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shorkbrian · 4 years ago

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I’ve noticed a shortage of yan! Shoto :0 Whilst Kiri is my absolute fave, Todoroki needs some love too! Could I request some Yan! Shoto being absolutely touch starved and obsessed with a sweet, loving, motherly and smol reader? (it can be nsfw if you so wish!) Thank you!! (Btw, I love reading your stories, it’s a blessing in my day, even just looking at your shitposts/memes. And if you ever want to talk, jus say so. I hope you have a good day!! 🥺💞) - Sugar Anon 🧚‍♀️

Sugar anon! That is such a cute identifier and I hope to see you in my asks again!! Hopefully this is along the lines of what you were thinking!!!

It’s a very good concept btw cause like mhm him getting completely overwhelmed and overstimulated during diddly times cause he’s never had anyone be intimate with him.

Like moaning and his cheeks are flushed and oh

(Y/N) is a new doctor at Shouto’s agency in charge of patching him up between missions and basically being his doctor. Shouto likes her gentle hands and soft touches, lets himself get a bit more scraped up then he would normally. He’s just so touch starved and she’s so motherly and its such an intimate setting and he’s never had feelings like this before and he doesn’t know what to do.

Has yandere tendencies but tries to squash them down or hide them, tries to be normal.

One day gets hit with an aphrodisiac quirk, stumbles into her office and she’s immediately worried, once she figures out what’s up she tries to get out, lock him in there until someone stronger than he can come escort him home but he grabs her before she can get to the door.

He’s crying cause he’s so horny it hurts (he’s never been this aroused in his LIFE) and he wanted everything to be perfect and he wanted to woo her but now he’s forcing himself on her and he can’t stop his hips from moving and he’s confessing all the bad things he’s done while he’s known her and she’s absolutely horrified, traumatized.

Warnings - NSFW, noncon, very hard noncon. Aphrodisiacs (spelling?) and a low-key weird comment about Shouto’s mommy-issues at the end. Dude is so twisted and sad and touch starved.

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“Todoroki-san, I have had to patch you up six different times in two days.”

Shouto cocked his head, staring at you with his bi-colored eyes, studying your face as you tended to the wound on his shoulder. The lilt to your voice suggested you were teasing, making small talk to distract the man as you swiped a disinfectant pad over the cut. You knew what you would be expected to do when you applied for this job, knew that heros were often injured.

He had overseen the hiring process himself, his last doctor had left the agency for a job in a different country. Shouto held no hard feelings for the doctor, knew that as a hero he often got himself into trouble, needed a lot of attention and care. Not everyone could be expected to spend so much time with him, attending to his health - even if he was paying them a more-than adequate salary.

Most of the candidates had bored him when they came in for their scheduled interviews. Too many of them were looking at this position as a way to launch them into a nice comfortable position in a prestigious hospital. They seemed… uninterested, or too interested, some of the candidates invading his space when they came for a handshake, babbling about how much of a fan they were.

You weren’t like that. There was a professional distance when you shook his hand, smiling at him pleasantly as you introduced himself. Then you sat down, waited for him and his team to begin asking you questions. Shouto couldn’t keep his eyes from straying to your hands, letting himself wonder whether those hands would be the right ones for the job. You looked so delicate, at least to him, a pro-hero.

But he already liked you better than any of the other candidates.

So you were hired, on the condition that you would be on a trial period for the first two months, with halved pay. It was still far above minimum wage, but Shouto was weary of hiring seemingly-normal employees only for them to turn out to just be trying to get to know him, whatever their reasons. The trial period was for his own sanity.

Currently he was sitting in your office, perched on the edge of the exam table tucked into the corner. Today he had managed to escape his most recent fight with only a few mild scrapes and bruises, but as his doctor, you needed to make sure he was okay, clean his wounds and patch him up before letting him go home for the day. It wouldn’t do anybody any good if one of the top pro heros collapsed on the job because of a lack of medical care.

Your office was stocked with everything a doctor of your caliber could possibly need. Your “office” was really a mock hospital room, in a medium sized room located at the back of the agency. Having you on site meant that Shouto never had to bother with trips to the hospital, being swarmed by fans when he wasn’t feeling good or having someone who didn’t understand the capabilities of his quirk try to treat him.

It also meant he could relax, know that he was being taken care of. With you being so new, Shouto still had his guard up, ready for any-and-everything. So far you had been nothing but gentle.

You had hardly talked to him, other than the expected “This might sting” or “Deep breath in”. You warned him before you touched him, but otherwise were very quiet, working diligently and professionally. Shouto enjoyed it honestly, being able to step away from the buzz and hubbub of his agency and into his doctor’s office, where it was quiet and calm and peaceful.

Being with his mother had felt like this. Felt safe and refreshing and like a secret haven tucked away from the rest of the world.

Clicking you tongue, you gave the pro hero a thumbs up as you stepped back. “Alright, you’re good to go! Please be safe on your way home Todoroki-san.” Shouto nodded, a stiff smile passing his lips as he rose to his feet. You were a good doctor, always took the best care of him.

“You as well Y/N.”

——

The next visit to your office revealed that you had added a few personal touches.

A cheesy poster on the wall, directly across from the exam table, a single plant on your desk, A bowl of mini lollipops on the shelf by the door.

Cute.

Today was a short visit, just a quick once-over to make sure there weren’t any cuts or wounds that he hadn’t felt, the normal questions any quirks used against him during the day. Shouto found himself wishing the visit had been longer as you gave him the all-clear, moving away from the exam table so he could stand up. Before he walked out the door, you stopped him, silently handed him a lollipop. He took it, noticing how soft your hand felt against his as he withdrew.

Shouto didn’t like sweets, but he didn’t mind accepting a lollipop from you. He could just offer it to his secretary when he passed her desk, no biggie. It was easier to do that than hurt your feelings by refusing.

Well, he knew it probably wouldn’t hurt your feelings. He just liked seeing the little twinkle in your eye when he accepted it. He assumed the lollipops were a gag, something usually given to small children for being brave at their checkups.

He wasn’t your only patient, much as he would’ve liked. His agency had several other up-and-coming heroes, and several sidekicks, and you tended to all of them. Shouto liked to think that you saved the majority of your tenderness for him.

One time he had come in while you were setting one of the sidekick’s shoulders. You had asked him to sit down in your office chair, to give you a minute so you could finish up with his coworker. Shouto had done exactly that, watching as your soft hands gripped the sidekick hard, fingers digging in.

“One, two, three.” You gave a countdown, forcefully jerking the shoulder back in place on “three”. The sidekick groaned at the pain, head shaking as if to clear his head from the intense sensation. You went over to your lollipop bowl, ignoring Shouto as he sat in your chair, returning to the sidekick to give him the sugary treat.

The sidekick sucked on the lollipop while you bandaged his arm into a sling, immobilizing it so it could heal. When you were done, you sent him on his way with a soft smile, before turning to Shouto.

“Todoroki-san, thank you for waiting. How are you feeling today?”

Todoroki moved to the exam table when you motioned for him, immediately stripping off one of the boots of his hero costume.

“Hello (Y/N), it’s good to see you. I’m feeling good, got nicked by a spike during a fight today. Luckily it hit my ankle, and it’s not very painful.”

“Mm, let’s have a look.”

You kneeled down, giving him a small warning before pulling his foot towards you, examining the tiny cut gracing his ankle. Shouto paused, closing his eyes as he relaxed at your touch. He didn’t remember the last time he felt this at-ease with another human. He didn’t know what it was about you; maybe your gentle, soft demeanor? Perhaps it was your kind touch, how you never pressed too hard and always respecting his personal space.

Even as your fingers prodded at the cut, feeling the bone underneath, Shouto felt relaxed, content. He liked being around you, being with you. Even if the two of you hardly conversed. Maybe he could change that?

“(Y/N), how have you been finding working here?”

You looked up at him, bright eyes warm and kind. Shouto felt his chest tighten. “Oh, it’s very nice Todoroki-san! I hope I’m doing a good job attending to everyone.” With a smile, you returned to his ankle, producing an alcohol wipe from seemingly nowhere.

Shouto nodded, hands gripping the edge of the exam table. “I certainly appreciate your service. You have very tender hands.” Just like his mom. When he was younger, before his scare… Shouto remembered the care his mother would give to a scraped knee or a bump on his head. The soft touch, the kindness, the gentle hands - Shouto didn’t want to insult you by comparing you to his mother, so he stayed silent.

With a start, the man realized you were beaming up at him, wrapping a bandage around his ankle. He smiled back, felt his cheeks flush a little. What was this?

“Thank you! I know how important my patient is to the world.”

Ah, yes, his job.

His job that he should probably getting back to.

Reluctantly, Shouto accepted the usual lollipop from your hands, wishing you would linger so he could feel the brush of your skin against his own.

Was he developing feelings for you?

——

It was a startling idea. Shouto never thought himself the type to have /feelings/ for someone else. When he thought of his future, it never involved another person. He didn’t want a family, didn’t want the opportunity to make the same mistakes as his father.

But as he gave the idea more thought, Shouto realized that he was feeling… something towards you. It was different to what he felt for Izuku, for Bakugou and Kirishima. He didn’t crave their touch like he did yours. Had physical contact always had such an appeal?

His last doctor had touched him, it was necessary of course to patch up his various wounds from fights. But somehow it wasn’t the same as when you touched him.

Shouto spent each exam studying you, your features, the way you moved, how you almost skipped over to the lollipop bowl to retrieve him one at the end of the exam. He felt drawn to you, wanted to touch your hair, hold onto your hand when you handed him the lollipop. Would you touch him if he asked? A hug maybe?

In his penthouse, Shouto mulled over his feelings, his wants and needs and how you fit in. Would it be prudent for him to start a relationship at this point in his life? Would you even consider him as a partner? No, probably not. You were much too professional, wouldn’t even think of starting a relationship with your boss.

Maybe he could fire you.

No, no, Shouto couldn’t do that, it would make you hate him. Plus, he wouldn’t be able to see you as often. And Shouto was quickly becoming of the opinion that he wouldn’t mind seeing you more often than he did now.

He wanted more from you. He didn’t know what he wanted, but… maybe he could learn.

——

If you noticed how frequently Shouto seemed to be visiting you, compared to his usual once-daily check up, you didn’t say anything.

Tabloids were beginning to comment on how eager the pro hero seemed to engage in hand-to-hand with villains. His usual strategy involved using his quirk, only getting his hands dirty if absolutely necessary. But now? He was constantly looking to get hit, kicked, clawed, wounded.

He had to come see you after every over-dramatic scrap with a villain. You didn’t seem to notice, nor mind seeing his face pop around the door 3-4 times a day, sheepishly asking if you could patch up a new cut, check out a new bruise, make sure his nose wasn’t broken.

Shouto could feel himself falling, further and further into the rigid embrace of love, or at least, his version of it. Did other people experience attraction this vividly?

He had come to terms with the fact that he was attracted to you, not just your body but your mind, your personality, your very existence. He wanted to stay in your office, lingering after every visit and awkwardly attempting small talk just so you would interact with him, just so he could be with you a little longer.

In the privacy of his own apartment, Shouto found himself researching on his laptop. “How to get the girl” “Ways to let her know you like her” “What does love feel like”. He felt so juvenile, but the man was genuinely at a loss for how to deal with his feelings for you. Telling you outright wouldn’t be appropriate. You would never enter a relationship with your boss, Shouto knew this, you were too good of an employee. Flirting was not his forte, and was completely out of the question.

So he stuck to what he knew how to do - keep his mouth shut and watch. You never turned him away from your office, never showed irritation when he showed up, never gave any sign that you were becoming tired of his presence. Shouto took this as an invitation, a sign that maybe, just maybe, you had feelings for him too. He found himself bringing his lunch down to your office, asking if he could eat there, just to get away from everyone for a little bit. You always let him, nonchalantly scrolling through your phone as you ate during your lunch break.

Shouto was a bit embarrassed of himself when he pulled your file from the employee records. If anyone asked why, he would just tell them that he was considering giving you a raise, but wasn’t sure. That’s a valid reason to bring out an employee’s file, right? He just wanted to know where you live, if it was far from the agency. The man couldn’t stomach the thought of you, gentle, little (Y/N) having to walk home alone at night, or take the train with all the creeps that could be there.

When he came upon your address, Shouto made a note to ask if you’d like him to drive you home. It was at least a thirty minute drive, he didn’t want to think about how you usually got home. What if something happened to his doctor? When he broached the subject, Shouto thought he did pretty well at acting nonchalant.

“The weather’s getting colder, isn’t it?”

You nodded, wrapping gauze around a nasty gash on his calf.

“I feel bad for anyone who has to walk during the evenings.” He stated.

“Aw, it’s not that bad in my opinion.” You took the bait “I walk home from the train station every night and the weather isn’t awful. It’ll probably get nasty as winter comes though.”

“You have to take the metro to get home? Where do you live.” As if he didn’t know. But you’d recoil if he offered just yet, probably be weirded out that he knew your address.

“Yeah, I live over in the Shikuyu district. It’s a really pretty walk in the fall though, all those trees turning different colors.”

Shouto wrung his hands, taking a deep breath. “Let me drive you home tonight, there’s been some criminal activity going down over there and it’s not one of my sectors. I need my doctor safe.”

You tried to protest, and Shouto let you, but ultimately pulled the boss card, insisting that he needed to take care of his employees, especially one that he bothered so much.

“You never bother me Todoroki-san.” You laughed, dropping a lollipop into Shouto’s lap.

Shouto kept his face from souring, missing the usual contact of your gentle, silky-soft hands as you handed the treat to him. But it was fine, he would get more time with you. In his car, just the two of you, outside of work.

Then he registered what you said, and his head snapped up, eyes wide and roving over you as you turned away, cleaning up the exam table and messy supplies.

It was all the confirmation he needed.

——

After the first time Shouto drove you home, you refused to let him go out of his way to help you out. Still, he was your boss and he could insist that you at least call an uber, or a cab. He didn’t feel comfortable sending his little doctor off onto the train every night after work. Shouto even upped your pay so you could afford it easier, saying there was no reason to be unsafe.

It was hard for him to know if he was being too suffocating. He didn’t want for you to regret your statement about him never bothering you.

So he had his agency install new security cameras.

One was placed in your office, where there hadn’t been one before. You weren’t too pressed when Shouto asked you what you thought of the upgrades, said you could see the sense in making sure the building was safe, especially the doctor’s office, where the heroes would be at their most vulnerable.

Shouto agreed - he was always at his most vulnerable when he was around you.

But now he could stop letting his body take a beating in order to see you. He could sit in his office, busy himself with paperwork and have the security feed from your office pulled up on his laptop. Half the time Shouto got distracted, abandoning the paperwork in order to watch you work, treating sidekicks and heroes-in-training and anyone else the agency had hired.

He tried to ignore the bitter pang of jealousy that reared it’s head.

Shouto knew jealousy, knew anger and negative emotions very well. His childhood had been littered with nothing but bad memories and negative moments. The only time he felt at peace was when he was curled in his mom’s lap, the woman running slender fingers through his bi-colored hair. Sometimes, when he was still very small, she would have the time to read him a story before bedtime.

She was such an amazing woman.

Shouto saw her in you.

The way you tended to him so gently, delicately treating his wounds. How you carded through his hair, just like his mom used to, when you were checking for head wounds. The way your lovely hands pressed against his back when you felt to see if a rib was cracked, rubbing each rib slow and soft, pressing. It was just like how his mom would rub his back.

The man swore your touch was addictive. He wanted more and more and more and he didn’t have a clue as how to get it. Shouto had to be satisfied with fleeting brushes when he moved before you were ready, accidentally jostling you against his body. Or telling you (lying) that his body was hurting, sore, it didn’t quite feel right. You would do your best to check for any injuries, asking where it hurt (usually his torso “hurt”) and then skimming your hands very carefully over the skin there.

Shouto imagined how nice it would be to fall asleep with your hands on him. He wasn’t stupid. He was getting too attached, too invested, was practically stalking your at this point. He shouldn’t be doing this, lying to you, watching you. But he didn’t know what else to do.

Guilt was beginning to take root in his mind.

One day he knew he would have to tell you, confess his feelings and deal with the outcome. You would accept him, hopefully. Shouto felt afraid for what he would do if you didn’t.

——

Shouto felt hot, disoriented, thirsty. He was pretty sure he was in your office, had gotten hit with a villains quirk during a fight. Apparently it had knocked him out, as he didn’t remember even coming into the agency.

Muffled voices could be heard past the closed door, and Shouto winced at the noise, at the light, at the feelings of his clothes against his skin. Everything felt too much. He stumbled off the exam table, yup, your office, and moved towards the light switch, stripping off his shirt as he did so.

The voices outside were still making noise, but with the light off Shouto felt a little better. His remaining clothes were still bothering him. His head felt fuzzy. His boots came off, followed by his pants. He wanted to take off his boxers, but his rational mind supplied how bad of an idea that would be. What if you came in?

At the thought of his little doctor, Shouto’s stomach jolted in arousal. Confused, the man peered down, surprised to find himself completely hard in his boxer briefs. He knew he considered you very attractive, but it usually took a fair bit of stimulus before he found himself aroused.

Shouto gulped as he climbed back onto the exam table, immediately curling onto his side towards the wall. He was practically panting with the heat of the room, sweating and drooling. Wait, drooling?

The door opened.

“Todoroki-san, I have bad news.”

Your voice was so sweet, like warm honey. Shouto shivered when he heard it, his cock twitching between his legs. He wanted to turn to you, stand up, pull you close. But he… he shouldn’t.

“You got hit by an aphrodisiac quirk. It’s going to take a bit to leave your system, and will probably be uncomfortable until then. I’m going to leave some supplies in case you would like to use them, but I will be taking my leave after getting you settled. The rest of your team and I have decided it’s safer for you to remain in this room than attempt to move you back home. We will be locking the door so no one can come in.”

And you can’t get out.

You didn’t have to say it,. Shouto heard you shuffling around the room behind him, he was so hot, sweat was beading all over his body.

“(Y/N), Why am I so warm?” Shouto groaned out, trembling. It felt like he was sick but with… arousal.

Objects were set down on your desk, before Shouto heard you step towards him.

“The quirk is going to make your libido hyperactive for the next twelve hours or so. It’s very likely that you will be aroused and craving stimulation.”

You sounded so clinical, so robotic, none of the usual warmth in your tone when you talked to Shouto. He wanted to whine, cry that you weren’t treating him the way you usually did. And when he needed your help too! His rational brain was telling him that you were trying to be professional, give your mostly-naked boss privacy.

HIs rational brain told him to stay still, wait until you left the room to grab whatever you had left for him on the desk. It was entirely possible that he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back from grabbing your hands if he turned. He wanted to feel your hands on him, running over his torso, rubbing his back, cupping his cheek. He wanted your touch, so, so bad.

Shouto decided it was time for his rational brain to shut up.

When he turned over, sitting up, you looked like a deer caught in the headlights, already halfway to the door.

“(Y/N)” Shouto rasped, rising to his feet unsteadily. The arousal pooling in his gut was overwhelming - he couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so hard. His penis was so rigid that it hurt, throbbing in his boxers.

You took a step back, eyes trained firmly on Shouto’s face, determined to not let them stray below the belt.

Shouto didn’t know what was happening, couldn’t rationalize any of it. The man wasn’t even in control of himself, feeling as if some demon from hell had invaded his body, taken his dirty thoughts and insisted that he act upon them right now.

The pro hero didn’t even know when he had grabbed you, but then he was pressing you up against his body and it felt so good that the man whimpered. A low, needy sound, softer than the spluttering and shocked noises tumbling from your mouth as you pushed against your boss, trapped in his grip.

“Todoroki-san! Please let go! The quirk-!”

Shouto didn’t listen, didn’t want to. He started grinding his hips against yours, breathing hard through his nose at the pleasure roaring into his veins at the simple contact, his dick pressing into your stomach.

It wasn’t enough though, he needed more.

Shouto dragged you to the exam table, manhandled you up against the flat surface and bent you over despite your struggling, the shouts of “No! Stop!”. Should he stop? Probably. But he wanted this. Had ever since he realized that he loved you, although it hadn’t been this intense before. With one quick movement, Shouto pulled off your scrubs, discarding your underwear in the same movement. He wasn’t concerned about foreplay - he needed, he needed all of you right now.

But the man couldn’t resist falling to his knees behind you, hands moving their iron grip from your palms to your thighs. His fingertip dug into your flesh, dimpling up your skin as he leaned forward, your pussy exposed oh so prettily for him.

Shouto didn’t know if you were screaming or crying or begging for more. He was too focused on the juicy flesh in front of him, leaning forward quickly to greedily slurp at the pink slit. He felt you jump, try to straighten your back but he let his hold on his quirk weaken, simultaneously heating and freezing each thigh held in his grasp.

You quickly resumed the position he had put you in.

The pro hero couldn’t get enough, licking and sucking with fervent desperation at your folds, no rhythm or technique whatsoever. He couldn’t think, not with his face buried between your legs, your thighs shaking in his hold, your sweet little cries (“Todoroki-san /please/! Stop!”) filling the air.

It could have been seconds, or minutes, Shouto had no concept of what was happening, only that you were the best fucking thing he had ever tasted in his life, and he needed everything you had to give him. He couldn’t stop himself from trying to burying his face closer, trying to spread your thighs further and further so he could reach deeper into your puffy pussy.

Your cum gushed onto his tongue, and the man slurped it up, reveling in the stick, wet sensation.

He couldn’t ignore his dick any longer.

Letting go of your thighs, Shouto stood, pushing his boxer briefs down his legs as fast as he could, desperate to sheath himself inside your cunt. He could barely breathe, was so aroused he was light-headed with need.

With his boxers off, the man pressed close to you again, lifting one of your legs to brace it on the table, forcing you to go on tiptoe. When the head of his dick met your folds, Shouto felt his cock jump, the strange sensation making butterflies rise in his stomach.

“Mmhm, (Y/N) I don’t know-I don’t know what’s happening.” Shouto confessed, one hand on your hip, the other guiding his thick cock into your pussy. “You just-oh, you look so good, always - always do. I need to feel - need to feel you so bad.”

He could feel your body trembling, and it briefly crossed his mind that you were probably crying. But his arousal slammed into him like a truck the moment he let his hips twitch forward, sliding his length into your wet pussy. “Oh god, oh-oh god, oh!”

Shouto came, crying into your neck, saliva dripping from his mouth and onto your heated flesh.

To his surprise, his dick was still hard, and the arousal was still pushing, urging, needy.

“(Y/N), I don’t - I’m so sorry.” Shouto stuttered, pulling back just to have his hips plunge forward again. You were so warm, so wet from your own orgasm and from his cum sliding inside you. It was heaven.

Shouto had never touched, nor been touched this much in his entire life. He didn’t know what to do, how to feel; it felt like his brain was on fire, and with each desperate snap of his hips, he was throwing on more and more gasoline. He had longer stamina this time, pounding you into the edge of the table for what felt like forever until his hips stuttered, his legs shaking as he orgasmed inside you.

When Shouto felt himself steady, he was horrified to find himself /still/ aroused. “I’m sorry (Y/N), This isn’t - I didn’t want to do it like this.” He was crying as he rutted against you, tears dripping hot onto your back. “I’ve been trying to be perfect, plan - plan dates, a relationship, anything, as long as it’s you.”

The man buried his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling raggedly. “It can only ever be you.”

His clarity was returning, each orgasm making him feel less and less feverish. At this point, his cock hurt, and he was too sensitive, but still, his hips wouldn’t stop.

“I was going - going to ask if we could go out.” A lie, but it felt like the right thing to say. You were definitely crying underneath him, Shouto would be lower than trash if he didn’t try to comfort you. You didn’t need to know that the pro hero would rather have made you his home-doctor than ask you out. That way you’d be at his house, waiting for him, just like a pretty little wife, like a mother.

“I love you… think I always have.”

It felt good for Shouto to admit it out loud.

#yandere #yandere oneshot #todoroki shouto #yandere shouto #aphrodisiac #uh oh #Shouto lies #Shouto #bnha shouto #shouto x reader #shouto x y/n #yandere todoroki

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itsclydebitches · 3 years ago

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There's something really strange about how certain parts of the RWBY react so negatively to criticism of the show. There is a complete denial of the criticism, especially if its in good faith, for reasons only tangentially related to the critique. For example, the Youtuber hbomberguy made a really good faith critique of RWBY and I saw fans utterly dismissing it because he says he was a life long fan of Monty's work and they found screenshots from 2008 where he said he didn't like Monty. (1/2)

Yeah, outside of that primary point — that disliking an author/the author's work more generally doesn't automatically invalidate critique; there might be bias at play, yes, but it's not a foregone conclusion — there are a lot of complications there. One that I've actually been thinking about lately is this idea that opinions are not allowed to change over the course of our relationship with a text. There's this assumption that if you said you didn't like Monty in 2008 (whatever "didn't like Monty" even means in that instance — the person? The authorial persona? His company? Some works? All his works?) then you'd better either dislike his work the exact same amount now, or love it without question. No developing new or complicated opinions across twelve-odd years allowed. Which becomes the core of the, "Why are you watching if you hate it?" question that is constantly leveled at those who post critique. "Hate it" is an incredibly narrow approach to not at all easy to define feelings about a show and "hate" means something very different for every fan. For many, the knee-jerk response is simply, "I don't hate it. If I truly hated it I wouldn't still be watching." It's ouroboros eating its own tail: if you hate RWBY you shouldn't watch RWBY, but we watch it, so we must not hate it. Now what? The conversation often stalls when someone refuses to acknowledge that there's more to interacting with a text than the two neat boxes "I love it completely" and "I hate it completely."

But I'm getting off base here. The point is that changing opinions crops up a lot when discussing the critical side of the fandom, with some assuming that if you're critical now then you've always been critical and you're nothing but critical. The idea that you once loved RWBY and are now negotiating a different kind of interest in it, or that you're frustrated by the show while also enjoying other aspects is, it seems, not on the table. It's presented as that either/or situation: you like it, or you don't, and if you've got any gripes with the story, the author(s), or the company at any point... then you're in the "don't" category.

