.”
Maria raises an eyebrow at him. “Look, I’m not judging you, Joel,” she assures him, shaking her head. “If that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not judging her, either.”
He looks up at her, blurting out, “You’re not?”
She moves her hands to cradle her swollen middle. “Do I wish you two had handled everything differently?” she answers her own query with a nod of her head. “Oh, I’m sure we all do. But I’ve known her for a long time now. I know the kind of woman she is. And I’m starting to see the kind of man you are.”
“And what kinda man is that, Maria?”
He waits without the slightest clue as to what she could possibly say.
“Since you came back to Jackson, I’ve chosen to keep my distance from you—but make no mistake, I’ve been watching you like a hawk since day one. Waiting for any signs of trouble. Waiting for you to fuck up. Waiting for you to give me a good reason to throw your ass out of this community because I didn’t trust you. Not after all the things I was told about you.”
He snorts. “You goin’ somewhere with this?”
“You are not who I thought you were,” Maria admits, smiling wryly. “I’ve gotten to see a different side of you. You pull your weight around here by doing your job and doing it well. You stay out of trouble—for the most part. And more importantly, I have seen the way that you’ve stepped up to be a father figure to Ellie. It takes a good man to do that, Joel.”
“Think that’s the nicest fuckin’ thing you’ve ever said to me,” he muses, setting his mug down on the counter. “I stepped up because I love her. I love them both. Those two, they’re the best parts of me. They’re the reasons I keep goin’ and now I’ve got another reason on the way.”
Maria smiles, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.
Catching her hesitance, Joel asks, “What? What is it?”
“What comes next is not going to be easy,” she warns him, lowering her voice. Even with the living room a fair distance from the kitchen, she doesn’t want to run the risk of you overhearing her. “For as hard as we’re going to try to contain the fire, it will spread, and everyone in this town will find out about everything—including the affair. People are going to talk, and believe me, they’re going to have a whole lot to say about it, Joel.”
He can’t help but roll his eyes at her.
“Think I can handle some fuckin’ gossip, Maria.”
“I know you can. But I’m not sure if she can,” Maria tells him, quietly. “It worries me. She’s been through a lot in just one night alone. I don’t want her stressing anymore than she already has. She is in a very delicate stage of her pregnancy right now, Joel. If she’s not careful, she could have a miscarriage. She had one about two years ago when her father became sick—” Observing his lack of a reaction, she realizes, “You knew that already.”
“Yeah,” he sighs. He knows where she’s going with this. “I did. She told me ‘bout it.”
“It makes her chances of having another one higher—”
Joel doesn’t even allow himself to think of it happening to you again. “I get it,” he interjects, trying not to sound too curt. “I’ll make sure she takes it real easy, alright?”
Lifting a hand off her belly, she reaches out and takes a hold of his forearm, gripping it tightly.
“Promise me something, Joel. Promise me that you’ll look after her,” Maria pleads him, gently. “Please. After everything she’s been through—I need you to promise me that she’s going to be in good hands with you.”
He nods. Without thinking, he places his hand over hers in an unexpected token of affection and reassurance. “You have my word, Maria. I’ll take good care of her.”
She gives his arm a grateful squeeze, then glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting pretty late. We don’t know how much longer Tommy’s going to be with the council. Why don’t we just go ahead and call it a night?” she suggests. “We can all get together first thing in the morning at your place to talk about it.”
“Yeah, good idea,” he agrees. “She really needs to rest.”
Maria gives his arm another squeeze. 
“Go on then, Joel. Take your girls home.”
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“Finally!” Ellie exclaims with a dramatic flail of her arms as she shoves through the front door.
“Alright, kiddo. Get your behind upstairs and into the shower,” Joel instructs her, flipping on the lights in the foyer. “Y’smell like fuckin’ horse shit.”
She lifts the collar of her shirt to her nose, takes a whiff, and makes a face. “Yeah, I won’t argue with you there,” she mutters. She toes off her dirty sneakers and leaves them beside the door before dashing up the staircase, taking two steps at a time.
He shouts after her, “And don’t use up all the hot—”
“Yeah, yeah, I fucking know the rules, dude!”
Moments later, you both hear the shower going.
“Little shit,” he grumbles.
You exhale an amused huff through your nose.
Joel withdraws his arm from around your shoulders and reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “C’mon, darlin’.” He guides you up the stairs and down the hallway into his bedroom where he switches on the light before proceeding to lead you over to his dresser. “I’ve got a bunch of shirts in this top drawer here,” he says. Dropping your hand, he pulls it open for you and gestures to it with a jut of his chin as he takes a step backwards, moving out of the way. “Go ahead and pick one to sleep in tonight. Want you to be comfortable, so help yourself to whichever one you want, sweet girl.”
Nodding, you begin to rummage through the drawer, unaware of the moment he slips away. You reach for a t-shirt, but then a plaid green flannel catches your eye. You pluck it from the drawer, running your fingers over the soft, warm fabric. “Is it alright if I wear—?” You turn around, stopping mid sentence when you realize he’s no longer standing behind you. Puzzled, you follow the sound of running water into the bathroom where you find him kneeling beside the tub. “Joel? What are you doing?”
“Runnin’ you a bath.”
You notice the bloodied bandage beside him on the tile floor. “Joel, are you serious?” you scold him. “Maria just patched your hand up for you.”
“S’okay, peach. I can rewrap it when we’re done.” Joel sticks his injured hand under the faucet to check the temperature, the cold water soothing his cuts. Once it turns warm, then hot, he pulls out his hand, waiting for the tub to fill halfway before shutting the faucet off and rising to his feet. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms, then beckons for you with both of his hands. “Let’s get you washed up.”
You remain standing by the door. “Joel, you don’t have to do this for me.”
“I know.”
“I’m capable of washing myself—”
“Yeah, I know that too,” he says, chuckling. “S’only fair, darlin’. Don’t you think?”
That’s when it hits you—how this moment is mirroring that night you had cleaned Joel up after you and Ellie had brought him home from the clinic with an injured shoulder. He allowed you to take care of him, and now, he was looking to do the same for you. And all you had to do was let him.
“But your hand—”
“Will be just fine,” Joel persists, stubbornly. “It’s nothin’ but a few cuts and scrapes. C’mon—or else I’m gonna march right over there and get you myself, peach.”
Knowing Joel, you certainly wouldn’t put it past him to throw you over his should and carry you to the bathtub.
“Fine,” you relent with a small sigh of defeat.
Setting his shirt down on the sink, you slowly walk over towards him and whirl around, letting him help you out of your knitted cardigan. You finish undressing yourself, inhaling a deep breath as you muster up the courage to turn back around and face him—when you finally do, it feels like a punch to the gut to see the heartbreak in his dark brown eyes, the subtle tremble of his bottom lip. You don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror to know it looks about a hundred times worse when you’re not wearing clothes.
Keeping your arms down at your sides, you fight every urge to cover yourself up. You’ve never felt so fucking vulnerable.
Clearing his throat, Joel holds out his hand. “C’mere.”
You accept it, and he helps you into the tub.
“How’s the water? S’not too hot, is it?”
You shake your head and he leans forward, kissing your temple so sweetly, your eyes flutter closed.
He washes your hair first, then takes a clean washcloth, lathering it up with a bar of milk and honey soap—the same soap he would smell on your skin all those nights. Admittedly, Joel preferred castile soap, but switched it when he found himself missing you during those weeks you were apart from him, when he needed the comfort of your scent. He is gentle with you, so gentle, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands.
As he lightly drags the washcloth up your back and around your neck, you stiffen, prompting him to freeze too. “Fuck. Baby, did I hurt you?” he asks, and you hear the slight panic in his tone.
“No,” you say quickly, desperately trying to swallow the lump rising in your throat. “No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s just—” Every overwhelming emotion slams into you all at once, and you can’t seem to figure out which one to feel first. Humiliation? Fear? Relief?
The water sloshes around you as you pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around your knees, giving yourself permission to feel them all. Bowing your head, you begin to sob quietly, hoping that Ellie, who is just down the hallway, won’t hear you crying again.
Joel says nothing. Washcloth still clutched in his hand, he leans forward over the edge of the tub and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, or at least, as close as the barrier between the two of you will allow him.
“Joel,” you choke, trying to push him off. “Stop it. Your clothes, they’re getting all wet.”
“Hush. Don’t fuckin’ care ‘bout my clothes,” he croaks, and for a second, you swear he’s about to cry too. But he doesn’t. He holds himself strong. Tugging you closer against his chest, he buries his nose into your soaking wet hair, whispering his reassurance. “You’re okay, baby. You’re safe, my sweet girl. I’ve got you, alright?”
He pulls back slightly, dipping his hand into the water, placing it on your lower belly.
You look down, your eyes glazing over his bruised and battered knuckles. Proof that Joel Miller really would do anything for you.
“I know you do,” you say, softly. “I know you’ve got me, Joel.”
A while later, you’re dried, dressed, and composed. You follow Joel out of the bathroom and back into his room, where he has you take a seat on the bed. Noticing you had missed a button on his flannel shirt, he does it for you. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and says, “Give me a minute while I change.”
He peels off his wet clothes, being careful so as not to further agitate his sore, injured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you’re sitting in bed underneath the covers.
“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy—and it smells like you. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”
Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home. Alright?”
Home.
You’re home.
He touches the tip of his nose to yours, and then draws himself back up to full height. “There’s somethin’ that I’ve gotta take care of downstairs, peach. I won’t be too long,” he promises.
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It’s almost midnight. Joel goes about the kitchen and he prepares you the quickest meal that he can think of. He plates the sandwich he’d thrown together and pours a glass of cow’s milk—he’s always sure to keep a pint of it in the refrigerator to make the kid her oatmeal in the mornings.
He heads back upstairs, only to find that while he had been gone, Ellie had joined you, making herself a little too comfortable on his side of the bed. He stands there at the door, watching the two of you.
“Hey, so is it true babies can hear stuff while they’re in there?” Ellie questions you, curiously.
“Mhm,” you reply with a nod. “They can hear music, for example. Voices—”
“Voices?” She smushes her face into your stomach and he hears a muffled, “Hey, dude!”
You giggle. “Ellie, I think it’s still a little too early.”
“When do you think it’ll be able to hear me?”
“I’m not too sure. In a few months, maybe?”
Ellie lifts her head, humming. “You know, I bet there’s baby books in the library,” she tells you as she sits up. “I’ll have Dina help me look for one tommor—oh shit.” She stares at you with wide eyes. “Dina! How are you going to tell her and Talia about Luke?”
Joel grimaces. He hadn’t thought of that, either.
“I—I’m not too sure.”
“You have to fucking tell them. Dina has to know about him. She has to know what a piece of shit he is, and so does Talia.”
Sensing your discomfort, Joel steps into the bedroom and intervenes before she can say another word. “Ellie, get to bed. S’late.”
“But—”
“Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns her, sternly.
She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” She climbs off the bed and on her way out, she eyes the plate in his hand. “That chicken?”
“Turkey. And it ain’t for you, it’s for her. So scram, kid.”
“Couldn’t have made me one while you were at it, old man?”
“Ellie, if you don’t get outta here right now—”
“Alright!” Ellie holds her hands up. “I’m leaving. Jesus.”
She disappears, closing the door behind her.
“Pain in my ass,” Joel mumbles, shaking his head as he walks over and carefully perches himself beside you. He hands you the plate. “Here, darlin’.”
“Joel, I appreciate this, but I’m really not very hungry.”
“Maybe not, but y’gotta eat,” he insists. “Baby needs it.”
Thankfully, you accept it without further protest.
“I’ll have Ellie get your things tomorrow,” Joel states as you’re eating. “Maria can go along with her since she knows the house. They’ll get your clothes and whatever else you might need outta there.”
“My father’s belongings.” You accidentally talk through a mouthful of turkey and bread. Swallowing, you tell him, “I have some boxes of his stuff in the basement. But they’re way too heavy for either of them to carry.”
“I’ll take care of that for you.” He reaches up, wiping a breadcrumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “I can ask Tommy to give me a hand. Don’t you worry, peach. We won’t leave your dad’s things behind, I swear it.”
Relieved, you shoot him a grateful look, then polish off the last few bites of your sandwich.
“Here,” he says, offering you the glass of milk. “Figured it’s good for you, and good for the baby. Y’know, since it’s got calcium and…stuff.” He shrugs sheepishly, no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Vitamins, right?”
Nodding, you grab the glass and take a reluctant sip.
“You hate milk,” Joel realizes, raising an eyebrow.
“I do,” you admit with a laugh. “But you’re right. It’s good for both me and the baby, so cheers.” And with that, you somehow force the entire glass down.
He sets the dishes aside on the nightstand, figuring he can take them downstairs first thing in the morning.
Without bothering to rebandage his hand like he’d told you he would, Joel turns off the lights and climbs into bed with you. “All those nights wishin’ I could bring you home,” he muses as you curl into his side. “Wantin’ nothin’ more than to hold you in my arms in this bed. In our bed.” His arm slips around your shoulders, a laugh rumbling through his chest. “Almost doesn’t feel real, darlin’.”
Tilting your head, you nuzzle your nose into the scruff of his beard, prompting him to laugh again. Then, he remembers his conversation with Maria, and his smile fades from his face, his lips pursing together.
You catch the sudden shift in his demeanor.
“Joel? What’s the matter?”
“M’fine, baby. It’s just—” He hesitates. “From this point forward, I need you to let me handle things.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want you gettin’ all stressed out, alright? I don’t want to run the risk of you—” He’s unsure of how to say it.
“Of me losing the baby,” you finish for him, quietly.
Joel winces, knowing he was wandering into sensitive territory. “Yeah. I—I really don’t want that to happen.” He pauses. “Maria mentioned to me you’re in a delicate stage. When do you reckon you’ll stop—how long until you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it?”
“After twelve weeks, my risk isn’t as high. If I make it to the second trimester in six weeks, then my chances of having another miscarriage are lower.”
Though you speak calmly, he clocks your anxiousness.
You’re worried, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking worried out of his mind too.
Being a father at his age wasn’t ideal, but he wanted this child. It was part of him, and more importantly, it was a part of you.
Joel squeezes your shoulders. “I only ask ‘cause I was thinkin’ that, y’know, once we get to that point, maybe I can go ahead and start buildin’ the baby’s crib.”
“You’re going to build the crib?”
He nods. “And the highchair too. I can even make you a diaper changin’ table if y’want one.”
“Joel.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Our worlds were just turned completely upside down. You just found out that I’m pregnant, and you’re already thinking about building furniture? Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?”
“Hey, those things take a whole ‘lotta time,” he says in defense of himself. “Besides, winter’s right around the corner and I don’t wanna be out in the garage freezin’ my fuckin’ ass off. If I can get a head start now, I can have them all done in the spring by the time the baby comes.”
You fall silent.
“What’s on your mind?”
“I’m really scared of losing it,” you confess. “When I first took that pregnancy test, I wanted nothing more for it to be negative. Now, I’m terrified I won’t make it past my first trimester again. I really don’t want to lose it. I want this baby, Joel.”
He turns his head, meeting your eyes in the silver light shining through the lace curtains over his window. “S’why you’ve gotta let me handle things, darlin’. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“C’mere, my sweet girl.” Joel presses his lips to yours, murmuring against them, “I love you.”
His declaration comes with natural ease.
And so does yours.
“I love you too, Joel.”
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pickingupmymercedes · 9 months ago
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She's here and she's ours - Lewis Hamilton
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Pure fluff.
Series: She's here and she's ours / She's here and she's not only ours / She's here and she's just like you / She's not here, but she'll be / She's here and she won't be the only one / She's here and he won't let her give up / She's here and so is he / She's here and so are we - (they can all be read as one-shots)
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
wordcount: +1k
a/n: I'm 100% sure Lewis is gonna be a girl dad, like there's no other option in my mind. Also, I might make this a series of firsts with his kids, maybe 🙃
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
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First-borns took longer to come, you’d been told that much, but 26 hours of active labor seemed like a bad joke.
The due date had been almost a week prior, which meant she had to be induced, but at the end of it all a perfectly healthy, and tad bit big, 20.7 inches and 7.3 pounds baby girl had made her arrival in the early hours of a cold, but sunny, Wednesday. 
The three days stay at the hospital also meant all of your and his family had had more than enough time to get to Monaco still in time to chat, have lunch and joke around with you, contractions only ever getting really strong the night before your water finally broke. At a time your perfectly thought-out labor plan had already been torn to pieces.
She was meant to be born in the water, that’s how you and Lewis had dreamt of for months, but being as stubborn as both of you were she didn’t turn and a breach meant being ready for an emergency c-section, if needed. It also meant an epidural would be more than likely required, something you fought your hardest against but eventually agreed to after a couple hours with labor going quicker with the water broken. At the end you still managed to have her naturally, with a second degree tear nonetheless.
But the tiredness, your back killing you, the heartburn, the swollen feet and the pain, none of it took center stage in your mind as you watched your daughter, as weird as that word sounded, falling asleep in her father’s chest.
As soon as she had had her first feed in your breast the nurse asked if skin on skin with the father was something you both would like to happen. His eyes, who had been gleaming with pride since the second the doctor announce she was girl, watered as the nurse handed the infant to a shirtless Lewis, seated at your side in the sofa by the window.
She squirmed a bit as her small body tried to find comfort against his muscular chest, one of his hands almost big enough to hold her entire body while the other supported her neck and head. And as if in a movie, as soon as he spoke, her body relaxed and she contently sighted with the sound she had spent the last months hearing from inside you, a voice almost as constant as yours to her.
“She’s here, babe, and she’s all ours.” You couldn’t really tell if he was telling you or himself that, his eyes wouldn’t leave the infant in his arms and his movements were careful and kept to a minimal
“How you feeling dad?” Your voice breaking the spell he seemed to be under, his eyes shining with love for his family, the one he finally had.