But beyond all that, I also mean that opinions aren't allowed to change in the sense of fans not acknowledging that online spaces are a kind of Wild West where opinions as a whole are incredibly malleable. To use myself as an example, I've posted A LOT of stuff about RWBY. That means I've said a lot of stuff and given how humans work... a lot of that stuff contradicts! Sometimes it's for easily explainable reasons — I got a new piece of information and changed my tune accordingly, a new Volume warmed me to a character or topic that I wasn't previously interested in, etc. — but other times it's just... a mess. Because our relationships with texts can be a mess. I've got posts where I'm criticizing Sun when talking about RWBY. I've got posts where I'm defending Sun when talking about Before the Dawn. I've got posts where I'm 100% backing Ozpin's choices. I've got posts where I acknowledge he really fucked up. I've got posts where I gush about how much I love Ruby's optimistic outlook. I've got posts where I express how much I can't stand her naive outlook. This stuff isn't static and it's certainly not neat and tidy. Not only do our opinions about texts and their creators often change over time, they don't always change across a set number of years for easy consumption by an outside observer. Sometimes your opinion changes daily. Hourly. Sometimes that occurs through conversations followers never see, posts that are later deleted, nothing but your own thoughts because we're not posting every hour of every day. And then you're back saying Thing #1 again because it's all just messy, repetitive conversation expressed via quickly written tweets and the like as an informal hobby. No one is double-checking our work here, demanding to know if we really, truly back what we're saying 100% because someone might one day drag it back out into the light and try to hold you accountable for it. Presenting any one, quickly expressed opinion from over a decade ago as some sort of 'gotcha' is in far more bad faith, imo, than the critique that's getting dismissed.

All of which is, of course, far from just a RWBY issue. We see this kind of behavior everywhere online, where past opinions, mistakes, or just casual responses are dredged up with the intention of erasing any and all present credibility. Pay no attention to what the person is saying now, instead form your opinion of them solely by what they said years ago, with no possible wiggle room allowed. Fans dismissing RWBY critique? That's fine. No one needs to engage with criticism of a favorite show — if anything, I highly encourage those who dislike critique to steer clear of it — so as frustrating as it can be on our end, it's the cleaner side of a very ugly coin. If the worst our community ever did was go, "Your critique is invalid because you said once in 2008 that you don't like Monty's stuff" and left it at that... said community would be a far kinder, gentler, safer place. As it stands, that urge to go digging for a 'gotcha' post generally leads to full-blown harassment (which, frankly, I'm sure hbomberguy got anyway). It is weird that fans are so eager to use an old screenshot to "disprove" a two and a half hour video... I just wish that's as far as that kind of behavior ever went.

#rwde #rwby #mymetas

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satendou · 4 years ago

Text

⟼ use your words

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: yaku morisuke/reader

⇢ au: college

⇢ summary: all you have to do is ask

⇥ masterlist

⇥ requests are open! | rules

⇢ warnings: established relationship, daddy kink, smut, praising, begging

⇢ word count: 3.4k

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: so this is my first delve into actual daddy kink and i still didn’t go as hard as i could have just bc of the tone i had in mind for the story. i’m honestly not sure how i feel about this one but maybe it’s better than i think. as usual thank you to @keijiskitten for reading this over for me. she has to put up with my aggressive refusal to use the word “that” or adverbs.

i’m so sorry, i forgot to put a read more. i’ll fix it when i get up tomorrow.

“God, it feels like it’s been ages since we’ve been able to relax, doesn’t it?” you asked Yaku as you stretched out over the arm of the couch. You groaned in relief when your spine popped, your toes curling with pleasure at the sweet stretch and the easing of pressure on your back. Honestly, you weren’t even sure how long it had been since the two of you had done anything as simple as watch TV together.

You and Yaku were coming and going with work, classes, and practice so frequently that syncing up your schedules was a nightmare. It was a relief that you were living together, and that you could wake up in his arms every morning.

He hummed in response, scrolling through his phone. He could feel you squirming around with your calves across his thighs, his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. Pausing for a moment, he glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

Your shirt was riding up your stomach with your stretch, revealing a sliver of your bare skin, and the length of the soft shorts you wore meant they rode up as well. Suddenly, he was glad to be wearing sweatpants.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, clicking the like button on one of Bokuto’s pictures. It was a professional one, taken at a game, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he saw it on a promotional poster or something soon. “I’ve missed you, babe.”

You were a little disappointed by his lackluster interest in you and the movie that the two of you had picked out to watch. There had been offers to go out with some of the others, and you wondered if he would rather have done that than stayed in.

Before you really realized what you were doing, you were tugging your legs from his lap and trying to sit up, but his hand wrapped around your ankle, keeping you captive. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Your mouth went dry at the playful, dangerous tone of his voice, even though his eyes never left his phone screen. He probably hadn’t meant it the way your brain took it, but your mind went there anyway. It had been a week or more since the two of you had had sex, or even really done anything more than peck each other on the lips as you left in the morning or went to bed, so you couldn’t really be blamed.

Unfortunately, he still wasn’t paying you any attention, and you huffed petulantly. His grip was too strong for you to escape and you were forced to relax. When you did, he started rubbing your leg, from your ankle to the middle of your shin and back again. Biting your lip, you slid a little closer, wondering when in the hell you had gotten so shy about it.

Then again, he was all but ignoring you when it was supposed to be sort of a date night so, again, couldn’t be blamed.

He repressed a smirk when your chest pressed against his arm, arms wrapping around his and resting your chin on his shoulder, and continued to peruse his feed. He wasn’t even paying attention to what was on his screen at this point, only waiting to see what you would do. His hand paused on your thigh just above your knee.

A moment passed and you made no other move, your erratic heartbeat against his arm the only thing belying your true feelings. He started up small circles with his thumb, still just slowly scrolling. He knew what he’d done-- used that tone on you to purposely rile you up a little, but he hadn’t expected it to work so easily. It was hard not to laugh at you; you were just so easy to read.

It was silent for several minutes and he would have thought you weren’t going to push it any further, except that every time his hand slid even a centimeter up or down your bare thigh, he noticed that you would tense up. A little intake of air would reach his ears, and you would squirm against him just the slightest bit, making him bite his cheek in amusement.

The movie and his phone were both wholly uninteresting when Yaku had you to tease, squeezing your tender thighs and sliding so close to where you needed him, subtly trying to break you. It seemed like you were enjoying yourself if the way you squeezed his arm was any indication. At the very least, you seemed to know that he was teasing you, because there was no way you couldn’t feel his erection against your calf.

It took a lot longer than he thought it would for you to adjust, sliding your legs off of his and swinging over so you were straddling him. His hand landed on your knee as he glanced up at you, waiting. You were biting at your lip, fingers curled in the front of his shirt, crotch resting right above the tent in his sweats.

Quieter than he expected, you ask, “Hey, um, Mori?”

You sounded so shy that he didn’t tease, instead setting his phone down on the couch face down and giving you his full attention. He hadn’t realized just how insecure he had made you feel, even if you had known that he was just teasing, and a part of him felt a bit bad. “What is it, babe?”

You didn’t answer, instead leaning forward to hide your face in his neck. It put you right up against him, and he could feel the tension in your body when he wrapped his arms around you, revealing the stress you were feeling. It couldn’t be far off from what he was feeling; the separation and time away made him miss you terribly, and the only thing he ever looked forward to was coming home and crawling into bed with you.

“Could we, um, you know…” you said at last, speaking into his collar bone, and he suppressed a shiver at the ghost of your lips on his skin. If you really thought he was unaffected by you, or that he was more interested in his phone than he was in you, you were sorely mistaken.

But he wasn’t about to let up. You needed to voice what you wanted before he would give in.

“Hm? Could we…?” he prompted, petting your hair. Knowing you as well as he did, he could practically feel you slipping, your body trembling against his and it was taking all his restraint not to push you over the edge himself. Nuzzling your cheek, he kissed you, letting his other hand slide up and down your back, comforting you. When you still didn’t answer, he asked, “What is it? You’ll have to use your words, pretty girl.”

There’s a sharp intake of air and you pull back, cheeks bright red and a glimmer in your eye. It had been a good long while since he’d seen that look and it sent a thrill through him, of both happiness and arousal. There had been so much going on and no time to unwind and let yourselves have a moment that he was glad to see that need back. And glad to feel the need himself. It was torture wanting to be with you but being too tired to follow through.

Letting himself slip just a little, he captured your lips, lapping at your bottom lip and you let him in on a shaky breath, his tongue invading your mouth. His fingers slipped down to grip your ass, squeezing tight and you moaned quietly against his lips, breaking him from his trance.

When he pulled back, your lips were shiny and wet, swollen and parted. You were almost panting while he remained unaffected, a coy smile playing at the corners of his lips.

When he wouldn’t let you kiss him again, you whined in the back of your throat, a word unintentionally spilling out and he knew he had you.

“Daddy.”

Fuck*, he thought, shivering with the surge of lust that pulsed through him. He loved the sound of your voice, soft and needy and whiny and begging him to do what only he could for you. It had been too long since he’d heard it, but he reigned himself in to play. It wouldn’t do if he broke so soon.

“What is it, princess? You still haven’t told daddy what you want,” he said, so soft and sweet as he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. He let his hands run up your thighs, right up to the hem of your shorts and his thumbs slid under, caressing the edge of your panties. Your hips jerked and his hold tightened while he tutted. “Uh, uh. You have to use your words to get what you want.”

“You’re so mean, daddy,” you whined. “I want you.”

He chuckled at that and you pouted, knowing he wasn't going to let it go at that. And you were right when he asked, “You want me to what? Tuck you into bed? Make you something to eat?”

“I want you to fuck me, please,” you begged, and he hummed in understanding, faking a surprised look.

“Oh. Well, why didn’t you just say so, pretty girl? Of course I'll do that for you. Let’s go to the bedroom, hm?” He posed it as a question, but you knew full well it wasn’t and he hoisted you up in his arms.

You squealed playfully in his ear, wrapping your arms around his neck and locking your legs around his hips, causing him to laugh with you.

“You’re so strong, daddy,” you said, nuzzling under his jaw and he hummed in contentment. He could feel you leaving featherlight kisses there and then down his neck and back up, and smiled at your antics, his cock jumping in his sweats. He loved this side of you and as much as he loved it when you acted a brat, but he knew how bad you needed to just give into him tonight.

Kicking the bedroom door open, he sauntered over to the bed and dropped you onto it, listening to you scream in delight and start laughing as you bounced on the mattress. “Be a good girl and get undressed, alright, princess?”

You nodded and started removing your clothes, throwing them towards the clothes basket in the corner of the room. Sans bra, you were naked within seconds and you laid back on your elbows to watch Yaku undress.

His muscles rippled and flexed as he pulled his shirt over his head, gripping the back of it and pulling it up. When he stood up straight again, he caught you staring and smiled. “What?”

You shrugged, turning a faint shade of pink as you averted your eyes. “You’re just so handsome. It’s hard to look at you.”

He laughed at that, a full laugh, and adoration welled up in him. You were too cute when you acted all shy like this, even if he could tell your words were sincere. Shucking his sweatpants, he knelt in between your legs, lifting one ankle up and kissing it. “You’re much prettier than I am, princess, you know that? The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. And so good for daddy, hm?”

He punctuated his words with kisses trailing up your inner calf and thigh, until he hooked it over his hip and leaned over to give you a gentle kiss. You responded eagerly, lips parting before he could ask and wrapping your tongue around his. He groaned when you curled your other leg over his other hip and pulled him in. His cock nestled perfectly against your slick folds, and you jumped at the sudden spark of pleasure and temptation.

You wanted him inside you and began to rock your hips, whimpering as the head of his cock caught on your clit. He pulled away from you and gave you an amused look, his lips quirking up at the corners.

You were so desperate and it had been so long since he’d gotten to touch you that he couldn’t even be mad as he let you hump against him and get your fill. Your pussy was a mess, leaking all over his cock and dripping down his balls and he breathed out shakily, bracing himself on his arms above you.

Your lips were parted, head tipped back as you rutted into him, nails digging into his biceps while he encouraged you.

“Come on, pretty girl. Cum all over daddy’s cock so he can fuck you. I know it’s been a while, but daddy’s gonna stretch that pretty pussy open so good for you, okay? Just need you to cum for him first,” he whispered, leading a path down your cheek and jaw with his lips, nipping at the column of your throat before lapping at the red mark. Your nipples were pretty pebbles and his mouth watered to wrap around one, but he contented himself to tweak them between his fingers, listening to the breathy moans and cries leaving your lips. He knew you were close, the way you were soaking his shaft and losing your rhythm told him so. “Do you need daddy to take over?”

You nodded pathetically, hips aching with the effort and a squeal ripped from you when his cockhead slid over your clit before lodging itself into your entrance, teasing your empty, needy hole before returning back up.

“Daddy, please don’t tease,” you begged, tears pricking the corner of your eyes and Yaku chuckled, leaving your tender nipples to cup your cheek. “Wanna cum so you can fuck me, so you can feel good too.”

“Oh, I appreciate it, babydoll,” he said fondly, “Hurry up and cum then so I can make both of us feel good, okay? Wanna split your pretty pussy wide,” and you nodded, the coil winding tighter when he dipped the head of his cock inside of you again.

Your hips jerked up of their own accord, but he was already pulling back even as he felt you start to cum, walls trying to suck him back in as he quickly returned to rub over your clit. You clung to him, waves of pleasure washing over you, your legs locked around his back until you were trembling with overstimulation.

“Feel better? Ready to take daddy’s cock now?” he asked, and you nodded even though you were still shaking, pussy drenched and clenching in anticipation. “Alright, on your stomach, pretty girl. It’s been a while, so daddy’s gonna treat you tonight.”

He backed off as you rolled over, squirming so that his cock, still wet with your essence, made a mess all over your ass. Settling his knees outside of yours, he slid himself between your cheeks, rocking back and forth while you whined, “Not there, daddy.”

“Well, you were rubbing this pretty ass all over it, I thought you were trying to tell me something,” he scolded playfully and stilled, planting his hands on either side of your head. “Tell me what you want then.”

“Want you in my pussy, daddy, please,” you said, shaking your ass again. He smacked it in response, and you gasped, your pussy clenching and dripping even more for it.

Pulling back, his hand gripped your hip as he guided his head to lodge in your drenched hole. A guttural groan slipped from his lips, arms shaking with the effort of bracing himself up and the feel of your wet cunt gripping his cock, sucking him in. “Shit, princess, your pussy’s so tight.”

You were babbling as he slowly filled you up, stretching you around his cock, praising and begging him in turns until his hips met yours. You could feel that prominent vein along the bottom dragging along your front wall, across that sweet spot that made your toes curled, your legs bending at the knees while you arched into the bed.

Yaku could feel your heels touch his back but he was too focused on how tight your pussy was, squeezing so hard around him that he had to stop and reorient himself before he came then and there. That position always made you so tight that it was hard for him to fuck you, and he carefully pulled halfway out and thrust back in, feeling you tremble underneath him.

Legs closed like that, it made his cock feel enormous inside you, every vein and his cockhead dragging over your spongy walls, hitting every sensitive spot you didn’t know you had. It left you lightheaded, tears trailing down your eyes as he settled into a hard rhythm of fucking into you, his hips snapping against your ass. Your clit throbbed with neglect and you whined.

“Daddy, can I play with my clit, please*?” you begged, fingers twisting in the blanket in an effort to stop yourself from just doing it. You couldn’t be sure Yaku wouldn’t punish you for it and you really, really didn’t want to make him do that. “Mm, I’m so close, wanna cum, daddy.”

He grunted, feeling you spasm around him. He definitely wasn’t going to last long like that, not with how tight you were and how long it had been and how fucking needy you sounded as he fucked your tight little snatch. He couldn’t even say he was fucking it open because you were too fucking tight for that. “Of course, princess. Rub that pretty clit, wanna feel you milk my cock while I cum in this pretty pussy. You wanna make daddy feel good, right? Come on, pretty girl.”

You were whining at the praise, crying at the overwhelming pleasure of his throbbing cock kissing your cervix while you rubbed your clit in tight, fast circles. Your slick was covering your fingers, your movements slippery and jerky and it was impossible to time them to his hard thrusts. Your mind whited out and narrowed down to the drag of that vein over that spot and the feel of his tip pressing against the deepest part of you, but what finally, finally did it for you was the low snarl in your ear when you tightened around him.

“Fucking cum for me, babygirl. Now,” Yaku snarled into your ear, punctuating his words with a few last thrusts and you wailed as you came, eyes rolling back in your head. He didn’t stop even when your fingers curled into the blanket again and tears streamed down your cheeks, cumming deep inside you. His breath came in heavy pants when he finally stilled, still buried to the hilt inside you. He fell to his elbows beside your head, nuzzling against your shoulder and leaving wet kisses there and up your neck to your ear. “You alright, pretty girl?”

You nodded, eyes still closed and tear tracks still wet on your cheeks, and he kissed them away. The two of you remained like that for a few moments, too tired and comfortable to move, but eventually Yaku’s arms began to grow tired and he sat up. “I’m gonna pull out now, then we’ll run a bath and get cleaned up, ‘kay?”

Again, you nodded, and trembled when he pulled his soft cock from you. Even he shuddered, still sensitive from his orgasm, then helped you to sit up. When you went to stand, your legs wobbled and you laughed together, letting him lead you to the bathroom. While he ran the bath, you took care of yourself and then he helped you into the tub.

He settled in behind you, pulling you backwards until your back was against his chest, and you let your head loll back on his shoulder. He let his mouth wander, drifting over your shoulder, neck, and jaw and back down again, and you hummed in contentment, letting your fingers trail up and down his muscular thighs.

Finally, he settled just under your ear, his warm breath tickling a little before he finally sighed. “I love you, you know that?”

For a reason unbeknownst to you, tears pricked your eyes at his words. The way he said it sparked something inside you, and you wiped away the few that managed to escape, frowning. “I don’t know why I’m crying. But I love you too, Mori.”

He laughed, catching a tear on his finger before letting it trail down your cheek, but didn’t say anything more. Your eyes fluttered shut as he continued to sprinkle you with kisses, hands wandering wherever they pleased, and you smiled softly with adoration.

#yaku x reader #yaku morisuke x reader #morisuke yaku x reader #haikyuu x reader #.useyourwords

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rachelbethhines · 4 years ago

Text

Tangled Salt Marathon - Rapunzel’s Return Part 2

Continuing on from part 1 -

https://rachelbethhines.tumblr.com/post/635068926214258688/tangled-salt-marathon-rapunzels-return-part-1

Summary: When Rapunzel tries to defeat the Saporians by herself she gets captured; but once Varian realizes that the Separatists plan on using one of his potions' destructive properties to destroy Corona, he and Rapunzel work together to stop it.

Let’s Talk About What a Let Down the Sapiorans Are

Throughout seasons one and two the Sapiorans were built up to be this intriguing race of people with a complex past and real problems that are sadly relatable to this day. They had a history, goal, motives, and special abilities like magic.

Yet all we got was a really bad hipster parody.

Heck, the crew can’t even keep it’s stereotypes right because they mostly slide into hippy territory instead. Hipsters, Yuppies, and Hippies are three distinctive counter culture movements for three different generations with completely different social concerns and fads.

Basically Chris tried to “stick it to the kids” again and just wound up insulting his parents' generation instead because he’s that oblivious of other human beings.

And that’s not even taking into account that previously the Sapiorans were living on the run as nomads in caravans not dissimilar to common Romani stereotypes, so the show is once again making negative racial connotations due to thoughtlessness.

Why Do You Have a Secret Underground Room Hidden Behind Your Workshop Xavier?

Like that not a thing normal people happen to have lying around there workspace. We still are given zero explanation for why Xavier has all this plot convenient knowledge and rare unordinary plot useful stuff.

Given his previous connection to Saporia and Zhan Tiri wouldn’t it not have made more sense to reveal that he is an actual plot important character in season three rather than keep him as just the exposition fairy?

So Was This Before or After the Saporian Take Over? Cause Either Answer Makes This a Dumb Plan.

Why would the guards, especially Cap, just give up? Did they even bother fighting and then lost to Varian’s weapons or were they told to stand down by a brainwashed Frederic? If they knew something was wrong then why not stay and help? What makes them think they even could find Rapunzel given how no one knew where she was heading and her letters were infrequent? What difference would they think finding Rapunzel would do?

Basically, just like with the “former cellmate” line, we needed to actually set up and establish this conflict rather than relying solely on exposition dumps. Because what we get here doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. It goes against established character and leaves a lot of unanswered plot holes.

More Promotion of Authoritarianism From the Show

Remember that these are the same people who formed a lynch mob to hunt down a fourteen year old all because the king told them to. The same king who had been lying to them for years and placed their lives and homes in danger for months. The same king who persecuted the poor and orphans for years. Him suddenly sending townsfolk to the mines isn’t anything new, so what are these people’s breaking points? Anyone else would have revolted by now.

But noooo, they need Rapunzel to do it for them. Cause Rapunzel is royalty and they can’t do anything without royal permission because they’re sheep. Sheep that’s been subjugated for years and conditioned to be afraid of their “beloved ruler”.

I understand from a meta point of view why you would want your main character to take charge but...

Like this isn’t inspiring.

It’s disturbing.

Why are we promoting blind loyalty to a person who’s not earned it just because they were born special? In a freakin’ kids show no less!

Oh and still no one bothers to call out King Frederic’s abuses here, FYI.

Take Note That Quirineon is Activated By Heat

This will be important later on in the review.

He’s Already Built Grenades For You. Wouldn’t Those Be Better Because They’re Easier to Control?

He’s already built explosive chemicals for you. You just used them in part one of the episode. And it came in an easy to use form rather than an unstable, and untested, mess that could literally blow up in your faces since no one, not even Varian himself, knows how to control it yet.

You Don’t Hammer Out a Cast Iron Pan

It’s literally in the word. To make a cast iron pan you pour the metal into a casted mold. You don't hammer it out like you would with a sword or something. And you can’t even go with the “rule of cool” here cause Rapunzel surrounded by molten metal and fire would have been far more impressive looking.

Yes I’m being picky cause I’m stalling. I don’t care. This is just yet another instance of the crew not paying attention to details like they should.

Behold The Final Time Eugene Will Ever Call Out Rapunzel’s BS

This is the last time Eugene will hold an honest discussion with Rapunzel like an equal to her. By the end of this episode he will have transitioned into full on doormat mode.

Also burying negative feelings and not addressing issues is who Rapunzel is. She’s been pulling this shit since day one. It’s what causes 90% of the conflicts in the show. Have you not noticed Eugene?

So This Episode Has Contradictory “Lessons”

The episode presents this idea that Rapunzel needs to open up to others and trust again after Cassandra’s betrayal. The problem is that the episode doesn’t follow through on that. It makes a knee-jerk decision to go with a “responsibility” lesson that wasn’t built up to instead at the last minute.

More on this later.

Varian Doesn’t Actually Interact With the Saporians at Any Point.

The only person Varian interacts with is Andrew. We have no concept of how he fits in with the rest of the group and what his dynamics are with them. What do they think of Varian? What does Varian think of them? The consequence to this is to further divorce Varian from narrative, even though this is supposed to be his redemption episode.

As I said in the last part, you can easily write Varian out of this episode and nothing really changes plot wise. That’s bad writing.

Also I was robbed of Khary Payton and Jeremy Jordan exchanging lines. I was this close to having audio material for my BH6 crossover, dang it!

Behold The One Time the Black Lady Gets a Line!

I think her name is Juniper?

You can tell it’s her because of the shadow on the wall.

Anyways they casted this part and only bothered to give the character a single line? What a waste!

But this just goes back to the series' poor representation. The only WOC in the show are presented as “shifty” and untrustworthy, even when they are ultimately “good guys”. The majority of them are straight up villains tho, and even as antagonists they’re not afforded any real screen time.

And the only other outright black women on the show is the inventor lady who was given zero respect and the ghost of a barbarian.

Once again, I don’t think the crew are intentionally racist. I think they’re just sloppy. They wanted to be more inclusive but they failed to actually give voice to minorities behind the scenes and so failed in representing them well. This is a problem with the industry as a whole, not just this one show, and must be talked about as such if we wish to change things for the better.

None of this “Stuff” Holds Any Real Meaning

We get several callbacks to season one through Cassandra’s personal things that she left behind, but none of this stuff holds any real personal meaning. It’s just there. They wind up triggering these big emotional reactions from both Rapunzel and Cassandra but the audience is just left confused because what they’re crying over are things that have little significance to these characters. Even this line from season one is just dripping with sarcasm and not some pleasant past memory that either Cass or Raps holds dear to their hearts.

Way To Go, Dumbass

It’s not that she went alone, or that she broke down when it finally hit her that Cass left, that I’m making fun off. The episode already addresses those two points.

No, what ticks me off is that Rapunzel has taken down killer robots, ghosts, and monsters before now with her magical hair but a handful of regular dudes can just bring her down? I don’t care how much alchemy they got. Depowering your main character for no stated reason just for narrative convenience is poor writing.

Because If He Didn’t He Would Have DIED, Rapunzel!!!

He literally would have freakin died had he not done something! He was left inside a jail cell to rot away! Before that he was threatened with hangman’s noose! Before that violence from an angry crowd! Before that he was left alone to starve and/or die from exposure! There was no way out for him except to fight!

And here you are inside the very prison that you kept him in and you still don't have the fucking self awareness to put two and two together!

This Right Here the Assassination of Rapunzel’s Character and the Killing Blow to the Series

Yeah, and what about after the storm? Hun, bitch!?

We’ve spent two damn seasons watching Rapunzel stepping on people and making excuses for herself and the one time when she should realize her actions are wrong and finally own up to her behavior and she still does not fucking change.

This is supposed to be a coming of age story! That means the main character is supposed to grow and learn shit! But when it matters most, Rapunzel only digs in her heels and refuses to change!

Why should I care about this character anymore if she’s just going to keep on being selfish no matter what? Why should I bother watching the show if it fails to deliver on its premise? How is this in any way shape or form an appropriate message for children!?

If you’re watching the series for the first time, then it’ll take awhile to register just how awful this scene is and how it really is the beginning of the end, because they did have time to turn things around after this. But they didn’t, and here we are.

This Isn’t a Real Apology

It’s not a real apology if all you do is make excuses for yourself. Rapunzel doesn’t address what she actually did wrong here and it has nothing to do with her stupid promise.

She neglected and enabled the abuse of a child for a year and three months, and she’s not even sorry for it!

You Were Never a “Friend” Rapunzel

Friends, actually do shit together. They enjoy each other’s company. They care when the other is hurt or in trouble.

Rapunzel only came to see Varian when she needed him for something. Even now, after this confrontation, that’s all she’ll ever do. She does not actually care about Varian, because the creators will not let her care.