“Amazed, hopeful, scared… in love” He almost whispered after thinking for a bit.
It was Lewis first year with Ferrari, all the excitement and buzz from the move were gone and real life had set in. Redbull were still dominating the grid, Ferrari a bit closer than the previous year, with both driver even managing to snatch a vitory each, but still the focus was now on the new regs for the 2026 car.
The mandatory summer shutdown was the perfect opportunity to destress for at least a week before the chaos started back again and Lewis made sure the ever-shorter time he had for a vacation would be perfectly spent with family and friends alike, somewhere in the sunny Mediterranean ocean.
It was on a hot and clear night that summer that your lives began to really change.
His step mom was talking about how hard it’d become to gain a few pounds of lean mass after menopause had hit, a curiously shy Willow asking her mom what menopause was and getting the period talk on the side while you mentally panicked that your period had been due for at least about 2 weeks, something you completely put to the back of your mind with the craziness of summer shutdown preparations.
You were on birth control, but still it could happen, you both knew that and had agreed on no condoms. Later that night, while Lewis got a late workout in and everyone else went to bed, you franticly looked for the package at the bottom of your suitcase, hoping the damn thing was still there.
Almost twenty minutes later Lewis found you on the bed staring at the night sea, lost in thoughts, shaking and so in over your head it took him at least 10 minutes to comprehend your rumbles about the test, still untouched at the adjoining suite sink, the line that read “pregnant 5-6 weeks” screaming back at you both.
To say the pregnancy took sometime getting used to was a light hearted way to say you went through hell mentally and physically. But still, the moment that tiny creature first kicked you after hearing her father’s voice melted any sign of a doubt left.
You were not only gifting Lewis his most treasured wish, you were gifting yourself a perfect symbol of the respect, companionship and love you two shared. A tiny human you and him got to raise and protect until she went out into the world and left her mark.
As everyone else came into the room to finally meet the newest Hamilton, Lewis’ moment with his newborn was interrupted by his mom getting to hold her newest grandkid, followed closely by his sisters, brother, niece and nephew crowding the sofa he sat just a few moments before.
“Thank you, babe, truly. I don’t even know how to tell you how grateful I am.” His lips kissing your hair from the top of your bed, eyes attentively watching as your girl got passed around.  
“We’ll have at least 18 more years with her, you’ll have time.” You looked up at him to get his toothy smile just as your family walked into the room to complete the party.
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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk
If you'd like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.
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kamaluhkhan · 9 months ago
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IDLE WORSHIP
SLOTH — part i of we'll write sins not tragedies
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pairing: luke castellan x nemesis! reader (afab) word count: 515 summary: you and luke fooling around on the roof of the hermes cabin after curfew ;) warnings: smut!! oral (reader receiving); body worship; luke and reader smoke weed....18+ ! author's note: i wanted to do a series of blurbs *loosely* based off the 7 deadly sins and here we are....also, i (finally!) made a masterlist so....enjoy!!
♪ "idle worship" by paramore
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you bite the back of one hand to keep from waking up the entire camp, the other still holding a half-smoked joint loosely between your fingers. 
luke was always skilled, but tonight his tongue feels particularly heavenly.
it hadn’t been either of your intentions for the evening. the plan was for a peaceful night of getting high and stargazing on the roof of the hermes cabin after curfew. 
not entirely innocent, but more so than what it had become as soon as luke decides to shuffle underneath the blanket you share, lips traveling down your body as he mumbles sweet nothings into your skin.
luke kisses down your sternum, unbuttoning the flannel you had taken from him. “you’re so beautiful,” he praises. luke sucks bruises underneath your breasts. “prettier than any goddess.” his tongue traces over your scars. he bites just above your belly button, fingers fumbling with your shorts. “absolutely divine,” is the last thing he says before devouring your cunt.
in your defense…. it has been a stressful week. you and luke had barely had a moment alone, and chris warned that the weed would be strong. 
it’s slightly careless, yes, especially for senior counsellors — but fuck, if you don’t feel utterly blissed out.
you almost break skin when luke tugs your clit with his teeth, bringing you over the edge. luke pokes his head out from underneath the blanket that still covers your bottom half; you take a moment to admire him.
the moonlight softening his scar, illuminating his cheekbones and jawline. backlit by a million shining stars that mean nothing compared to his smile, luke looks like an angel. 
and then, you get a better look at him — his black curls slightly askew; his dark eyes rimmed red; his lips wet with your release, curling into a smirk at how you unraveled for him so easily. 
a fallen angel, maybe. a fucking gorgeous one at that. 
“can i have another hit?”
you take a drag of the forgotten joint, holding the smoke in your mouth until luke is hovering above you. when he presses his lips onto yours, you let him suck up all the smoke, along with whatever air is leftover in your lungs. he removes himself from you, allowing you a moment to breathe while he exhales. 
luke rests one hand on your hip, and reaches the other down to run two fingers across your folds and shoves them into his mouth, sucking like his life depends on it.  
“tastes just like nectar.”
“better be careful then, angel,” you drawl and tangle your free hand into his curls. you can tell luke likes the new nickname from the way he tightens his grip, firm enough to bruise. “if you have too much, it might just kill you.” 
he grins down at you lazily, blinking slowly.
“at least i’d die happy,” luke sighs. 
a giggle bursts out of your chest in response. 
you bring the tail end of the joint to his lips; this time, he exhales directly into your mouth, allowing you to share the last dregs of smoke.
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milkloafy · 3 months ago
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TALES OF TEYVAT — PROLOGUE
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after years and years of working at your soul-crushing nine to five, you reach your breaking point. while taking a walk to calm yourself down, you see a mysterious ad about a new job opening for a farmer— land and cottage included with no fee. wishing for change, you take a chance and follow the flyer's instructions, despite having no prior farming knowledge... it leads you the small town of teyvat where you meet a handful of charming and interesting individuals. can you learn to find the beauty in life once more? and maybe fall in love along the way...
taglist: @giamee @indarius @lybrin09
wc: ~1.0k
a/n: HOWDYYY i’m so excited to share the intro/prologue of this series with u all !! :3 this is already making me hyped for ayato’s route ahdkkakd but i think that’ll be the last one :> diluc route should be posted next week !!! i hope y’all enjoy and get immersed in the small town of teyvat hehe
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“Do you really believe this will work?”
The Teyvat Commissioner sighed, but a hopeful look remained on his face. “I can’t be certain, Thoma. But the town of Teyvat was once self-sufficient an abundant with life.” Ayato paused, glancing down at the stack of papers on his desk. “If we are able to revitalize the farmland, we should grow less reliant on Celestia for our basic daily needs.”
Thoma’s expression soured at the mere mention of Celestia. “I have faith that our Commissioner made the right decision.”
Ayato smiled fondly at his retainer, delighted that even his most peculiar of plans would certainly have at least one supporter. “It seems we will find out soon. Come, let us attempt to tidy up the new farmer’s lodgings before they arrive.”
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The first thing you noticed the moment you stepped food onto Teyvat was how quaint the town was.
Compared to the city you were from that was filled to the brim with skyscrapers and dreary highways, Teyvat was quite small. As you surveyed the land, you felt as if you would be able to traverse its perimeters by foot in less than day if you truly wanted.
It would certainly be different from what you were used to… 
You smiled widely as realization sunk in that this place would, in fact, be completely different from what you knew. And that sounded perfect. It was exactly what you wanted, after all.
As soon as you took your first breath of fresh air, you spotted a man with beautiful blue hair and all-white attire approaching to greet you upon arrival. 
“Welcome to Teyvat!” he said warmly. “I’m Ayato, the Commissioner of this town and the one who put up the advertisement. You must be the new…farmer?” 
Ayato faltered as he noticed your attire. You were in a corduroy overall dress with shiny, black Mary Janes and white socks with a lace trim around them. You didn’t have much experience in farming—you worked an office job all your life. What experience could you possibly have gathered? But based on the photos you saw online, you were certain you at least captured the look and style correctly.
The bows and frills were just a fun addition.
“Nice to meet you, Ayato,” you greeted easily, a bright smile on your face. “I’m Y/N, the new farmer.”
A hint of doubt flashed across his face but he covered it up with a disarming smile—one that melted away any concerns you might have had. “Teyvat is honored to have you. I am most pleased that you are here. Do you have much farming experience?”
“I own two houseplants! I’ve kept them alive for almost three months now.” 
He blinked, a smile still plastered across his mouth as you noticed the color draining from his cheeks. Ayato managed to choke out, “That is quite a remarkable feat.”
You laughed at his forced optimism, deciding to finally take him out of his misery. “I’m only kidding, Ayato. I’m aware owning houseplants does not equate to practicable farming experience.” 
Relief washed over him as he shared your amusement. “Oh, thank the gods! So, you do have experience taking care of farmland?”
“No.”
If grief was a person, you figured it would look exactly like Ayato did in this moment.
“But,” you continued cheekily, “I did enjoy growing some potatoes and herbs out on the balcony of my apartment. It’s not much, but I am determined to apply that minimal knowledge to this land of much grander scale. Plus, I have the Internet at my fingertips. I can search any questions I may have online!” 
You giggled to yourself when he nodded in agreement. It seemed he wholeheartedly believed your spiel. 
“Thought, if I may offer one small suggestion?” you said sheepishly.
Ayato raised his brow, but allowed you to continue.
“Perhaps you should request a resume or curriculum vitae of sorts before hiring someone.”
The dignified man in front of you broke out into laughter and, somehow, you found him to be even more attractive that way. 
“I suppose life is full of lessons,” he sighed, but there was teasing lift to his lips. “Truly, I believe you will do just fine as our new farmer. At the very least, I’m certain you will get along with the other residents here, if nothing else.” 
If they were anything like the Commissioner, you were certain he would be right.
“Now, follow me to your new home.”
“Gladly!”
“After, I shall take you around the town to help introduce you to everyone. I understand adjusting to a new life may take some time, but I am here to help in any way that I can.”
The look in his eyes were so intense and earnest, you found yourself fighting not to break his gaze and stare down at your feet. 
Clearing your throat, you fought away your bashfulness and said, “Lead the way, venerable Commissioner.”
Ayato shook his head at your teasing, the corner of his eyes crinkled with amusement. “The townsfolk will most certainly love you. I hope you enjoy your new life here in Teyvat, Y/N.”
You exchanged warm smiles with the Ayato, realizing that in just these few moments with him, you were already enjoying yourself more than you could have ever expected. 
“To new beginnings!” you cheered.
“New beginnings, and falling in love with life,” he added knowingly.
As you followed Ayato over to your new house—your new farm—you allowed yourself to close your eyes for just one moment. You heard the steady rush of the nearby waters and felt the wind toss your hair around. Breathing in deeply, you reveled in the scent of the woodsy, fresh air.
Teyvat was a new world, the polar opposite of the big city you once knew, and you were excited for the opportunity to experience life here at its fullest. 
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littlejuicebox · 9 months ago
Note
GINAAA MY GIRL!
Sending you a dadstarion prompt because you already know I LOVEEE your dadstarion content.
How did Tav find out she was pregnant with baby Gale? And how did Astarion react to the news?! Inquiring minds want to know.
To have and to hold.
Such a lovely prompt, my friend! Hope you like it!
Summary: Astarion turned mortal a few months ago, and this is his first-time experiencing illness of any kind. Unfortunately, as soon as he recovers, you start to show signs of sickness as well. Your condition is a bit different from his, though. (For more of this series check out the ‘Dadstarion’ section of my master list.)
Tags/Warnings: Dadstarion, domestic af, fluff, talk of illness, talk of vomiting, the mildest of angst with the mostest of comfort, pregnancy, etc.
A/N: I work in healthcare, not law, so I can’t guarantee the legalese is accurate lol.
Word count: 2.3K
-----
“Don’t come closer, darling, I’m disgusting.” Astarion groans from where you find him one morning, curled up on the bathroom floor.
It had been a few months since Gale of Waterdeep cast Wish, and from that moment until now the retired rogue had been a happy, healthy mortal. There were so many benefits to curing his vampirism that the elf never fully considered one of the major downsides… illness.
He’d never experienced a malady like this in his life. At least not in the one he could remember.
It’s horrible.
How had his little love or any of his friends endured this, more than once, in the past ten years?
Astarion is quite certain he contracted food poisoning from that questionable slab of salmon he ate at the Blushing Mermaid yesterday evening. He never did understand why you liked eating at that lowbrow tavern in the first place.
You crouch to examine your husband, pressing a soothing hand onto his forehead before running it down to cup his cheek.
“Astarion, my love, you have a fever.” You murmur, frowning with concern as you push sweaty curls from his face.
“Please make more obvious observations, dear,” Astarion gripes as he forces himself to sit up, still clutching his stomach. Gods, the vile churning in his gut is incessant.
He’s about to continue on with his quip, but the sudden urge to be sick forces the elf to shut up and scramble to the toilet. You hear the sounds of violent retching moments later.
“We are never going back to the Blushing Mermaid,” Astarion grumbles once the wave of illness subsides. His face is pressed against the toilet; all sense of decorum is gone. The rotten fish poisoning his insides won over any bits of pride he might have been clinging to.
You move to grab a wash rag, dampening it under the tap before kneeling back down by your husband.
“Poor thing,” You coo, folding the cloth in half before dabbing it against the back of Astarion’s neck, hoping to ease the fever.
The elf’s eyes flutter closed as he allows you to fawn over him for a moment. And then he groans and flicks his hand, palm faced downward, as if trying to shoo you away. His voice is hoarse when he says, “Just leave me here and go get ready for your meeting, darling. I’ll be fine.”
“In sickness and in health, remember?” You ask, running the cool cloth over Astarion’s face, causing him to sigh thankfully at the slight relief, “I’ll send word to the other Counsellors to inform them that I won’t be attending. You’ve never been ill before; I don’t want to leave you like this. Wyll can fill me in later.”
“Yes, ‘in sickness and in health’ and all that, darling, but those vows also included ‘until death do us part’ and I was an immortal vampire when we made them. So you were technically entering that verbal contract under false pretenses, which one could argue means it’s null and void. Go to the meeting, it’s—“
Astarion almost manages to finish his rambling legalese before more putrid liquid spews out of his mouth. When he’s finished vomiting, he whines again, any bit of stubborn resilience and feeble attempts at selflessness abandoned.
“On second thought, maybe you should stay here,” He says, his chest heaving with exertion as he clenches his eyes shut, “Please tell me you have a spell for this.”
“Unfortunately not, my love. I only have a spell for curses. Best I can do is half a bottle of Elixir of Health, some ginger-peppermint tea, and a bath.” You sigh, already crossing the bathroom on your way to the tub. You fiddle with the taps for a moment to start the bath and then begin to pour oils into the flowing water.
“Deal,” Your husband mutters, peeling off his sweat-soaked night shirt, “But none of that vile honey you got at the market here in town for my tea; I want the one Shadowheart and Lae’zel sent from Neverwinter.”
“Anything you say, Lord Ancunin.” You joke, rolling your eyes at your husband’s fussiness. He’d barely regained his sense of taste a few months ago and already favored upscale ingredients and meals, as if mortal food hadn’t been but ash in his mouth for two hundred years.
The elf glares at your insolence but doesn’t retort; he’s too busy trying to keep himself from vomiting again.
*
The following morning, Astarion wakes feeling much better. Practically brand new, in fact. It seems the potion and your strange flower child medicine must have done the trick. He sighs a breath of relief and then rolls to snuggle against you for a few more precious moments. He reaches his arms out and grasps at nothing but air.
The silver-haired elf immediately frowns and sits up. That’s exceptionally odd. You were not a morning person; you never had been in the ten years he’d known you. You always slept in longer than him, even in the wilds. On more than one occasion he’d had to lure you out of your nearly comatose slumber with the tempting smells of coffee and breakfast.
Astarion hears you gagging in the bathroom and goes to investigate. He soon finds you clinging to the toilet, practically mirroring how he looked the day prior.
“Oh no, little love, do you think you have food poisoning, too?” He questions, frowning slightly before kneeling down to press his hand against your forehead just like you’d done to him, “No fever, though.”
You whine, leaning into your husband’s hand before grumbling, “Damn the Blushing Mermaid straight to Stygia! Why do I even like that place, again?”
Astarion laughs, “I’ve been wondering the same thing for years, dear. I hope now you’ll finally reconsider. Do you want some tea and a bath?”
“Please,” You say, just before another wave of nausea hits you, forcing you to throw your head into the toilet and gag. Frustratingly, not much actually comes out despite the waves of sickness coursing through your body.
Gods, you wish you could simply vomit and feel relief.
Astarion begins to prepare the appropriate remedies, much like you’d done for him the day before. Thankfully, you seem to recover much faster than he did, and by midday you look and feel completely normal.
Good thing, too. You two were out of any elixirs that may have helped you had your ailment been as severe as Astarion's.
“Perhaps I’m just a better healer than you, darling.” The silver-haired elf teases as the two of you take afternoon tea in the sunroom.
“Perhaps I’m just stronger and more resilient than you, my love.” You retort, wrinkling your nose in jest at your husband.
He chuckles softly and then presses a kiss to your nose, “Agree to disagree.”
*
Astarion thinks the two of you are past this bit of bad luck, but when he wakes the following morning, he hears you retching once again.
When the elf finds you in the bathroom, appearing as almost an exact repeat of yesterday, though perhaps a bit worse, his brow furrows.
“Darling, I'm worried now. You look more ill than before. Perhaps we should take a trip to Jaheira? I can head to the apothecary for another Elixir of Health while she looks you over.” He murmurs gently, extending his hands to pull you to your feet.
You simply nod in agreement, too nauseated to do more than follow your husband’s lead as he slips you into a set of robes and ushers you into the carriage.
*
When Astarion returns to Jaheira’s after dashing out to the apothecary, he finds you sitting at the druid’s dining table. The two of you stop whatever hushed conversation you’d been having and turn to look at him in unison.
“Feeling any better, Tav?” He asks, coming to stand by your side before placing a worried hand upon your shoulder. You simply cover your hand with his and nod in response.
“Much better,” You say, flashing your husband a small smile. Something about your expression looks hazed, as if you’re stuck in a daydream. Poor thing, you're probably exhausted and experiencing brain fog.
“I’m sure you’ll be just fine with the teas and medicinals I’ve given you,” Jaheira assures, her eyes flickering between the two of you. She grins for the briefest moment before falling back into her typical, more serious demeanor.
Astarion swears he feels like something is off, but when he turns to give you a questioning look, you’re the picture of happiness as you sip from your tea cup, finishing it off.
Well, at least you’re doing what Jaheira has prescribed.
“What about the Elixir of Health I’ve just purchased?” Your husband asks, lifting the bag in his hand, “Will that help?”
“Oh, I recommend you keep it for something else. I don’t think Tav needs it for this,” The druid responds before standing, signaling it’s the end of the visit. She was always quite straight forward and lacking in certain genteel social graces, in Astarion’s opinion.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with the Harpers.”
You quickly bid your goodbyes and Astarion helps you back into the carriage, eager to get you back to bed so that you can sleep off the rest of this sickness.
*
Astarion notices you’re uncharacteristically quiet on the carriage ride home. He typically doesn’t mind when you’re in one of your pensive, stoic moods. But this illness of yours had him more anxious than usual and he had to know more about Jaheira’s examination results, if only to ease his own worries.
“Darling,” He starts, taking your hand in his. But you don’t seem to hear him; you’re still lost in your own little world.
“My love,” He says, this time a bit more urgently, squeezing your hand just enough to pull your attention to him, “What did Jaheira say, exactly? Did she mention how long this illness will last?”
“Oh, the nausea will probably go on for a few weeks,” You reply, a goofy, lopsided smile breaking across your face. You cannot stifle your grin at the little secret you know you’ll be unable to keep for more than a few moments longer.
“Weeks?” Astarion questions, his voice pitching up with worry and brows stitching together in concern.
Why in the hells are you smiling? What druid bullshit was in the tea Jaheira gave you?
He folds his arms across his chest, not at all pleased by the lack of seriousness you seem to display. The idea of you being sick for weeks makes his heart hurt and his stomach churn as if he’s still sick. He could never stand to see you uncomfortable.
“Tav, are you drugged? This is serious. I fail to see what there is to be smiling about right now. You’re going to be nauseous for weeks and you can’t use an Elixir of Health? Are you absolutely sure Jaheira even knows what she’s—“
“I’m pregnant, Astarion,” You interrupt, and you cannot help but to laugh at your husband as his mouth hangs open mid-sentence, frozen in shock.
He blinks for a moment or two, otherwise completely still as his brain rushes to process the new information.
When the elf finally regains his composure and finds his ability to speak, he shoots out a flustered, rambled, “Darling, I— I’m sorry, can you repeat that? I’m not certain I heard you correctly. The road is quite bumpy and the wheels of the carriage are loud— I think they need oil— and the horses—“
You laugh and firmly grasp your husband’s hand, wholly capturing his attention before murmuring, “You ridiculous elf. You heard me the first time. I’m pregnant, Astarion.”
You don’t think you’ve ever seen a bigger grin cross your husband’s face.
“Tav, darling, I— gods, just come here to me.”
Astarion’s lips crash into yours, and he’s smiling into the kiss as he threads a hand through your hair, intent on pressing you closer into him. A tiny, delighted hum escapes your husband as he uses the kiss to express all the feelings he cannot yet put into words.
When he finally pulls away, he cups your face with his hands and peppers a few more kisses upon your lips.
“Is this your way of telling me you’re happy about this, Astarion?” You ask, grinning at your husband as he gazes upon you with the most besotted eyes you’ve ever seen.
“Thrilled, my love,” He whispers, before pressing forward to kiss you again, trying to convey the depth of his excitement with his affections. He doesn’t let go of you the rest of the way home, almost desperate to cover you in worshipful kisses, each one a little vow of love to you.
You notice he's unusually quiet, but then, he’s far too busy smiling and smooching to do much talking.
*
Later that evening, you move to get out of bed and head toward the bedchamber door.
“Ah, ah, ah. Where do you think you’re going, little love?” Astarion calls, already tossing his book aside to follow after you, “What do you need? Let me bring it to you.”
“I just wanted a cup of water, Astarion. I can go get—“ You start, but he quickly presses a kiss to your lips, effectively quieting you.
“Hush, my love. You’re still nauseated and you’re carrying very precious cargo.” He gently chastises as he turns you by your shoulders and steers you back toward the bed.
“You’re being dramatic,” You grumble, sitting back down in the bed and wrinkling your nose at your husband.
“Perhaps,” He agrees, grinning down at you as he gently folds the blankets back around your legs, “But you knew exactly the type of theatrics you signed up for when you married me, darling. 'To have and to hold, to love and to cherish' and all that, hm?”
And in that moment, Astarion was certain he’d never love and cherish anything more than you.
Nine months later, the little silver-haired newborn he held in his arms would prove him wrong.
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azaharinflames · 16 days ago
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Well, hello my fellow and beloved BuckTommies. I come here with a new theory - not quite or what will happen, but on what did.
Let me put my tin hat firmly on my head for a second, alright? Because we have been talking about all kinds of possibilities, and have theorized about BTS, and even budget cuts, but.
We are all missing one thing.
What happened during the summer that has repercussions in the series right now? Or that will have in the immediate future, but we’re only seeing the start of...?
An ‘I Know What You Did Last Summer’ reboot was officially announced.
It is set to be filmed in Australia come the New Year. And JLH, famously having been in the first one, is going to Australia to film for this one as well. 
This means that, just like they did in Season 5, they will have to take JLH’s absence and other compromises into consideration. In Season 5 she was on maternity leave, this time around she has a movie to shoot. And it just hit me that it might be the reason why things got moved around, and why perhaps they did what they did with BuckTommy.
(Disclaimer: I am not putting this on JLH, and I don’t want anyone to do it either. If this is something that clashed with the initial plan, what the writers and Tim came up with it’s on them, never Jennifer)
We know Tim is not someone who writes his stuff in advance. He’s flying by the seat of his pants; he writes as he goes, and this is something he has said before. So now he has to write and plan in advance because Jennifer will be somewhat absent. The direct result of this is, in my opinion, Madney.
The storyline of them having a second child at home, having her go back to her family, having Jee notice her absence, and then starting to debate on whether to have a second kid… had the potential to be more than one episode. Or, at the very least, to end the episode with them deciding that, yeah, they want to try, they want to expand their family. Maddie’s mentality on PPD could’ve been an episode in itself (Lord knows we don’t get enough Maddie episodes, especially lately), instead of a throwaway line on how she doesn’t want PPD to define her. I do think it’s amazing she’s at that point in her life and on her journey, but I can’t help but think this could’ve also been a really nice episode arc to have. Chimney’s doubts were also gone pretty quickly, with not even needing to talk to anyone about it. All in all - the storyline felt rushed and a bit anticlimactic. And at this point, I can only imagine they will somehow try to create some drama surrounding the pregnancy in 808 (807 perhaps, but it feels like it’s busy enough) so that Jennifer’s absence is justified. We don’t know if, just like in Season 5, Kenny will also be absent (Chim going with Maddie wherever she goes, I don’t know). People weren’t happy with him having to be off the show in Season 5, so I hope he stays, but we don’t know just yet. 
A side result of this could’ve also been BuckTommy. If there is something I’ve gathered from Oliver and Lou’s interviews is that both were a bit surprised it happened this soon. Now, we don’t know if this means they were breaking up for good later on in the season, if this was supposed to be a longer arc, or if they knew there were talks of break-up-make-up, once they were more established. As it is, this happened now.
And in my mind there are two possible theories. Let me present first why I have them:
-They need some substantial drama to go on for 8b. Bathena went through it in S7 and now are rebuilding their life, so it would be a bit of an overkill to have them go through it in S8 as well. Eddie is going through his own stuff and is going on a journey of discovering and enjoying himself (that, personally, I hope deals with actually dealing with it and having deep conversations with Chris). Hen and Karen have just gone over the drama of the adoption and, to be honest, they need a breather. Give them SLs that don’t involve them somewhat losing their kids (be it adoption, or an accident). 
-So… that leaves Buck. Buck, whom we all joked was the only one doing fine in Season 7. Whom we all said was going to go through it in Season 8 to compensate for his happiness in 7. Well. The joke’s on us. He’s had such a drama-free period of his life (yes, affected by what was happening around him, but not directly involved in it) that I think we forgot they enjoy making him suffer. We barely saw a thing with Gerard, and nothing to last the whole season, so… now this. 
So. From this, I see two options:
-They always knew they wanted to have BT have issues, that they didn’t want them to be easy or smooth-sailing, because has a couple in this show been that? No, right? So why would they? So they wanted a break-up arc, potentially ending in making up. Perhaps things moved around a little bit, we don’t know. But maybe they want 8b to deal with Buck trying to see what Tommy meant, yet realizing he still wants Tommy, thus starting the make-up arc. Meaning, they decided to have BT bear the weight of the heavy drama of this second half. People are already invested, clearly, and with JLH gone for a bit, they need people interested in what will happen next.
-Sort of the same, but different results - they just want Buck dating around and having drama with that. Admittedly weaker than the other option, but it is one I don’t necessarily eliminate just yet. Mostly because I’ve learned to be skeptical of 911’s intentions. 
Previous to 806, I fully expected 8b to have more Buck/BT, Madney stories as A plot, as they haven’t had one in 8A. But now that I think about it all, I can’t help but wonder if those last minutes decisions were to accomodate what will happen, just like it happened in Season 5 (which, I will remind you, dealt with her absence by having a lot more of Taylor than we were expecting. Her appearances went down quite a bit once JLH and Kenny were back, and shortly after, she was gone).
Again, I am aware I might be delulu right now. But for the first time in days, something has fully made sense to me. In conclusion:
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celestie0 · 4 months ago
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Are we gonna have smut in ihm soon?🤭
man it’s really fuckin disappointing and sad to spend 10 hrs out of my week to try to create a meaningful story, one that resonates a lot with me and the things i’ve been through in my life, one that i hope my readers can resonate with and see themselves in, just to get asks like this.
like, picture this. you get super excited to write this story of yours, you plan aaaaaall these secondary plot lines, introduce new characters, create different character dynamics, try to include scenes that strengthen relationships with already existing character dynamics. plan out an ENTIRE story on paper (my ideas doc ALONE for ihm has 13k+ words) and try to leave subtle clues here and there in your chapters to support a build up of tensions that’ll lead to a payoff later on in the series. oh, and this is just the planning part. did you know that it takes the average person 1-2 hrs to write 1k words? the last ihm chapter was 14.1k words. go ahead and do the math, and try to figure out how long it must’ve taken me to write it. without even counting the time spent i spent editing it.
i know that this fandom is so horny brainrot fucked up to the nines, i’ve sincerely never seen a fandom that needs to touch grass more than the jjk fandom. and admittedly, i am also super excited to write more smut in my stories! sex is fuckin cool n sexy! but let me just get one thing straight to you horny anons that send me asks like this: my stories are STORIES first and foremost. they are not VESSELS for your FANTASIES. they are not PORN with PLOT. they are my stories, that i write drawing from my real life experiences. and, hey, news flash, they mean a fuckin lot to me! i’m assuming you didn’t do the math on the 14.1k word chapter thing, but i’ll tell you right now: it took me maybe 20 hours to write ch3 of ihm. something that probs took you 1 hour to read, and then ten seconds to send me this ask. surely your tonedeaf brain can at least understand that i wouldn’t spend that much fuckin’ time writing something if it was just supposed to be porn with plot.
listen, i know that i’m not the best writer. i understand that, after reading all of this, you might be thinking “shut the fuck up bitch, your writing aint alla that for me to respect you. we only care about the smut, don’t you understand?” that’s valid. i’ll respect that. i never claimed to be a great author, or deserving of anything meaningful from you in return. ultimately, it’s my choice to spend the time that i do writing, no one’s forcing me, and i would never expect people to support me either (although i am always infinitely grateful for it and tbh the support is what keeps me writing). but what i don’t deserve is to be sent careless asks that make me feel like you see no purpose in my stories other than sex. other than smut. other than a penis going inside a fucking vagina.
anon, you know what would make me excited to continue writing my story? excited to get to the parts where characters ARE intimate with one another? is if you maybe threw in something as simple as a fuckin “hey i loved that part in ihm ch3 where [x]. thought it was a cool thing to do. btw, looking forward to the smut!” would’ve taken you a solid 30 seconds. it just took me 30 seconds to type that. or? you know what else you can do? go sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up, and spend 20+ hrs writing a 14k+ oneshot on the smut that you so badly wanna see. it’s your choice. really! i mean it. go be the change you wanna see in this world.
i have never once felt like i deserved any of the support that i’ve gotten. idk how to write pretty prose. or moving stories. i read some other people’s work on this app and i’m genuinely gobsmacked by how talented they are and constantly think how shitty my writing is in comparison. but my thing is that i am at least trying my best to write stories that people feel worthy of reading, because i feel like that’s the kind of respect that an audience deserves. i am trying my best to put my character and integrity into things that i write, even if what i produce ends up falling flat or doesn’t come across. but this ask isn’t an isolated issue. this issue has come up multiple times in the time i’ve had my blog, where people just reduce my stories down to smut smut smut smut smut when are we gonna get smut when are they gonna fuck write more smut in kickoff you should make ihm couple fuck like rabbits in the next chapter oh we better see them do [redacted redacted redacted] or else imma [redacted redacted redacted]. my fics are literally TAGGED with "slow burn romance"...i am fully transparent about it. and while i’ve also gotten so many meaningful heartfelt reactions to my stories (which, btw, were tastefully horny…yes, there is a way to send an author an ask that is tastefully horny while also appreciating their work!! insane wild concept!! /sarcasm), unfortunately these bad interactions will always stick.
like. would you ask someone you knew irl that was writing a novel, when they're gonna write the smut for it? would you tell them to hurry tf up and finish their novel just so that you can read the smut? would you send them your smut fantasies and be like "include this in your novel for ME because I want it "? no. because they'd think you're creepy n weird asf n overbearing then drop you. so why is it okay to do that to an author on tumblr? what happened to manners? what happened to decorum? especially for creators who are making you content for FREE.
if i was an author that wrote purely smut oneshots, i’d maybe kinda sorta understand (still think it's wrong asf, regardless of the content of stories that you write). but i feel like, after the 200k+ words that i’ve poured into my two stories (including the chapters i’ve written that i haven’t yet released) where it’s CLEARLY evident that these stories are much more than smut, i’d think that i deserve treatment a little bit better than this.
i’m done. i’m done trying to be nice. i’m done just silently deleting rude asf asks because i don’t wanna cause a scene. i’m done worrying about hurting people’s feelings, when I’M the one that is getting my feelings hurt while you just get to hide behind an anon.
i. am. just. fucking. done.
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heartsforvin · 6 months ago
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hi baby, so i was thinking about this earlier when i saw an edit of him but anyway,
what if the reader and vinnie have been dating for a couple months but privately, so on there social media’s there’s like no evidence that they’re in a relationship, and vinnie films that one video with tara and everyone starts shipping them and the reader gets pissed off and it causes a fight between reader and vinnie that possibly ends in smut? if you’re not comfortable with that you can adjust it and finish it however you want, but i was just thinking of this earlier and thought if anyone could bring it to life it would be you! <3 love youuu
MINE
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thank you for the request ml <33 i hope you like it !!
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pairing: vinnie hacker x fem!reader
warnings: smut, angst, cussing, use of pet names, arguing/ yelling, praise, slapping, if i missed anything lmk !
summary: when you see people start to ship vinnie with other girls online, you get a bit defensive but vinnie reminds you who you’re with
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you and vinnie haven’t been together long, only a couple of months. both of you decided to keep your relationship private since you knew how his fans could get majority of the time when he’s seen with any girl.
you were upset when he brought up the proposition at first, but knew where he was coming from and respected his decision nonetheless.
it was the best thing to do, anyways. you had seen some pictures on his feed with girl friends from the past few years and saw how crazy his fanbase can get when he’s anywhere near a girl.
it upset you in some extent. you weren’t the type of girl to tell your boyfriend he can’t have friends that are girls.
however, you knew if the fans did know the two of you were together and he had posted about hanging with his friend group, he’d get backlash on it and drama would start up.
drama you did not need, nor want.
so the two of you stuck to yourselves, and you both couldn’t be happier.
◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡
you were laying on your shared bed when vinnie came sprinting into the room with the biggest smile on his face.
“what’s got you so excited?” you ask as you sit up and wrap your arms around his waist.
vinnie pulls you up off the bed so you’re in his arms and he continues to smile until saying, “remember tara? we met her at that halloween party a few years back.”
you nod your head, remembering the girl well. “she just texted and told me she wanted to film a youtube video with me. it’s for her new series and so i thought you would be the first to know.
vinnie knew you weren’t the jealous type, at least not overly jealous. he knew you were his you he is yours and there was absolutely nothing to worry about.
he still felt the need to ask if he could film the video. he knew the fans might get the wrong impression, but tara was nothing more than a friend to not only him but the both of you.