And Here Comes the Death of Varian’s Characterization

In order to make this stupid, forced, “redemption” work the writers had to do a complete 180 with Varian’s character and his motivations. Instead of freeing his father, seeking revenge, or just, you know, surviving, he now suddenly cares about “being friends” and “being accepted by people”, only he has no reason to want any of that!

Rapunzel is a shit friend. Heck all the mains are crap friends to him. They ruined his life and the townspeople tried to kill him. Why would he want anything to do with any of these a-holes!?

Varian doesn’t get assassinated in the same sense as Rapunzel and Cassandra do. He doesn’t suddenly become a hateable dumb douchebag or anything, but he nevertheless has his character retroactively sabotaged by the writing.

Uh, Were You Not There When Your Dad Rounded Up a Lynch Mob Against Him, Raps?

I believe you were. Also Varian literally told you to your face that he had to go into hiding cause the townspeople were willing to attack him just because those rumors that you failed to stop and pretended not to know anything about.

Just because the characters shout something repeatedly does not make it true. The audience isn’t dumb. They can remember what happened only two seasons ago.

Where Was the Inciting Incident For This Change of Heart?

Why should he even want their forgiveness? Why has he given up on freeing his father? Why is he having second doubts about overthrowing the kingdom that persecuted him?

If you’re going to drastically change a character’s motivations, goals, and moral alignment then you need to present an in story reason for that change. We don’t get that. There’s no inciting incident on screen for us to see the shift in his character development.

The audience is left to only infer, and that’s poor writing. The audience shouldn’t have to do the work of the writers for them. Characters’ motivations and goals should not be guess work.

The only thing we can glean from this is that he had a change of heart while in prison and that’s a horrifying thing for the show to suggest. That’s basically justifying Frederic’s abuse. It also recontextualizes Varian’s arc into one of submission to his abusers and not one of learning to do the right thing simply because it’s right.

Once Again, Were You Not There For Season One Rapunzel?

They had a year and three damn months of chances. These people actively tried to do him harm just for simply seeking help. He has no reason to trust them nor you.

Why Are We Shoulding All of the Blame Onto the Abused Child?

Yes, he did do all of those things, technically, but they’re being presented here without context.

The Queen enabled his abuser who was threatening his life and destroyed his home. He kidnapped her as a last restore when all other methods to get out of his desperate situation failed.

The princess he threatened neglected him for three months and repeatedly refused to help him, even throwing him out into a deadly snow storm. Despite him being her responsibility, thereby making her neglect a flat out abuse of power.

He would have died a slow and painful death in prison had he not helped to overthrow the kingdom that persecuted him.

I’m not going to pretend that what Varian did was right or that he shouldn’t feel sorry for what he did, but this is a highly skewed version of events that are being recounted here just to create bias in the viewers. It’s manipulative writing intended to gaslight the audience.

Also, why does he even want a second chance!?

Doesn’t This Undermine The Saporian’s Goals?

The Saporians wanted to reclaim their ancestral homeland so that they would no longer be a displaced people. How does blowing up that homeland help them?

Season three just throws all logic out the window. There’s barely a single villain who doesn’t undermine their own goals at some point with their stupid actions.

So Why Varian and Andrew Not Some Other Team Up?

Out of all of the various recurring baddies in the show Varian and Andrew have the least in common. I’m not saying that they couldn’t work together, but doing so required more set up than this. Because as is, this is a very contrived teamup.

They have diametrically opposed goals and moral alignments. Varian doesn’t bring anything to the table that the Saporaions couldn’t have supplied themselves. Meanwhile the Saporians have failed to offer Varian anything that he could want.

At best it’s a marriage of convenience for them to both break out of prison together, but even that is contrived because we don't know why neither of them were sent away on the prison barge with the rest of the season one villians.

Better combinations would have been

Varian & Lady Caine

Andrew & Lady Caine

Varian & Cass

Andrew & Cass

Varian & Zhan Tiri

Andrew & Zhan Tiri

Varian & Hector

The Baron & Varian

Andrew & Staylan

King Trevor & Varian

Like there were tons of options here that the writers just ignored, even though any of them would have made more sense than the one they went with.

The Andrew and Varian Dynamic Can Be Seen as an Allegory for Grooming; Unfortunately the Writers Didn’t Consider That Implication.

Yeah... That’s pretty much what Andrew has done here. He’s groomed this desperate and lonely teen to become a child soldier for him. And one only can only pray that’s all he tried to groom him to do since they were trapped inside a confined and enclosed space together for several months.

Listen, I don’t mind children’s shows touching upon darker subjects. Often fantasy is a good way for people to process complex themes and uncomfortable real world situations through the safety of fiction. It can even be helpful for those who have had the misfortune to experience certain traumas.

I’m not complaining that TTS is too dark.

I’m complaining about it being shit.

All of the crap Varian goes through is just thrown in there for shock value. It’s not here to commentate on the real world nor provide a complex story. The situations are brought only to then be outright ignored. This isn’t thoughtful nor deep. It’s not meaningful nor heartfelt. It’s just hollow drama done in bad taste.

You’re Not In a Position to Judge Rapunzel

You got captured first because you decided to throw yourself a pity party.

Would He Though?

I’m pretty sure Quirin is very well aware of how shitty Frederic is. If anything I would think he’d be pissed that his son, that he tried so hard to protect, was mistreated in such a hordenous way.

This isn’t some satisfying ending to Varian’s arc. It’s a heartbreaking revelation that he’s been beaten down by his abusers.

Varian’s Arc Isn’t Actually About Validation, and Rapunzel Giving It Here Doesn’t Really Change Anything

I spoke about this before on its own, but Tangled the Series places far too much stock in validation. Yes, it’s an aspect of his character arc, but it’s not the end all and be all of his motivation. It’s not the force that drives him to do what he does.

His primary goal is survival, both for himself and for his father. His secondary goal is gaining his father’s approval, but that’s not because he’s seeking generic praise, it’s because his father is emotionally distant. The “validation” is a mask for the real issues which are to fix his relationship with his dad and avoid the guilt of having possibly killed him in an accident.

Rapunzel has fuck all to do with that.

He doesn’t need to hear approval from her. He needs her to get her shit together and help him!

Rapunzel’s and Varian’s Situations Are Nothing Alike and Rapunzel Doesn’t Know Jackshit

Rapunzel you were dumped by your bestie because you’re a shitty friend.

Varian was neglected and abused by those who were supposed to take care of him.

Unless you’re drawing parallels to how Frederic and Gothel treated you, and even then neither of them denied you basic fucking needs!

This should be an “Oh Shit! I’ve become just like Mother Gothel” moment for Rapunzel, not an “Oh yay! Someone to share in my personal misery” moment.

Man, Rapunzel suuuuuucks!

Also This Still Isn’t An Actual Apology

Once again, Rapunzel is not admitting what she did wrong here. She’s not actually acknowledging Varian’s pain, nor what she needs to do to make admins with him.

What she’s doing is making things all about herself again. She’s talking about her feelings. About what she is facing. Rapunzel is an incredibly selfish and egotistical person and the show is trying to present this as a positive thing by rewarding her for such behavior.

Varian’s Redemption Should Have Nothing to Do with “Friendship”

Varian has no reason to want to become friends again with the woman who ruined his life and abused him.

But more than that, redemption shouldn’t be dependent upon Rapunzel’s friendship, nor even her ‘forgiveness”. Varian should be able to do the right thing just because it’s the right thing, Rapunzel be damned.

This cheepens not only his character development but also Rapunzel’s development as well. Rapunzel is not allowed to grow as a person and accept that not everyone wants to be her friend, and that people may have valid reasons to hate her even, and that doesn’t make them evil.

It also rushes through Varian’s arc undermining what the audience had to get through to get to this point.

OK, Let’s Talk About The Goatee

I wouldn’t have minded the beard had it just not looked like a fucking barcode. There’s production art where it looks fine. But just wiping it away ties back to what I was talking about in part one. It’s denying Varian the chance to grow up. This is supposed to be his coming of age story as well but the crew won't let him do that because “rule of funny” apparently overrides what the characters actually need in order to develop.

Once again, the show isn’t a sitcom. You can have comedic moments but the comedy doesn’t need to outright undermine the drama.

Once Again, Shouldn’t Eugene Be the First Person to Jump to Varian’s Defence?

You mean the orphan on the streets who stole stuff and fought to survive when the adults failed to take care of him? Is that what you’re talking about Eugene? Cause if I remember correctly that was you not just three years ago.

You Mean Rapunzel Needs Him To Make Her Feel Better About Herself

Spoiler alert, but Varian doesn’t actually do anything after this point in the episode. His entire “redemption” is just about making Rapunzel feel better about herself after Cass has rejected her. He’s literally become the rebound.

How Come Varian Suddenly Became Shorter Just for This Shot?

I know the meta reason is to reflect that scene back in Queen for a Day when Rapunzel promised him that she'd help him before everything went tits up. Where he was also drawn shorter in that episode to make him seem more verunable, but here he’s just suddenly shorter for only two shots and then suddenly back to his usual height.

Crap like this is why I insist that Varian didn’t actually get any taller in season three. The show just has always been inconsistent with his height and most of the “evidence” for his growth are cherry picked instances where the show drew him smaller than usual for reasons, like here.

So Where Did They Get That Much of the Explosives and How Did They Get Them So Fast?

Only Varian knows how to manufacture that stuff. Why would he make that much of it if he was still in the experimental phase with it? He’s even surprised that they have so much, so where did they get it? If they made it then, how did they make it so fast?

So This Plan Goes Nowhere

Spoiler alert: Varian doesn’t actually get to do any of that. In fact he’s kind of pointless for the rest of the episode.

Why Would the King and Queen Care About a City That They Can’t Remember?

Like this revenge doesn’t make sense. It’s just a contrived way to get Eugene and Lance out of the way.

If the Quirineon Explodes From Being Exposed to Heat Then What Good Does Just Dropping It Do?

Yeah, remember? The stuff explodes when heated. Simply dropping it shouldn’t do anything other than make a mess on the ground maybe.

All That Build Up and Varian Still Doesn’t Get to Do Anything Useful

Up till this point, Varian was shown to be the most competent threat in the show. Yet here they have him be a screw up twice in a row just for comedy antics and to glorify Rapunzel again.

If you got to nerf other characters just to make your main look good then you’ve failed to establish your main character as being capable in their own right.

Remember That This Boy Was Trapped in a Jail Cell With This Guy for a Year!

No, I’ll never be over this.

Andrew is the most directly violent and scummy out of all of the villians in the show.

If he’s willing to do this now, if he was willing to do this to his ex-girlfriend, then what the heck was he willing to do when he and Varian were trapped alone together?

So Andrew Just Willingly Sacrifices His Own People Here....Even Though His Goal Was to Give His People a New Home....

People need to use this gif more often when concerning this show and the villains’ ass-backwards plans.

And yes they survive because of Varian alchemy. But that was on accident. Andrew had no way of knowing that would happen. He’s willing to destroy his own people just to blow up his ancestral homeland and for what!? What does he gain from this action?

The Mind Wipe Kills Frederic’s and Arianna’s Characters; Littraly

Frederic and Arianna are effectively dead at this point. Anything that made them, well them, has been wiped away. Their personalities, hopes, dreams, their on going stories and development, just gone. And we never get them back, even when their memories supposedly return.

Varian’s Not Even Allowed to Get the Idea On How to Save Corona...In His Own Redemption Episode No Less

This is his episode! We’ve spent two years building up to this point and you can’t even let him help? He’s denied the chance to make up for his own mistakes! Just so Rapunzel can play hero and be a very shallow representation of what a bunch of men think a “strong” woman should be!

It’s fucking insulting. That’s what it is.

Making a female character the center of the universe to the point where other people are just props for her is not empowering!

No It’s Not!!

Uh you wouldn’t even be here had you just fucking helped Varian to being with you dumb bitch! This is very much you and your father’s mess!

Even now, while pretending to be responsible, Rapunzel can’t actually be responsible and own up to what she did!

She’s fucking 20 and the 16 year old shows more maturity than her!

Also Your Hair Can Protect Two People at Once Rapunzel; Remember?

There’s no excuse for leaving Varian out of the action. We’ve been shown multiple times now that Rapunzel’s magic hair can protect her and other people at the same time.

Having Rapunzel Save the Day By Herself Undermines Everything the Episode Was Trying to Establish

What happened to needing to “trust again” and letting other people help you? Having Rapunzel save the day alone just tosses out the lesson that the show was trying to build up to.

The show tries to frame this as Rapunzel learning “responsibility” but that also does not work. For one it was never established that she needed to learn that within the episode itself and secondly, she doesn’t actually do anything different from what she usually does.

Being an action hero isn’t the same thing as being responsible. Being responsible is being considerate of others, doing the borning shit or mundane crap that you hate, and being mature enough to recognize your own failings and admitting when you were wrong.

So in the end Rapunzel is neither responsible nor more open to others.

And There’s the Death of Eugene’s Character

Lance, who has maybe exchanged all of three sentences with Raps, is more distrught than the guy that supposedly wants to marry her. This isn’t heartwarming, nor it is growth. It’s just lobotomizing a character right in front of our eyes.

In this very episode he was worried about Raps going to face the Saporians by herself and was, guess what, fucking right to do so. But he doesn’t give two shits if she gets blown up!?

Ooookaaaay.....

This is the completion of turning Eugene into a doormat. From now own he shan’t be allowed to have any thoughts or feelings of his own that disagrees with Rapunzel.

The Eugene we knew is now dead.

But Of Course the Show Rewards Everyone for Behaving In the Dumbest Way Possible Anyways

Don’t expect any of these grossly out of character moments and oxygen deprived logic to be addressed nor fixed within the show. The series will keep on shoving unearned endings into our facing while insisting that this is positive development.

How Did Y’all Get Here Before Varian?

Yes, he was left on a roof, but he can climb and y’all were outside of the city.

Yeah... A Year and Half Fucking Later!

Ok, a year and three months, but that’s still not any better. Worse, all this implies is that Rapunzel would not have ever concerned herself with trying to free Quirin had Varian not broken out of prison. She would have literally left them both for dead and we’re supposed to find her suddenly doing the bare fucking minimum heartwarming and inspiring?

Where Was the Inciting Incident to Use the Decay Incantation for This?

How did Rapunzel come up with this plan? When did she come up with it?

When the hurt incantation was first found no one mentioned how it could be used to save Quirin. No one even gave Quirin a thought. Since then the incarnation hasn’t been brought back up, ever. This is a pretty big leap in logic for Rapunzel to suddenly think of this.

All it highlights how Varian was originally meant to be there to translate the scrolls and incantations in order to establish all this but of course it got cut so now it just comes the fuck out of nowhere.

Not Letting Varian Have Anything to Do With Saving His Father Is Even Worse Than Not Letting Him Save the Day

This has been his motivation since the beginning. It’s been the driving plot for a season, and now that the time has finally come what does get to do?

Hold a dang bucket.

Part of coming up with satisfying endings is following through on what you’ve established. The audience needs closure. Simply freeing Quirin isn’t enough, we need the carthartis of Varian specifically fulfilling his goal.

I don’t know how to break this to you Chris, but this isn’t Rapunzel’s story. Not this segment of it anyways. It’s Varian’s and it just so happens to connect to Rapunzel’s. She shouldn’t have been center stage for this.

The Series Blows It’s Load Too Early with the Incantations

This is the last time we’ll hear any of the incantations sung on screen, cause someone in budgeting didn’t know what was important to throw the money at and what was not.

It’s not bad here, but if we could only hear one incantation only once this season it needed to be in the finale with the final heal incantation.

Varian Was Right All Along

Also, all this does is justify Varian’s actions in season one. Rapunzel was indeed the only one who could free his dad according to this. For a series that desperately wants to shove all of the blame onto an abused child’s shoulders they sure go out their way to prove him right.

So How Is the Hurt Incantation Suppose to Work?

There were so many fan theories after this scene because Varian and Quirin don’t respond to the hurt incantation the same way previous characters had.

No one is gasping for breath, Varian can touch Raps without burning his hands, and Rapunzel can control the direction of her power. ect.

Turns out there was nothing there, the writers just didn’t know what the fuck they were doing and made the hurt incantation very inconsistent just like all of the magic in this show.

BULLSHIT!!!

You literally turn into a villain because she gave up on you!!!!

She also didn’t give two shits about you throughout the entirety of season two.

Why are we just pretending like season one didn’t exist!?

Why!?

The Note!!!

No It Fucking Didn’t!

Does That Look Like “I’m Proud of You Son” To You?

Chris went on to confirm that, yes, the note did hold more information that then got cut. Pretty much confirming all that we suspected. That Varian was cut from season two and his story hastily shoved back into season three at the last minute.

Below is the link to the tumblr post he made.

https://cnotes.tumblr.com/post/190534585146/apparently-one-of-the-writers-said-a-while-back

What’s worse is that his defense is such bullshit. The below exchange pretty much sums it all up.

This Doesn’t Actually Resolve Anything and Is Therefore Unsatisfying to Watch

Part of the reason why this conclusion doesn’t work is because it doesn’t actually address any of the problems that they have in their relationship. Quirin never owns up to what he did wrong. There’s no discussion of what Varian was up to while he was entrapped, no conversation about what secrets Quirin hid from his son, and zero admission of wrongdoing on either side.

Also Varian has done nothing significant to earn those particular words. Saying I love makes sense, but in context saying “I’m proud of you” does not. It doesn’t even work on a meta level cause the episode prevented Varioan from accomplishing anything.

It’s empty.

There Could Have Been More Screen Time to Fix This If Not for Season Two Mucking About

https://discord.com/channels/427940661589704715/569296212218347522/777635115978457098

Above is the link to the original storyboards. It doesn’t fix everything but there’s a lot more satisfying emotional beats including adding Ruddiger back in who is suspiciously absent for the entire episode for no stated reason.

This version was cut due to time. Which, like with the Crossing the Line song, didn’t need to be had they been more effective with their usage of time in season two.

They also could have had a better conclusion to Varian’s arc in general had he not been cut from season two altogether.

So What Does Freeing Quirin Add to the Series?

I’m serious. What does freeing Quirin at this point and time do for the story?

It doesn’t add any character development, Quirin just wanders around aimlessly in the background until the finale and even then his part in that is a pointless dead end. Varian doesn’t gain his emotional closure, just empty, hollow “praise”. Nor is he allowed to accomplish any of his established goals. No new lore or history is exposed. No mystery uncovered.

There’s no reason why this couldn’t have been done later in the season. Provide more tension and keep up the consequences of the characters actions. Give the mains something to do and work on until Cass and Zhan Tiri show up again.

The only reason why this is here is to wrap Varian’s story up as soon as possible so he won’t “steal Cassandra’s spotlight”. That’s it. He’s rewarded for conforming to Rapunzel’s will and all the fans should shut up and be grateful, at least according to Chris.

I Like This Song But It Wasn’t Needed

It doesn’t add anything to the story. It’s just a generic celebration song. Which would be fine if it wasn’t for the fact that we have a limited number of songs, even less than in previous seasons, and the story isn’t over yet. This is the wrong place to put a victory song at.

Especially when we could have had a song that furthered Varian’s redemption instead. Yeah, that was cut too.

So Is Varian the New “Lance” This Season?

He’s right there! This is his dang focus episode!

Why hire Broadway singers and not let them sing!? Why waste talent and money like that?

Also These Lyrics!

Did Glenn Slater just not read the scripts before writing the songs? That’s all season three ever does! Give the mains what they want without earning it. Even in this very episode!

So Is This Rapunzel’s 20th Birthday or Not?

Ok I have gotten into many a heated debate about how long season three is supposed to be. And that’s because what the crew says doesn’t match what the series shows us.

By all accounts this should be Rapunzel’s birthday. According to season two she’s been gone for one year, and there’s the lanterns that they fly specifically on her birthday.

But no one verbally says it’s her birthday and I’ve heard conflicting accounts from different members of the crew. Some stating that it is her 20th birthday and some disagreeing that it is.

Well I’ll take what evidence that the show actually presents to its audience on screen over what the cast and crew says after the fact any day of the week, so I’ll be gathering up this evidence and proving by the end that season three is two years not one.

But the fact that I must comb through series to prove this, the fact that we can even have this debate, and the fact that the crew have to state basic info after the series is over is just proof of the bad writing.

Fun Fact: Cupcakes Weren’t Invented Until the 20th Century

Yeah, that’s the fault of the OG film, and yeah it doesn’t really mean much, but still it’s one more thing to add to the pile of stuff that doesn’t fit.

Plus I’m just a hardcore nerd for historical cooking and I like to share my knowledge.

Yeah But How Can He Trust All of You Again?

You’re the ones who let him down first; repeatedly. And you only started to make things up to him once he became useful to you. What assurance does he have that you won’t mistreat him again next time he’s in trouble or is no longer of any use to y’all?

Yes, Let NOT Show What the Main Character Is Actually Going Through

Yup, this is “Rapunzel’s show” but we’re not going to let Rapunzel have any focus on her feelings or give any insight into her thought process about what is the main conflict of the series now.

Conclusion

Ducktales was robbed!

I can’t believe this shit won an Emmy for “best writing.” It utterly fails on every possible level. It fails to be a continuation of the ongoing story and it fails to be a stand alone episode. Even the very structure of the story is fundamentally flawed. The only reason why it’s not the worst episode of the entire series because the finale and the penultimate episodes exist.

Anyways...I finally made it through. It literally took my entire weekend but I’m finally caught up. Next week I’ll be going back to the usual one episode a week schedule.

#Varian #tangled #anti-rapunzel #rapunzel's tangled adventure #tangled the series #Eugene #andrew

131 notes · View notes

sinsbymanka · 4 years ago

Note

Female Hawke/Varric Tethras + kiss prompt 'on a scar' and it's one of Hawke's scars? :3

Thank you for the prompt @serphena!! For @dadrunkwriting and in honor of my Varricmance March Madness...

The Crossbow Goes or I Do

Words: 2,104 Rating: Teen Chapter 1/1 Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, They did their pining, ten years of it apparently, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Mutually Unrequited, Friends to Lovers, Past Bianca Davri/Varric Tethras, Hawke is a menace, Mage Hawke (Dragon Age), Purple Hawke (Dragon Age), Flirting, Banter, POV Varric Tethras, Varric Tethras' Chest Hair, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Elodie Hawke is a menace that fits just right into Varric's life and keeps him on his toes. After The Incident with misfiring Bianca, Varric knows he'll let her get away with anything....

...except it's hard to let her get away with leaving.

Read on AO3

Varric doesn’t know how The Incident happened.

Well, that’s not strictly accurate. He knows Hawke the way he knows the best ways to sneak around the Guild Hall, where to purchase the good ink, and how much it’ll cost to bribe Corf when Rivaini gets carried away. He’s well aware of what she gets up to when she’s unsupervised.

Hell, usually when she’s supervised too. The woman is a force of nature and they’re just along for the ride.

What does surprise him about The Incident, as it’s known forever after, is how quickly it happened. He swears up and down every time it comes up in conversation afterward he only looks away from Hawke for a moment. One second, he’s peering down at the short story that eventually became his bestselling Hard in Hightown series, the next…

The sound of a bolt rattling into Bianca’s chamber, the whoosh of another flying through the air, followed quickly by his large, ornate, absolutely atrocious dressing mirror shattering into a million pieces.

He’s better off without it. Honestly, the most upsetting part of the whole sequence of events is that he isn’t holding Bianca.

Varric doesn’t look up from his papers. The room is completely quiet.

“Hawke.”

“Varric.”

He appreciates the deadpan delivery of his name. He really does. Odd how quickly Hawke wormed her way into that special, stupid part of his heart that forgives almost anything. She’s barely off the boat at this moment, fresh faced and lively if a bit too hungry looking.

He’s known her for a few months. And, bizarrely, he feels like he’s known her all his life.

“That sounded like Bianca,” he observes, as if he wouldn’t know the way Bianca sounds anywhere.

“Well, that doesn’t make any sense,” Hawke chirps. “Somebody told me that Bianca is a delicate, complicated lady who can only be fired by one specific dwarf who was trained in her secrets by an Antivan Crow whose life the dwarf saved.”

He finally looks up to take in the damage. Mirror shattered, bolt in the wall behind it, and Hawke standing shamelessly in the middle of the room cradling his crossbow.

“Somebody also told you not to touch her,” he adds pointedly.

Hawke grins from ear to ear. “We’ve already established somebody is full of shit.”

He discards his journal and glides back across the room, arms out and a carefully maintained disgruntled look on his features. “Come here, beautiful. What’d she do to you?”

Hawke takes a step back, eyes widening in clear afront. “What did I do to her? Varric, she’s drawn blood!”

“I told you she’s a sensitive lady. Difficult to handle. Little rough around the edges.”

“She’s a menace Varric.” Hawke relinquishes the crossbow and examines her fingers with a wrinkled nose. On her left ring finger is a nice cut, blood welling and dripping down her palm. “Look what she did!”

There’s a smear of crimson on the trigger. He wipes it away with his shirt sleeve. “You got your fingers stuck in the gears. She taught you a lesson about respecting other people’s property.”

“It’s going to scar!”

“Let me send an urgent note down to Darktown for Blondie. He’ll be thrilled to come stitch together your papercut.”

She laughs and puts one palm on the curve of her hip, leaning into his space. “I’m telling you Varric, the crossbow goes or I do.”

Something lurches in his stomach, a hint of fear he doesn’t quite have a name for, a bit of knee jerk panic at the thought of losing the last bit of her he truly has. But Hawke’s joking, Hawke is always joking, he can see the sparkle in her blue eyes and the twitch at the corner of her lips.

He lets his own tip up in the same playfulness. “You better clean up this mess before you go.”

She sighs in defeat and plops her finger between her pink lips, sucking on it thoughtfully while she looks at the chaos she’s caused. Varric spends a second too long examining the way her cheeks hollow around her finger.

He’s only a man, after all, no matter how taken he is.

“How much bad luck is it to break a mirror again?” she asks.

Varric doesn’t believe in human superstitions, or much of anything beyond the worth of his coin or the power of a well-loved lie, but he answers her. “Seven years at least. And just in time for our expedition too.”

Another moment of silence. Then one single, elegant curse. “Bollocks.”

Somehow, Varric gets stuck with the job of keeping Hawke in bed.