“that’s so exciting, vin,” you tell him as you hug him tightly. “are you doing that now?”
he nods. “yeah, if that’s alright. i know we had plans to just hang out but she said this needed to be out soon and it’s the only day we’re both available.”
you smile with a shake to your head, completely understanding. “go ahead and have fun, baby. text me when you’re on your way back though, okay?”
vinnie agreed and kissed you softly before he grabbed his things and headed out the door.
◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡
a day has passed since vinnie and tara filmed the video together and you and vinnie sat on your bed refreshing tara’s youtube channel.
since you didn’t go with him, you had asked vinnie if you could watch the video when it was posted.
he of course told you you could, but that he’d probably step out of the room just because he doesn’t like to watch the videos he’s in.
your smile grew once you saw the video pop up on the screen. vinnie clicked on it for you to watch while he went to go find hera.
once you finished the video you went to go see where vinnie went. you saw him cuddled up on the couch with hera.
“i loved it.” is all you said to the boy on the couch. he smiled and sat up.
“i know your favorite part was the tattoo on my weiner joke.” he said with a laugh.
you pushed his chest playfully and laughed with him. “no one will ever know besides me if that’s true or not,” you say. “i’ve looked though, you don’t have one there.”
vinnie smiled and pulled you into him. “you know all those things i said were just jokes, right?” he was referring to the jokes he made with tara.
the one where he had said he’s finding a more ‘private spot’ for them so she could see this alleged tattoo.
you nodded as you brushed through his hair with your fingers. “i know they are,” you said. “just wondering what the comments will be like.”
that’s what led you to the next few hours. you didn’t expect the day to turn out like this at all.
you had mistakenly read the comments of the video and on tara’s instagram post promoting it. comments that were shipping him and tara together, saying how cute they’d be and so on.
as much as you wanted to stop reading them, it’s like you couldn’t. they were consuming you, making you more angry by the second.
“i bet you after they stopped filming he took her somewhere private.” you read aloud.
you hear vinnie scoff, making you look up from your laptop. “you know that’s not true.” he said.
you lower your head and read more. every time you refresh more come in. it’s like you couldn’t stop even if you wanted.
“they keep shipping the two of you.” your voice is so low vinnie can barely hear it.
you knew this would happen, but seeing it for yourself hurts more than hearing it.
even if the fans don’t know vinnie’s seeing anyone, it still hurts and angers you to see your boyfriend being told he’d look good with some other girl.
“shouldn’t have told you you could do it.” that peaks vinnie’s interest and his demeanor quickly changes.
you watch as he crosses his arms over his chest. “you knew this would happen. thought you said you can handle it?”
you sigh, getting frustrated with his use of words. you could handle it, you are handing it. it’s just the thought and seeing people pair him with someone else that gets you upset.
“i can handle it, thank you,” you scoff at your boyfriend. “i’m sorry the thought of my boyfriend being with another girl upsets me.”
with a roll to your eyes you start to walk away, but vinnie catches you before you make it too far.
“you have the right to get mad,” he says. “but you don’t need to be this mad over it. you knew what you were getting yourself into when we started dating.”
that sentence just frustrates you more. “they are too fucking obsessive over you!” you shout.
it was true, they could get a bit obsessive and overprotective, but vinnie had learned to ignore it most of the time.
“you know i’m right,” you breathe out. “everywhere i look it’s you getting paired up with someone you are standing next to, and suddenly everyone’s saying you’re dating them."
you sigh heavy and rub your hands over your face. you knew it was probably a dumb thing to get upset about, but vinnie was your boyfriend, not theirs.
“i don’t want any of them,” vinnie says in a harsh tone. “you know i only want you. do you need a reminder of that?”
the question suddenly shifts the mood in the room and suddenly your upset expression turns into a smile.
“you do, don’t you?” vinnie asks again. he closes in on you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “answer me, pretty. is that what you want?”
his breath on your ear makes you go cold. you feel his lips plant themselves on your neck, sucking just enough to let a bruise form moments after.
you nod your head and vinnie unwraps himself for you, pushing you lightly to your shared bedroom. you don’t even have to be told what to do next.
when he meets you in there, he’s met with the sight of you on your bed, smiling ear to ear once you see him.
“oh, now you’re happy?” his tone is almost condescending, making you wipe the smile completely off your face.
vinnie cocks his head, he watches as you scoot back on the bed and lift your hips to take off your shorts and panties.
he nods his head slowly with a smile. “good girl.”
you watch his next move carefully, not wanting to make him yell at you more. you watch as he pulls his shirt off, then unbuckles his pants and pulls them down next.
“shirt.” is all he says before you lift the hem of your shirt and pull it off.
you don’t have time to speak before he’s hovering over you and kissing you. his hands find their way to your tits and knead them in his palms, making you whine and dig your head in the pillow.
vinnie laughs when he feels your hips buck up into his. “you want this?” he asks.
you nod frantically as you tug at his boxers, needing him to have the same little clothing as you.
“please.” you say as you rake your nails down his bare chest.
vinnie smiles as he takes your hands and places them on the waistband of his boxers. you look up at him, eyes asking what you can’t, and he smiles and tells you yes.
he kisses you roughly once his boxers hit the floor and the two of you lie there naked. he lifts you up so his hands are on your back.
the kiss continues, without missing a beat vinnie takes himself in his hand and strokes a few times before lifting you up and setting you on his lap.
once your body makes contact with his, you can’t help but moan at the feeling of him inside of you.
“fuck,” he breathes out once he bottoms out inside you. “feel so good baby.”
you claw at his back as he thrusts deeper into you. vinnie winces at the contact of your nails scratching at his back.
you’re about to speak but before you can, vinnie lifts you off him and pushes you onto the back of the headboard.
“you wanna know who i want?” his tone is stern, making you smile even though you should probably do anything but.
nodding, you watch as he lifts your legs and wraps them around his shoulders. he carefully pushes himself into you before bottoming out.
you lift your head and vinnie immediately knows what you want. he leans his head down and meets you halfway, kissing you softly.
the two of you pull apart and his head leans back as he thrusts deep into you, eliciting moans from both of you.
“vinnie.” is all you can muster out as he continues his pace.
he smirks as he watches you lift yourself up, holding yourself up by your elbows.
“tell me what you want,” his voice deep as he speaks. “come on pretty girl, use your words.”
your body shakes when you feel his right and make contact with your right breast, smacking it just enough to elicit a moan of pleasure out of you.
“like that, huh?” he asks, completely forgetting what he said moments prior.
you nod as you watch his hand knead your breast, making you tilt your head back.
“vin.” his name slips from your lips in a whine, making vinnie smile.
his hand moves from your breast back to your thigh. his pace quickens and tears well into your eyes at the pressure of him.
vinnie pushes himself into you more until he sees the bulge form in your tummy. he chuckles as his hand makes contact with your lower stomach.
“baby, fuck.” his voice is strained. you look up at what he wants you to see and you smile.
you feel pressure on your stomach and look to see what your boyfriend could be doing.
“see that princess,” he breathes out. “see that? that’s all me.” he thrusts harder, pushing his hand against you.
a loud moan erupts from you which makes vinnie smile. “that’s it pretty, let me hear you.”
his hand moves from your stomach to your clit, helping you reach your peak.
“vinnie, shit.” his thumb makes tight circles on your clit, making you cross your legs together against his back.
“i only want you princess.” he tells you. “i don’t want anyone else, alright? you’re mine, i’m yours.”
his thumbs fast pace and this thrusts is becoming too much for you, your moans are getting more high pitched as you feel your high approaching.
“come on baby, be a good girl for me.” he kisses your hip which only makes you squirm at the feeling.
after a few more thrusts and rubs to your sensitive clit, you don’t have time to warn him before you’re cumming all over him.
“that’s it,” he says as he helps you ride out your high. “good girl.”
you’re panting and smiling up at him as you watch vinnie slowly pull out of you after a moment.
you sit up completely snd kiss him roughy, smiling once you pull away.
“do you believe me now?” he asks you, you chuckle and smile at him before kissing him softer this time.
you nod your head. “i think i need one more refresher though.”
vinnie laughs and tackles you so your laying flat on the bed. “you’re insufferable sometimes.”
you push his chest. “oh you’re so getting it.”
before vinnie can speak you get the strength to flip him over and now you’re the one hovering over him.
“now it’s your turn to be good for me.” you say with a smirk.
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girl this has been in the works for days and idk how to feel about it 😣 i hope you all like it !! thank you for the request again <3
tags: @anqeliclust , @cosmicanakin , @42internetgirl , @leqonsluv3r , @bernelflo , @slvthrs , @lovelysturnioloos , @lovingsturniolo , @pepsicolapussy333 , @visualbutterflysworld , @hallecarey1 , @laylasbunbunny , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @defnotayonna , @supabhad , @kayleighh , @kriissy4gov
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thelov3lybookworm · 1 year ago
Text
I Didn't Ask For This (part twelve)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11
Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.
All her dreams would be shattered.
But maybe she can salvage them?
•○●⛦●○•
Tw: none that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.
A/n: you did not think I would forget about my baby, did you? Yes, I am in fact, not dead. And yes, I didn't write anything for this fic for a long time because I had no idea what to do 😌
Also, thank you for all the love that you gave this one. I am soo glad I was able to write something for you to love. 🥹❣️
This is the last part in this series. But if there is something you want to see in a possible epilogue, please send in an ask or comment.
Enjoy!
•○🌑○•
A loud knock on the door startled Y/n, who was trying not to get caught reading the very... not child friendly stuff Nesta had given her. Cauldron knew what else Nesta had in store for Y/n.
The knock was a little too loud to be Azriel, because most of the time Y/n didn't even realise someone had knocked when Azriel knocked. So it was definitely most probably Cassian, who was probably excited about something.
She got up to open the door, wondering if she should hide the book she was reading in case Cassian decided to barge in. For Cassian, it wouldn't be anything new.
She felt like it was the biggest shock in her life when she found Azriel standing outside the door, his hand poised to knock again as he grinned widely at her, panting.
Because, first of all, Azriel was a quiet person. Hell, even his wings made no sound when flying. If he knocked so loud, it was probably something huge. She didn't know if it was a good thing or not.
And second and more concerning thing was that Azriel was grinning. This was a man who would glare at people just for smiling in his direction.
Now she wondered if she really should have hidden the book.
"Azriel? Is everything alright?"
Impossibly, he somehow managed to grin wider. Once he had gained some semblance of control over his breathing, he spoke.
"Everything's fine. Perfect even."
Now Y/n was seriously concerned.
"Why are you grinning?"
"I need to show you something."
He offered her his hand, which she eyed suspiciously before taking. "What is it?"
"It wouldn't be fun if I told you about it." He pointed out, leading her to a nearby balcony.
That made sense.
He picked her up and began flying, the setting sun making the atmosphere beautiful. That was all Y/n tried to think about because if she didn't, she would continue to hound Azriel for answers, and he was too stubborn for his own good. He wouldn't tell her what it was, no matter what.
Soon, he was landing in front of a beautiful house, a beautiful lawn surrounding it. The area was quiet. There were similar looking houses nearby, a few shops. They were near the center of Velaris, but the pace was still quiet, tranquil even. Just like Azriel.
Y/n thought she knew what was going on, but still she asked. "Why are we here?"
Azriel grinned, a light blush dusting his cheeks. "I wanted to show you this place. Do you like it?"
"It's beautiful." She stretched out the word, searching his face.
"I brought that home. I thought now that we are... getting to know each other again and are comfortable, we might as well live somewhere far from Cassian and Nesta. Figured you might be just as tired of them as I am. Of course, I'm not saying you should live with me if you don't want to, but one day... maybe?" He looked at her when he finished rambling, his eyes hopeful.
She smiled. "I would love to live with you Azriel. So, when are we going to move in?"
Azriel's face lit up like a child who had recieved a gift on solstice. "As soon as possible. If you're okay with it." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Do you want to take a look inside?"
"Sure."
Azriel led her inside the mostly empty but clean house, a little jump in his steps. Y/n smiled and shook her head as he walked in front of her, opening all the doors and cupboards, a small grin on his blushing face.
•○🌑○•
Azriel was cooking, having forced Y/n to sit and watch. Since there weren't many things in the house except for a couch, bed and a few cupboards, Azriel had flown back to the house of wind to get items for their dinner.
She had offered to cook, but he had refused. And since then, Y/n could tell he was trying really hard to impress her with his cooking skills.
They kept talking throughout, his focus equally divided.
Right now, he was seemingly about to flip the food in the pan, and he turned to her.
"Watch this." But then he realised she was already watching, and he faltered.
Unfortunately, he had already begun to move the pan. And because he wasn't paying attentiont to the pan, the food items in the pan scattered all around the kitchen, and Y/n hid her smile behind a hand.
Cauldron, Azriel was adorable.
He stared at the mess, his shoulders slumping. Y/n hopped down from the counter she was siting on and moved closer to him. "Go. Sit. I'll make us something."
Azriel shook his head. "No."
Y/n cocked her head. "Why not? I cooked all the time by myself before."
"I'll get something from a restaurant."
Her brows furrowed. "But why?"
"Because I want to treat you better than you have been treated before." He mumbled under his breath, barely audible. Maybe he was trying to not let her hear, but she did.
Her heart swelled, as if it tripped fell down the stairs and now had to rest in bed for its whole life.
"You are treating me good." She smiled at him when he looked at her with wide eyes. He blushed furiously when she placed a tender kiss on his cheek.
"What– what would you like to eat?"
Y/n sighed. "Anything. I don't really have something in mind."
Azriel nodded. "I'll be back soon."
And with that, he bounded off towards the door, leaving his shadows behind to clean up the mess he had made.
•○🌑○•
Y/n watched as her husband moved his hand animatedly, his face filled with excitement.
The two of them sat on the couch, knees touching. Y/n wondered if in a few moments she'd be on his lap.
It had started out with her on the couch and him on the armchair near the fire, having finished their dinner sitting on the kitchen counter top because there was no table or chairs. After that, they had moved to hear the fireplace.
They had sat in silence, contemplating what to talk about when she found Azriel grinning.
When she asked him about it, he told her about how his shadows loved to be nosy and knew almost everyone's secret. How they had been telling him about the secret of the little boy passing by the house. It was that he had stolen a cookie without his mother's knowledge, and how he prayed to the cauldron that she never found out.
Since then, he had begun telling her of all the juicy secrets he gathered over the years, his shadows occasionally chiming in to add to the information. He had slowly begun shifting towards her as he spoke.
It wasn't long before he settled on the opposite end of the couch, a huge smile on his face as he told her of one of his favourite secrets that he found out, his body seemingly moving of its own accord.
Throughout the night after that, he had shifted closer anytime he got a little more excited, her scooting closer when she got more and more intrested in the story he was telling.
He finally stopped speaking, taking a deep breath, his cheeks flushed and a wide grinon his face.
Y/n sighed. "Well... that was a journey."
"I have better stories than that." He smirked smugly when her eyes widened in disbelief.
"Liar. I don't believe you. Even Nesta's books have less dramatic plot lines."
He grinned, shaking his head. "Speaking of Nesta's books... did you enjoy the book that you were you reading today?"
Y/n immediately tensed. "What do you mean?"
He gave her a sly smirk. "I'm the spymaster of the night court, Y/n, and I've been married to you for almost six months now. Do you really think I don't know what conspires between you and Nesta when me and Cassian aren't looking?"
A blush climbed up Y/n's neck. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Sure. Let me help you with that–" And then, as if the damn book had been next to him this whole time, he pulled it out of between his shadows and flipped open to where she had been reading when he interrupted her that morning. She knew that because she found the candy wrapper she placed in between the pages to mark the her progress.
She gasped, but he was already beginning to read. "Where were you? I think it was here? He grinned up at her from between her thighs..." He paused for a moment, reading, before he clicked his tongue. "You are really interested in this?"
He was busy reading, and so he didn't see her reaching out to snatch the book until she had a firm grasp on the book. He looked at her in surprise, but she began tugging. Of course, he didn't let her pull it too far before he himself started tugging at it.
"Let go Azriel."
He gave a harsh tug, and Y/n was no match for his strength. She lurched forward, her hand landing on his shoulder. Her face was mere inches from his and he grinned up at her.
"Really? You like this–" He shook the book near her face. "–this thing so much? Honestly, you could choose better."
Her whole face flushed as she tried to keep herself from glancing at his lips. "Don't be mean. It's rude to judge people."
"Hard not to when you read childish things like these." She scowled at him, and he leaned closer to her as he whispered, "Honestly, I could show you better things. The male here is like a newborn child compared to me."
Y/n blinked in shock, his closeness doing nothing to help her slow brain. He huffed a laugh at her reaction, and the air on her face finally pulled her from her daze. She began to pull back, trying to retreat back into her original position, but he caught hold of the hand on his shoulder, his expression serious.
Azriel's eyes trailed down to her mouth, and his tongue flicked out to lick his lips. He glanced up at her eyes, his eyes swimming with question.
Y/n knew it would be pointless and stupid to pretend she didn't want what he was offering. She could not keep lying to herself when this was all she wanted since the two of them began spending more time together.
So she simply leaned back in, her eyes fluttering shut when his breath caressed her features again.
•○●⛦●○•
Azriel didn't need anymore confirmation.
He was tired of waiting, and now that she was so close, it was too hard not to sink his teeth into her. Into those beautiful lips, that beautiful body.
So he surged up, and caught his lips with hers.
In that moment, it felt like he had found peace. Something he had been searching his whole life for. Like he had found the home he never had.
Not the house he was currently in, but home in her.
And when she gasped, he realised there were multiple reasons responsible for that feeling.
First obviously being that he loved her.
Second, she loved him.
And how did he know?
He felt it coming at him in waves.
Through the newly found golden string connecting their souls.
I love you. The emotions he felt from her seemed to tell him.
I love you more. The emotions he sent back to her.
And there, on that couch in their new house, tangled in each other's arms...