Privately, he thinks Blondie must be out to get him for humiliating the mage in more than one card game. Otherwise Varric wouldn’t get saddled with the most impossible job in Kirkwall. Their newly crowned Champion, and what a laugh that is, sits in her opulent bed wearing nothing but the rattiest shirt he’s ever seen. It’s so large it hangs off one freckled shoulder.

Varric wonders if it isn’t one of Carver’s old hand-me-downs. It’s better than thinking Hawke was plucking her nightclothes out of some moldy trunk in Lowtown, anyway.

Her icy eyes glare daggers into him from where she’s propped against the headboard. “Varric, if you don’t help me out of this bed I will chop Bianca into firewood.”

“Remember what happened the last time you got into a tussle with Bianca?” Varric asks, raising his eyebrows.

“I still have the scar!” she protests, trying weakly to push herself up off the bed. The covers slip, revealing the bandages wrapped around Hawke’s waist. Before Anders got his hands on her, bandages like those were the only thing holding Hawke’s guts inside her.

Varric knows. He put them on.

“You’re gonna have a better one now. Comes with a heroic story and everything.” A story where Varric stands, clutching his crossbow, helpless and afraid as a sword pierces Hawke’s body and hoists her off her feet. A story where she summons a fistful of fire to smother the Arishok as she’s impaled on his blade.

Varric’s still covered in a cold sweat and it’s been four days. Andraste’s ass, what would he have done if…?

But it’s not worth thinking about. He can’t face it in this bright bedroom, with Hawke and the mutinous gleam in her eyes. She swings them from his face to the window, her expression wistful.

It tugs at his heartstrings, it really does. Hawke has barely spent a night in this mansion in Hightown since they dragged Leandra’s body from the monster’s pit and held a quiet, solemn funeral at the Chantry. She bunks at a spare cot in Anders’ clinic, crashes on the moldy old chaise in Fenris’ mansion, falls asleep in Merrill’s bed while Daisy sits in front of her damned mirror all night.

But, more often than not, she’s in Varric’s bed and he’s in his armchair. Or she falls asleep in the armchair and refuses to be moved. Varric should complain, it’s ridiculous that he’s sharing one suite of rooms while she’s got a whole damn house, but he doesn’t. He can’t.

He knows what it’s like to live in a mausoleum to the dead.

In truth, Hawke has not come home to stay since it stopped being a home, and now she’s trapped there with her guts shoved back in and a title she could care less for.

“Play a game of Diamondback with me,” he cajoles. “You win, I’ll risk my chest hair and get you into the garden against the doctor’s orders.”

Hawke bites her lip and considers his offer, narrowing her eyes. “You cheat.”

“And if you pay attention, you may learn something to improve your own lackluster technique.” He pulls the cards from his pocket and hops up, in a painfully undignified fashion, onto her ridiculously high bed. The action brings a spark of humor to her gaze.

“I won’t be distracted by your ridiculous cleavage today, serah,” she teases, watching him shuffle the cards. In the brief moment of silence, Varric catches the way she runs her thumb over her finger, tracing the small silver scar Bianca left all those years ago. It’s a habit he’s noticed with fondness when she’s plotting, and it should worry him to see her scheming…

But honestly, he’d rather have her scarred and scheming than not have her at all.

They stand on the docks with the world on fire around them when Varric finally runs out of things to say.

There’s a joke here... somewhere. He struggles to find it while Hawke stares over his head at the ruined landscape of Kirkwall. He could say something about how she sure knows how to make an exit, but the thought of her exit sticks in his throat, deep in his chest.

Kirkwall without Hawke makes no sense. Varric without Hawke makes no sense, and when did that happen?

She’s leaving and he’s staying. It’s what they need to do. She’ll be free as a bird to ignite the revolution she’s become the figurehead of, thanks to Blondie, and he’ll be here to confuse and confound the authorities while he tries to put his home back together.

But, somehow, it feels like his home is about to get on Isabela’s ship.

“Look on the bright side, Varric.” He looks up into Hawke’s face. She’s got her best Champion smile plastered on, the one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “We’ve almost burned through those seven years of bad luck, right?”

The mirror. Her face without the wrinkles of worry at the corner of her eyes, on her forehead, Bianca in her arms and a smile on her face. Varric’s chest constricts painfully.

The Hanged Man is gone. Hawke is leaving. All he’s got is Bianca on his back and a pile of trouble again.

“You’ll always have the scar though,” he jokes weakly.

She looks down at her hands. Varric wonders if she can see blood on them, even though she’s done everything she could have. The scar from her run in from Bianca is merely a thin white line across her finger, but his eyes go there immediately.

He doesn’t know what possesses him, but it feels right to snatch that hand out of the air. Long fingers curl immediately over his leather gloves and her blue eyes flick to his face.

It’s a bad idea, but he’s too committed to stop now. He brings her knuckles to his lips like she’s a fairytale princess instead of the biggest menace he’s ever known, like he’s a knight instead of a cheating scoundrel. His lips brush over that thin scar softly before he pulls away, looking up into Hawke’s eyes.

She swallows, hard, and Varric swears he sees tears in her eyes behind a watery smile. Varric’s words are still missing, lost somewhere in the rubble around them, but he has to try. “Hawke-”

She pulls her hand from his and drops it to the side. “Well Varric,” she begins behind her brittle smile. “I’ve been telling you for years. That crossbow goes or I do.”

For a brief, insane moment Varric considers slinging his beloved Bianca over his shoulder and into the harbor. It passes just as Hawke stoops to envelop him in her too long arms. He just catches her whisper. “I’ll miss you.”

“Yeah,” Varric swallows his own bitter emotion. “Me too, Elodie.”

That makes her laugh and lightly punch his shoulder as she withdraws. He barely gets a look at her tearstained face before she flees up the gangplank and onto the boat, leaving him bereft.

“If you were waiting for an opportune moment, you have missed it,” Fenris remarks acidicly behind him.

Varric ignores the remark and the ridiculous insinuation behind it as Fenris appears in his line of sight. His love life is complicated enough, after all. “I can afford to let her go, she doesn’t owe me five sovereigns.”

The familiar, immediate refrain is almost comforting. “I’m good for it.”

Varric huffs a small, broken laugh. “No you’re not.”

“You are not incorrect,” Fenris finally admits. The elf casts a look behind him for a moment before adjusting the pack over his shoulder. “I wish you well, my friend.”

The bastard has enough decency not to add Varric will need it. “Watch her back, Broody.”

“I will attempt to do so,” Fenris murmurs, shoving past him. “Although nobody does it as well as you.”

Varric watches him go with a heavy weight in his stomach.

That is exactly what he’s afraid of.

#manka writes #dadrunkwriting #varric tethras #female hawke #elodie hawke #female hawke/varric tethras #dragon age #dragon age 2 #varricmance march madness

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas · 4 years ago

Note

What if; Sooga had a diary that he wrote ALL his dirty little fantasies about Kohga in. And one day, Kohga finds it. Instead of just reading it by himself, which would be humiliating enough for Sooga, Kohga decides to gather all the members of the clan around, and READ SOOGA’S DIARY OUT LOUD FOR EVERYONE TO HEAR

Oooh this is something fun to work with! Let’s go!

“Where the HELL did he hide it?? Dammit Sooga!”

Sooga was currently out training some new yiga members, and Kohga decided to have something sexy planned for when he got back. Only, what he was looking for, Sooga had hidden in his own goddamn room. It was smaller than his own, and yet, Kohga couldn’t fucking find it. A bottle of oil. His FAVORITE oil, that Sooga had used to jerk himself off. Was it hot? Yes. Was it convenient? No. He kept looking through Sooga’s shit, before he finally found what he was looking for. He grabbed it, and was about to make his way back to the room, when he accidentally knocked something over. Some small book.

“Oops. Hopefully that wasn’t anything too important-waaait. What’s this?”

Kohga thumbed through the small, leather bound book. He didn’t read the whole thing, but he soon realized; this was his diary. With a few mentions of Kohga’s ass. Oooh this was a diary. A PERVY diary. This was WAY better than the surprise he had in mind.

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

“Alright everyone, asses in front! All of you!”

No one had any idea why Kohga had commanded them forward, much less to his napping spot. It was important, given the fact that he was in his favorite seat. Sooga joined as well, of course, as he did with any event.

“Master Kohga. I was unaware you had something important planned.”

“It’s a last minute thing. Everyone comfy? Good. Because we’re going to have a BIT of a story time.”

Everyone was clearly excited about that, a few even clapped. Anyone loved ANY chance to listen to Kohga’s voice. Kohga whipped out the book, and Sooga looked over it curiously. He didn’t even know just what he was holding. This was going to be good. Kohga cleared his throat, getting comfy.

“Now. Everyone we got today’s material by a certain loyal lackey. He knows who he is.”

Kohga turned to a random page, and stopped as soon as he saw the word ‘ass’. Perfect.

“Ahem. ‘I’m ashamed to admit this, but I caught myself looking at Master Kohga’s ass today. I was just watching over as he slept, and I noticed how full and voluptuous it was. I was SO tempted to touch it, and had I not been interrupted by another member of the clan, wanting to know if Kohga needed snacks, I may have succumbed to those emotions. Even now, as I try to rest, I picture how it would feel in my hands’”

The recognition in his face. The recognition in ALL of their faces. Sooga made a beeline for the book, eager to silence him, but Kohga held his hand up. Sooga stopped on instinct, but he could tell he wanted SO badly to snatch it. Kohga wagged his finger in the air.

“Ah ah ah~. Sit, Sooga.”

“But Master Kohga, you CANNOT read-”

“Are you telling me what I can and can’t do, Sooga?”

He hesitated, before sitting down on his knees, keeping his gaze to the ground. Sooga patted his head, before turning to the next page.

“Oh here’s a good one. ‘I have acted poorly today. Instead of just resting, like one is supposed to for peak performance, I was up all night. I wasn’t trying to, I swear it, but I kept thinking of Kohga’s hands. Kohga’s hands are so nimble, so soft looking, I’d do anything to have them touch me. My own hand upon my cock is surely a poor comparison to the real thing. I’d do anything to just cum in his palm, just once, have him shove it in my face and tell me I’ve been filthy’. Damn Sooga, you got a bit into that one!”

A few members chuckled, some were eager to hear more of Sooga’s dirty, dirty fantasies, and Kohga swore he caught one or two touching themselves. All while Sooga stood there, trying not to meet anyone’s gaze. He was humiliated, and there was something so sexy, knowing his pride of a boyfriend wrote such dirty words. Kohga skimmed through before finding another page.

“‘I couldn’t believe myself. I had meant to deliver something to Master Kohga today, only to accidentally catch him in his bath. The door wasn’t fully closed, so I caught a glimpse of his nude body. I forced myself to walk away, but I only came back. It was worse off this time, as I had my favorite toy inside of me (the yellow one). I don’t know what compelled me to sit there and watch, picturing the fake gerth inside of me was Kohga’s. Kohga had such a soft looking body, but his random bouts of chuckling led me to believe that he is quite heavy handed in the bedroom. It wasn’t difficult for me to orgasm, right as I was watching him scrub his legs. I felt embarrassed, knowing I had puddle of cum in my pants, but it was worth it, if only to live in the fantasy that Master Kohga would one day have me, to use me as he wishes’. Didn’t know you were such a pervert, Sooga!”

Even Kohga had to palm himself a little bit, a bit aroused by so many naughty confessions from his second hand. A few more were palming themselves, a few others were muttering over how naughty it was. All while Sooga stood there, gripping onto his knees, as if he was bracing for the pain. Kohga flipped through another page, not struggling to find another dirty page.

“Ooh okay okay, wait guys hold on, this ones gonna be good. ‘Kohga demanded I stay in his quarters tonight. Something about not feeling safe for whatever reason. No matter, I was determined to keep him safe. Little did I know, he wasn’t safe. Not from me. Master Kohga was asleep, and his mask was nudged. I saw his lips. I saw that they were luscious, soft as the clouds and pretty as a flower petal. I should’ve looked away. I should’ve covered him back up. I didn’t. I’m such a disgrace, I started to touch myself. I was sitting there in the corner, wanking off like a damn ape, picturing Kohga’s lips on my own. It was awful, but it felt SO good. Even as Kohga grumbled in his slumber, I felt only more and more aroused. Even as I write, my cock throbs at recalling just how it was possibly one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I found myself cumming all over Kohga’s mask. Ribbons of cum littered his mask, and I was thankful that I was able to get it off. Master Kohga must never know. No one must never know that I defiled my Master’s body, and trust’. Hooo, Sooga! You busted a nut right on me? I think I remember this date!”

Kohga swore he was at half chub now. Dirty, dirty boy he had in his hands. The clan was eager for him to read more, prompting him to keep going. Kohga turned to the last page, and he noticed Sooga’s demeanor changed. He had shrunken down, as if he didn’t want to be seen by his peers. This was gonna be the WORST one, he could tell.

“Okay, last one guys, then we’ll spare our poor, poor Sooga. ‘I’ve done many things in my life that I am not proud of. Knowing Master Kohga has become one of them.’”

Kohga sat up at that. Hello, that was new. The amusement seemed to die down a bit at such a statement. Kohga sat up, fully paying attention, in case he was reading it wrong.

“I have known many sick minded people. From my father, to the enemies I encounter on a daily basis. But not once have I encountered someone so deranged, so on the peak of insanity, as the grand Master Kohga’.”

He wasn’t finished with the page, but the yiga clan looked damn ready to beat the shit out of Sooga. Sooga sat there in shame, not ONCE defending himself. Kohga felt his mouth dry up, but if dirty laundry had to be aired, might as well do all of it. He swallowed, and with a quiver from his voice due to the anger, forced himself to continue.

“‘Master Kohga is nothing short of a madman. He may hold everyone’s adoration, may have everyone convinced he is that like a god, but I have been unblinded, ever since the day after the party. I know the truth.’”

The clan was boring holes into Sooga’s head, and Kohga was besides himself. How could he say all of those things? Even in his stupid diary. Kohga was fully pissed now, standing up as he finished it off, ready to beat Sooga’s no good, back stabbing ass.

“‘For why else would the most beautiful, the most charismatic, the most talented man I’ve ever met, be in love with me? Someone who is far from charming, someone is such a fool to believe that someone so incredible could love him as much as he claims? Kohga had to be insane, and I must be a fool.’”

Kohga suddenly found himself standing there like an idiot, honestly unable to form words. He looked at Sooga, who refused to look back up at him. He wasn’t ashamed over his dirty fantasies (well maybe he was a little), he was ashamed over this part, right here. Kohga motioned for everyone to leave, and everyone obeyed, though they clearly looked hesitant to do so. Once the room cleared, Sooga stood up, clearly in a panic.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t want you to read me saying something so AWFUL towards y-”

He was interrupted by Kohga suddenly wrapping his arms around him in a hug, nearly squeezing the life out of him.

“I love you. I really love you.”

Sooga was unsure what to do, before he just squeezed him just as tightly.

“I...take it I’m forgiven.”

“For nearly giving me a heart attack? Barely. For the wanking stuff? Yeah. You’re so stupid, dammit.”

He was crazy. But it seems as though they both were.

#asks #kohga #sooga #lemon

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deberiaestarescribiendo · 4 years ago

Text

Saint Jude's Miracle: A Javier Peña x OFC (Isa) FanFic

Summary: After leaving Colombia and the DEA for good, Javier Peña lives a completely different life that he never expected: He's married to Isa, has a beautiful little girl, Elvira, and the perfect suburban house with a mortgage he will be paying for the rest of his life. But when he discovers a shady company acting as a front for the Mexican cartels he has to team up with his old colleagues and relive the old Javi he thought died when he gave up the gun and the badge. How will he protect his family from the violence and the horrors he thought forgotten? And how can he avoid falling again into the old habits?

A/N: Hi! This is my first ever ever Fanfic! That’s how crazy Javi Peña got me. I love his character so much and, though I really love his arc on the show, I couldn’t stop thinking about what happens after, so this is my take. This is no beta’d so it comes from my Spanish speaking brain directly to you, I’ve revised BUT surely there are mistakes, sorry!

Warnings: Domestic Javi (yep that’s a warning), smoking, mentions of anxiety, mention of violence (later chapters, I think this one hasn’t), swearing, very light smut (a bit of masturbation, kisses and all the nice stuff). Cursive for internal thoughts. Let me know if I’ve forgotten anything, thanks!

Word count: 1,5k

El conticinio

Spanish. noun: Hour in the night where everything is in silence.

He stops the car at the side of the road. The neighborhood is calm, almost dead silent at midnight. It’s a small moment of peace, interrupted only by the annoying buzz stuck inside his brain. Javier puts his face on the steering wheel, focusing only on his breathing, 4 seconds each time.

Inhale

Exhale

Inhale

Exhale

Sometimes he wishes it could always be midnight, when he’s able to stop thinking, when nobody knows him or expects something from him. Just be able to breath and leave his head empty. Finally, he stands up ready to face reality again and grabs his jacket from the copilot seat, and gets out of the car. He takes a deep breath inhaling the scent of the recently cut grass and the neighbor’s pool’s chlorine. He guesses that this counts as “breathing fresh air” as the doctor suggested in order to de-stress, but, God, Javi does want the toxic air of a cigarette inside his chest.

He had stolen an almost empty packet of Marlboros from one of the jerks at the office. Fuck him and fuck my lungs he thinks while lighting one. He gives it a long drag, the nicotine kicking fast and he sighs when the smoke gets out of him, he can even picture part of the shit that pollutes him exiting his body. It’s like an exorcism; one that he would have to do many times a day if he really wants to expel all his demons, and one that would eventually kill him.

He finishes smoking in silence in front of the house. His home is a two-story, white painted house that he will be paying for more years than he expects to live.

Savoring the last puff he throws it on the pavement and steps on it before heading inside. He tries not to make any sound when he enters his home. Leaving the jacket and the shoes in the kitchen, he sees the rest of lasagna waiting for him on the table carefully covered with cling-film. Surely Isa thought he was coming earlier and that he would be hungry, suddenly he feels a little bit guilty. He had forgotten to call her and warn her.

Carefully he climbs the stairs trying not to step on any toy. Elvi is a good kid, but she can create a mess in an instant and leave the house as if a tornado had come in. To the right, the pinkish light shines of stars and moons all over Elvira's room. She hugs her unicorn plush and sleeps with her lips parted, peacefully. Javi gets in the room and kisses his daughter softly on her crown and runs his fingers through her dark and soft hair. She smells of Johnson&Johnson shampoo and that sweet particular scent that is only hers and that reminds him of when she was just a baby.

Inhale

Exhale

Fuck I missed her. He should be arriving earlier so he can see her awake and hug her tight and listen to whatever she did during the day. He certainly enjoys watching those big brown eyes shine bright when he comes through the door. A warm feeling he thought he would never feel or certainly that he doesn’t deserve to have. But here they are; a suburban family. Who would have thought?

He approaches the master room up front less enthusiastically. He doesn’t want to wake his wife up. Elvira is aware of his absence but she is content with whatever attention her dad gives her, and for now, Javier is the greatest father in the world. Winning the title for “greatest husband” is a tougher task.

The small light on her nightstand illuminates Isabel asleep tugged under the covers like a small ball, with her knees close to her chest. She breathes slowly, her long black hair over the pillows, he is tempted to kiss her head as he did with his child but the docile and sweet image of his wife sleeping is a completely different version of her being awake. He just turns off the lamp and proceeds to undress in complete silence. The bed creaks under his weight and she moves a little but continues to sleep soundly when Javi gets under the covers. His back hurts when the tightness in his muscles begins to soften over the mattress.

"You're late" Isa says her voice muffled by the pillows.

"Shh, I'm home, good night" Javi whispers to calm her.

With her eyes still closed she turns sluggishly towards him and passes her left arm over his chest resting her head on his shoulder.

"Where were you?"

"I had to stay for an op"

He pats her hair and adjusts himself to find a comfortable position, his lower back killing him with every movement.

"An op?" She opens her eyes abruptly. Shit. He could have said any other thing; he could’ve lied as it’s begging to be the routine.

"Just to counsel" he closes his eyes to make her understand that the conversation is over.

"To counsel you had to stay until late at night?" She is raising her head now, eyes fixed on him squinting.

"Well, raids are usually at the most inconvenient time, you know" Bad time to play smartass, Peña he thinks

"Javi..." The room is dark but he can sense her honey eyes turn greenish, it happens every time she gets mad.

"I swear"

She rubs his belly softly and lays her head again on his chest with a grunt. For a moment he thinks she has decided to leave it there, but she brushes her nose and lips over his neck, smelling him.

"You have smoked" he tries to ignore her by faking being asleep, but she taps him on his right shoulder.

"Javier"

"They were smoking in the car"

"What?" She sits on the bed, arms crossed over her chest

"Elvira's sleeping, don't shout" he hushes her knowing damn well it’s going to get her even madder.

"That's two lies you've told me in less than 2 minutes, Javier"

"I'm not lying" he arises a little with a grunt. Here we go again, shit

"You told me that: one" she raises one finger "you were going to counsel the police from time to time. And now you tell me you were on a raid? And second" she raises another finger "you think that I'm an idiot that I don't know that you've smoked?" Isa turns to face him, she frowns and Javier can feel her feet tapping nervously under the sheets.

When he doesn’t answer right away she adds "you know what the doctor said"

"I know"

"Then?"

Javier knows better as to answer that with any kind of excuse. He knows also why she gets that angry at him; she cares, deeply. She loves you, idiot, don’t know why or how it happened, but she does, he thinks

He approaches her stroking her arms, and resting his head on the space between her collar bone and her neck. She is stiff and doesn’t react to his touch. Her face contorted with her gaze avoiding him.

"I'm sorry" he kissed her earlobe. “Really sorry” he repeats, with every apology he plants a kiss on her frown, her cheeks, her nose and her lips.

"So very sorry" he brushes softly his lips over hers but she closes hers tightly.

Sighing, Javier hugs her from the side and draws circles with his fingers over her cleavage and then trails downwards over her sternum to finally place his hand on her stomach. “I should have told you. I apologize, Isa” He begins to rub his palm over her hips bones and the hem of her silk nightgown comes higher and higher revealing her underwear.

"You have some nerve" Isabel blurts out, but Javi can feel her heart already beating faster.

"Let me make up for it" Javier strokes the lace elastic band of her panties with his index finger. His brown dark eyes look at her expecting her refusal, but she bites her lower lip and moves her hips against him impatiently. Her husband rushes to kiss her and this time she parts her lips welcoming him with eager moans.

"I’m still mad" she moans

One of Javi’s hands softly brushes her core over the fabric feeling her heat and arousal.

"I think you've missed me" he grins on her ear.

Isabel rolls her eyes at his proud expression and shuts him up crushing her lips onto his, savoring him with her tongue.

Javier increases his touch slipping her panties to the side. But suddenly, Isa takes control and straddles him; her eager kisses cover their moans while she lowers her hands towards his briefs.

"Don't ever lie to me again"

"Yes, ma'am"

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña Fanfic #Javier Peña x OFC #Narcos #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #Javier Pena #Javier Pena Fanfic #narcos fanfic #narcos #Javi Peña #Javi Pena

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hollyxqx · 5 years ago

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ALWAYS : NAMJOON : EPILOGUE

↪ PAIRING: Kim Namjoon x Reader ↪ GENRE: idol!au | ex’s to lovers | angst | smut ↪ SUMMARY: the story of how almost divorced, disgraced idol kim namjoon tries to put his life back the way it was after the world found out he was married and had a kid. ↪ WORD COUNT: 6k

↪ WARNINGS: angst angst angst, smut, nj has a mild pregnancy kink, oc body shames themselves a lot, milddddd drug references, tooth-rotting fluff

a/n: sorry this was delayed but here it is! thank you for being so patient and i really hope yall enjoy/are satisfied with the ending . my ask is always open if you have any questions or comments :):)

ONE : TWO : EPILOGUE

By day number four of avoiding Namjoon you knew it was time to relent and at the very least speak to him. Days one through three were spent using your mom's house as a temporary hideout. You knew there was a million questions whirring around in her head at your surprise visit, but you kept quiet, merely stating you wanted a break. She had given you the kind of look that was equal parts disapproving and disappointed, in only the way a mother could combine those expressions. It made you wonder if you made that face too.

Namjoon had called and texted everyday, each time begging you to talk to him. Your fingers would itch over the messages, tempted to just give in. You hated this as much as he did. After finally, finally, getting what you'd wanted for years - your family whole - it felt like it was slipping through your fingers again.

It was a loss you weren't sure if you could endure again.

Siwoo sat happily on his play mat, toy car in hand while you kept a careful watch on him. He had a tendency to put things in his mouth that didn't belong there, so you made sure to pay attention.

You were extra thankful for him as of late, your ray of sunshine in these dark few days. Though, when he went to bed in the evenings everything hit you the hardest, raw and painful. You'd had such little sleep in the last few days it was a miracle you were functioning as well as you were. Months of sleepless nights when Siwoo was a newborn had trained you well, you supposed.

The tea in your mug had gone cold and it tasted as bitter as you felt. You had gone back and forth several thousand times about whether you were over-reacting or not. The initial knee jerk reaction you have is to run when things get difficult. You'd been that way your entire life, often times to your detriment.

Over the course of your entire relationship with Namjoon that had been a recurring issue. Every argument, every fight, squabble, disagreement or otherwise, you were the one that bailed. The one that needed time to cool off. Which ultimately led to you filing for divorce in the end. Maybe it was time to confront your issues instead of running away from them.

The doorbell rang exactly at four p.m, signalling Namjoon had arrived. He knew the passcode and could easily enter if he so much as wanted to, having done so for the last few months. But you knew Namjoon. This was a way of showing you some respect, showing you he was giving you your space and would wait for you to come to him when you were ready. The same pattern as always.

With a heavy heart you trudge to the door, nursing your still cold tea. When you open the door Namjoon stood on the other side, looking as awful as you felt. "Hi." He said quietly, rubbing a sheepish hand over his unshaven face.

"Hi."

You step to the side, allowing him to cross the threshold into the apartment. A surprised, hesitant look crossed his face but he stepped inside regardless.

"Siwoo is in the living room." You told him, straight to the point. He nodded. After all, that was the reason he was here. You were forced out of your silence because you'd never keep his child from him, no matter how bad things got between you.

You hung back in the kitchen and busied yourself with making another cup of tea that you didn't particularly want. It was just an excuse to hide and you knew it. Coward that you were.