Azriel and Y/n were finally home.
•○🌑○•
Taglist: @bubybubsters @maxxieluvs @bubbbllee @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @waytoomanyteenagefeels @tell-me-a-poem @the-lake-is-calling @spaxxxi @japanese-wonderland-blog @valeridarkness @moonlwghts @deadratio @esposadomd @harrystylesfan2686 @missusbarnes-rogers @whatthefuckshappeningrn @hyacinthoideshispanica @historygeekqueen @lizziesfirstwife @nastynesta @aroseinvelaris @nightless @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kodokunarisu-blog @selillusion @eos-princess @moonfawnx @a-court-of-milkandhoney @emilyo-218 @wannabewolf @ailyr92 @chronically-online-cheese @myheartfollower @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @marina468 @menaosama @starryhiraeth @hereticdance @mali22 @valencia-rou @azrielsstarlight @marvelouslovely-barnes @luvmoo @starlight-hope @a-frog-with-a-laptop @fall-myriad @alt-ghost @elleofdragons @ruleroftides @5moremin @stargirl1714 @bunnymallowo @ivy-34 @aria-chikage @kalulakunundrum
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melzula · 8 months ago
Text
North and South
part three
pairing: zuko x princess!reader
notes: we’re finally at the end! i hope you guys like some of the changes i made to the original comic storyline :)
summary: with Gilak in jail and the Northerners gone you assume the worst is over, but the festival incident was just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to how far the man is willing to go
~ part of the fire lilies series ~
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You don’t understand how everything has gotten so out of control.
What was meant to be a wonderful celebration of your friends’ return home had quickly been ruined Gilak’s ambush, and if not for Katara’s ability to heal Hakoda woukd have lost his life tonight. Tensions are high in the South, and you find yourself overwhelmed with worry for the future of the Water Tribe. If your people can’t even get along with each other, how will you ever be able to connect with the other nations?
“I don’t know what to do,” you admit in defeat as Zuko watches you pace back and forth from his place on your bed. “I know Gilak doesn’t speak for everyone, and for the most part everyone has been onboard with the changes we’ve made to the South, but there are still some Southerners who share his sentiment, and I don’t know how to fix it so that everyone is happy.”
“That’s the thing, y/n,” Zuko corrects you gently, being sure to phrase his words carefully so as to not upset you, “you can’t make everyone happy. It’s impossible. As leader you have to do what’s best for the majority, even if it means not everyone will like it. Just look at the New Ozai Society. They’ll never be happy no matter what I do as Fire Lord, but I don’t let their dislike for my decisions influence how I lead the Fire Nation.”
“I suppose you’re right,” you relent with a dejected sigh, flopping down beside him in defeat and sprawling out onto the blankets. “I just can’t help but feel like I should be doing more as Chief. I didn’t know about Gilak and his army, and I certainly didn’t know about Maliq’s ulterior motives regarding the oil refinery. Shouldn’t I have known?”
“You can’t be everywhere at once. You have to remember you’ve been busy rebuilding an entire tribe from the ground up while also trying to restore a part of your culture that was almost lost forever. You’re doing more than enough, and your people are grateful for all you do,” he assures you with a careful smile as he gently pushes back the hair from your face. “Maliq and his crew are leaving by morning and Gilak is in jail. Tomorrow will be better.”
“I’m so glad you’re here,” you express earnestly as you pull yourself up and press a kiss to his cheek. “I don’t know how I’d get through all of this without you.”
“Well it’s a good thing you don’t have to,” he smiles before sweetly brushing his nose against your own. After the chaos of the day, it’s nice to finally have a moment to settle down with your boyfriend, and you’re appreciative of the comfort Zuko always manages to bring you no matter how stressful the situation.
“Did you at least have fun at the festival? You know, before the whole drill incident,” you ask with a sheepish smile as you begin to carefully remove the braids you’d styled into Zuko’s hair for the party.
“I did,” he breathes out in a laugh, immediately melting at the sensation of your careful fingers combing through his hair. “It was a wonderful festival.”
He says nothing more as you continue to brush through his locks; it’s gotten longer since the last time you’ve seen him, and you enjoy the change. You’ve always loved his hair, and you appreciate the fact that he allows you the intimacy of brushing it for him.
“Do you think the conference will go well tomorrow? I’m afraid it might be too soon to start our work with the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation if we can’t even seem to get along with the North.”
“You can’t wait for progress,” Zuko notes thoughtfully. “Making connections will only improve the South’s rebuilding process.”
You hum thoughtfully in response, but your mind begins to wander. You’re trying to see things from an open perspective, making changes that will benefit your people without forgetting about their past, but you haven’t been completely open to Hakoda’s suggestions. You were quick to shut down the idea of the oil rig despite its benefits, and though you’d been proven right about the problems such a project could cause, you also knew that not using available resources would also stunt the tribe’s growth. Zuko says you can’t wait for progress, but how do you know when the time is right?
“We should rest,” you suggest after finishing your work. “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“I guess you’re right,” he relents with a sigh before rising from his seat on your bed. “I’ll see you in the morning?”
“You will,” you assure him before gifting him a kiss goodnight and watching him exit your room. Now alone, you collapse back onto your bed with an exhausted sigh.
“Tomorrow will be better,” you try to remind yourself.
But you’re not sure if you entirely believe that.
~~~
The day is calmer now that the construction crew is gone and Gilak is locked away. There are a handful of protestors outside the palace gates who demand that all foreigners leave the South, but they don’t seem to speak for the majority of your people, and for that you are grateful. Sokka and Toph manage crowd control while you prepare for the arrival of King Kue and the conference that is to take place today. Things are normal for the most part and your plans are back on track, so you try to remain positive and focused on the tasks at hand.
“Are you sure this conference is a good idea, y/n?” Katara asks after pulling you aside to express her concerns with you privately, the uncertainty clear on her features. “After everything that’s happened maybe the South just needs to handle things on its own first before starting to work with other nations.”
“I understand your concern, but with most of the Northerners gone we basically are on our own now. There are just some things the South can’t do by itself, so collaborating with other countries will not only give us connections but possible resources as well. I have to look at the bigger picture here.”
Katara is silent for a moment as she digests your words, but after a few moments of contemplation she finally gives you a nod. “I trust you’ll do what’s best for the tribe. I just don’t want us to end up becoming a cheap imitation of the North or lose our identity by inviting other Nations into our home.”
“Do you remember the conflict that arose during the Harmony Restoration Movement when the Earth King tried to separate the colonies?” You ask her with a faint smile, continuing when she gives you a puzzled yes as an answer. “We realized keeping the Fire and Earth people apart would do more harm than good for the future of the world and decided we needed to work together to build peace. Our entire friend group is composed of different nations, and our relationships too. My future with Zuko is dependent on our homes working together, on our people connecting with one another, and so I ask that you try to view this situation the same way you viewed it then.”
“I guess I never thought of it that way,” the water bender admits guiltily, your words obviously having struck a nerve with her. Who was she to pick and choose who got to work together and who didn’t? You had a point, and it was making her question how she truly felt about the changes occurring in her home.
“Chief y/n,” Hakoda calls from the doorway, promptly ending your discussion with Katara, “King Kue has arrived.”
The Earth King enters the meeting room with a look of awe as he observes the interior of the chamber and admires the Southern architecture of the building, and you promptly bow in respect in his presence before offering him your hand to shake.
“King Kue, it’s my honor to have you here in the South. We greatly appreciate you taking the time to attend this conference.”
“I’ve been wanting to visit the South Pole for years since meeting you all! It’s wonderful albeit freezing,” he admits with a sheepish chuckle while taking your hand.
“We’re happy to have you here, and after the conference I’d be glad to give you a tour,” you sincerely assure him before guiding him to his seat.
With all of your friends and the king present, you’re able to begin your presentation alongside Hakoda. You let him and Malina take the reins for the first half as they detail their plans to create an updated harbor for the South. They explain the logistics and the benefits of the project before allowing you to take over and explain the diplomatic prospects.
“Our hope is that this harbor will give the world a chance to visit our home and partake in our commerce as well as educate themselves on our history. Through outreach we hope to build stronger connections with our neighboring nations and establish an era of harmony and peace,” you explain with a pleased smile, eager to convey your ideas for the other leaders to hear. This is definitely the biggest thing you’ve done as Chief so far, and you briefly wonder if your father would be proud to see how far you’ve come.
“Chief y/n also came up with the idea of establishing embassies in both of your nations as well as allowing you to do the same here to further outreach between our people. However, as advisor I must note we don’t necessarily have the funds to enact this plan,” Hakoda states plainly, exchanging glances with you before looking to Zuko and Kue, “and that is why we’ve invited you here. We would be thrilled to have your partnership to make this vision a reality and strengthen the bond between our homes.”
You hopefully scan the room to gauge their reactions, and for the most part everyone seems to be open to your plan- well, everyone but Katara. It isn’t easy to ignore the subtle disapproval on her features and her obvious hesitance to opening up the South to the world, and it diminishes your optimistic mood. You recall what Zuko had said about not being to make everyone happy, but it’s hard to do when it’s one of your closest friends that seems to disapprove of your choices.
“You can count the Fire Nation in,” Zuko says proudly while directing his gaze from Hakoda to you. “Your people have suffered so much destruction at our hands, and we are grateful for the opportunity to help you rebuild.”
“Thank you, Fire Lord Zuko. Your efforts are greatly appreciated,” you express sincerely, taking extra care to be professional when speaking to your boyfriend in front of your peers.
“I’m sorry that the Earth Kingdom can’t offer our support so readily. We have so many of our own needs at home,” King Kue states sullenly with obvious disappointment clear in his tone. “But if I could show my advisers that the Southern Water Tribe is going to make measurable, concrete progress toward civilization-“
“Excuse me?!” Katara butts in harshly. The offense is clear in her tone, and her outburst takes everyone by surprise.
“Oh dear, please forgive the clumsiness of my words, Katara! I should have phrased it differently,” he quickly interjects in a panic. “We would simply want you to achieve a higher form where the South becomes a cleaner, safer, nicer-“
“King Kue,” you interrupt gently as you do your best to remain calm despite your displeasure at his words, “please be mindful when speaking about our home. You are a guest here, and just as we treat you with respect we expect the same.”
“Of course! What I meant to say was-“
“Chief y/n!” A voice interrupts as one of your guards bursts into the room. His tone and features are full of urgency as he approaches. “We’ve just received an alert from the prison! Gilak and his army-“
You cry out in horror as the man is swiftly knocked unconscious by a boomerang, and all your friends quickly jump up from the table in preparation to defend themselves from the oncoming threat. Zuko is by your side in an instant, guarding your figure with his own so that you’re kept away from the danger. He knows you can handle yourself, but after what happened with Koa he isn’t taking any chances this time.
Gilak and his men flood through the doorway, his malicious gaze focused on Hakoda who stands in the center of the room and protectively shields Malina from the group.
“Look at you, Hakoda. So eager to sell our tribe to foreign masters! And you,” he says in disdain as he points his boomerang in your direction, “so easy to be brainwashed by your advisor and your ash maker boyfriend. So easy to manipulate and fool. Perhaps Koa was right about you, y/n. What does a little girl know about running a tribe?”
“You watch your mouth!” Sokka cries out harshly in defense of you and his father.
“You watch it, boy. We’re taking over this meeting.”
“For the tribe!” Gilak’s soldiers cry out before all chaos breaks loose. Two of his men charge towards you only for Zuko to shoot flames towards them in retaliation.
“Stay back!” He commands fiercely, but your own safety is the least of your worries at the moment.
“Protect the Earth King!” You call out as you send a blast of snow into the gut of an attacker before they can reach Kue. Another soldier tries to strike you from behind, but you’re able to quickly dodge their attack before encasing their feet in ice so they can longer attempt an attack on you or your friends. “You swore an oath to serve the royal family and the people of this tribe! How dare you turn against me?!”
“It’s not us you should be worrying about, Chief,” the woman glowers scornfully. “It’s that no good Hakoda and your Fire Lord boyfriend you should be looking out for. They’ve made you forget who you are.”
“I know who I am,” you utter lowly before raising your hands to lift the ice so it encases her entire body. “Maybe you should think about who you are while you wait for the ice to melt.”
Your attention is pulled away from the guard at the sound of a loud crash, and you barely manage to catch a glimpse of Gilak narrowly missing Zuko as he brings his whale tooth blade down into the table. Gasping, you quickly maneuver the water around your arms to form tentacles that wrap around the man’s torso and lift him into the air before slamming him back down again. The impact is forceful enough to disable him of his weapon, and Zuko quickly kicks it away from his grasp.
“Thank you,” he breathes out in relief, clearly overwhelmed from the sudden chaos. You don’t have time to reply as more of Gilak’s army begin to break through the windows and wreak havoc on the palace. You’re completely surrounded, and despite your best efforts to fight them off you can’t ignore the fact that you’re outnumbered. You briefly remember to thank the spirits for the fact that your mother is out visiting Kanna and Pakku and not here in the midst of the danger.
Gilak gets a hold of Hakoda while the rest of you are distracted fighting his warriors, and your friends are quick to rush out after him. You follow in suit only to hesitate when you realize someone must stay behind to guard Kue. You trust in your group’s ability to handle Gilak on their own, but you don’t exactly trust the King to take care of himself. Without anyone noticing, you slip back into the meeting room in search of the monarch.
“Your highness! Your highness, we have to get you out of here!” You call out while frantically scanning the room for him. The chamber is dead silent and questioningly empty considering it had just been teeming with invaders, and there isn’t a single sign of Kue.
You hear the crunching of glass behind you and quickly pivot your body towards the noise, and the sound is enough of a distraction for you to be ambushed by chi-blockers who quickly disarm you of your bending and let your body fall to the floor with a thud.
“Not so high and mighty now, are you, ‘Chief’?” One of them taunts before moving out of the way so another can scoop your limp figure off the ground.
“Where is King Kue?!” You demand as you your eyes look around the room in a panicked hunt for the man.
“Relax, that oaf is fine,” the girl brushes you off with a dismissive wave of her hands. “He’s hiding in a closet somewhere like the coward he is. Besides, it was never about him. We knew you’d be stupid enough to come back for him, and you took the bait.”
“What do you mean?” You say in disbelief as they begin to sneak you out through one of the hallways before your friends can notice.
“You’re the problem with this place, you’re the one who let the outsiders in. We need someone new in charge, but we can’t do that until we get rid of you and Hakoda first.”
Dread fills your stomach at her explanation, and you’re able to do nothing but hang limply over the man’s shoulder as they take you to their hideout. For the sake of the tribe you hope Hakoda and your friends are okay, and you hope they can find you before it’s too late.
Outside of the palace, Gilak and his men have vanished and Hakoda has been returned safely to his children. It seems the chaos is over until Zuko looks to his side and notices his Princess is nowhere to be seen. Panic immediately fills his gut as he rushes back into the palace and begins his feverish search for her.
“Y/n! My love, where are you?!” He calls out, and after finding no sign of you anywhere his worry begins to morph into anger. “No… No!”
“What’s wrong, Zuko?” Toph demands after hearing his enraged roars. The group looks to Zuko with concern in their gazes as he lets out a vengeful blast of flames from his mouth. The Fire Lord is seething, and there’s only one cause for his fury.
“They took y/n.”
~~~
You sit in an empty room tied to a chair with Gilak as your only form of company. For a long while neither of you speak, both of you locked into a staring contest as his eyes of contempt meet your own indignant ones.
“It didn’t have to be this way,” he finally says to break the silence, slowly beginning to circle around your chair like a shark. “I tried to get you to see things from our perspective, but you were just too stubborn. You didn’t want to see the danger in front of you, and even when Maliq disrespected you in front of the entire tribe you still went ahead and invited outsiders into the South.”
“What is so wrong about working with others?” You demand fruitlessly, unable to comprehend how he can be filled with so much hatred. “Not every outsider is bad, but you’re too full of resentment to see that! We’ve been able to accomplish great things because of the help of our sister tribe, and with the help of the Fire Nation-“
“The Fire Nation?!” Gilak bellows angrily, and you can’t help but to flinch in fear at his outburst. “They burned down our outer villages, desecrated our water benders, took our Chief from us! They are the reason we must rebuild in the first place! And yet you invite the Fire Lord onto our land simply because you let your love for him blind you of his true nature.”
“The Fire Nation did horrible things, yes. But Zuko is trying to right the wrongs of the past. There is good in his heart as there is in the hearts of other Fire Nation citizens. I’ve witnessed it firsthand. We cannot remain stuck in the past if we wish to build a future.”
“There is no future for the Southern Water Tribe with you and Hakoda in charge, and that’s why I’m taking matters into my own hands,” he says menacingly before signaling for two of his guards to remove you from the chair and bind your limbs together so you can be transported out of the tunnels.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’ve sent a letter to Hakoda asking him to meet me at the Bridge of No Return. He’s under the impression he’ll be trading his life for yours, but once he sets foot on that bridge and meets you in the center I’ll cut the line before either of you can make it safely across.”
“No…” you utter in disbelief, panic beginning to settle in your gut.
“The South will finally be rid of its problem, and then we can truly begin to strengthen our tribe.”
You’re able to say nothing more as a cloth is tied around your mouth to keep you from speaking. The last thing they want is for you to try and warn the others of their plan once you get to the bridge.
The guards carry you away, and you desperately try to come up with a plan of escape before it’s too late.
~~~
Zuko is anxious as he makes his way up the mountains. While fruitlessly searching endless tunnels hadn’t brought you back to him, receiving the letter from Gilak detailing your whereabouts didn’t exactly ease his nerves either. You were in danger, and if for some reason Sokka’s plan failed your life could be lost tonight. The thought almost sends him reeling, but he reminds himself to stay focused on the task at hand. He needs to be at his best if he plans to get you back safely- he promised your distraught mother he’d return you to her alive, and that’s what he planned to do.