You could hear Siwoo's delight at seeing Namjoon as you waited for the kettle and it made your heart ache. He had missed his dad, having been used to his presence much more. The guilt it caused you plagued you constantly, since you were the reason for the separation.

Namjoon appeared in the kitchen a few moments later, Siwoo perched on his hip. A small smile escaped you at the grin on your son's face as his tiny head rested against Namjoon's chest. He still clutched the toy car.

"I'm all set to go." Namjoon announced. He shifted somewhat awkwardly. "Unless you want to..."

"Not yet." You didn't know exactly what he had in mind but you weren't ready for that talk at this moment in time.

He nodded, looking disappointed. "Will I still see you on Sunday?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't you? You're not keeping Siwoo forever." You knew instantly what you said had been far too harsh and definitely out of line. Namjoon's face flashed with pain. "I don't mean it like it that - " You attempted to explain that you weren't infact referring to your son as an object but you were cut off.

"I thought you might send your mom or Jess or anyone else in the world to do it." He informed you.

"It'll be me on Sunday, Namjoon."

"Can we have dinner then? If not for me, for Siwoo." He asked expectantly. You didn't have the heart to refuse him again, not when he looked at you with that desperate longing in his eyes.

"Okay. Dinner, then."

*** Standing outside Namjoon's extravagant house two days later you felt sick, absolutely sick to your stomach, throw up in a hedge nauseous. The combination of nerves, the secret pregnancy and the fact that the last time you were here was one of the worst days of your life had bile creeping up your throat.

When Namjoon finally answered the door, you hurried past him to the bathroom, muttering something about needing to pee. He could only watch you with a bewildered expression, clearly he'd expected a repeat of the awkward interchange from the other day.

You made it to the toilet just in time, praying he didn't hear the sound of you heaving your guts out over the porcelain. As you borrowed some of his mouthwash and cleaned your hands you debated what lie to feed him. Thankfully it wasn't the morning so you hoped you'd be able to get away with food poisoning as your excuse.

You returned to a worried Namjoon. "Are you ok? I heard you throw up." He asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I think I've just got food poisoning."

He stared at you curiously for a beat. "Do you want to lie down before dinner? It won't be ready for another 45 and I'd rather you felt alright."

You shook your head no. "Thanks Joonie, but I'm okay."

His expression softened at your use of his nickname, he hadn't heard it in a while. You didn't intend to use it but it slipped out so naturally. Especially when he was concerned about you.

The kitchen smelled incredible as you entered. Namjoon didn't cook often being the clumsy chef that he was, opting for takeout usually, sometimes multiple times a day. "What are you making? It smells good. Hi boop." You gave Siwoo a cuddle from behind as he sat in his high chair. He squealed with joy in your arms. "Mommy missed you."

"Lamb curry." Namjoon stated. "And just plain pasta for the kiddo."

"And how much has Seokjin helped you with all this?" You couldn't help but tease. Namjoon smirked.

"Alot." He turned away from you to fuss with the pot on the stove. "I wanted to do something nice for you. Figured you'd appreciate the effort."

You made a non-committal noise as you slotted yourself into the chair next to your child, still feeling a little queasy. It was silent until Siwoo's food was ready when Namjoon offered to feed him for you, but you declined. You were happy to do it. He could mostly feed himself anyway but sometimes needed a little help.

With nothing more to do for the time being Namjoon sat opposite you. You could feel his eyes on you but you deliberately kept your own on Siwoo. "What did you boys get up to then?" You murmured, trying to get Siwoo to eat with his small cutlery and not his hands. "The food is hot Siwoo, use this."

"Nothing too exciting. Mostly swimming, I've got the pool up and running again. That kid is a water baby through and through."

You nodded in agreement, having witnessed it first hand yourself. Ever since he figured out what water was you could barely keep him away from it, essentially making bath time a messy affair. "He especially loves your pool since you got that slide."

"I did it for him."

"I know."

Namjoon stood after a while and went to the cupboard, taking out two wine glasses. He placed one in front of where you sat, setting the other at his side of the table. "I got your favourite sauvigon blanc. The one from the top shelf." He mumbled, corking open the bottle he'd grabbed. "Here."

He began pouring you a glass. "Oh no, no thanks, I'm not dri - Siwoo don't throw your pasta."

Namjoon stopped mid pour, raising his eyebrow at you, ignoring the macaroni that hit the floor. "No wine?"

"My stomach still doesn't feel right." You lied, giving him an apologetic look. "Better avoid the alcohol."

"That's not like you." He paused giving you a curious look. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I just don't want to drink. I'll be driving again soon anyway."

He didn't know that you physically could not and would not touch alcohol due to tiny life that was growing inside you. The tiny life you still didn't know what the fuck you were going to about. Your stomach flipped anxiously.

"Okay." He said staring at you for a little too long. He swapped your slightly filled glass with his empty one. Namjoon poured sparkling water in yours in lieu of the wine. You knew he knew you were lying about something, but he said nothing, still on emotionally shaky ground with you. You wondered if he had anticipated you staying the night to offer you alcohol.

When Siwoo had finished eating and all the pasta had been cleaned from the floor you put him down for a nap. It was cute how sleepy he always got after food and it was nearing his bedtime anyway, heavy eyelids drooping as he sipped on water.

The only evidence that Namjoon even had a child was Siwoo's bedroom, the rest of the house looked like it belonged to a bachelor. As you walked through the vast space you found yourself getting somewhat irrationally angry about the fact. No wonder that girl felt so comfortable here. You found yourself scowling when you sat back at the dining table.

"What?" Namjoon asked, sensing instantly the shift in your mood.

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"You're one to talk." You shot back. He sighed.

"Don't be like this just because Siwoo isn't here. Can't we keep being civil?"

"Fine." You mumbled.

He dished the food and you ate in stony silence. The sound of the cutlery scraping on the plates soon became deafening to you, grating on you and worsening your mood. Namjoon had asked you to be civil but that girl hadn't been to you, or to him for that matter and that was the only thing on your mind as you ate. The hormones raging through your body were certainly making you more quick to anger than usual.

"Is it okay?" Namjoon asked, pointing to your plate with a fork. "The food."

"Perfect, thank you." You replied. He looked crestfallen at your curt reply.

"Can we talk properly tonight jagi?" He asked.

"Don't call me that." Instantly you were transported back to the night when this mess started, the night you slept together for the first since breaking up. You'd had almost that exact exchange, although it was a playful one and didn't have the sombre atmosphere his kitchen had.

"All I really need is for you to listen." He sighed. "Can you do that for me?"

You owed it to him at least. "Alright."

He inhaled a deep breath before releasing it slowly, as if he was unsure where to begin. "I didn't cheat on you. I wasn't lying about that. If you take anything away from this conversation, please let it be that." His gaze was so intense you couldn't help but believe him.

"Did she kiss you that day?"

"Yeah." He looked down with a grimace. "I didn't initiate anything, she lunged at me. It was an attack."

"She called you Joonie."

That caught his attention and he looked at you in surprise, eyebrows shooting towards his hairline. "That bothered you?" You nodded.

"It didn't feel like a casual hookup, Namjoon. She seemed very familiar with you. She was in your home calling you what me - your wife - calls you." You voice got higher the more emotional you got, tears burning your eyes. Namjoon shushed you gently, telling you to calm down. "And then there was the other girl from the pictures. What do you do to these women to make them think this behaviour is ok?"

Namjoon gave you an infuriatingly blank look. "That was the girl I was papped with."

"No it wasn't." You sniffed.

"Baby," He huffed an incredulous but humourless laugh. "I promise you. Crazy girl from the photos is crazy girl that was here. Those pictures were dark, you probably just didn't recognise her."

"Why does she keep showing up?"

"We did hook up, but once a long time ago. I made the mistake of taking her home. I saw her once after that, but we didn't have sex. Other stuff happened, I won't lie."

You felt uncomfortable, hot, prickly jealousy constricting in your chest. "I don't need details."

"I don't really remember it to be honest. I was wasted." He explained further. "She turned out to be a big fan of mine and was - is - having a hard time dealing with the fact that I don't want her. That's it. That's the story. I swear."

You searched his eyes with your own for a few moments and he held your steely gaze.

"You could get a restraining order." You grumbled.

"They're not as easy to get as you think."

You crossed your arms and looked away. Although you believed every word he said you still weren't happy. Maybe it would take more than a conversation this time.

"Anything else you want to know, just ask." Namjoon told you softly. His hand twitched on the table and you could tell he wanted to reach for yours. "I'm an open book."

You knew exactly what was niggling at your conscious. "What else have you lied about?"

He paused for a moment and your heart dropped, anticipating the absolute worst. "I once jerked off to a picture of your feet."

Your scandalized expression was enough to have him laughing, easing some of the tension in the room. "I'm serious!" You scolded.

"So am I." He smirked and you rolled your eyes. "I'm sorry baby, I just wanted to see you smile."

"You're ridiculous."

He stood and walked round the table, taking your hand in his forcing you to stand. He pulled you into a hug and your arms automatically wrapped around his waist. "Am I forgiven?" He mumbled into your hair.

"No." You said but your body contradicted your words, melting even further in to him. "I'm still angry at you for lying and nearly dying of an overdose too. It's scary to think you can keep such things from me. I'm waiting for the next lie now Joonie."

He squeezed you tighter. "I understand, I do, but does a tiny part of you not see why I would hide those things from you? It was to stop you from getting hurt."

"I guess." You know he has a point and you do feel better for having this talk with him but jumping back to fully trusting him feels frightening. You hate being vulnerable and right now, that's what you are.

"All I want is for us to be together, and whatever you need me to do to get us there, I'll do it." He said with strong conviction.

You surprised him by standing on your tiptoes and pecking his lips, his eyes remained open in shock. "You're a good man, Namjoon. I'm lucky I have you." He smiled. "But if you ever lie to me again, I swear to god I'm done."

"Never." He swore.

***

It took three more nights of intense conversations with Namjoon before your relationship started to return to normal. Getting everything out in the open was a little painful for your both but once everything that had happened during your separation was no longer shrouded in darkness, you felt better. You both did.

Namjoon had bravely opened up about how he struggled with pills and drugs. You'd learned he'd been partying a scary amount and that's where he met 'crazy girl'. Apparently she was a big party girl and drug user herself, which made sense, considering her erratic behaviour. She was an amateur model and had access to a lot of free drugs, so Namjoon was unfortunately drawn to her.

It wasn't exactly easy nor fun to hear about the women that he'd been with. It was with an embarrassed flush to his cheeks that he admitted a lot of his hook ups had been a blur of nameless faces. He wasn't proud of it, he'd never been a guy who fucked around, even before you met.

You were surprised to learn he'd spent time in rehab. Mostly it was just therapy but it allowed him to be in a better state mentally and therefore able to cope. Namjoon had got teary when you told him that you were proud of him. It wasn't easier to better yourself and succeed. He told you it was all for Siwoo and you understood that fierce protective desire completely.

During the third night, when you lay in Namjoon's bed, each on your side and facing each other you realised it was time to come clean about your secret now. You squeezed your entwined hands that lay on the pillow between your heads. "Namjoon, in the spirit of being honest...I need to tell you something."

"What is it jagi?" His brow furrowed at your tone.

You gulped. "I'm pregnant." He was silent and his expression never changed, which immediately worried you. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner but I was going to do something cute by just giving you the sonogram instead of doing it in this lame way, but -

" - That's amazing." He interrupted your nervous rambling. A grin started to spread on his face.

"Really?" You asked cautiously.

"Are you joking? It's fucking great news!" He exclaimed. Namjoon let go of your hand and quickly placed his large palm on your lower stomach. "How far along?"

"Only 9 weeks." You playfully shoved his hand off of you. "You won't be able to feel anything yet." You laughed.

"I'm excited. I knew something was up when you weren't drinking and throwing up." He admitted. "It's going to be so different this time round. So much less stress and worry. We can actually enjoy your pregnancy."

"I'm excited that you're excited." You said. "I was scared to tell you. After everything we went through..."

"It's going to be different this time." He repeated. He kissed you passionately, lips crashing against yours as if he was trying to show you just how much he meant his words. Arms snaked around your torso as he held you close. "We're going to have two kids soon." He murmured. "Are you ready for this?"

"Nope." You laughed and he joined you. "But I wasn't ready the first time and we managed."

This time when he kissed you, you could feel him smile against your lips. "This feels like a dream. I'm so happy." He managed to get out in between presses of his mouth against yours. You were elated. "Can't wait to see you pregnant again."

"You mean, fat." You corrected.

"Noooo," He groaned, frustrated. "You looked so sexy when you were pregnant before." His hands slid underneath your shirt, along your stomach to cup and squeeze at your breasts. "You had big ass boobies." You can't help but laugh, he was like a horny teenager when it came to boobs. "Filled with milk for my baby."

His thumbs brushed against your nipples and you stiffened at the sensation. He kept repeating the action and you could feel a dull ache in your core at the sensation. "s'feels good." You murmured, trying to concentrate.

"Yeah?" He pulled back a little to gauge your expression. "Can I keep going?"

You nodded, appreciating the fact that he was asking for permission since you hadn't slept together since your argument. He peeled your shirt from your body and leaned down to plant kisses all over your breasts, thankful you weren't wearing a bra to bed. A dreamy sigh escaped you as your hands carded through his hair.

"D'you know what else I liked about you being pregnant?" He said huskily, still fondling you.

"Tell me." You had felt insecure at the time, and had been feeling it again after seeing the model you knew Namjoon had slept with. Some reassurance would be welcome.

"You were swollen in all the right places." The heel of his palm began to grind down slowly against your panties, having worn only those and a shirt to bed. Namjoon's lips wrapped around a nipple and your pussy pulsed in response. "The curve of your stomach, hips and ass was so fucking sexy."

"Really?"

"Mhmm," He hummed and your underwear was moved to the side. "It was sexy because you looked like a woman. Not just a hot girl." His fingers moved in slow circles against your clit and you feel yourself growing wet especially fast. "And you were off-limits to any other man than me. I put my baby in you and every other man could see it."

"Fuck, Joonie." You whimpered after he hit one particularly sensitive spot, hips jolting slightly. "I didn't know you had a pregnancy kink."

He smirked against your skin, his breath fanning across as he laughed a little. "Me neither, until I saw you."

Briefly he stopped to pull the remnants of your clothing off leaving you fully naked. "Namjoon?" You asked hesitantly, feeling shy. He hummed in response, sliding his fingers into your wet heat once more. Something had been playing on your mind this entire time. "That girl was beautiful."

He groaned. This time it wasn't a sexy groan. "Don't talk about her when I'm touching you like this."

"I keep thinking about her. She's prettier than me." You admitted. He stopped what he was doing, gripping the bottom of your chin, forcing you to face him when you tried to hide the fact that tears were welling in your eyes.

"She's nuts."

"You didn't disagree with me." You pouted. He sighed. "I'm feeling really insecure right now. I'm about to have another kid and my body is going to be wrecked, again. And girls like that are incessantly throwing themselves at you."

"I don't think she was prettier than you. And even if I did, who cares? She isn't beautiful where it counts. I just told you how sexy I think you are and you still don't believe me." He looked sad, it made you feel guilty.

"Sorry I'm being stupid." You mumbled.

"Don't be afraid to tell me when you're feeling like this, I don't want you to feel bad while I'm trying to make you feel good." He insisted. "Just remember that what I feel for you is so much more than how you look. But you're sexy, you're pretty, you're kind and you're an amazing mom. I'm so attracted to you that I'm still hard even through all this just because I'm near you and you're naked." He laughed, guiding your hand to his crotch for emphasis. He wasn't totally hard but that was an erection if you ever felt one.

"I love you so much." You told him sniffling. "Sorry for being a moodkiller. I'm hormonal and emotional right now."

"Tell me about it." He teased. "Can we carry on or are you out of it completely?"

You answered him with a kiss.

He took his time with you that night and you knew that extra effort came entirely from a place of pure, authentic and true love in his heart. Namjoon ate you out until you were a mess beneath him, able to coax two orgasms out of you before agonizingly pushing his stiff length into you.

Whispered praise in your ear made you feel desired in a way like you hadn't experienced before. He cradled you as he fucked into you, encouraging you to keep your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locked around his lean body.

"Don't think I could never want you, especially like this." He breathed into your ear, slowly pounding into you. "You're the love of my life."

"Joon..." You moaned, tears stinging your eyes, leaking onto the pillow. You were too emotional right now for sex like this. "Please." You begged.

"Tell me you love me, tell me how good I'm making you feel." He commanded as his hips slapped into you faster this time. All you could think about was his bare skin against yours while you clung to him as if your life depended on it. Every drag of his cock inside you felt like you were made for him.

"I do, I love you so much." You moaned. "You're perfect. No one has ever made me feel like this."

When he came he groaned loud enough that you were certain he woke the sleeping child in the next room.

Your suspicions were confirmed when the pitter patter of tiny feet echoed down the hall. Namjoon leapt away from you so fast, he tangled himself in the sheets and fell over, emitting a loud curse word.

Once Siwoo had been successfully put back to bed (and escaping unscarred, having seen nothing a three year old shouldn't witness) you and Namjoon stifled silent giggles. "I guess I enjoyed that a little too much." He laughed, getting comfortable to sleep.

"Top 5?" You asked, climbing into bed beside him. It was a running joke between you about your favourite sexy time moments. You don't remember when it started and it's hard to remember every single time but there are definitely some stand out moments.

"Top 10." He yawned. "It would be higher up, but I hit my shin pretty hard when I tripped."

"I love you, you clumsy idiot." You whispered, kissing him on the nose.

"I love you too baby."

***

You loved how Siwoo looked in his father's arms. Really, you should gently remove him from the tight embrace Namjoon held him in so he could sleep properly but the sight of the two asleep on the sofa was turning you to mush. They both slept with their mouths hanging open in the exact same way, the only difference was Namjoon snored lightly.

You couldn't resist and snapped a few pictures.

As you watched them you were glad you couldn't move on whilst you were technically single. Even a small part of you regretted attempting to even be with anyone else when this was the only man you wanted right here.

You thought of Mark and the other two guys you'd dated and how empty you had felt, how you'd had to force feelings most of the time. Actions speak louder than words and the fact that neither of you had been able to get close to moving on spoke volumes.

Namjoon was home and always had been.

***

Early pregnancy was a lot more tiring than you remembered this time around. With Siwoo, you'd been relatively lucky and for the most part it had been smooth sailing. New baby was not giving you an easy ride. You'd convinced an overbearingly concerned Namjoon you were well enough to go for a walk but the five times he'd already asked if you were alright showed his worry.

His hand laced through yours as you strolled through a park near your home. It had a beautiful selection of cherry blossom trees, a long time favourite spot of yours. It was his suggestion to get some fresh air after morning sickness had claimed the first half of your day.

The occasional stray blossom petals floated through the air, giving the worn path a story book feel. Even though you weren't 100% you were glad you'd made the choice to go outside, the fresh air smelt sweet and calming.

"Jagi, I've been thinking." Namjoon announced, opting to sling an arm over your shoulder instead. You realised it was the first time he had ever been able to be affectionate with you in a public space. You leaned in closer to his side.

"Do tell."

"Let's have a wedding."

You looked up at him, perplexed. His gaze remained straight ahead. "We had one. You should remember, you were there."

"That wasn't a wedding, that was standing in an office." He corrected with a scoff. "What I'm trying to say is lets have a big celebration. One all our friends can come to. Would you like that?"

"Maybe? I don't know. I've never thought about it." You mused. "That could be fun."

"I thought it could be like an official fresh start. We never had the chance to do it like everyone else." He shrugged. "Only if you want to though, baby."

"I think I want to." You smiled. Namjoon hummed a good, squeezing your shoulder affectionately. You carried on in a comfortable silence.

"One more thing," He said after a few moments. "You need this back."

A hand slipped into his pocket and out came a small jewellery box. Without having to peek inside you already know what it contains. The ring you had given back in a fit of anger nearly a few weeks ago. He flicked the box open and offered it to you. "You're not going to get down on one knee?" You joked. He rolled his eyes.

Willingly you accepted it from him and put on the ring. "I had it cleaned for you."

You admired the silver that adorned your hand for a moment before handing him back the box. "Thank you."

The two of you didn't talk much more as you finished your route through the park. You didn't need to. Everything he'd done for you (and not just today) had said enough.

***

"Siwoo, I have told you to pick up these toys five times now!" You yelled down the hallway, exasperated by your seven year old's will to ignore simple instructions. After escaping the infamous terrible two's with him you noticed he was barrelling to being a defiant child. You raised your voice a lot more these days. "Don't make me tell you again!"

You knew it was futile by the distracted Yes Mom that he replied with. You instantly could tell he was either playing video games or on youtube, both his new favourite pass times. As you attempted to grab a ready made bottle, a loud smash came from the living room and you hurried through, worry clenching your chest.

"Oh baby girl..." You cooed once you'd noticed what had caused the noise. Your two year old, who was just figuring out that she could walk had accidentally smashed a picture frame when she'd tried to use the coffee table for balance. "I left you alone for half a second and you're trashing the place." You sighed to her.

Quickly you checked her over, ensuring she was unharmed. She was. Gently, you slung her over your hip, this time taking her to the kitchen with you. She struggled the entire time, eager to get back to her new found freedom of walking. However as soon as she realised she was getting fed, her mind was quickly changed.

The sound of Namjoon arriving home caught your attention. You were glad he was home. As much as you loved your children, an entire day alone with them was harder than any job you'd ever worked. You were still between nanny's and were picking the slack up yourself.

"There's my girls." You could hear the smile in his voice before you saw it. Namjoon reclined in the doorway, watching you and Eunha, an enamoured look on his face. He crossed the room, kissing her first on the cheek before meeting your lips in a peck. "Where's Siwoo?"

"Bedroom," You sighed. "Tell him to get his toys please." Namjoon nodded, able to read your frustration straight away as his phone and keys where placed on the kitchen counter. He left to do what you'd asked of him.

Once you'd managed to get Eunha down for bed, you joined Namjoon and Siwoo who were picking the toys up together. You picked up the smashed picture frame that you'd momentarily forgotten about, smiling at the image. It was an official photo from your 'second' wedding, you and your husband smiling like lovesick kids with Siwoo between you, looking adorable in his tiny suit.

It had been a wonderful day, being able to celebrate properly with your loved ones. The day had been a blur, but the best kind of blur; ending it with sore cheeks from smiling so much.

"What's that?"

Namjoon's question brought you back to the present. You flipped the picture frame round to show him it was broken. "Courtesy of Eunha on one of her missions."

"You look so pretty in that picture Jagiya." Namjoon stretched over and kissed your cheek. Neither of you missed how Siwoo's face screwed up in disgust at the sight of his parents kissing. A knowing smirk was shared between you and your husband.

"Thank you for that boop!" You kissed your son's head when he was finished the task. It was frightening how tall he was getting, you suspected he would be taller than Namjoon when he was older. He trudged back to his room grumbling about how he was too old to kiss his mom. You couldn't help but laugh.

Namjoon wrapped his arms around you as soon as you were alone, kissing you properly this time. "How was your day?" He asked quietly against your lips.

"Long." You sighed, resting your head on his chest. "You?"

"Busy."

Lately he had been putting in more and more hours at the recently expanded studio. Ever since Yoongi had started a family of his own they'd even hired an entire crew of people. Things couldn't be better for your husband's career and you were more than thankful how lucky the two of you had been.

His hand stroked the back of your hair lovingly. "The best part of my day is coming home." He yawned, holding you tight. You hummed in agreement, that was the highlight of your day as well. Ten years total together and that had never changed.

Not one moment was taken for granted anymore and when all was said and done, you knew you would be with him, always.

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lovecre · 3 years ago

Text

moments, part one - edemasu

masumi was heading back to the mankai dorms from school. it had been a long day, and he just wanted to rest. he was so tired he felt dizzy, as he couldn’t sleep well the night before.

suddenly, he heard a pair of familiar voices on the other side of the street. his head jerked up, searching for the source. it was izumi and eden, handing out flyers for the newest play, a tragedy story by the winter sub-troupe. he usually would pay attention to izumi and no one else, but for some reason his eyes were drawn to eden. he was wearing one of masumi’s jackets… masumi had lent him his jacket a few weeks and eden still hadn’t given it back. seeing eden in his clothes made him feel strange, like butterflies were in his stomach. he shook his head. no, he should only look at izumi. izumi was his love. right?

he hurried over to the two of them, forcing himself to only focus on izumi. don’t look at eden, he told himself, don’t look at him.

he was so focused on thinking about izumi, he didn’t notice the tiny rock in his way. he promptly tripped and fell into a puddle, much to his embarrassment.

“masumi?” came eden’s voice. masumi looked up to see eden’s worried face.

“don’t look at me,” he muttered. he heaved himself up, wobbling a bit, and refused to look eden in the eye.

“are you…okay?” eden questioned. masumi ignored his question. “don’t let izumi see me like this.” he mumbled to eden.

eden looked annoyed, for some reason. “right.” he said curtly. “we should probably get you inside so you don’t…”

masumi sneezed.

“…catch a cold.” eden finished. “are you hurt anywhere?”

“scraped my knee, but that’s it. i’ll be fine.” masumi said stiffly.

“i’ll let izumi know i’m getting you home. there aren’t many flyers left, so she should be fine.”

‘i want izumi to patch up my knee,’ a voice in the back of his head said. ‘izumi is the only one i trust, that i love.’ he shook his head. he didn’t say it out loud. lately, it seemed that eden got this slightly hurt look on his face whenever he proclaimed his love for izumi. so he didn’t say anything.

part of him hoped that izumi would abandon her duties to take care of him. the other part of him knew he would never do that.

eden walked back to him. “she said that she’ll take care of the rest. meanwhile, i’m gonna patch you up, okay?”

“fine.” he surprised himself with his own answer. why did he say that? wasn’t… izumi the only one he’d let get close?

and yet…

the two got back to the dorms, heading to masumi and tsuzuru’s room. tsuzuru wasn’t in the room, probably out doing some work to make some extra cash.

masumi sat down on the couch, shivering. he was still damp from his crash into the puddle earlier, and he felt freezing.

“here, take your jacket.” eden offered the jacket he was wearing. “now’s a good time to give it back.”

masumi peeled off the cold, wet jacket he was wearing and put on the dry one.

it smelled like eden. not in a weird way, but it smelled like the kind of soap he used. it smelled like mint, he noted.

the feeling in his stomach came back.