“There she is!” Sokka exclaims as he points to your sullen figure across the way. Your arms are completely bound and a cloth is wrapped around your mouth to keep you quiet, and the sight has Zuko fuming. How dare they treat you so disrespectfully? He begins to rush forward only for Sokka to halt his efforts. “Hold on, buddy. I know you want her back safe but we can’t make any rash decisions or this plan won’t work.”
Zuko falters, huffing out a breath of smoke through his nose in protest before backing off. His eyes meet your desperate ones from across the way and his chest aches at the sight. He’d failed to protect you, and now you were a captive being used as bait for Gilak’s plan. He shouldn’t have left you behind, he shouldn’t have taken his eyes off of you, and he shouldn’t have let this happen.
You watch helplessly from across the way as Gilak sends his chi-blockers towards your friends and wince on their behalf as they receive the paralyzing blows. You let out a muffled cry of alarm as one by one they collapse to the ground, but you’re unable to do anything as the man gives you a harsh shove from behind.
“Get moving, Princess. Your time is up.”
You stumble forward onto the rickety bridge and take cautious steps in fear the wood falling out from beneath you. Hakoda meets you halfway before carefully pulling down the cloth from your mouth. Your features are frantic as you immediately utter jumbled pleas for him to leave.
“Hakoda, they’re going to cut the bridge! You have to get off,” you urge him desperately, tears welling in your eyes as you try to shove him back. The man rests his hands upon your shoulders to stop your movements before reaching down to remove your binds.
“I know,” he says softly as he gives you a reassuring smile before looking across the way. “I promise you we’re going to be okay.”
You follow his gaze to see Malina using her bending to stop Gilak from cutting the bridge. On the other side, your friends have risen from the ground and are busy taking out his army of soldiers. His plan has failed, and Hakoda quickly begins to usher you across the unstable structure.
The bridge begin to tremble as more weight is added onto it, and behind you Gilak angrily chases after you and Hakoda with a torch in hand. He doesn’t plan to give up so easily, so consumed by hatred that it’s made him crazed.
“I’m not letting either of you get away with this! You need to be punished for what you’ve done!” He roars angrily before charging at you both. “I’m going to take you down even if it means I have to go with you.”
“Are you mad?!” Hakoda cries before shoving you behind him to keep you out of Gilak’s reach. Another jolt shoots through the structure as Malina attempts to stop your attacker, but her efforts only cause him to involuntarily light the bridge aflame with his torch. As the two struggle for control over one another, Zuko dashes onto the bridge and uses his bending to put the fire before it can spread.
“Zuko!” You cry out in relief at the sight of him, only wanting his comfort after everything you’ve been through in the last twenty four hours. He meets your eyes and smiles in relief at the fact that you’re okay, but his features quickly morph into ones of dread as the burnt rope snaps and the bridge collapses. Your stomach drops as your feet lose contact with the ground beneath you, but the Fire Lord is quick to reach out and capture you by the wrist before you can fall.
“Hold on tight!” He tells you, making sure your hold on his forearm is secure before he propels the two of you upward using the streams of flames he releases from his feet. You land safely on the fresh snow below you, and you’re more than grateful to finally feel the ground beneath you again.
“Oh, Zuko!” You breathe out in relief before throwing yourself into his arms and holding him tight. His warmth soothes the chill in your bones from being so close to death, and he’s quick to return your embrace.
“I’m here,” he assures you as he carefully strokes your back. “I’ve got you.”
“Where’s King Kue?” You ask as you rapidly scan the area in search of the man. “Is he alright?”
“He’s fine, Pakku and your mother are looking after him. Are you okay?” He reiterates before pulling out of the hug to get a look at you. Indents have been left behind on your cheeks from the cloth that had been tightly wrapped around your head, and Zuko carefully looks you over for any other signs of hurt.
“I’m okay,” you promise him with a quick nod. “The chi-blocking wore off, I just feel tingly from being tied up is all.”
“They tied you up?!” Zuko exclaims angrily only to calm down when he sees the abashed look on your face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice. It just makes me so upset to think that someone would want to hurt you. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.”
“It’s not your fault, Zuko,” you correct him with a slight frown. “If it weren’t for you I would have fallen of that bridge.”
“Speaking of which,” Sokka interrupts urgently as he directs your attention to the collapsing structure, “it’s about to give! How are we gonna get them back up here!”
“I can go back down and get them,” Zuko insists only for Sokka to wave him off.
“Your weight would make it collapse before we could save anyone.”
“I’ll try to keep it stable!” Toph offers as she uses her earth bending to support the structure. “You guys are gonna have to work fast, I’m not sure how long this will hold.”
You watch as Katara and Aang spring into action to gather the others, and the Avatar is able to grab hold of them right as the bridge finally falls apart. He struggles to bring them up, and you watch anxiously as he flies his guider back towards the cliff top. Gilak isn’t making it an easy task he makes a last ditch attempt to lash at Hakoda, but the man only succeeds in losing his grip in the process and falling towards the bottom of the cliff.
“Gilak!” You cry out in horror, turning away so you don’t have to watch the man plummet to his death. Despite all he’s done, you’d never wish for death on anyone, and so you’re torn at the fact that this is how the conflict will end.
“There was nothing Aang could do,” Zuko says in an attempt to comfort you, but you’re not sure if it helps. Hakoda and Malina are brought to safety, and you’re left to deal with the aftermath of all that’s occurred.
“How did you all overcome the chi-blocking?” You ask as your mind begins to process all that’s occurred. You couldn’t compute how your friends hadn’t been susceptible to the blocks like you had.
“Metal armor!” Sokka explains proudly while showcasing you his invention. “It was my idea, but Toph made it a reality.”
“Sokka, you genius!” You laugh, throwing your arms around him in a hug full of gratitude for his help. “I can always count on you to figure out a solution to every problem.”
“Thank you, y/n, I am a genius.”
“Please don’t make his ego any bigger than it needs to be,” Katara teases before taking your hands in her own and giving them a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad you’re okay, and I’ve been thinking about what you said, about changing my perspective. I think you’re right.”
“I’m happy you see it that way,” you tell her with a careful smile before looking to her father and Malina. “And I think it’s time I did the same. If you both can come up with a revised proposal for an ecofriendly oil refinery that will benefit the South, I’d be happy to give it another look.”
“Thank you, Chief y/n,” Hakoda says gratefully, sharing an excited glance with Malina, “we appreciate your openness.”
“We need to get you back to the palace,” Zuko tells you while resting a careful hand on your back. “Your mother is probably worried sick waiting for you, and I promised I’d bring you home safely.”
“Spirits, you’re right,” your murmur fretfully before taking hold of his hand and quickly beginning your descent down the mountain.
“They’re good for each other, aren’t they?” Hakoda notes to your friends as he watches your figures disappear over the hill.
“They are,” Katara agrees with a faint smile, her mind beginning to imagine what your future will look like. The embassies will provide a good foundation for the relationship of the Water Tribe and Fire Nation, and the project will be a testament to what you and Zuko had proved long ago.
The fate of the nations are in good hands.
~~~
The South has settled back into its normal routine. With the death of Gilak and arrests of his army came the end of the protests, and reconstruction was able to resume without the threat of unrest or discontent among your people.
You stand inside the museum with Zuko by your side, your hands interlocked as you stare at the wall before you. You’re in the hall of royal families, an area full of photos and relics of all the people from the past and present. You’d ventured into the Princess exhibit and were now staring at your wanted poster hanging on the wall of your section. You’d swiped the scroll from a Fire Nation market place while in disguise with the Avatar and his friends, and you felt it was an important piece of history to include in your exhibit.
“That’s the prettiest wanted poster I’ve seen,” Zuko comments with a small smile. “It’s strange to think how much has changed since this poster was made.”
“The past is a strange place,” you agree quietly before looking to your boyfriend. “Now that the war is over, do you ever find yourself thinking about the future?”
“Always,” he says, a familiar spark in his eyes as he stares down at you.
“We’re living proof that a strong connection between nations is possible. We always have been, and yet it scares people like Gilak.”
“People like Gilak fear change,” he murmurs lowly, the mere mention of the main leaving a bad taste in his mouth. “They fear going against tradition, and we are far from being a traditional couple.”
“Yeah, but I like it that way,” you say with a smile before reaching up to press a tender kiss to his lips. Zuko’s hands find their place on your hips as he pulls you in close to savor the feeling.
With peace in the South having been reestablished, you now have a good feeling about what awaits you in the future. It’s going to be complicated, there’s no arguing that, but you’re willing to face whatever challenges arise if it means getting to be with the boy you love.
You and Zuko are the hope for the future of your nations, and if your relationship has been able to withstand all the difficulties and heartaches that have come over the years, then there’s no doubt in your mind that your people will be able to do the same.
Water and fire are opposing elements, and yet you both work so well together. You’re two halves of a whole, and no one will ever be able to break you apart again.
| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy
| fire lilies tags: @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @xapham @misnmatchedsox @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal @chilifrylizard2 @kyomihann @kaylove12 @kiwihoee @freggietale @moon-spirit-yue @bubblegum-bee-otch @cipheress-to-k-pop @potato87123
| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303
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agroteraa · 7 months ago
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I Wanna Be Your Dog
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Oliver Quick x f!Reader
My fic masterlist
Summary: Oliver's memories of one of the evenings at Oxford, where you began getting closer. And a night in Saltburn, where you try to be dominant with him.
Actaeon series spin-off, taking place between Artemis and The Wrath of the Stag.
Warnings: smut, dom!Reader, sub!Oliver, switching, oral, penetration sex.
Word Count: 2,8K
It was another spring party at Oxford. All the young people were chatting cheerfully with bottles and glasses in their hands in the slightly dim light of the dormitory's common room. Felix and Oliver were almost lying relaxed on the couch and had been silent for some time.
“Now, can you eenie, meenie India or Annabel, and take one fucking home? Because they look miserable,” Oliver suggested softly.
“Eenie, meenie, miny, moe. Catch a tiger by his toe. If he squeals, let him go. Er..." Felix seemingly forgot the text of the counting-out rhyme, but decided to finish it as soon as possible and make a choice anyway, "You're out, boy scout!"
The choice fell on Annabelle. He happily pecked Oliver on the cheek in gratitude, which made him grin widely. Oliver liked being praised. Especially by those who were important to him. Felix quickly jumped up from the sofa and, lightly slapping the contented girl on the ass, and went off with her upstairs.
“Well, what the fuck, mate? I’ve been chirpsing her for about an hour. I wanted at least a hand job...” the guy Annabelle left said in disappointment.
An hour. What did he know about waiting. How about almost a whole year, mate? Oliver smiled indulgently to himself. And anyway, how shallow that guy thoughts and desires were.
“I know. We all want a fucking handjob, mate. Get yourself a title and a massive fuck off castle.”
That where it was hard to argue. A title and a massive fuck off castle had never harmed anyone in life yet.
"Hey, here I am! And where is Felix?.." you were surprised when you returned from your dorm room and sat back down on the sofa, only this time next to Oliver alone.
"I don't know really," he shrugged, smiling, "I think he’s decided to go have some fun on his own."
"Hmm," you pursed your lips, not really surprised, but still, deep down, a little upset that Felix was acting like that again. You guessed where and why he might have gone, but decided not to focus on that thought right now. Besides, you'd already poured another bottle of your drink into yourself. There was some silence in the air. Before that, you had fun talking to the guys, mostly Felix, and you had never been alone with Oliver for long, especially at parties. You clenched your bottle tightly like a social lifebuoy.
Oliver was even beginning to interest you a little, just a little, but you still had no idea what and how to talk to him in private. He still seemed more like Felix's shadow. But at the same time, being face-to-face for at least a short time, you felt like you had to tell Oliver something meaningful, something deep... as if you should be giving away to him some of your secrets. You were vaguely disturbed by this feeling, as now you were just in the mood for small talk only.
"Um... so… how’s your study going?" you asked, not knowing where else to start a new separate conversation with him besides studying.
"Pretty well," he replied a little awkwardly, embarrassed by your close presence himself. Before that, Felix separated you on the couch, but now he wasn’t a bother anymore. Oliver definitely liked this intimacy, even though he was obviously not used to it yet. But one gets used to the fine things quickly. And Oliver was greedy for all the new truly fine things in his life.
"And yours?"
"Yeah, too," you took a small sip from the bottle, trying not to look him in the eye. At the same time, because you felt awkward and because these blue eyes have been looking at you so piercingly lately, as if they were drilling right into your soul. You couldn't tell if it was embarrassing for you, or if it was some other kind of excitement. Maybe both.
"And what about yours..." Oliver was interrupted by one of Felix's many friends, Chad, who plopped down on the arm of the sofa next to you.
"Hey, Y/N! I finally got to the party on your campus! How are you?"
"Oh, Chad! It's been a long time, it’s like you've disappeared somewhere. Have you really been studying so hard lately?" you both laughed loudly at this very bold assumption of yours. You continued to communicate, actively exchanging the latest news. Over time, you felt guilty a little. You turned to Oliver and smiled at him. He smiled back understandingly. His face visibly saddened when you turned back to the blond guy. He began to examine the empty bottom of his plastic cup, twirling it slightly in his hands. How should he get Y/N's attention? He didn't know. He had to come up with a plan. What would he do, what should he say, so that you…
"Hey, Oliver! Did you have any classes with Mr. Wharton?" you asked with interest, involving him in your conversation. He exhaled a little as he realized that you weren't leaving him in the middle of this party, where he felt like a stranger without Felix and you. You looked at him with a warm smile, and something inside him finally clicked and fell into place.
"Er, yeah... that oddball. He constantly comes up with fruit analogies for everything and even sometimes speaks on their behalf while holding them in hands."
"Ah, have you seen that too?! Y/N, I told you, he's an old weirdo! Only you are attending the wrong classes!" exclaimed Chad, and you all laughed merrily. The conversation was going well, and Oliver was incredibly happy about it. He didn't feel lonely anymore because of you.
But in return, some feelings that he had only vaguely suspected until this moment began to awaken inside him. You didn't stop drinking, and at some point, Chad put his arm around you and started lightly stroking your back. You giggled without giving it much thought, especially under the influence of alcohol. But Oliver saw perfectly well how Chad looked more and more into your eyes, lowering his gaze to your lips and lightly licking his own. It was very subtle, but Quick noticed it all. The way his hand keeps stroking your back, gripping you tighter and tighter. Oliver saw it all perfectly well, because he wanted to be in that place himself.
No, rather, he didn't really want to. He had long imagined your first kiss when you were fully conscious, willing and not under the influence of some alcohol, when you were too much mellow-minded. And he wouldn't let your kiss with Chad happen now, in this state, nor ever.
Sometimes it seemed you and him were very different. He could see through everything, and sometimes it was like you notice none of what you really should. How could you not understand that this Chad wanted to take you upstairs just like Felix did with Annabel?
You were kind and open, maybe even too friendly, oh, Y/N. Oliver was drawn to you like a moth to a fire. You were quite a complete and content person in your own right, and this was very attractive to the many-faced Oliver, who was still struggling to find a place in this life, especially here, in his first year at Oxford.
And it seems that he began to realize that he had found his place next to you. And he wanted to take this place like a guard dog, protecting it and you from all the adversity and guys like Chad.
You didn't forget about Oliver and wanted him to feel fine and less lonely, even hardly knowing him, even having so many friends and acquaintances here, even in the midst of fun of the party. You showed towards him attention and care.
Yeah, he would like to be your dog, he thought now.
Fortunately, you got up soon, freeing yourself from Chad's embrace and going to the bathroom. Great. Oliver had been carefully observing the situation in the common room all this time, so he immediately got up from the sofa and sauntered into the common kitchen, where India was smoking, still slightly displeased that Felix had not chosen her.
"How’s the party? " Oliver asked politely, grabbing a can of beer from the fridge.
India rolled her eyes, twirling a cigarette in her fingers, "What do you need?"
"Me? Nothing. But that guy has been looking at you half the evening without stopping," he nodded towards Chad and winked, "Just saying."
"Isn't he hanging out with Y/N?"
"No, he doesn't sleep with his buddy Felix's old friends. So, the way is clear."
"Oh, are they friends with Felix?" India narrowed her eyes. That was good, she needed some male attention right now, especially from those whom Catton Jr. might become jealous of. Thus, the girl went off towards her chance.
When you had returned to the common room, you saw Chad and India flirting with each other on the couch, and the girl did not let go of her hands off him. Okay. That was unexpected, but okay, it was a student party, after all. You shrugged your shoulders and started thinking about where you could sit now.
"Everyone seems to be having fun with each other tonight," Oliver, who happened to be next to you, shrugged sympathetically. Indeed, everyone around was busy with their own lively conversations, and someone was already far from just "talking".
"To singles?" he offered a playful toast, and you agreed with a grin, "Apparently so!"
"Cheers!" you clinked your drinks, continuing to talk a little more relaxed with each other. So, that how you started getting closer from that evening, and you began getting to know the real Oliver. At least that was what you thought at the time. He looked at you with a shy smile of a complete adoration as you were telling your stories full of joy and tipsy giggling. His eyes were shining like two starry sapphires at that moment.
If a guard dog wants to protect the peace of its owner and scare away other dogs, then it must inspire fear itself. Maybe sometimes not very intentionally, but instill just a little fear and sense of power even to its own master. Oliver wanted to be a good guard dog.
He would take this place next to you.
* * *
And he took it.
Now he was hovering over you, pinning you between his arms, leaning on your bed in your bedroom in Saltburn. It was the middle of the night, and finally not a single one inhabitant of this house could bother you right now.
Oliver thought all day about how he would continue his way with you at night, along the way remembering the evening of that party in Oxford, where you finally began to get closer. He looked down at you rapturously, biting his lip and breathing heavily, still not believing that all this was really happening. Not just right now, but in general, everything.
His blue eyes were gleaming with utter delight in the dim.
"What else does my sweet Y/N want?" Oliver asked you, recovering his breathing.
He bent lower, and a chain dangled from his neck, swaying slightly. The metal heated by the warmth of your bodies tickled your lips slightly. You lifted your head and gently but firmly catching the chain with your lips.
"Mm-hmm," Quick mumbled with curiosity. You smiled, gritting the chain with your teeth and began to shake it slightly from side to side. He opened his lips excitedly, inhaling sharply.
"Am I your doggie today? Oh, I'm more than willing to be, sweetheart," he said in his deep sexy accent.
He wanted to add "now and always," but didn't. Oliver was afraid that if he showed how willing he was to obey you, he would lose your interest. He was used to changing masks, adapting to different situations and someone's needs. He was an awkward and shy nerd when you first met, and that was largely true, because of his deep core nature and the new posh environment at Oxford. Fortunately, he had successfully joined Felix's company and was able to relax a little. And here in Saltburn, he almost felt like the master of the situation.
If you wished, he would always be that sweet, shy and awkward guy for you, if only you were truly happy about it. But he had learned that he interested and intrigued you mostly when he showed a more powerful, dominant and somewhat even dark part of himself. And that made him really pleased, because you viewed him the way he hoped to be in his own deep wildest dreams.
And yet, he still wanted to be your dog, an obedient dog who would do anything for you. In a sense, he was. And today he decided to demonstrate you that in more obvious way.
"What do you want me to do? I'm all yours," he leaned back next to you, belly up. Oliver smiled playfully. Right now, he was a tiger who had been caught by the toe with his own permission.
Biting your lip, you straddled him, sitting on his thighs. After enjoying this view, you ran your hand from his navel, sliding your fingers up the groove between his prominent muscles. Oliver exhaled sharply. You stopped at his neck, grabbed his chain, and pulled him to you. Now the guy was in a sitting position, he looked at you adoringly while his hands slid over your waist.
Without letting go of one hand from the chain, you slowly rose and began to descend on his cock. Oliver hissed with satisfaction, "Yes, my dear, just like that..."
"I didn't let you talk," you pulled the chain slightly, smiling slightly.
"Oh," he said in surprise, but gladly began to obey you, nodding in agreement.
You began to move slowly on his things, while Oliver's strong hands supported you with ease, guiding you, leaving hot prints on your skin.
His hands were all over you as his lips feverishly kissed everything they could reach. Finally, he reached for your lips, covering them with a hot kiss full of saliva, admiration and arousal.
When you broke the kiss, you said, a little hesitantly, but still firmly enough, "Take your hands off, next time you touch me when I tell you."
Oliver smiled enthusiastically – you learned quickly from his example, apparently. He liked the hint of his own power and dominance reflected on himself now through you.
He obeyed your request, although it was getting harder to fulfill it by every passing minute. He wanted to touch you again, guide your body and push it harder on his hard needy cock. It became unbearable after a while, and he whined a little. He looked at you a little pleadingly, but you nodded no.
He kissed your breasts again, but in response he got "Do not touch at all."
"Only I can now," with these words, you ruffled his hair and pressed harder against his shoulders. He groaned at the inability to touch you at all, it was a new sensation, or rather, its absence.
You grabbed his hair, and he put his head closer, burying it in your hand. It was the only chance to touch you in any way. Oliver closed his eyes and inhaled noisily through his nose. He didn't even mind if you squeezed his hair even harder, hell, maybe even poked his face into the sheet, where he would inhale the scent of your arousal. If you had forced him to lick it off, he would have willingly obeyed, as long as you continued to press his face to the bed, clutching his dark curls. He even imagined doing the same with the bathtub you were lying in lately. In his bathroom. This thought turned Oliver on even more.
Degrading him, talking him down, pulling his hair or chain harshly - he would not always like to be in this role, but he would like to give you that opportunity from time to time. If only you'd asked. And even if you hadn't asked. Because it was you. And because he was like that.
Reaching the peak almost at the same time, you dug your nails into his back deeply, which made Oliver's eyes darken slightly and starry at the same time. With a pleased moan, you released your grip and sank down onto the pillows. But that wasn't all of it, and you decided to play the role given to you to the very end.
Clutching his soft dark hair, you moved his head to your thighs. He looked back at you with hazy from own rapture eyes.
"Please," you said softly, still not being able to be dominant enough. But this sweetness and dissimilarity from his own, even in a situation where you could and should do it, but asking instead, drove Oliver crazy to his limit. He attacked you with a growl, delivering all the pleasure he could possibly give to you that night.
* * *
Oliver was lying with his arms around your lower back, his head resting on your stomach. Quick looked faithfully into your eyes. His face reflected the moonlight of the deep quiet night that was now in Saltburn.
You stroked and scratched him behind the ear, he rubbed his nose contentedly against your smooth belly skin.
"Is my mistress happy?"
"Yes," you laughed, starting to play softly with his hair.
"Then I am happy too," he said, closing his eyes and rubbing his cheek against your soft belly, "Now and always."
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krirebr · 13 days ago
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I Know I Should Know Better 7/End
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Pairing: Curtis Everett x Female Reader
Word Count: ~3.6k
Summary: Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it?
Warnings: Angst, adult themes, explicit language, anxiety, but mostly, it's a goddamn happy ending, you guys!! Finally!!! All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
A/N: Holy shit. I can't believe it. We've made it to the end of this series. Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who's been along on this ride. Your support of this story has really bowled me over. I so hope you love this ending as much as I do.
For this one, especially, any comment, reblog, or ask will mean so much to me. I can't wait to talk to you all about where we leave our sweet beans.
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Curtis stood on the front step of your house, waiting to be let in. He'd never gone in this way before, not even the first time. But he didn’t work for you anymore. He was the boyfriend now. A guest. So he'd play by the rules he'd always been so annoyed with Colin and Johnny and the like for flaunting. 
It only took a few minutes for Jensen to open the door. “Hey man,” he greeted warmly. “You know you don’t have to stand out here. Come on, get in.” Curtis followed Jake in, then stood somewhat awkwardly in the entryway. Luckily, Jake kept talking. “I should’ve texted you, but I was really sorry to hear how that whole thing went down. It wasn’t fair to either of you.”
“Thanks, Jake,” Curtis said sincerely. “I appreciate it. And I’m sorry, for all the secrecy.”
Jake shook his head. “No, don’t be sorry. You didn’t owe me any of that.”
Curtis gave a slight nod. “I hope you at least got a promotion out of it.”
Jake ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, kind of. Although I’m sort of pulling double duty right now while we try to find a new driver. But I think the trip went well, so…” he trailed off and shrugged. “You found something, yet?”
Curtis just shook his head. Honestly, he’d barely started looking for his next job. He’d been tired of personal security for a while now, and this seemed like a good opportunity to see what was next. Figure out what he actually wanted. Growing up in foster care, he’d been too aware of how easily things could be taken away, so as soon as he’d started making money, saving had been a priority for him. He had a decent rainy day fund set aside now. He figured he might as well make use of it. And if he got to a point where he needed to pick up a short-term gig here or there, he was sure, with all of his connections now, that he’d be able to do that. “No,” he said, “I think I’m gonna take my time.”
“Nice,” Jake nodded. “Good for you. Well, if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know. I always liked working with you.”
That got a genuine smile out of Curtis. “Thanks, Jake, you too.” He glanced around your house anxiously. He thought he heard Michelle in the living room, but he didn’t know who else might be here, occupying your time. “Everybody still busy with her?”
“No, the stylist and makeup artists left a couple of minutes ago. I think she’s just getting dressed now, in her room. You should be good.”
Curtis nodded, patted Jake on the shoulder, and made his way through your house.
Two weeks apart. They’d been filled with constant texting, evening phone calls, as much checking in as he could manage in your busy schedule. Hearing about your appearances, junket days, meet and greets. You were finally back, as of that morning, but he still had to steal time for your reunion before the last of your late-night talk show appearances. Your schedule never stopped.
He took the stairs up to your bedroom two at a time and gave a light knock once he got to your door. It immediately swung open to reveal you standing right in front of him in your underwear. He barely had a moment to process before you were throwing yourself at him, filling his arms with you, burying your face in his neck. “I’m so happy you’re here,” you breathed.
“Yeah,” he whispered, holding you as tight as he could. “Me too. Me too.” He shuffled you further into the room so he could kick the door shut behind him and then stood there with you in his arms for as long as you both needed.
You finally pulled away and he took his chance to look around. A rolling rack of clothing your stylist must have brought over was against one wall. Two outfits were laid out on the bed. Your suitcase was flung open in the far corner of the room, items spilling out of it. And then he took you in. Your hair and makeup were already done, but if he looked very closely, he could see the barest hint of bags under your eyes. Your smile was a little sad and you were picking at your nails, seemingly without realizing it. “How are you doing?” he asked, softly.
“I’m alright. I’m– I don’t know. I’m really tired, but,” you looked around yourself, “I’m happy to be home.”
He nodded. The exhaustion was radiating off of you. You’d told him in one of your late-night phone conversations that you’d barely slept on your trip. He wished he could wrap you up and tuck you into bed right now. “Were you able to sleep on the plane at all?”
You shook your head. “No, there’s just been,” you shrugged again, “too much to think about.”
He opened his mouth to ask what was on your mind, but you were already turning away. You went to the foot of your bed and stared at the outfits laid out there. 
“Which do you think?” you asked, your hands on your hips.
He looked at the two outfits. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was looking for. He didn’t feel like he really knew clothes well enough to offer any sort of an opinion. One was a dress, low-cut and mid-length, maybe. The other was a pair of shiny black pants, although not leather, and a billowy metallic tank. Each outfit had a corresponding pair of sky-high heels sitting at the foot of the bed. “What are you gonna be most comfortable in?” he finally asked. 
You sighed ruefully. “Yeah, I'm sure jeans and a t-shirt would go over real well.” After a moment of thought, you picked up the pants and blouse and started putting them on. 
You were both quiet as you put on the finishing touches. He helped you with the necklace and bracelets, his big hands carefully opening and closing the clasps.
You stepped away and turned to him. “What do you think?” you asked, a touch of shyness in your voice. 
He closed the space between you and put his hands on your hips. “You’re beautiful,” he said, sincerely. 
You just looked at him for a moment, studying his face for something, he didn’t know what. Finally, you asked, “You really do love me, don't you?” with just a touch of awe in your voice.
“Yes,” he said without a moment of hesitation, trying to infuse that one word with all of his certainty. 
He'd only told you he loved you a few times, since that first time, not wanting to overwhelm or pressure you. He knew he'd jumped ahead. You hadn't said it back yet which was fine. He understood. You'd get there when you were ready. But even if he was trying to go at your pace, he never wanted you to doubt him.
You kissed him unabashedly at that and it did something to settle the worry he'd felt since he laid eyes on you. You pulled back and grinned, the first real smile he'd seen from you since before you left for New York. “I'm gonna get yelled at for messing up my lipstick, but I don't care,” you said, before going in for another, shorter one. He gripped your hips tighter as you pulled your head away, giving him a knowing smirk. “Come on, I’m sure I’m already running late.”
He didn’t let go. Something about this time, just the two of you, felt too precious. “I don’t work for you anymore. I’m the boyfriend now, so I don’t fucking care if you’re late.”
You laughed, big and loud, and it quieted the rest of the unease he’d been feeling about how you were doing. When you were done, you leaned into his chest and just stood there. “I missed you so much,” you whispered.
“I missed you too,” he whispered back wrapping his arms around you. He took a deep breath, savoring the fact that you were there, in front of him, in his arms. Right now, he had you.
And then, of course, there was an impatient knock on the door. “I'll be right there!” you called out, then knocked your forehead against his shoulder, taking a deep fortifying breath. 
“Hey,” he said quietly, “you're so good at this. No matter what, this is something you can do. I've always admired the way you handle this stuff. OK? You can do this.”
You sighed and nodded into his shoulder. He was quiet for a moment, thinking. You’d talked, a little, about how upset you’d both gotten the night before you’d left for New York. He couldn’t help but feel that maybe in his frustration and desperation and worry, he’d come on too strong. He knew you weren’t upset with him, but– “I just want you to be happy. No matter what that looks like, I just want to help you get there.”
You moved your head from where it was tucked into his shoulder so you could look him in the eye. “I know,” you said, gratefulness shining in your eyes. “If I know anything, I know that.” You kissed him again, short and soft and sweet. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
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It was an odd experience, climbing into the back of your SUV instead of sitting with Jake in the front. Michelle sat in the middle row, acting pointedly cold to him. That was fine, honestly. He wasn’t quite ready to forgive her for the things she’d said when the news of your relationship broke. He didn’t know when he would be. You deserved better.
You were very quiet. He wanted to ask, again, about what was on your mind, but he didn’t want to do that with an audience. So he held your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, and didn’t move a muscle when you rested your head on his shoulder.
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Curtis couldn’t stop fidgeting. He was sitting by himself on what he used to derisively think of as the boyfriend couch. Michelle was on the other couch, focused on emails as always, while Tanya hovered in the middle of the room. There were snacks and drinks laid out on the green room’s coffee table that he was welcome to now, but he hadn’t touched them. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, filling up the big TV on the wall as you chatted with one of the countless late-night Jimmy’s. You looked okay. A little stiff. A little tired. But that was probably only because he knew all the signs to look for.  
You’d covered all the benign greetings and small talk and were now getting into the meat of the interview. Whichever Jimmy this was reached across his desk and held up a black paperboard-backed picture of you, twelve or thirteen years old, complete with braces and awkward pigtails. It was from that fucking show. 
He saw the anxiety flash across your face, quickly followed by your cheerful mask, although he didn't think he imagined the way it was more strained than usual. Tanya saw it too, judging by the way she took a step forward. 
Jimmy was blathering on about the recent influx of TV reunions and reboots and wouldn’t it be fun, wouldn't everyone just love it if there was some sort of reunion for this? The audience roared in agreement. 
You forced a chuckle that wouldn't have fooled anyone, pure panic in your eyes. And then you looked directly into the camera and Curtis knew, he knew, that you were looking at him. He tried to send you all of his confidence, all of his support, all of his love. All of his certainty that however you wanted to handle this, you could do it.
He was fooling himself, he knew, but he was sure that you felt it, because in the next moment you took a deep breath, turned to Jimmy, and said, “No, I don't think so.”
Jimmy just gaped at you for a second, clearly taken aback by you suddenly not playing along. He tried to cover with a good-natured laugh and “What? Oh no! Why not?”
You didn't match his tone. You responded seriously, “I really hated making that show.” There were a few audible gasps from the audience, but you ignored them. “Everyone did. It was a miserable place to be. Everyone hated each other. Everyone fought all the time. For seven years! I was a child and no one protected me from that. I went to work every day, as a child, in the most toxic environment. But I was making money. So I guess it was ok.
“And now, god, it’s been ten years! And everyone just keeps bringing it up. It’s all anyone wants to talk to me about. And I just can’t talk about it anymore. I really can’t. I’m not gonna do it again. I’m done with that.”
“What the hell is she doing?” Tanya muttered next to Curtis, who was standing up now, unable to take his eyes off you. Whatever you were doing, it was incredible.
He could tell that the host wanted to break in, he kept looking wildly off-camera to someone for help, but you just kept talking. You wouldn’t stop.
“There’s just– There’s so much I don’t want to do anymore. I’m not doing ok, you know? I mean, you must know. It’s all over every gossip site. I’m not ok. I haven’t been ok for a very long time, maybe ever. But I just keep going forward in the same way, because that’s all I’ve ever done since I was a kid. That’s all I’ve known how to do. But I think– I think I’m done doing that now. I want to figure out how to be ok.”
Curtis took a step closer to the screen. “Holy shit,” he mumbled, deep pride filling his chest, “she’s doing it.” 
“What is she doing, Curtis?” Tanya asked, somewhat hysterically.
He ignored her. He couldn’t see or hear anything other than you. 
Back on the TV, Jimmy cleared his throat and opened his mouth, trying to somehow stop his show from careening wildly off the rails. But you put your hand up to stop him. 
“Please, Jimmy, I know. You asked a simple question and you got all this instead,” you laughed, unabashed, and there it was. There you were. Curtis beamed at seeing it. “Just let me say this one last thing.” You looked directly into the camera again. “I– I am really proud of this movie. We worked really hard on it, and I hope you go see it.” 
A laugh escaped Curtis. God, you were so good at this, knowing exactly what you were contractually obligated to do. He glanced quickly at the other end of the green room. Michelle was standing now too, her mouth wide open in shock, while Tanya looked like she might have a stroke.
“And I think–” you continued. ”I think it might be the last movie I do for a while. The last anything. We'll see.”
A wave of murmurs went through the studio audience. Curtis had fully forgotten they were even there during all this, they’d been so quiet since you’d really gotten going, just as enraptured by you as he was.
“Ok,” you said, with a sheepish smile. “That’s it. I’m– I’m done.” Then you stood, took off your mic pack, gently laid it on the chair, and walked off stage.
As Jimmy awkwardly threw to a commercial break, Curtis raced into the hallway. He walked towards the stage as fast as he could, intercepting you about halfway there, a lost-looking PA trailing behind you. You looked a little shell-shocked but good. You looked so fucking good. 
He gently touched your face with both hands as soon as you were within reach. “Holy shit, that was incredible. You’re incredible. I can't believe you did that. I'm so fucking proud of you.”