“i got a bandage and some alcohol. could you roll up your pants leg for me?”

masumi silently obliged, revealing the scrape. it wasn’t too bad, bleeding i it slightly, as his jeans took the most damage.

eden knelt in front of him, applying the alcohol to the wound. it stung a little, but that wasn’t was masumi was thinking about. eden’s hands were small and gentle, softly brushing his leg from time to time. his face felt hot. it was probably the cold, he told himself. after all, he wouldn’t blush at eden doing something like this, right?

after eden cleaned the scrape and patched it up, he stood up. “you should probably get some rest now. i’ll ask omi to make some soup, just in case you caught a cold.”

masumi didn’t say anything. he was too busy thinking about the feeling of eden’s hands on his leg, slight touches that tickled slightly. he didn’t know how to feel, why was his heart pounding this loudly? could eden hear it?

eden frowned at his silence. “well… call me if you need anything, i guess.” he mumbled.

“wait,” masumi found himself asking. “stay.”

eden went still, turning around with a surprised face. “oh, uh, okay.” he stammered.

eden sat down next to masumi on the couch. “do you need something?”

masumi laid down on eden’s lap. it was soft. his mind felt foggy, only barely computing what he was doing right now. “just…stay.”

eden inhaled sharply at masumi resting his head on his lap, and relaxed after a moment. “okay, i can do that.”

masumi felt so, so tired. his face was red and his heart was beating fast. surely, it was the cold he had.

he felt eden’s hands petting his hair. it felt really nice. he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

TAGLIST: @sealovinq @honeycombscereal @nyaing @catake

#♥️.txt #self insert #self ship #self shipping #selfship #selfshipping #mlm self ship #mlm selfship #trans self ship #trans selfship #edemasu

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gagmebucky · 5 years ago

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a little out of my depth on this one. don’t be too harsh! 😅

anonymous asked: pls dont shame me for this lmao 🥺 but could you write something about bucky masturbating with the reader’s panties? like he found them on her floor or something and he took them and jerked himself off with them and nutted into them oof 🥴 imma pass out

[neighbor!bucky. masturbation. doll.]

But he’s fueled by the euphoria tunneling into his very being by working your silk up and down his cock, clinched like a vice with corkscrewing motions; he’s fueled by the knowledge that hours before this, you’d been laid up in that luscious bed, legs spread, a dainty hand shoved between them—his name probably on your lips as you rubbed your fingertips against your cloth-clad clit until you doused it with your sticky essence.

in which you drive bucky to do something he ever thought he would. (includes neighbor!bucky, bucky’s pov, dirty talk via reader, masturbation.)

do not repost.

—

Bucky Barnes doesn’t do cat and mouse. Because, at the end of the day, he’s a wolf and catching a lamb is a mere matter of flashing his teeth.

There’s no need to chase because his charm is effortless. Dames are already lining up, begging him to take them to bed, so he’s never believed in needlessly pursuing another. To some guys, it’s a sport, a way to boost their ego, but to him, it’s a waste of time and he isn’t that insecure.

Until now. Until you moved in next door with your seductive looks, enthralling smile and cheeky remarks. There’s too much about you to pinpoint one specific aspect that draws him in like a ship into a storm.

Maybe it’s because when he flashed you his baby blues and rumbled your name with a naturally husky edge and laid a surefire pickup line on you but you just laughed and shook your head. Maybe it’s because he sees you everyday, getting your mail, lounging by the pool, or purposely changing in the window across from his and a figure that sexy is driving him mad. Maybe it’s because he watches the way you bewitch and throw away your many suitors in the same manner he does.

All he knows is that he wants you. On your knees, on your back, on top of him. And while he’s never had to try before, he’s positive you’ll fall like the rest. In no time, he’ll utter a few filthy litanies that’ll have your head spinning and your panties dropping.

That’s what he decides on a particular Saturday night when the speakers from your place vibrate over to his. It’s low enough that he can ignore it, but it’s loud enough that it’s not weird that it coins his attention. So fuck the former because he’s a man on a mission, and he refuses to fail.

Once he’s checked his stubbled jaw and half-hearted chocolate brown bouffant looks in the mirror, he throws something expensive and stylish on before he strides on over with determination ladening his combat boot-clad steps.

The stars are outshines by the extravagance of your little shindig. Your two-story is lit up completely, in both lights and populace. People are filtering in and out through your opened front door, laughing and smiling with the faint scent of liquor lingering in the air.

Women and the occasional guy pay him greedy glances, too intoxicated to give a damn about how obvious they’re being. Other than a cocky tilt of his lips, he gives the vaguely familiar faces no recognition. His mind is on one thing—you—and there’s a flurry of tactics he’s considering to reel you in with.

He weaves through the throng and locates your kitchen where the drinks are being handed out. Not by you, but a girl he remembers you’re pretty close to, and she blushes every time she sees him. And right now is no different.

Her cheeks burn red as he’s next in line. “H - hi, Bucky,” she breathes and nervously tucks a stray of hair behind her ear. “What would you like? There’s wine coolers, beer, vodka. . .” her voice trails off when she looks behind him, giving a nod before wordlessly scurrying off.

“Crashing my house party, Barnes?” your musically simpering voice calls and turns him around; greeting him is the sight of your alluring form adorned in a short dress. You click your tongue in a tsk and shake your head disapprovingly. “Not very neighborly of you.”

“Not inviting me to your house party? Not very neighborly of you, doll,” he retorts smoothly, the riposte matching your tone’s fluctuation while his eyes drink you in. The satin wrapped around your skin is cut low, giving him an eyeful of your décolletage, and it stops at the middle of your thighs; suddenly he’s aware how easy it would be to do away with the flimsy fabric.

You fail to suppress a smile. “Considering you fucked most of the guests here, I thought it’d be bad taste.”

His eyebrow lifts, and he casts a glance around to acknowledge he had, indeed, fucked most of your friends. “Haven’t fucked them all.” He shrugs and regards you with a confident half-smirk, adding, “Not yet, anyway.”

You titter and fold your arms, inadvertently jiggling your breasts in the process. “In your dreams.”

He licks his bottom lip and shamelessly admits, “I do dream about you, doll. A lot, actually.” Stepping forward, he crowds you against the wall. He flashes his teeth as he stares you down. “Under me, begging and moaning my name, wrapped around my cock while I pound your little pussy drippin’ full of me.”

For a moment, you‘re stunned, and he knows his words have you throbbing—the look on your face is familiar, one he‘s invoked within woman after woman. Your breathing hitches, and your eyes dilate with unmistakable desire. “Y - you wish,” you finally say in a lame attempt to laugh it off and push past him.

He catches you by the wrist, his fingers dwarfing your tiny limb, and tugs you gently in place so your back is flush against the upright surface once more. This time, both of his hands splay at the spaces between your shoulder and head, cornering you with only an inch separating your bodies.

“Yeah,” he agrees because he does—his advances are proof of that—and he’s not afraid to own up to it. “But you do, too. You want me every bit as much as I do you.” His eyes drag over your body slow and deliberate as if he can see through your very soul. “It’s obvious. The way you look at me, how your nipples are always hard, when you squeeze your thighs together and think you’re being subtle. You aren’t.” His nose almost touches yours. “Just stop it with the charade and admit that you want me, and I’ll fuck you until you’re crying and can’t stop cumming around my cock.”

You’re wavering. A battle rages in your narrowed irises, mouth slightly ajar like you’re trying to form a response. It takes a minute—going over the reason for your nonsensical resistance and debating the necessity of it all—but you figure one out, and he doesn’t know where the composture comes from when it grips you.

Your lashes flutter against your cheekbones, and you breathe a strong, “No.” Tables turned, he falters backward somewhat in astonishment, but on that same exhale, you confess, “I do want you. I want you in every way under the sun. I think about it constantly. What your hands would feel like on me instead of mine. . . if it were your fingers rubbing me to an orgasm instead of my own, or knuckle deep inside me. If I’d be able to take two of your thick fingers, or if I’d be too tight.”

Each word hits him like a punch in the gut; the sentences ooze wanton honesty, syllables drawn like honey, spoken to fan against his lips tantalizingly. Gaze transfixed on him, he can see the kaleidoscope of sinful fantasies flitting through your mind. He’s sure you can see the feral flame igniting within his.

Of course, you don’t stop. “I think about how’d you cock looks. . . feels, buried inside me, or fucking my throat. I think about how’d I’d want you to take pictures so I can see my cheeks stuffed, eyes glossy, lips wet with spit and your cum,” you say so simply one might assume you’re talking about the weather. “Most of all, I think about how I know that once you start, I won’t want you to stop even when I tell you to. I’d want you to keep going until I physically can’t, until the only thing I have to ability to do is seize up around your cock, again and again.”

Your voice has taken on a libertine rasp, translating into a sound that sends a shiver down his spine as you toss your head back and laugh. “God,” you whisper before pushing to your tippy toes, in tandem with fisting his shirt, to speak into his ear. “You should see the amount of panties I’ve ruined because of you. Really high end ones no good ‘cause I’m soaked thinkin’ about what you’d do to me if you got the chance—if I gave you one. Matter of fact, soaked one just this morning thinking about you. It’s why I’m not wearing any right now.”

Adrenaline and raw hunger flood his veins rushes to his dick. His heart thumps like a jungle drum while concupiscence roars demandingly between his ears; air expels harshly through his nostrils like a bull before charging. He follows the instinct but you dart out of reach knowingly.

“But no.” You smirk, several feet away now, preening at the way he palms himself uncomfortably through his jeans, and how his jaw ticks. “Those are just fantasies. You won’t ever get to learn what I sound like in the throes of an orgasm, James. I don’t care if I have to abuse every sex toy I have but I am not fucking you. So I suggest you pick someone else around here to be another notch on your belt and fix that—” You nod to the swelled bulge straining against denim, and you declare, “—cause it won’t be me.”

Without so much as a goodbye, you disappear into the mass of grinding bodies, leaving him painfully hard and alone.

He can’t get it out of his head. He can’t get you out of his head. An hour later, and your encounter throbs at the base of his skull in unison with an erection. Every line, the tone and the twinkle in your eyes as you said them play like a mantra but instead of calming him down, it only drives him further insane.

There’s been plenty of interests thrown his way, offers to “help” him with his not-so-little problem caged in his pants, and as tempting as they are, he can’t bring himself to. It’s pathetic, and he nearly punched a wall because seriously when did he become the type of person who’s spurred on by rejection—bittersweet rejection, as yours was.

That speech, laced with provocation though it was, should’ve been it. Right? He should’ve left, and his dick should be flaccid, and your face, name and existence should never cross his mind again. Yet, here he is, locked in your upstairs bathroom, (because there’s a line otherwise, and he ignored the sign saying do not cross in front of the stairs), unsuccessfully trying to jacking himself off.

“Fuck!” he just about snarls as his body refuses to give him relief. His third try, and he’s still hard as a rock. Being wound up is only making it worse but he can’t help it; you’re just as teasing in his mind as you are in real life. “Fuck it.”

He tucks himself in perfunctorily, shirt ruffled and button and zipper undone, and swings the door open haphazardly. He’s gonna fuck one of your friends and pretend it’s you—that it’s you who’s finally given in to let him play as pleases. And he’ll give his best performance, pull out all the stops so she’ll rave to you in the morning.

That brings a faint smile to his lips. The thought of your best friend ranting to you about how good he fucked her with every detail down to the second has him giddy, and the possibility that you'll masturbate to the hypothetical story suddenly strikes him.

Mid-walk in the hallway, intention on returning to the party and enacting his plan, he stops. He whirls around, and there, he spots it. The master bedroom—your bedroom, and your innately sultry voice echoes, “You should see the amount of panties I’ve ruined because of you.”

And he takes that as an invitation.

Because you explicitly stated not to go beyond the first level and you apparently trust the herd of drunks below, your door is unlocked; so all he has to do is twist the knob and push in, revealing your sleeping chambers in its almost immaculate glory.

Cream walls encase a room bigger than his with similarly toned furniture sitting against it. In the middle of mahogany dressers, a grand vanity and a flat screen television is your bed, framed in dark brown wood with a king-sized mattress on top, made neatly in a fluffy white comforter and throw pillows.

While everything else seems to be pristine, surfaces shining without a speck of dust in sight, items tidily put away, your floor isn’t. Although it does have a mopped sheen, it’s littered in clothing. Yours, clearly, a trail of them leading to the connected bathroom. Amid various dresses and bras, there’s a single pair of panties straddling the threshold; black cotton is displayed with the inside of the triangle panel flipped up, and dark cotton is lightened with a shimmer of residual wet.

Before Bucky can think about his next move, he’s already picking them up. He clenches the black silk in his hand and instinctively brings them to his nose. Inhaling deeply, a groan wrenches out of his throat from the scent of your feminine musk.

The olfactory sensory neurons fires to his brain until he’s left with feeling like he just took a shot of the finest liquor. It rattles him to the very bones and electrifies his insides. Smarting shocks needle across his skin while every part of him vibrates with excuritating arousal.

“Goddamn,” he half-chokes, half-growls, his chest falling and lifting raggedly because you smell so fucking good he can practically taste it. It’s uniquely you, but unmistakably stained with the universal scent of cum, and otherwise confirms what you said earlier, that you had drenched them because of him.

And he doesn’t even try to stop as he hurriedly snakes his cock from its confines. With one hand, he holds onto the doorframe; the other, with your used panties webbed across his palm, pinches himself at the girthy base. No lubricant is needed because his tip has been weeping ever since he first saw you and hasn’t stopped dribbling down his well-endowed length.

Slicked up, he grits his teeth and works the worn attire along his erection. Somewhere in his mind, he expects to fail again at self-pleasure like before, but it seems having your orgasm drenched silk swathed around him helps tremendously with that.

A tremor wracks his body, hips jutting forth in a consequential thrust. “Oh, f - fuck,” he rasps at the warm feeling prickling from the tips of his toes to his fingers. To think, he can have a harem of women on their knees for him but instead, he prefers getting more satisfaction this.

If it didn’t feel so fucking good, maybe he’d feel embarrassed—have some sort of shame for such a depraved act.

“S - shit,” he moans the curse. His forehead falls onto the doorframe, and his nails engraved crescents into the painted wood. Though he may try to muffle them with his plump bottom lip stressed between his teeth, throaty sounds wrest out of his chest and fill the room, an erotic soundtrack in junction with the wet squelching of his hand pumping his cock.

You besiege his mind, rule with an iron fist while he desperately fucks his own in lieu of you. Your face, your body, and all the turpitude he’d inflict on you because he’d want to consume you in the same way you’ve done him. He’d—he will—show you things those other guys can’t even dream of; you’ll be hooked on him like he is on you.

A fever is building rampantly within him; he heats like leather in the sun, lava boiling under his skin in preparation to explode. Every defined muscle in his body is coiled with escalating tension while his strokes are becoming sloppier and sloppier. More concentrated at his sensitive tip, he’s coated your black silk in lurid splashes of precum, sluicing your used panties so thoroughly his palm is swamped by the almost-translucent fluid.

In an embarrassing amount of minutes, the crux approaches at the speed of a comet. A mental imagining flickers through his psyche, snapshots of you, completely undone; tits bouncing as he drives inside you, your inviting lips opened in an o as you exude the prettiest moans and whimpers, his thumb strumming your clit like instrument string as he pummels your channel, the look on your face when he finally blows his load.

That thought does it.

“Shit, shit, shit—!” Sensations coalesce, and warmth frays his nerves. Your name tears pass this lips, strangled and breathy, while his hips thrust forward in completion. The volcano erupts, and stream after stream spills into the thin material for what feels like forever.

His senses skew, blurring as he rides out the highest relief he’s ever felt. Shuddering, he milks every last bit before the intensity dwindles, and he returns to reality; the reality that, yes, he had just experienced a mind blowing orgasm thanks to a measly pair of panties—your used panties.

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters to himself, softening as he tucks himself away and shoves the silk into his pocket. “I’ve really got it bad, don’t I?”

[masterlist / feedback]

#bucky x reader #bucky x you smut #bucky barnes imagines #marvel imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel x you #this is very.... ? to me because i literally cannot tell if it's hot or not or if it just comes across awkward #??#anyway i'm gonna go 2 bed for a lil bit but i wanted to post this!!#i understand if no one really interacts w this because i don't think i did it right? idk i'll try to dabble with it in the future to perfect #but for now! here we are

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lavendertwilight89 · 4 years ago

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InuxKag Week 2020 Day 7--Home Part 2

I know I missed Eastern Time cut off but it’s one minute from Monday here!

Forbidden Love

Rated E NSFW

SMUT. SMUT. SMUT.

@inukag-week @superpixie42 @lemonlushff @dangerouspompadour @keichanz @cstormsinukagblog @willowandfog @inuyashaloverforever @xfangheartx @clearwillow @umacaking @bluejay785 @smmahamazing @murdergiraffe @faulkner-blog @sapphirestarxx @swaggingtomboy @sarah-writes-stories @hnnwnchstr @wolverine1092

It had been a week since Miroku and Inuyasha had gone northward to help Koga with a demon extermination. He refused to allow her to go with him. Their fight ended with her staying behind…She was still greatly upset with him. He wouldn’t even tell her why she wasn’t allowed to go. Just basically ordered her to remain behind, forbidding her from coming. Her. Forbidden.

Pft!! What was his problem?! She ended up staying with Sango and helping her out with her three beautiful children. The twins had just turned three and their son, who was around eighteen moons, was handful. Kagome joked that Sango was going to have to pay extra attention to him around the ladies.

Sango laughed and whole heartedly agreed as he was already a little flirt. With the children so young, Sango had easily agreed to remain in the village while her husband went off to the help the villages in the north. Kagome though… She wanted to be with her mate. They hadn’t been separated since she had returned.

The day she returned, they spent the whole day with their friends. At night she beckoned him to sneak out of the hut and they ended up sleeping in the Sacred Tree after hours of talking and finally snuggled into the trunk in each other’s arms. The days that followed were similar. He never left her side and she refused to leave his. A week after her return, Miroku and Inuyasha were summoned for an exorcism… He originally refused to go until she offered to go with him. Inuyasha was skeptical but she assured him she’d let him handle it. As they packed to leave, she confessed she didn’t want to be away from him. The fear of separation was deeply embedded within her still. He told her he felt the same.

After a moon cycle of staying with Kaede (if they hadn’t snuck out to sleep in the Sacred Tree), Inuyasha finally proposed. Kagome happily accepted. Since her return he had been respectful. Sango admitted he had asked how to court her the human way. Kagome blushed at the thought. He had been so sweet, careful, and endearing. Flowers, fruits, and prepped meat were the more common things she was presented with. She honestly had wondered when he found time to find any of it because he was always so near. But he was a demon. Fast, cunning, and quick enough for her not to notice his presence was too far away from her.

He wasn’t always in her sight--between priestess training and foraging for herbs, she figured he’d prefer to nap in trees or run like he used to. She was always shocked to find some type of present waiting for her.

Inuyasha also surprised her by showing her his hut. She had fumbled over her words and was scared she had offended him by asking why he hadn’t been staying in his home. But thankfully he just chuckled and said it wouldn’t have been proper to have her stay over at his hut unmarried. Pervert. He was right though. There were already murmurs about them disappearing into the forest at night. Not that she cared. Her powers were from her pure heart. Marriage to him wouldn’t alter her--if anything, she knew it would strengthen her.

She was indeed correct. After their wedding, her training drained her less, she had been able to keep up more, and she progressed much faster. That was one of the reasons she took Inuyasha forbidding her to go with them so harshly.

She knew she was strong.

She knew she could handle it.

She knew he knew that.

What she didn’t know again was why…

“Kagome, they should be back soon,” Sango soothed.

“Sigh… I’m still mad at him Sango. I--”

“I know what he said bothered you, but I don’t think he meant it in the way you're taking it. I guarantee he had a very important reason. You know as well as I do how he hates to leave you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” she said sitting down resting her head on her knees.

“Don’t worry; I’m sure he’ll tell you,” Sango said lifting her son in her arms and walking him into his bedroom.

Kagome exhaled frustratedly. She imagined sitting him fifty billion times. That’d make her feel better. The five or ten she did get while they were fighting obviously hadn’t helped or appeased her.

“We’re back!” Miroku announced entering the hut. Sango emerged and smiled brightly walking calmly to his side to hug him while Kagome glared. She knew it wasn’t his fault she had to stay behind. But she was still jealous as all hell he went instead of her. Inuyasha’s wife. Mate. And he wanted to go with his best friend.

Shaking her head she stood and made her way to the door. She heard mummers of her name and questions but her heart was so full of turmoil and her head was fogged with thoughts caused by her overwhelming emotions she proceeded to exit the hut and finally head home to her hut without another word…

Only it wasn’t her home. Her home was Inuyasha. The hut was only a place to sleep. Just like the Sacred Tree. Just like Kaede’s spare futon. And admittedly, her old house in the future. The only place she was safe, secure, and happy was in Inuyasha’s arms. Maybe that’s why it hurt so bad he pushed her away.

She stepped into the forest and sensed him following her from behind. He obviously was keeping his distance. Good. Ignorant jerk.

Finally she was in view of their home when she stopped to turn to look at him. He looked hesitant. Nervous. She even thought she saw a hint of hurt and longing. Sighing, she took a deep breath to try and calm herself. She had honestly really missed him, even though she was extremely angry with him.

“Kagome--”

“Don’t. Just… I’m glad you’re back. Let’s just go inside,” she said defeatedly as she turned back to head inside their home.

“Kagome! You don’t understand!” he bellowed angrily.

“You’re right. I don’t,” she clipped as she entered the hut.

“Then let me explain!” he yelled following after her.

“I just said I didn’t want to hear it right now!”

“But you need to hear it!”

“I wanted to hear it before you left. For a week. But nooooooooo, you decided to just forbid me from going. I forgot that I’m you ‘property’. Tch,” she scoffed as she headed towards their bed. She didn’t care if he ate or not. Let him starve for all she cared.

“That’s not what--DAMNIT!! Will you just listen!?”

“Why??!”

“Because this isn’t four years ago!! This isn’t where we get an argument, you jump home, and we just forget about it! We’re married! Mated!! We have to fucking talk about shit!! And fuck!! Kagome! You know I’m not good at that kind of shit! Damnit! I was trying to be good about this!”

“About what?!?!?!”

“THAT YOU’RE FUCKING WHELPED!!!!!”

She was shocked into silence. That was a twist. Something she had not expected. She hadn’t noticed she missed her period. How long had it been? One, two months? Probably going on three…? Her body was frozen. Did he mean she was…? Her hands finally found their way to her perfectly flat abdomen. She finally found her voice, though it was barely above a whisper, “Pre-pregnant?”

He blushed and started cursing himself, “Son of a--damnit! I ruined it, didn’t I?” His perfect little ears flattened to his head.

She finally stepped forward and placed one hand on his chest while she kept the other on her stomach, “Are--Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure; I noticed the change in your scent the day before we were summoned. I didn’t want to tell you then run…”

“I--I’m sorry. I… I was just so hurt. I thought you didn’t want me by your side anymore. We had fought together for so long I just--”

“It’s my fault, Kagome. You have nothing to be sorry for… You know I’m not good at words. There was probably a much better way to tell you why you couldn’t come and even just now.”

“Yash,” she raised her hand from her belly and cupped his cheek. “No. I should have had more faith in you. I… I know you didn’t want to leave me. You haven’t in the year that I have returned. I didn’t trust you like I should have and let my fear and insecurities cloud my judgement. I’m so sorry,” she admitted as tears began to form in her eyes.

“Don’t cry you idiot. There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he chastised her as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Mmmmm, I missed you,” she said brushing his cheek raising her other around to encircle his neck.

“Not as much as I missed you,” he smirked leaning down to capture her lips with his. She hummed her approval. “You’re sure you’re not mad?”

“I can show you how not mad I am,” she said as her delicate fingers started to untie his obi and seductively pushed down his hakama. Before he could undo her own clothing she dropped to her knees in front of him and took as much of his cock in her mouth as she could.

He groaned and placed his hands on her head to help him remain steady from the overwhelming sensations she gave him using her tongue. She swirled it around his tip and dragged it slowly to lick up his precum before engulfing all of him again.

“Fuck! Kagome!”

She hummed, knowing it would send him over the edge between the vibrations of her throat, her mouth encompassing him fully, her tongue stroking and teasing, and her teeth softly grazing his hardened length. She knew he would burst. Clenching her thighs together as she felt herself growing wet with excitement from where their reunion was headed, she couldn’t help but realize how happy she was. How much her life had changed for the better… How she never realized her home was always with Inuyasha.

“Ka-Kagome!” he cried as he came in her mouth. She drank him up without hesitation until she felt his cock stop twitching. Wiping her mouth she smirked up at him.

“You’re a little too cocky there, mate,” he rumbled as he lifted her up into his arms and then laid her down on the futon. He kissed her hard and started to undress her after he shed his kimono and kusode. He took his time, caressing her body lightly, tracing her scars, her curves. She felt him sniff her as he licked and nibbled her body. Like he was memorizing her scent--something that must’ve changed for him to have realized she was pregnant. He had to relearn it maybe? Or maybe it egged him on. Either way, his mouth made her body light on fire. The way he dragged it down and up, it was like he wanted her to burn in flames.

His mouth found purchase on her breast and his tongue swirled around her nipple. When he fangs grasped it in a pinch, she cried out in ecstasy. His fingers swiftly dropped to pinch and circle her sensitive nub. She was close already. Her body responded to his without fail, without hesitation. He didn’t have to coax her out of a shell or try very hard to get her to achieve her pleasure. It was like he had his own secret manual to her body. But then again after a year of marriage, of course he had learned. He was a fast learner even if he lived in a world of denial half the time.

He lifted his head from her other breast after giving it equal attention and caught her lips in a heated kiss. She felt him nudge her thighs wider so he could seat himself between them. She did him one better by wrapping her legs around his waist and rubbed her swollen excited clit on his rehardened cock. They both moaned and groaned into each other's mouths as he shifted down slowly to line himself up with her entrance.

Panting, she dipped herself to start to take him inside of her making him chuckle breathly, “Impatient are we?”

“Gods, please,” she begged.

“Only because you asked nicely,” he taunted as he thrusted into her. She cried out and clutched his shoulders.

Usually things were rushed, heated, rougher, but this--this was purely making love. He went slower than normal. Not that it stalled her release, but he obviously wanted this to last. While he admitted he was not good with words, his actions made up for that and more. He worshipped her body. Inside and out. He proved to her how beautiful she was, how much he loved her even if the words rarely left his lips, he showed her how much he truly cared about her.

While they discussed their past briefly, their travels, the scars Naraku and the jewel left, Kikyo, his past growing up, hers, they gave enough to clear any form of uncertainty they had. She knew he didn’t see her as Kikyo, and he knew she knew that. She knew he loved her, a different kind of love from Kikyo. That was something she had worked past in their journey though--that he did love them both. But his love for Kikyo was as a first love, someone who he couldn’t forget. But his love for Kikyo didn’t hold a candle to what he felt for Kagome. Something he did make sure she was aware by using his words. He said it was something he couldn’t not voice; even if saying those words were difficult to provide. He wanted her to know that because Kagome had undying faith in him, loved him unconditionally, and accepted him fully, it was what had made him fall so deeply in love with her that she became the most important person in his life. While he made a vow to protect Kikyo, he couldn’t forget about Kagome. Even though he loved Kagome back then as well, he couldn’t tell her due to his duty to Kikyo.

She cried out her orgasm and her walls seized around his hardened cock. He finally was panting, holding on to make this session last as long as he could. But she wanted him to feel the undying release he was holding back. She rolled her hips and purposefully clenched her walls around him as she met him thrust for thrust.

“Ugh, Kagomeee,” he moaned as he roared his orgasm. He fell onto her body, his head on her shoulder, and his arms wrapped around her little body holding her close to him.

“Welcome home,” she said threading her fingers through his hair and rubbing his ears.

“You know… even though this is our hut…” he began.

“I know exactly what you mean. That you are my home. And I’m yours,” she said kissing his sweaty forehead.

He shifted to roll them both over so she was straddled atop of him, their bodies still intertwined. “Exactly,” he agreed, beginning another round of them expressing their love for each other. Expressing how excited he was that they were going to start a new life together.

#inuyasha x kagome #inukag #inu x kag #inukag week #day 7 home #inuyasha fanfiction

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catboymingi · 4 years ago

Text

the king cuddles one - veninder chap. 6

navi/masterlist

story masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: crack if you will, fluff; eventual best friends to lovers

word count: 5.6k

warnings: a little language

a/n: the amount of googling it took me to find this one very specific game i played in sweden last year and whose name nor rules i was able to remember... the amount of research going into this fic... it was just supposed to be a oneshot but here we are

dine [venner], de skal holde deres kæft - your friends need to shut up

the teasing looks you got from the seven other boys didn’t stay hidden to you, but you didn’t exactly pay them much mind because you were having a good time, especially now that you’d made it clear that if it was about a penalty you simply wouldn’t join the game. when they found their protests to be of no use your friends complied, mainly just glad to have you there at all. it was nice and you seemed comfortable, laughing at their jokes and pretending to be exasperated when you kept losing until mingi (who seemed to be your single-person protection squad by now) said that you got to choose the next game.

“hmm… i want to play this game i played as a child when we visited my family in finland, because i want to win for once”, you made your decision known, then went to explain the rules in the worst possible korean because you translated them word-by-word from swedish.

“i’m the king, and i start. we clap like this”, you showed them, “and we need to keep the rhythm. then, all of you have a number, right? one to eight. the one to my left is number one, the one to my right is eight. it goes like that. i start, saying ‘the king’ when we do this”, clapping your knees, “calls”, hitting your chest, “and then the number, for example ‘four’”, clapping in front of your body. “and then number four has to react by the next time we have to clap our knees, and do the same, except say a different number, of course. if they miss a beat, or if they don’t react, they come to my right and become number eight, and every number that’s higher than four moves up one, so number five is now number four, number six is number five, and so on. did that make sense?”

they nodded, thinking that it didn’t sound too hard, but found themselves surprised when it was harder than they thought. you’d never even played the game in korean, yet you were much better than they were, despite having to get used to whole new words for what you only knew in swedish. jongho had managed to catch you off guard once, removing you from the king position, but you quickly climbed your way back up. your position stayed unchallenged after that, until san complained that it wasn’t fun if they didn’t even have the chance to win since you were so good.

“that’s how i felt all day!”, you protested, but you didn’t mind stopping. your ego had been built back up, and that had been the main purpose. plus, you’d neglected eating until now, so caught up in the games that your penalty was the only thing that had been eaten since you’d arrived. it was about time to no longer neglect what the oldest had without a doubt put a lot of effort into.

the food was amazing, even though you couldn’t even try half of it, but that would’ve been the case even if you did eat meat because there simply was way too much. the boys joked around and you joined in every now and then, mainly enjoying the atmosphere. if this was what pyjama parties were usually like then you wouldn’t mind having them more often.

“pyjama time!”, yunho exclaimed once everyone was done eating, which was met with varying enthusiasm, but everyone complied anyway. hongjoong showed you the bathroom so you could get changed, saying to come back to the living room whenever you were ready, and you nodded, smiling a little. you were glad to have a moment to yourself - you’d really enjoyed the day so far, but you also were still a little worried that you were somewhat out of place, that you didn’t really belong with them as much as they belonged with each other, and everything had been so loud and so much all the time; that was part of the fun, of course, but also a little exhausting when you weren’t used to it.

you were the last to come back into the living room, which resulted in all the seats being taken by the point you entered. instead of letting you sit on the floor in front of him mingi pulled you into his lap without hesitation, putting his head on your shoulder immediately. this left you slightly surprised - it wasn’t late enough for you to expect him to be tired and cuddly like this, but then again he had gotten up somewhat early today, so maybe that was why.

“tired?”

he chose not to reply, because he didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that you’d spent enough time with tired mingi to have noticed that he got immensely cuddly and affectionate in that state, instead informing you that you were going to watch a movie.

“we haven’t decided which one yet, though”, yeosang chimed in, and the discussion that had probably already been going before you entered resumed. they managed to decide on a movie you’d never heard of before, and you didn’t exactly care too much, or so you thought. you wouldn’t have cared if the movie hadn’t had jumpscares and horror movie adjacent scenes, which, to the boys’ defense, it seemed like they hadn’t known before either. and you hadn’t exactly revealed to them how much of a baby you were when it came to horror - that was left for them to discover when the first ghost appeared, jump-scaring you, and you shrieked out and almost caused not only you but also mingi and jongho, who was sitting next to you, to fall off the couch when you jerked your body away from the screen and tried to hide your face in mingi’s chest or neck or whatever place was easiest to reach, you didn’t even care.

“you okay?” you assumed it was seonghwa that had asked, but you refused to remove your face from the tall boy’s shirt because you were not about to risk being scared like that again.

“i guess this was a bad movie choice”, san answered for you, and you frantically nodded against the redhead whose arms were wrapped around you protectively.

“did it say anything about this in the movie description?” hongjoong, it sounded like.

“i don’t think so? they should put it there. there’s children here!”, yunho, in a desperate attempt to lighten the mood again.

“hey!” by the sound of jongho’s voice it became obvious that he was one of the children.

“they’ve turned the movie off, you don’t need to hide”, a calm, low voice reassured close to your head, though quiet enough to not startle you again. and because you knew he didn’t like scary either and wouldn’t lie to you about that you slowly lifted your head, turning to face the room again.

“we’re watching moomins now and none of you have any right to complain”, you informed the boys sternly, and while they didn’t exactly know what moomins was they didn’t even try to complain because they did feel guilty for having startled you like this. even when you searched for the movie you’d started with mingi earlier that week you refused to leave said boy’s lap; you hated to admit it, but you probably wouldn’t be able to sleep that night.

the movie that you had chosen and that you could vouch would not scare you in the slightest did manage to calm your racing heart a little, enough for you to be able to act like a normal person when after the movie they decided to play some kind of “get to know you”-spin the bottle game. the rules were easy - the one to whom the bottle pointed had to answer the last person’s question, but it was only questions that would actually aid in getting to know the others, not the usual embarrassing “who in this room do you want to kiss” kind of questions that your old friends would inevitably have asked.

it quickly became obvious to you that the game was mainly played because of you, so they could ask you questions and you could ask them, because they seemed to struggle to think of questions to ask each other. after maybe half an hour you decided to skip the bottle spinning and just have them take turns asking you a question, and you’d ask the person that had asked you. you got to know a lot about them this way, random information that might be useful at some point or maybe might be entirely useless but that still was nice to know, and they got to still their curiosity about your multicultural and multilingual upbringing. you spent hours like this, telling stories about your life, first going to bed when you noticed that it was already past one in the night. your bed was prepared in the living room, because neither you nor mingi had wanted to suggest that you’d sleep in his room, but when you were laying on the couch trying to fall asleep but feeling uneasy and weird in a strange house after having watched a horror movie-like scene earlier you wished you had. you found it impossible to fall asleep, eyes either wide open or pressed shut tightly, and when you still weren’t asleep by three you decided that you might as well embarrass yourself and try to climb into the giant’s bed if you wanted to get any sleep at all.

his door was the only one where you knew who was hidden behind it, anyway. so you got up, wrapped tightly in the blanket which you used as your shield against whatever horrors lurked in the shadows, and pitter-pattered to his room. your first knock was so silent that you barely heard it yourself, but the next one was loud enough for him to hear and maybe even loud enough to wake him up, and a little while after you’d knocked - when you were about to knock again -, you heard some grumble-hum sound from behind the door.

you opened it slightly so you wouldn’t wake anyone else up, still clinging onto the blanket with a tight grip.

“i’m scared. can i sleep here?” it was a very primary school kind of request, but he didn’t seem to mind. he just shuffled in his bed (which you heard rather than saw since you’d refused to turn on any light, horrified of attracting the ghosts which you for some reason seemed to think reacted like moths to any source of light) and you toddled over, finding it somewhat hard to lay down since you were tightly wrapped in your blanket still.

“it was that bad?”, mingi mumbled when you’d finally become comfortable, though you were still hidden away from him, the only visible part of you being your head, even after he’d covered you in his blanket also.

“mhm. i’m a baby when it comes to horror. but i’m still sorry for bothering you.”

his arm wrapped around you protectively, pulling you close to his chest, as he shut your apology down.

“you’re not bothering me. now try to sleep, and if you can’t just wake me up and we’ll go watch a movie or something.”

you had no idea what you’d done to deserve his kindness, but you weren’t complaining. you didn’t even have it in you to feel guilty right now, you were too tired. so you shuffled even closer to his warmth and the protection his presence offered, face hidden against him, but you still couldn’t fall asleep. every single sound scared you, you flinched whenever you thought you heard or felt something, and though you didn’t want to have to wake him up you figured that it was your best option.

“mingi?” absolutely zero reaction, so you tentatively removed your hand from the safety of your blanket cocoon - it was still under mingi’s blanket, but your brain told you this was danger zone, so you tried to hurry in waking him - and gently pushed the boy’s chest. this woke him, to your surprise, low grumbling a telltale sign that he was in the realm of the waking, whether he liked that or not.

“hm?”

“can we watch a movie?”

“let’s go.”

maybe you’d have to marry him. it was obvious he’d much rather sleep, and it was obvious he wasn’t even really there yet, but he didn’t even question you or complain, he just hoisted himself up, following you when you went to the living room and pulling you close to his chest on the sofa. you were between his legs again, and both his legs and arms were wrapped around your waist for maximum protection. whether this was even comfortable for him would forever remain a mystery, but you couldn’t deny that it made you feel a little safer. it was still dark outside, and especially in the somewhat strange environment you were glad about any little bit of familiarity - when mingi’s embrace had become familiarity was something you wouldn’t be able to get an answer to, but it was familiarity now.

“what do you want to watch?” his sleepy morning (night?) voice was - dared you say it? - cute. it was normal.

“just put on something cute. mingi approved and free of jumpscares.”

maybe you’d have told him not to pick a romcom, but right now you didn’t even care about that. you just watched it, and then another movie, with the tall redhead staying awake with you the entire time, showing that he hadn’t fallen asleep on you - though damn was it tempting - through bad jokes or exasperated sighs and groans when the heroine was entirely oblivious to the male lead’s feelings or little movements against you. and three and a half hours later you’d finally fallen asleep, head resting against his shoulder and him watching over you like some kind of guardian angel, except he was human and tired as shit. he kept the movies on, just watching whatever romcom netflix suggested next, trying his best to not fully fall asleep so he’d be up and ready if you wanted to go back to bed or needed anything else.

he dozed a little on and off, but was glad that he was having one of his rather awake moments when wooyoung walked in, up surprisingly early for his standards. if anything he’d have expected seonghwa or hongjoong to be up at ten, and he cursed luck for making one of the noisiest boys come in.

“wha-” ‘what are you doing here’ was what the shorter boy had meant to ask, but mingi interrupted.

“leave”, he hissed, as silent as he could while still making himself heard. you’d slept for about two hours now, and he was not about to have anyone wake you up when you looked so comfortable and peaceful and asleep in his arms. but he realised that he might have sounded a little rude, and told wooyoung to get closer with a movement of his hand, before making a ‘shh’ motion at him.

“she’s not slept all night, i’m glad she’s finally asleep”, the redhead informed his friend, who nodded in understanding.

“i can text the others and warn them”, whispering as well, because the tall boy wasn’t the only one with somewhat of a soft spot for you. though his was by far the biggest.

now that he knew others were awake and it was bright outside mingi finally allowed himself to fall back asleep, being entirely knocked out until the little blanket bundle in his arms started to shift. he growled at his sweet sleep being disturbed, though less upset when he realised that you were the reason for him being forced to re-enter the realm of the waking. you looked much better now that you’d slept some, and while he was still a little grumpy a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. waking up with you in his arms was nice, he decided. though it was the kind of thought that would have him assigned president of the simp club he couldn’t help but think, for just a moment, that he could get used to it.

“morning”, and you sounded about as sleepy as he felt, turning your head to his neck because you weren’t fully there yet and he was just so comfortable.

“you slept okay?” trying to ignore his heartbeat that had sped up when he realised just how close you were right now.

“you should get a part-time job as a pillow”, you joked. it wasn’t a very good joke, but it counted because you could feel his body shake slightly as he laughed. “how about you?”

“after i kicked wooyoung out i slept like a baby.”

“kicked wooyoung out?” you lifted your head from its position against his neck now, both of you missing the warmth almost immediately.

“he came in some hours ago, but i didn’t want you to wake. so i kicked him out.”

“wait, what time is it?”

“too late to justify you keeping the living room all to yourself”, san teased. he’d been to the bathroom and heard the two of you talk, assuming that the living room ban was now lifted since you were no longer sleeping like a baby.

“you kicked all of them out?” shock and horror that was only as prominent as it was right now because you’d just woken up.

“technically not. wooyoung messaged us to let us know not to disturb you, so that part’s on him.”

you didn’t even know what to say to that, so you opted to say nothing, sinking back against mingi who was still entirely wrapped around you.

“they’re up?” hongjoong’s head poked into the living room and, upon seeing that you were indeed up, the rest of his body appeared as well.

“i’m sorry the movie scared you that much. i hope you got at least some sleep.”

“it’s okay.” you didn’t exactly have to tell them that you’d crawled into mingi’s bed like a little child and then near begged him to watch a movie with you. they didn’t have to know that you’d been pleading to be cuddled. that could remain your dirty little secret.

“i feel numb.” the words left your mouth in a whine as you’d tried moving your legs a little, but you’d been in the same position for hours and your body wasn’t having it.

“me too”, the one behind you groaned out, trying to stretch his legs with little to no success. the two of you were stuck like this, it seemed, unless someone else would move your bodies for you.

“why must the sweetest of life’s pleasures come with the worst of life’s pains”, a very clear exaggeration, but one that gave the boys more ground for teasing.

“so falling asleep with our giant idiot is among the sweetest of life’s pleasures, noted”, yeosang came in to tease you. “maybe i should try it, too.”

“i hate you guys.” though he was unable to do anything about it, since his legs still refused to return to their regular service.

“the feeling is mutual.”

“don’t argue.” and for some reason, your whining worked better than seonghwa’s or hongjoong’s threats had ever since they’d moved in with the other six, because the bickering immediately stopped and mingi apologised with a sheepish grin you weren’t able to see due to your position.

the teasing was replaced by breakfast (brunch) preparations as the previous day’s leftovers were collected. your body had finally started functioning as it should again, though removing the redhead’s legs from around your waist had certainly been a task. they were too long, an objective fact rather than a subjective opinion, because it would have been much easier had it been your legs around him. that was undeniable. but you decided not to bully him because it was only because of these legs around you that you’d been able to get any sleep, so you owed him, in a way.

of course they were teasing you during the meal, but you shut it down by saying that if they hadn’t chosen that awful movie you wouldn’t have needed someone to protect you in order to fall asleep, and that was something they couldn’t exactly disagree with, since they had seen you be scared right after the first scary scene came on. so you had an excuse, this once.

after eating you all stayed in the same room, though everyone did their own thing. yunho, wooyoung and san were gaming, yeosang was doing something you couldn’t even really identify with jongho (it looked like another one of the games they’d wanted to play with you the day before, but much more competitive than they’d been with you), seonghwa and hongjoong were just chatting and watching, and you were sitting on the floor with mingi, watching the pro-gamers do their thing.

“mingi?”

“hm?”

“can i draw on your back?” it was a game you’d loved to play in finland - rita på ryggen -, but you didn’t want for it to be competitive now. you just thought it might be fun.

“draw on my back?” his reaction told you that, if it was also a thing in korea, it at least hadn’t been a thing in his childhood.

“with my finger. i draw or write something, and you guess what. we do that in finland.”

why exactly it was that he just couldn’t say no to you when you told him you wanted to do something with him that had been part of your finnish upbringing he didn’t know, but he found himself agreeing immediately.

“just don’t tickle me”, he warned you, half playfully, half serious.

“i won’t. now move here”, patting the space between your legs so you’d be able to reach his back easily.

latest when the tall redhead randomly said different shapes (you’d told him you’d start with shapes and might move towards words later) and you either said ‘yes’ or ‘no’ the attention of everyone but the gamers was on you, curious about what exactly was going on.

“star?”

“yes!” and you clapped your hands once, excited that he’d gotten it right first try. you couldn’t even be bothered to be embarrassed in that moment, because this was such a distinctly childhood-like experience that it made you happy. playing games like these reminded you that your childhood hadn’t been all bad.

“can i start writing? though i actually don’t know how to do it with hangeul… do i write every letter by itself or syllable blocks? what do you think?”

“letters are probably gonna be hard enough”, the boy in front of you said, and you nodded, starting to draw.

he managed to get the first word, “my”, right rather soon, but after that it got a little harder. that’s why he was especially proud of himself and very happy when he figured out that you’d written “my best friend” on his back, though it was at least in part owed to the fact that you’d just called him your best friend, as well, in a non-joking manner.

“your best friend?” the smile on his face was really bright and you nodded, smiling somewhat timidly; getting really embarrassed when you found everyone’s attention on you now, even the three boys who had previously been glued to the tv screen were now looking at you.

“that’s cute”, san said, though it didn’t seem like he was teasing you. and the others nodded in agreement, not saying anything else, which left you unsure about whether you’d prefer them to tease you or not, because this was most definitely awkward as well.

“i want to draw now”, mingi let you know, and you were glad about the distraction. so you shifted positions, sitting in front of mingi with one of his long legs on each side of you and your much shorter ones dragged up to your chest.

you quickly got the feeling that he was just dragging random lines along your back, though, a suspicion that was confirmed when you asked him what he was even trying to draw.

“i wanted to draw a cat, but it’s hard when you don’t know where you’ve already drawn. what if i put her eyes in her ears! i can’t do that to the poor thing.”

you laughed, not complaining because his reasoning was cute and having people draw on your back was one of your favourite things anyway, so even without the guessing part it was still nice.

when yunho changed the game they were playing you noticed the time, and much to your dismay you had to leave if you wanted to get any work done today - which you most definitely should, since your study sessions with the redhead had taken up some of the time you’d usually have spent on uni work. you weren’t behind, but you’d rather be a little ahead so you’d have the option to take some time for yourself if needed.

“i think i need to get changed now and go home soon”, you informed the boys, somewhat sad about it. you’d known them for exactly one week, but it had been a really fun week, and you wanted to spend more time at their place where worries didn’t seem to exist, except for maybe the worry of being killed in your sleep by a ghost.

“can i bring you home?” mingi was still kind of riding the best friend-high and in this moment didn’t care about the teasing he’d inevitably come back to, especially not when you told him that that would be nice. he went to get changed as well - his pyjamas weren’t exactly appropriate to run around in outside, even less so than your shorts-and-oversized-tee look -, collecting his wallet, phone and keys on the way.

“be home by ten!”, yunho teased as you went out the door, which - lucky for him - closed behind you as soon as he’d said that.

“they just can’t leave me alone”, your escort complained, and even though you maybe shouldn’t you couldn’t help but laugh.

“i think it’s nice. shows me that you’re friends.”

oh right. he’d forgotten that your standards were vastly different, that, from what you’d told, you were used to malice and fake smiles only. compared to that a little teasing probably felt very lovely, rather than as annoying as it felt to him.

“we’re friends, too”, he stated, “best friends, if i’m not mistaken.” now it was his turn to tease you, but you wouldn’t let yourself be teased, not when you’d been allowed to spend the night in his arms and with him making sure you weren’t too scared, not when they’d all seemed interested in you and your life, not when you’d been allowed to exist as a multicultural individual, not when you finally felt like you did have friends, real, actual friends.

“we are.” and if you’d been facing each other rather than walking side by side you’d be able to see the surprised expression on his face caused by your straight-forwardness. but because you weren’t all you heard was his “i’m glad”.

you didn’t even try to complain when he got you your train ticket, about a week of experience having taught you that it would be of no use, anyway.

you rested your head on his shoulder during the ride, because you were still incredibly tired, and his head quickly made its way on top of yours because he was tired, too. staying awake was an act of immeasurable strength, but you did it, getting off at the right stop.

the walk was only endurable because he was there with you. you were ready to fall asleep any second - you hadn’t realised just how little you’d slept and how incredibly tired you were, but you had work to do. what a horrible fate. at least you didn’t have to walk, though, because a certain red-haired giant decided to offer you a piggyback ride which you gladly accepted.

“tell me if i get too heavy”, you told him, though, not wanting him to exhaust himself just because you were too lazy to walk. yes, it had been him who’d offered, but you’d taken him up on that, so you felt at least partly responsible.

“as if you would” was all he said, and then: “don’t tell me you doubt my big girl muscles.”

that, however, made you laugh so hard that he and his big girl muscles almost did let go of you, which caused a playful hit to be delivered to his shoulder and his grip around your legs to tighten.

you teased him with being your noble steed on your way back home, and were glad when he laughed rather than kicking you off his back. that first happened when you were in front of your door - he’d even carried you up the stairs of your dorm.

“i guess this is where we say goodbye”, the tall sillyhead sighed out dramatically as he set you down, and you rolled your eyes while grinning at him.

“it’s not like you’ll never see me again. worst case you’ll come stalk me.”

“only if you don’t mind. consensual stalking only”, he replied, though he was grinning, too.

“just keep it during the daytime. i need my beauty sleep.”

“noted. but if you ever need me during the dark hours of the night, you know how to reach me.”

“smoke signals?”

he was laughing again, head thrown back, and maybe this would become your favourite sound.

“i was thinking more like modern telecommunication devices, but whatever works.”

then he leaned down, wrapping his arms around you in a goodbye embrace, and you put yours around his neck to hug him back. he was perfectly huggable, if you were the one to judge, big and warm and soft, and you realised every single time you got a hug from him that he was very good at it. you naturally couldn’t judge other people’s experiences with receiving mingi hugs, but to you, they were among the best hugs you’d ever gotten. not that you’d gotten especially many good hugs, but still. he always pressed you tight, though not forcefully, and - though this, in your opinion, should be the bare minimum - he wasn’t sweaty, smelled nice, actually. now if only he wasn’t so freakishly tall.

“see you tomorrow, mingi”, you said as you lowered your arms (hugging him would be much easier if you’d just wrap your arms around his waist rather than his shoulders, but alas), and he somewhat hesitantly let go of you, as well.

“see you tomorrow.” then he left, sending a last small wave your way before he entered the stairwell.

now it was time for schoolwork, and you absolutely hated it. your bed was so tempting, especially since that was where you were forced to do your work; you just wanted to nap, but this time logic won over the little demon on your shoulder that told you that a small nap couldn’t hurt, because you knew you’d wake up from your ‘small nap’ the next morning.

you did, however, get momentarily distracted when a message from mingi made your phone buzz.

[mingi]: i got home safe

[mingi]: might commit a crime tho, i expect you to cover for me

you smiled, being able to imagine the teasing he had to deal with right now, and messaged back.

[y/n]:thats good

[y/n]: abt getting home safe. needing my cover is probably less good, but i got you

then you got an idea regarding his contact name. best friends deserved special names, and since he was so huggable you decided to make it known to anyone that spoke finnish, changing his name to ‘10/10 halattava’. this way you could call him huggable without having to reveal yourself as somewhat of a softie.

once that was done you, now very pleased with yourself, returned to the work you so desperately wanted to ignore, but you knew you couldn’t, shouldn’t, needed the credits. it wasn’t exactly fun to do in your tired state, but to your surprise the lessons you’d been giving mingi helped you get your work done faster than usually since now all the basics were fresh on your mind. you worked for a few hours, with breaks in between to eat and shower, pleased with the amount you’d achieved when you decided that nine was a valid time to go to bed, considering how little you’d slept last night. you’d been ignoring your buzzing phone, first now reading and replying to the messages (majority of which came from ‘hyung hate chat’ being spammed with the boys trying to persuade you into another pyjama party next week - you agreed), and kept up your habit of goodnight messages to the tall goofball that had begged you to reply because the boys wouldn’t leave him alone, apparently.

[y/n]: i was doing hw and didnt see this before now and now im going to bed, sorryyyy

[y/n]: but thank you for protecting me last night

[y/n]: goodnight, you big teddy bear

his reply came almost immediately.

[10/10 halattava]: i didnt even get my required amount of attention ://

he was right, and you felt a little guilty for having ignored him for so long, but you also knew that he wasn’t actually angry - he’d noticed how important your grades were to you, so he’d never complain about you putting your school work first. rather, he’d be worried if you didn’t.

his lack of anger proved itself in his next messages, and you smiled before putting your phone away and settling in bed.

[10/10 halattava]: but anytime

[10/10 halattava]: goodnight, significantly smaller teddy bear

and while you were drifting off to sleep mingi was smiling to himself. though he’d still deny being a simp if someone called him that, he would most definitely print your messages out and get them tattooed somewhere.