“Yeah?” you asked, your voice a little shaky, your eyes a little watery. “I didn't– I wasn't planning to. But then he asked about the show and, I don’t know. I’ve been thinking a lot about all of the things you're always telling me. About living my own life and what I'm worth. And I just thought, ‘What if I actually do what I want for once?’ And, yeah.” You shrugged.
“Fucking incredible,” Curtis whispered and leaned in to kiss you. It was soft and a little desperate and so, so happy. 
So of course it was cut short when Tanya called out your name. You both turned around to look at her standing at the end of the hall, looking harried. “What was that?! How on earth am I supposed to clean that up?!”
“Tanya,” you said, your voice shockingly calm and firm. “Stop. There's nothing to clean up. You're fired.”
It took everything inside of Curtis not to whoop with joy or pick you up and spin you around. But, shit, he wanted to. He really, really wanted to.
Your gaze moved to where Michelle stood behind Tanya. “Sorry, Michelle,” you said with a frown, “you too. I don't think I'll need a team or an assistant for a while.”
“You need to stop and think about this,” Tanya said, her tone placating. 
“I already have. Thank you both, sincerely, for everything you've done for me, but it's time to try something new.” And then you grabbed Curtis’s hand and led him back down the hall. 
You quietly got your things from the green room and changed your shoes, then brought Curtis outside through a side door, far away from where fans were gathered, expecting you to run into your SUV.
You took a deep breath as soon as you hit the fresh air. “I kind of just want to walk around for a while. That ok?”
“Yeah, whatever you want,” he said softly, squeezing your hand. There were a few hours before the show aired on the East Coast. A few hours, hopefully, before the bomb you’d just set fully exploded. A walk sounded nice.
 You headed away from the studio and Curtis was content to follow your lead. You didn't say anything, which was fine. He figured you had a lot to process. 
After several minutes, you let out a long, deep breath. “Holy shit. I can't believe I just did that. Holy shit, Curtis, I just quit!”
“How are you feeling?” he asked, carefully, wanting to make sure you weren't wracked with regret.
You took your time answering. Then finally, “So relieved. Just so fucking relieved.”
He stopped you from walking, using his grip on your hand to turn you to face him. “I hope you understand just how incredibly proud of you I am. How brave I think you are.”
“Curtis,” you said quietly, ducking your head, clearly overwhelmed. 
“I mean it,” he said as he squeezed your hand and started walking again. 
After several more minutes of companionable silence, you slowed down a little. “So, where do you think we should go?”
He shrugged and glanced around the area. “I don’t know. I could eat. Think you can get away with ducking into a burger place?”
You laughed and he stopped short at how nervous you sounded. “No, that’s not– I didn’t mean–” You shook your head and he turned so he was fully facing you. “I don’t know, it’s just– You said a year, remember? Back on my couch, you said I should take a year.” You were avoiding his eyes now, and you sounded so shy.
Your couch. That night, however many months ago. When you’d let him really see behind the mask, and he brushed his fingers against yours for the first time. As he realized what you were trying to ask him, the weight of it, the enormity of what you were offering, all he was able to do was whisper, “I remember.”
“Ok, well, I thought that maybe we could do that. Take a break. Go somewhere maybe, if there was somewhere you wanted to go.”
It took him a minute, as he was flooded with so many things—how much he loved you, how much he wanted to do for you, give to you, how happy he was in this moment—but once he found his voice, he gently grasped your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Wherever you are,” he said, with the most conviction he thought he had ever said anything. He leaned in and kissed you. It was short and more chaste than he wanted, but he was too conscious of how out in the open you were. He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours. “Absolutely anywhere you are.”
You threw your arms around him and moved your head so your lips were right next to his ear. And then you said, so so softly, so that it was just for him, “I love you. I'm so in love with you.”
A warmth he didn’t think he’d ever felt before filled his whole chest. All he could do was just hold you, right there, in the middle of the sidewalk, murmuring in your ear just how much he loved you, too.
Eventually, you’d start walking again. You’d find a little restaurant to duck into for a bite to eat. He’d make you put your phone on speaker as you told Lloyd and Wilford they were fired. And you’d figure out what came next, where you would go, what the logistics of quitting actually entailed. Then you’d get an Uber home and show each other with your bodies just how much you cared. 
But for now, he just wanted to hold you in the middle of the sidewalk.
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I love you all. Thank you so much for reading. 💜
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thekingofwinterblog · 4 months ago
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Man I wish your MHA prediction came true, cause, no spoilers, but the truth is so bad😂
atleast its finallly over... never reading a series when it hasnt finished serialisation again😂
It's not even a BAD manga ending... i have seen BAD manga endings before, i know how they look like.
No, what MHA's final chapter is, is a NOTHING Ending. An ending where it is so, PAINFULLY obvious that the Mangaka or his editor did not want to piss anyone off, or take risks in general, that for a whole host of characters, there is NO closure, or even worse, it negates what came before.
so, its not like there is nothing good about the chapter, as i like shoji's big declaration, and the fact that japans society is changing to help people deal with the quirks withouth having to become heroes... but other than that, even the stuff i liked had major caveats.
But by far the biggest issue is that there are so many characters who got NO closure for their respective relationships, and it is stupidly obvious why, and who.
and since this question was prompted by Aizawa and his development, lets start with mic and Aizawa.
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This picture right here encapsulates how Aizawa has changed. This is where he was always planned to end up. It is his natural end point compared to where he started off his story. Having turned into a much more caring man, who helped Aoyama rise above his flaws and change for the better rather than the brutal and spartan teacher he was at the start.
Or as his Ex Girlfriend would have put it has learned the value of "A household where the laughter never ends.".
However, the problem is we get no chapter, or even an ATTEMPT at giving him any form of closure where this change is encapsulated, the way we got with Endeavor, spinner, and Uraraka.
And thats a problem, because it wasnt ONLY hjis character who was tied to this hypotetical chapter for closure.
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The closure of the ENTIRE idiot trio from the previous generation, alive and dead was dependent upon whatever Hori had planned for this hypotetical epilogue chapter before he or his editor chickened out, leaving Kurogiri's death in the climax with NO sense of aftermath behind it, coming and going, and frankly feeling like an aftertought rather than the sad ending to the tragic tale of the man who died too soon.
It also leaves Mic the single worst off, because while Aizawa at the very least had his character development to fall back on as a final point, even if he didnt get a closure chapter or moment, Mic gets NOTHING.
and that's a big problem, because as im going to go over in my big analysis of the man, Mic's entire deal is that while Aizawa developed in a terrible, negative reaction to his buddy's death, Mic's reaction was to stop developing at all.
His entire life after the tragedy is being a background character in everyone else's life, the DJ who always tries to make everyones day brighter, but has no actual ambitions, dreams or goals of his own.
thats why he clings so desperately to his memories of highschool, because unlike everyone else from that time, those memories are all he has. Even Aizawa managed to have a girlfriend at some point, an actual relationship, that though it crashed and burned had meaning. Mic doesnt even have that.
He is the ultimate sad clown, who pretends to himself that he hasnt wasted his life, by embracing a role as a literal supporting character, that his teachers suggested he would turn out to be.
In other words, his role in a chapter dealing with the epilogue of the trio, would certainly have been to finally, actually begin living his own life again.
but withouth that, there is nothing to suggest he managed to change. he will just continue to waste his life, thinking he'll never be able to create great new times for himself, rather than actually living his life and making new, best moments of his life.
i might be more annoyed about Aizawa not getting that final closure with Miss Joke, but there is no questions that Mic got an even worse deal with the narrative than Aizawa.
He remained a background character to the very end.
he's not the only one though.
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You know who else never got closure? The Iida brothers.
We NEVER got to see how Tensei reacted to his brother not only taking up his mantle, but actually surpassing him and all his deeds during the climax.
Tenya's great ambition was to become a great hero to live up to his brother, and we didnt get to see any of his family members reaction to him actually achieving this dream.
As for other members of class 1-A...
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Hey, quick question for anyone who read this story, Did you think Mina and Kirishima's character stories ended with these two, small, not given very much importance panels?
No?
Well fuck you, youre wrong! this is where both of their characters ends. their relationship, and their character arcs in general ended here, and they get no closure whatsoever.
and finally we move unto Izuku and the bigger problem with him and where he ended up.
Starting with him becoming a non powered hero, using tech.
Okay, not a BAD ending... But i feel like... maybe... there was a plan for something with that. Maybe... Maybe something that happened, and would have eased his character into using tech, rather than All Might just showing up with it after he's been a salary man for 3 years... Maybe something that was foreshadowed for years, and years.... Oh right.
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Izuku losing his lower arms.
Like, looking back, it is painfully clear that Izuku was originally meant to lose his arms for good, before the editor(as he did with bakugo's death) put the kibash on that.
I like the idea... but there was a much better and more logical road to him becoming Iron Man with him having to use robotic hands in the epilogue. it would also be the logical outcome of all that foreshadowing, and was probably the original idea before it was deemed too gruesome.
However, thats a missed what if.
And if you have read the final chapter, you know it's not the BIG issue with this chapter. The SINGLE biggest problem with this ending, that is going to haunt it forever afterwards.
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The complete sinking of Izuku x ochako by making it clear izuku has no regular contact with his former classmates, and ending the story withouth anything to suggest these two hooked up at all.
Now, im going to be very blunt, and very clear, before i tear this entire ship sinking to bits.
I didn't like Izuku x ochako.
At all.
I thought it was boring, too drawn out, and i didnt find much enjoyment as a ship from their interactions. in fact i would say i found izuku to have better chemistry with pretty much every other female character he ever interacted with.
Izuocha is the epitomy of a safe shonen battle couple. pure, boring vanilla.
I want to get that out of the way, before i really delve into why the way Hori just... torpedoed this ship because he didnt want to deal with the aftermath, was such a slap in the face.
Lets start with the most obvious problem.
It was all a waste of time.
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every single moment of shiptease, and uraraka pining after izuku...
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was one...
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gigiantic...
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Waste of fucking time.
I didnt like reading about this couple. But i cannot make the claim the story was not building up towards it.
it spent the vast majority of it's story building towards this couple, and in the last 3 chapters it devoted two of them to seemingly resolving this couple's story, and setting up for the next step... that never fucking came.
meaning that every little bit of ship tease these two had was a joke, a waste of time, it didnt mean anything in the grand scheme of things.
It was one of the most annoying parts of this manga to read through, and to my absolute fury and disguist i was fucking -vindicated.
It was an objective, waste of fucking time that could have been devoted to ANYTHING ELSE! It could have been devoted to another, better pairing, more character development for 1-A, Inko, the league of Villains, ANYTHING!
If the story was not going to end up with these two, there were plenty of ways to do that too, like having Uraraka's decision not to confess backfire as izuku moved on and hooked up with Mei, or melissa, or anyone else! or maybe just have izuku have moved past her an her ending up being friendzoned because she didnt make a move early enough! Or maybe have Uraraka realize she was gay after everything with Toga!
Again, ANYTHING ELSE would have been preferable.
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instead, even at the very end, even when the following pages kills the pairing dead, Hori STILL tries to shipbait these two!
fuck off.
2. Making Urarak look shallow through the worst fucking timing in the world.
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so, here is a question for you.
if you were going to ultimately choose not to go through with izuku x ochako, when would be the worst, possible timing to do it?
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because i sure cant think of any point worse, than during a timeskip, where izuku's quirk ultimately went away, leaving him powerless and a common working man for 3 years afterwards.
Now this is obviously not meant to be the actual reason in universe for why this pairing didnt happen... but the implication is there...
And it wouldnt have been, if Hori had actually had Izuku turn her down in one of the previous chapters.
but because he decided to chicken out of any and all romance to not get any shipper blowback, through the safest way possible, it's there.
It's ugly, and it's cruel, and it's mostly implication... but it is there.
3. It makes Uraraka's entire character growth with Toga WASTED.
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So Toga's part of her and Uraraka's storyline is obvious.
The girl who was looking for someone, anyone who would want to understand her finally found somebody who would, and she decided to give it all for that person.
in uraraka, she finally got what she could not get in the league, amongst her old friends, or anyone else.
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No the problem is not with that side of their shared development.
The problem with this is that it completely wastes Uraraka's side of this equation.
The thing that Uraraka envied about Toga, was her ability to smile as she wanted, uncaring about how the world might think of her, something the shy uraraka deeply wished she could do too.
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Ultimately, as presented in the final war arc, her develoment from this relationship was her finally learning to be honest, to embrace doing what she wanted to do.
She wanted to reach out a genuine hand in compassion to Toga despite EVERYTHING, and so she did. uncaring about what the world might have thought.
FInally she could be who she wanted to be. the girl who had been defined so long about keeping her love and more emberassing feelings under wrap no longer cared about being judged for them.
It's a very beautiful moment.
Man... It sure would SUCK if later uraraka completely backtracked, was never able to tell her crush her actual feelings, and instead it went absolutely nowhere, meaning she reverted back to the same person she had always been. that she never really grew past this flaw of herself she disliked.
That would really, really suck, and cheapen her entire character climax from the final war arc.
Man, that would suck.
It would suck even more, if the reason that happened, was due to the author not wanting to piss off the shippers that shipped the target of her affection with his former abuser and bully who tried to get him to kill himself.
This was a terrible way to end the series, not due to directly sucking, the way Attack on Titan, or bleach's endings did... but instead due to committing SO HARD to resolving NOTHING, that it flipped all the way around to being INFURIATING in how much it REFUSED to give ANY character who's final resolution would probably have involved shipping, that its pisses you off, because it means that everything that these characters were building towards had no resolution.
The only real exception was Iida, and in his case its just obviously clear that Hori just did not care to give him a climax. for everyone else though?
Hori's decision to not wanting to go through what Kishimoto went through after Naruto's final chapter might be understandable, but it also means that his already rocky final arc ended wastly lesser in quality than it could have.
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marloree · 6 months ago
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   Your lovely guitarist
Pairing: Guitarist! Student! Beomgyu x Reader
Genre: university au, series
Word count: 0.87 k
Summary: you're studying at university and living your mundane life, that is, until you meet Beomgyu. What will it lead to? Only time can tell.
Part 1!    The beginning
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You never considered moving as easy, especially to the city you knew almost nothing of.
"New city, new life, new page", they say.
You agreed with the statement, to some degree at least.
Of course you were happy to get into the university of your dreams. Just how much happy you were. One wouldn't lie saying you were over the moon.
But..there are always numerous buts, right?
To begin with, you were quite introverted. Not that you had no friends, but it was difficult for you to get into new groups. "A way to open up, not as bad as it sounds", you thought, reassuring yourself.
Moreover, you never left your hometown before and knew absolute nothing about the city you were moving in.
Obviously you tried to get to know the city better, but were you good at navigating? Absolutely not.
But we always imagine things scarier than they are in reality, right?
Dorms were decent, the professors friendly, the students quite approachable. You even managed to befriend a few people during the first week. Life definitely didn't seem to be as difficult as you thought it would be at first.
Of course adjusting to the new environment wasn't easy, but it was still decent.
And you really enjoyed the classes. No matter how hard the work was, your eyes shined like diamonds every time you thought of how your life turned to be: studying in your dream university, getting the job you've been passionate about since...how long already? You couldn't have been more lucky, seriously.
Not to mention the newly found friends you've been together from morning 'till night. Let alone them being genuinely nice people, which you really appreciated, they shared your hobbies, your passion. You felt like you've got to experience the so called "y/n life", life of your dreams. Seriously, it felt just as surreal as a dream.
But, you weren't just lucky, you've worked your butt off to live like this. And you had no plans on stopping anytime soon.
No, of course you weren't the typical "good girl" or a "nerd", but you had a goal you aimed to.
You just lived your own life the way you thought to be the right one.
Never having too much friends, you enjoyed the company of a few close friends that surrounded you. Now, with new faces around you, you still kept your usual life style.
You were content with how things are in your private life and had no wish to change that, for now. "School, friends, studies, hobbies" now changed to "uni, friends, studies, hobbies".
"A partner" or "a boyfriend" never appeared in that list. It's not like you were too interested in dating, at least currently. Developing small crushes from time to time, you never got into anything serious. Guys in your school weren't the best ones, anyway.
It was like this and, perhaps, might have stayed just this way if not for Beomgyu, literally the perfect guy that took the same course as you.
You couldn't deny his great physique, but his knowledge was no joke, either.
Matching brains with good looks, the guy sent your heart in heaven.
At first, you didn't even try getting closer to him. He seemed to always hang out with his group of friends, just as you did with yours. The coming up semester exams and a dozen of homework you had to do every night didn't add up to your enthusiasm of getting with your love interest, either.
Your life flew by just the same, only a little flutter of your heart everytime you crossed your ways with Beomgyu reminding you of the crush you had on him.
A month passed like this, and the night before your semester exams arrived.
It was almost midnight when you finished rereading your notes for the millionth time, thinking of finally going to sleep. When, suddenly, you heard noises coming from one of the dorms. Once you opened your window to see what was going on, you could clearly hear someone play the guitar.
"Just the perfect time to do that, eh?" you thought, wondering whether the person was so sure about their academics or simply decided not to study at all.
As curiosity got the better of you, you tried to see where the melody was coming from.
Oh how surprised you got once you realized that it was, in fact, Beomgyu's dorm that the guitar play was heard from.
"Really? Never thought he also knows how to play the guitar", the thought popped in your head, leaving you wonder just how many other skills the guy has.
While thinking of that, you suddenly heard him play a familiar song. Too familiar even, it was one of your favourites.
"So we even share similar music taste, huh.." you thought, the idea of actually trying to at least get acquaintanced with Beomgyu popping up in your brain for the first time.
He wasn't bad at all, somewhat reminding you the image of your ideal type even.
With that thought, you closed the window, sliding down onto your bed and soon drifting off to sleep, accompanied by quiet chords of Beomgyu's play as a lullaby.
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