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andorerso · 4 years ago

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don't say yes, run away now

Who did this? Who barged in on someone’s wedding and asked the bride to run away with them? It happened only in movies, and yet – this was his last shot. In an hour, she’d be married and there would be no more chances left to spend.

I don't want to say too much but Rebelcaptain is definitely endgame so just keep that in mind while reading! You can also read this on ao3 where I give some of my thoughts on why I wrote this fic.

It was a small wedding which made sense because Jyn never liked to be the center of attention. Part of him was surprised she’d even agreed to a reception – when they were together, he always thought she was a “let’s get married spontaneously at the courthouse” kind of girl. But maybe it was all for her husband to be, maybe he wanted a big wedding and they settled on a compromise, maybe – maybe he pushed her into it. He couldn’t imagine Jyn being forced to do anything she didn’t want to, but he was desperate to hate this guy.

Not that he knew anything about him, other than his name and Facebook profile photo, but still. It was the principle of the thing. He was supposed to end up with Jyn, not this random dude she’d known for what? A couple of years? How well do you get to know a person in only a few short years? He didn’t want to be the crazy jealous ex-boyfriend but he had always thought –

Well, he just had to make sure she was serious about this. Because if there was even a part of her that still felt the same as he did…

He couldn’t help himself. He saw the announcement on Facebook a couple of months ago and he resolved himself to forget about it. What could he do? Then an old friend of theirs who still kept in touch with Jyn let it slip when and where the wedding was taking place, and here he was now, wondering if he’d officially lost his mind.

He tried to keep this in mind as he stepped into the room, pushing his doubts aside. They hadn’t spoken in five years but he couldn’t shake the feeling that they belonged together. This was his moment to make her see it.

Jyn turned around as the door opened, her eyes going wide as she registered his presence. He stopped for a moment to take her in. She looked breathtaking.

Her dress was knee-length and pale green, matching the color of her eyes. Her shoes were flat and her hair appeared to be a half updo with a small flower crown. It was every bit as clean and simple as he expected. At the sight of her, he was hit with a longing so intense, his breath caught in his throat. It only furthered his belief that he had to be with her.

But she looked furious.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she demanded, never one to hold back on profanities. He almost smiled. His foul-mouthed angel.

He’d prepared a speech on the way here but looking at her, he couldn’t remember any of it. All he could say was, “Don’t marry him.”

Jyn gave him an incredulous look, then took one step closer, quickly glancing around as if she was afraid someone was eavesdropping on them.

“Are you out of your mind? We broke up five years ago,” she reminded him as if he didn’t know, as if he didn’t think about her every day since.

“I know. I know, but there’s a part of me –” he paused, unable to find the right words. “If there’s a part of you – shit, I just mean that I think it was a mistake to break up. I never forgot about you.”

She looked like she wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” she said. Her arms were crossed across her chest in a defensive manner, her nails digging into her skin.

He took a deep breath and plunged in.

“Run away with me. Let’s go, let’s leave now. I have a car parked out front, we can be gone in no time. I know – I know that’s a terrible thing to do. But… I think there’s still something between us. And I think you feel it too.”

When he finished, Jyn looked uncomfortable, holding herself tighter and staring out the window to her right, not meeting his eyes. He felt his heart drop to his stomach. He didn’t think he was wrong about her but – well, of course she’d be reluctant to agree instantly. This was her wedding after all. Anyone would be hesitant.

“I think you should go,” Jyn said really quietly and still wouldn’t look at him. He gave her a pleading look but when she turned around, refusing to entertain his presence anymore, he took the hint and left.

But as he walked away, something tugged at the corner of his mind. She hadn’t said no. Hope began to unfurl in his chest once again as he realized she was just afraid. He could understand that. Perhaps he should have tried to convince her harder. Because if he was right about this, he couldn’t let her make the biggest mistake of her life.

The ceremony began an hour later. He sneaked in among the other guests, taking a seat at the edge of the row of white chairs, closest to the woods surrounding the area. There weren’t too many people attending so he did stick out a bit, but he just said he was Jyn’s colleague and nobody pressed too much. All the while, he was thinking about what he was going to say.

This was a risk, and perhaps not something good people did, but – but it was the gesture that counted, right? The big romantic gesture. Everyone loved those. If anything could convince Jyn to take a chance, if anything could prove that he was serious, it would be this. He just had to make sure his timing was right and his words were heartfelt.

If it went well, it would be a great story to tell their grandkids someday.

The wedding was quite simple but still pretty. He had to admit he did like the outdoor venue, the fairy lights on the trees, the white and yellow flowers matching the color of her dress. Her fiancé – he honestly forgot his name – looked calm and composed. It honestly threw him off a bit, how the guy wasn’t even smiling. How much could he love her if he didn’t even look happy to be here? Jyn deserved someone who would cry at their wedding, and this made him even more sure of his plans. He would treat Jyn better than this guy.

(Then Jyn walked down the aisle and her fiancé’s expression softened. He never once took his eyes off her. By then, he was too set on his plan though, so he pretended not to notice.)

He waited. There was usually a place and time for speeches like this… but it looked like he might not get his chance. The guy who was officiating the wedding – a friend of theirs, as far as he could tell – skipped the whole “if anyone objects to this marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace” part. Which was a problem. What was he supposed to do now?

When it was time to exchange rings, he panicked, realizing there was no more time for him to interrupt. He had to do it now. Before he could think about it too much and chicken out, he stood up.

At first, Jyn and the groom didn’t even notice. But then people started looking at him, and he cleared his throat, trying to ignore their stares and the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. Silence descended. Jyn finally noticed him, looking just as shocked as she had an hour ago, though she was rapidly turning red in the face with fury. Her fiancé just seemed perplexed and a bit agitated.

“What. Are you doing?” she hissed, looking like she wanted to murder him on the spot. Not a good sign – but he had to see this through now.

He could hear the guests beginning to whisper amongst themselves and he tried not to pay attention, though he could feel his face growing hot with embarrassment. Oh god, what the fuck am I doing?

“I – I love you, Jyn,” he said. A few people in the crowd gasped but he only had eyes for her. And the groom who blinked in disbelief. His expression could only be described as what the fuck is this guy on? “And my mama always told me to fight for the people you love. I love you and I think you should be with me.”

Another long silence followed. Jyn looked like she was too angry to say anything, but the groom turned to her and jerked a thumb back at him.

“Who’s this guy?” he asked, his tone nonchalant.

“Brandon,” Jyn said, the frustration evident in her voice. “My ex-boyfriend.”

“Oh,” the groom uttered, squinting as though he was trying to recollect a memory. He finally remembered the guy’s name – it was Cassian something. Brandon thought he looked way too calm for the situation. “I think you mentioned him once. Bad breath guy?”

“No, that was Chris. He’s small feet guy.”

Brandon felt a little offended at that. Not only were they completely ignoring him, but they were also insulting him? Had Jyn never talk about him? Did her fiancé really not even know his name?

Sure, he only dated Jyn for about seven months. But he always thought it was something special. How could she dismiss it so easily with a couple of words? Small feet guy.

He was starting to feel stupider by the second, especially as the guests stared at him, chuckling behind their hands.

“Alright, can somebody please get this clown out of here?” the groom asked, looking around.

“I got it,” said a big burly man with a gruff voice, heading towards Brandon. He was pretty sure he didn’t want to be thrown out by this guy so he started backtracking.

“I’m sorry – I’m sorry. It was just a misunderstanding. Sorry.”

He walked backwards, holding up his hands, and when there was enough distance between him and burly guy, he turned around, preparing to run. But… he stopped. Shook his head, telling himself that he shouldn’t. But Jyn still hadn’t said no.

“It’s just,” he said as he turned back around, still holding up his hands in a sign of peace. Jyn’s head snapped back to him, and for a second, he thought she was about to walk down here and strangle him herself. She was very capable of it, he knew.

“What?”

“Well, you didn’t answer.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know, you didn’t say… that you didn’t love me.”

“Oh my god,” Jyn said, looking one second away from exploding. “Brandon, get a hint. I don’t love you. I love Cassian and I’m very happy with Cassian. You can’t just walk in and ruin people’s weddings like that!”

Yeah, he knew that was a bit horrible of him. But he thought, well, for love, it was worth it. Because love always won in the end. And if Jyn felt the same, then it couldn’t be the wrong thing to do, could it?

He was so sure Jyn felt the same. But he could see now the way she and Cassian had looked at each other during the ceremony. They didn’t have eyes for anybody but each other. He couldn’t recall ever seeing her so enthralled with anyone; it almost felt… unlike Jyn to look at someone with stars in her eyes. Like no one else mattered. And though he didn’t know Cassian, the love on his face was plain to see for all. Like he couldn’t imagine a life without her.

Brandon felt like a fool. He hadn’t wanted to see it then and now – he really messed this up, didn’t he?

“I’m sorry,” he said, and this time, he really meant it. It probably mattered little to them now that he’d made a spectacle of their wedding, but he didn’t know what else to say. If he could take it back, he would. “I’m really sorry… I hope you both have a nice life together.”

And before the burly guy could throw him out for real, he left. All the while thinking about the deep emotional connection that Jyn and Cassian seemed to share – and the shocking realization that he never had that.

He hoped he could find a love like that someday. But first, he really needed to be single for a while.

#rebelcaptain #dailyrebelcaptain #therebelcaptainnetwork #my fics #i honestly don't know if people will like this #i don't even know if i like it bc i'm not satisfied with the writing style #but i really wanted to write it bc the idea kept bugging me

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iamnotoriginalphil · 5 years ago

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Family Matters (Zelda Spellman x Reader) - Part 33

Synopsis: It’s the final showdown.

Words: 1670

Warnings: violence, gore

AN: I have really fallen down the rabbit hole of TikTok. Come follow me over there under the same name. We’ll be done with this story by the end of the week. Enjoy the final push. Lemme know if you wanna be tagged.

Zelda was standing, facing the door, shot gun in hand. Her body was tight, coiled like a spring. You had your back pressed against the wall, watching her eyes sweep over the outside vista.

You’d had Ambrose lock your family in the morgue, the safest place in the house. He was standing guard outside, a cross bow in hand. Zelda had tried to send Sabrina away to the mysterious Academy, but she’d refused to leave her family behind when danger was coming to their doorstep.

Zelda had wanted to lock you up too, keep you safe from Bella. You had slipped away before she could, hiding away in your room as you tried to remember anything that you’d heard from Bella about how to hurt a vampire. It was all muddled with the myths mortals told and you couldn’t sort the fact from the fiction. But there was something you needed, a single hope left.

You stood out of sight, knowing it wouldn’t help when Bella eventually showed her face. She’d be able to hear your heartbeat, smell your blood, see you in the dark. You were hoping she’d focus on the Spellmans, classing you as no threat. Being underestimated had been how you’d succeeded your entire life. Wide eyes and an open face made people think you were too innocent to be a threat.

You stood at the top of the staircase, looking down on the entrance hall. Zelda looked fierce, a lioness protecting her tribe. Hilda stood off to the side, her fingers twisting together in front of her, the picture of anxiety. Sabrina stood to the other side, her teeth gritted, her eyes focused on the door. You were all waiting for Bella to appear, but you assumed it wouldn’t be politely through the front door. Wind whispered through the house and you shivered.

“How sweet,” a low voice drawled, “the family that slays together stays together.”

You pressed back against the wall more insistently. You’d heard that voice in your dreams, in your nightmares. It haunted you.

“It is too bad that it shall all be for naught,” the voice continued.

Zelda tightened her grip on the shotgun, raising it. Sabrina took a deep breath. Hilda let out a small squeak.

“Tell me, Zelda Spellman, was all of this worth it?”

“It will be once you’re gone,” she responded.

Bella appeared in front of Zelda, teeth bared and hatred in her eyes. She brought up one hand, her nails long and sharp. Her long dark hair streamed down her back, her skin pale in the sunlight. Her eyes flickered up to your hiding place, a smile taking over her features.

“It’s too bad that shall not be happening.”

Zelda fired the gun, the sound deafening. You flinched, closing your eyes. When you opened them again Bella was gone, Zelda flushed with rage. You rushed to the bannister, looking down on the scene trying to find her.

“You look delicious, mi amour.”

A cold hand wrapped around your neck, jerking you back. Your body was thrown aside. Your back slammed into the wall, your breath rushing from your body. You fell to the ground, groaning. You got up on hands and knees, trying to crawl away. A booted foot landed on your back, forcing you back down.

“I’m surprised you let your pet out for this, Zelda Spellman,” she called down, “I know how you feel about other people touching your toys.”

Another shot rang out. Wood from the building rained down on your head but the booted foot was long gone. You sat up, coughing. You crawled to the edge of the landing, looking down on Zelda. Her eyes flashed as she saw you.

“I told you to hide,” she hissed.

“I couldn’t let you face her alone,” you replied.

“How touching,” Bella drawled, now on the stairs between you and the witches, “and how misguided.”

Wind began to whip around you. A large vine crashed through the stairs, wrapping around Bella’s body. She looked startled as the vine began to constrict around her. You heard something crack, loud, like a gun going off but Zelda hadn’t moved. Bella was lifted into the air, her feet kicking. You watched, surprised it had been so easy.

With a roar, Bella ripped the vine apart. She fell back to the stairs as the vine withered up and died. She pushed herself to her feet, levelling a glare at Sabrina. Her hands were raised and a shocked look was on her face. Zelda stepped forward, putting herself between the vampire and her niece. You climbed to your feet, clutching at the wooden bannister.

Bella took a sauntering step down the stairs. Her body looked wrong, one side of her rib cage crushed in. Her body was twisted, leaning to one side. She took another step down the stairs, a feral grin overtaking her face. Zelda snarled.

“I remember learning that spell,” she said, “child’s play.”

“You know spells?” Sabrina asked, taken aback.

“Did neither of them tell you?” She looked up at you, “before I was bitten, I was a witch. A fun little experiment. Or at least I was until I murdered my sire.”

“You were a witch?”

“You're not as bright as your aunt, are you?”

She reappeared behind Sabrina, her arms tight bands around her.

“Shall we see how fun those vines can be?”

Huge vines smashed through the floor, sending Zelda across the room. They caught her, pulling her up into the air. She was whipped backwards and forward, the gun clattering to the floor. You screamed.

You watched as flames flared to life around her, consuming the green plants. It withered, pulling away from her. She fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, not moving. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Leave my family alone.”

You looked down, finding Hilda standing in the no man's land with her hands raised.

“No can do.”

Bella’s fingernails scraped along Sabrina’s cheek, blood welling in their wake. It dripped down, black and toxic looking. You watched as veins appeared along her skin, dark and pulsing. Hilda readjusted her stance.

“Leave. Us. Alone!”

Flames erupted around Sabrina, her eyes rolling back in her head. Bella disappeared again. Sabrina fell back, the blackness in her veins moving faster and faster. She began to convulse on the floor, pink foam appearing at her corners of her mouth. The flames still flickered along her skin, beginning to catch on the destroyed carpet.

Bella grabbed Hilda, sinking her teeth into her neck. You gritted your teeth, watching her drink from the motherly witch. She fell, her skin going pale. Hilda scratched at Bella’s face, trying to get some kind of hold. Bella grabbed one arm, snapping it as easily as a twig. It hung limp at her side. Bella grabbed the other doing the same so violently you could see the bone poking from her flesh. You felt your stomach roil.

She let Hilda go, slamming one of her feet into the blonde witch’s leg, shattering it. She glanced down at it before turning back to Zelda. You watched her crouch over her body, pushing the hair from the witch’s face. It was such a tender gesture you felt off balance in the carnage. All you could hear was Hilda’s whimpers and Sabrina’s gurgling. Blood and rot was heavy in the air.

Bella lowered her head as if to kiss the unconscious witch. You knew this was the one chance you had. She was distracted enough to not bother paying attention to you. And why would she when you were nothing but a pathetic mortal?

You flung yourself from the balcony, raising the wooden stake you’d kept hidden in your room since arriving. You had assumed it would be your guarantee should Bella come to visit you at the mortuary. It was the ace up your sleeve, your only protection.

You slammed into her body, the stake burying deep in her back. Black viscous liquid pulsed out of her body, coating your hands in a sticky substance. She fell aside, leaving Zelda’s body. You fell with her, pain radiating up from your feet. The jump had been too much, even with the added padding of Bella’s body. You fell off her, watching the black blood stream from her heart. She turned her head to look at you.

“Oh mi amour, you should have realised I was a liar.”

She grabbed you around the neck, squeezing. You grabbed her wrist, trying to pull her off you. She laughed, throwing her head back as her hold tightened on you.

“A stake through the heart?” she mocked, “we are far stronger than those stories you mortals tell mi amour. Did you truly believe I would tell you how to kill a vampire?”

“You might not have told her, but you told me.”

Bella turned too late, meeting Zelda’s flame covered hands. She screamed as the flames licked over her skin, leaving nothing but ash in their wake. She let you go, sending you to the floor. You scrabbled back, trying to get air in your lungs again as you watched her body burn. Her skin was bubbling before disappearing in a cloud of ash.

Exposed bone showed through as her skin melted away. She was screaming, the sound horrible, grating in your ears. It ended in a pitiful gurgle, a pile of ash all that was left. You looked up into the fierce eyes of Zelda.

“You are to never do that again,” she said.

“I was trying to save your life,” you replied.

She grabbed your face, crushing her lips against yours. You clutched at her, never wanting to let her go.

“What the hell happened up here?”

You turned, finding Ambrose standing at the top of the stairs to the morgue. He was looking from you, to Sabrina, to Hilda.

“We have taken care of Bella,” Zelda said.

“You think you may want to help Hilda and Sabrina,” you said.

“You think?”

Tags: @theenglishwizard @eyesofanangeltongueofadevil @hallospaceboyy @alexusonfire @justkeepbreathingnow @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @r0sethehat @praisezeldaspellman @escapetodreamworld @panicnymph @anxiousgoldengirl @theprassebox @witchessticktogether @vintageolives @plooffairy @whostoknow @spicyrice20 @fallenangelmuse @step-intoyour-power @basicwitchtm @lovelyleafylesbian @saucy-sapphic @zeldasnackman

#Zelda Spellman #zelda spellman imagine #zelda spellman x reader #caos #caos imagine #family matters

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spookyboywhump · 5 years ago

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@pepperonyscience and @whump-story-prompts y’all order some Zander x Brass knuckles?

Another part of the 20′s AU, the first part is here but this isn’t exactly chronological or anything

***

Zander watched the two of them argue from his place on the floor, kneeling obediently like he’d been told to. By now his knees were near permanently bruised, but he preferred that pain to the ache in his back and neck from being used as a footstool. Cain was relaxed, leaned back in his seat as he drank from a crystal glass, almost pretending to ignore Vanessa, who had leaned over the back of his seat to harass him about paying his tab. Zander never understood why he just didn’t, he certainly had the money to spare.

“I mean it, Cain, I better see some money by the end of the night or you won’t be setting foot back here until it’s paid in full.” She hissed, murder in her eyes as she glared at him.

“I heard you the first hundred times, I promise.” He said, sounding irritated with her hounding him.

“If you heard me the first hundred times then you should’ve paid up the first time!” Cain sighed, exasperated now. He leaned forward and set his glass down on the table, turning to face her better.

“What if I offered you something better than money?”

“Better than money? Like what?” She frowned, still not satisfied but definitely intrigued. Zander had a bad feeling about this. He knew there was really only one thing Vanessa liked more than money.

“How about I let your staff have a go at Zander for a little while? I’m sure the men could use the stress relief, and we get a show. It’s a win win, right?” He smiled, cold blue eyes glancing over to Zander, seeming to enjoy the way his eyes widened, quickly burying all the anger and fear he felt inside to avoid lashing out. He quickly looked to Vanessa, who was thinking it over, red lips already twisted into a smile as she imagined it. He should’ve known there was no way out of this.

“You always know the right things to say to me, don’t you?” She hummed. “Deal. I’ll let it slide, for now anyway.”

“Good enough for me.” Cain turned to face Zander now, he narrowed his eyes in a hateful scowl at the man. “You don’t mind, do you mutt?”

“No sir.” The response came through gritted teeth, the words angry but drilled into him.

“There’s a good boy.” He grinned, reaching a hand out to ruffle through his hair. Zander had no choice but to let him do it, even if the action only further humiliated him. He had no choice but to accept it, and wait while a sickening sense of dread sank into him, wait for the place to clear out and the two demons could get their show. The only thing he hated more than being a dog was being used as entertainment.

Time passed somehow agonizingly slow and unfortunately quick at the same time. Vanessa waited until the last patron left, only them and her staff now. She said she wanted this to be a “private affair”. She got the attention of her men with a sharp whistle, dragging Zander to his feet by the short chain attached to his collar, pulling him away from Cain and towards the center of the bar, forcing him to his knees in front of her men. They didn’t exactly like him at the best of times, Cain hadn’t really trained him to be kind and friendly. A few too many deep growls, occasionally snapping at an unwanted touch, that was about all it took to get on their bad side.

“Alright boys, he’s free to use until Mr. Whitaker says otherwise, understand?” She said, receiving several “yes ma’am”s in response. “Try not to break anything too important, and remember that “stop” means stop. Well, from me or Cain anyway.” She laughed, already making her way back to where Cain sat, leaving him at the mercy of these people.

They wasted no time in getting started on him, two of the taller men roughly grabbed him by the arms, dragging him up but holding him securely in place, despite his best efforts he couldn’t escape their grip. Cain hadn’t given an order telling him not to struggle, and he certainly couldn’t just take this, but he was already in a vulnerable position, it would take some sort of miracle to escape this in one piece.

The first hit landed hard in the center of his stomach, he would’ve collapsed and doubled over were it not for the men holding him up. He clenched his jaw shut, refusing to make too much noise and make this all the more satisfying for them. If they wanted him to scream or cry then they’d have to work for it, damn it. At least, that’s how he typically thought it should go. The next hit only got a pained grunt out of him as he squeezed his eyes shut, still trying to jerk away from the men holding him.

“The boys a guard dog, don’t you think it’s going to take a bit more than a punch to get a reaction outta him?” One of the men said. He was right but Zander wished he’d kept his mouth shut. He opened his eyes to see the glint of metal in one of the men’s hands, his stomach dropping when he realized what it was. All he could do was turn his face away and hope that nothing got broken, a brass knuckled fist slammed into his stomach and he feared he might vomit from the pain, crying out as he stopped struggling for only a moment, the sharp pain spreading through his abdomen.

“Fuck, let go!” He yelled, but they just laughed at his efforts.

“Miss Van Doren said that we can go until Whitaker says otherwise, you’re better off saving your breath.” One of the men told him. A low growl escaped him as he decided to try a different method, slamming his foot down onto the foot of one of the men holding him, grinding his heel until that arm was finally freed, enough for him to jerk away from the other and try to escape, only to be grabbed by the collar and roughly yanked back.

A well placed hit to the jaw put him on the floor in a second, he swore that he blacked out for a moment and before he could think to try and protect his head or his face he was grabbed by the hair, forcefully pulled up. It was all he could do to get on his knees and try and lessen the pain, reaching up to try and pry the fingers from his hair. The man holding him simply grabbed his wrist though, roughly twisting one arm behind him.

“Do something about his pretty face, will ya?” The man holding him snickered.

“Gladly.” A flash of a grin, the shine of metal, and suddenly pain exploded across his face, nose surely broken from the impact. He howled in pain, weakly trying to pull away but getting nowhere. Blood was already pouring down his face but there was nothing he could do about it, subdued to the point where he had no choice but to take the men’s attacks. His hair was finally released, the next punch slammed against his cheekbone and knocked his head to the side, he feared that might have resulted in another broken bone.

While he was vulnerable on the floor like this one of the other men, stepped back, delivering a swift kick to his ribs that had him doubled over in pain, a strained yelp forced from his throat.

“Fuck, he even sounds like a kicked dog.” One of the men laughed, grabbing his face to force him to look up. He saw his chance and took it, lurching forward and catching the man’s hand between his teeth, biting down as hard as he could. It was a small act of defiance, one he knew he’d come to regret, but he found it satisfying anyway. Satisfying, until he was kicked hard in the side, forcing him to let go.

“Don’t fucking bite!” The man snarled, balling up his fist. He punched him hard in the mouth before Zander could dodge the hit, his lip split open on impact, the taste of blood filling his mouth. He considered himself lucky it was just the split lip and he hadn’t lost any teeth.

“Get him on his feet again.” The man with the brass knuckles ordered, he felt nauseous as he was grabbed and pulled up. He was lucky he was being held up, his legs too weak to support himself on his own. He wasted no time in hitting him in the stomach again, once, twice, three times and Zander was dry heaving, the little bit he’d eaten that day threatening to show up again.

“Hold on a minute!” Vanessa said loudly, finally intervening. Zander was taking shuddering, deep breaths, praying she was calling them off, only for her to say, “I don’t want him vomiting on my floor, avoid the stomach, please?” She said politely.

“Yes ma’am.” The man said with a nod, before his attention was focused on Zander again, the guard dog letting out an almost pathetic whine. He should’ve known better than to hope for mercy from that witch.

***

“Think we should stop them?” Vanessa asked, leaned lazily against Cain as they watched the show, the poor man curled up on the floor at this point, feet kicking and stomping down on him as he tried to cover his head, tried to avoid any more injuries to his face.

“Probably, I don’t really want the mutt to die.” He sighed, getting to his feet. “That’s enough men, back off.” He told them as he approached the group, her staff quickly breaking away from the man on the floor. They knew better than to disobey when Cain gave an order. He grabbed the chain attached to his collar and dragged him into a sitting position, though he had to do most of the work to hold him up since Zander seemed too weak to even do that much. At this point Vanessa came to get a look at the damage herself, a smile on her face.

“They really did a number on you, huh?” She laughed, and Zander groaned in response. His face was a bloody mess at this point, sure to be bruised and swollen the next day. While she spoke with her staff, Cain crouched down to get a better look at Zander, grabbing his chin and turning his face to examine him.

“Brass knuckles, now there’s a good idea…” He murmured, before a grin spread across his face. “What do you say mutt, think I should pick up some of those?”

The only response Zander could give was a pained moan.

#whump #my writing #my oc's #Zander #Cain #Vanessa #multiple unnamed whumpers #I had to give Vanessa a surname for this one #beating #broken nose #busted lip #brass knuckles #dehumanisation #grabbed by the hair

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