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muffindaddystyles · 3 years ago

Note

Soft dom harry makes subby reader upset subspace?

MEANIE ANGRY H :D BUCKLE UP FELLAS

Y/N's day is been shitty so far. It started with an ache in her lower abdomen from Harry’s morning stiffy bulging against her asscheeks fattening everytime he snuggled into her to hoard her warmth and blankies and to stuff his face in her neck with incoherent blabbering.

She wanted to wake him up with her hand, mouth, hole— anything around his cock and to please him and dull the burny feeling in her tummy -- but -- she had an important workshop at UNI that was must needed to be attended.

The time she managed to knock herself out of her needy and lusty headspace, she was getting late and whirling around the room and closest like a thunderstorm -- burying a snoring Harry under the heaps of clothes and littering the floor with her shoes collection, the kitchen got treated much more worst with maids being not around (she’s used to Harry waking up earlier than her and making her a full course brekkie) after making a laughable ruckus of cabinets all she stuffed her mouth with was a chocolate protein bar.

The stars were still not in her favour. She was grabbing onto her hair until far when she missed the bus (she usually don’t take buses, Harry makes sure the driver drop her off safe and secure) and it started raining leaving Y/N with nothing but a bare head to take all of it as she already left the bus shelter to stop a taxi.

If all of that wasn’t much of a tragedy and humiliating, Y/N slipped the moment she stepped out of the vehicle and on the slippery curbs of the building, she saw her life flashing right infront of her eyes as the papers tucked in her armpit fled everywhere and landed on the rainy mud sadistically along her. It gave her a serious hit in her ankle and completely yanked her hip, still being a stubborn-head she picked herself and went inside despite how many glares the cleaning staff threw her way for bringing the dirt with her feed all over the shiny floors.

She felt bad.

Stupidly bad.

Her workshop teachers were kind enough to accept her late arrival, but her designs for fall got rejected and they’d have been a huge milestone for her to get her dream internship.

Y/N felt awfully, teeny, pathetic and little while slumping into the corner of the bus and holding her breath to refrain from crying these little liquidy bitches out of her eyes.

Reaching back home she was met with pure chaos, bumping into petrified and agitated employs from Harry’s company scurrying out of their main foyer and she could persist but to ask what happened only to be informed in stammers that the staff messed up big and caused a loss of million dollars— making Harry terribly mad and fire people left and right.

It wasn’t a joke at all.

Because once, she steps inside, bag falling from her shoulder as she sighs in exhaustion feeling her muscles stiffening everywhere but one particular spot's hurting wrenchingly— her foggy mind couldn’t figure it out yet. She peeks into Harry’s home office to be met by a very annoyed, aggrieved, furious Harry pacing in his office all whilst with a phone against his ear shouting at someone who was destined to be humiliated today just like her and she pouts gingerly seeing his features skewered tightly into displeasure, the vein that curves along his temple prominent with blood pumping erratically in his body.

His head snaps up at the door’s creak and albeit his eyes softens a little, the kink of brows and the scowl on his lips is still there and he watches her paddle towards him carefully knowing anything at the moment would burst his chimneys out and she wants to be good for her daddy.

“Hi.” She speaks timidly, pout getting more rusty when the greetings not returned and instead he keeps all of his attention on the phone keeping a loose arm around her.

She grumbles, when he gestures down at her to give him a sec and untangles himself from her walking away and huffing and puffing into the phone.

How could he!

She feels so denied and rejected and kicked like it’s done to those affection starved lil puppies.

Her clingy tendencies flying high drunk and wooly. The needy beastie inside her wanting nothing more than take a bath where Harry could cream her back in her favourite berry bubbles, massaging her head and whisper sweet nothings into her ear, then lots and lots of cuddles, maybe he'll be generous enough and let her keep him snug inside her while they watch movie because she had such an awful day.

But, No! He's trying to escape free from her because she’s such a burden for him now.

Her eyes turns glassy, her shoulders slumping sadly and out of nowhere she’s feeling cold and barren as Harry’s voice becomes a wafting fume for her— an indication she has gone under too much.

“Daddy . . .” She stomps behind him, circling his footsteps like a whiny puppy and grapples at his dress shirt gasping sullenly when he swats her dainty hands away and glares down at her in dominance, his tone harsh as he blocks the receiver with his palm and mouths at her with a huff, “Stop being needy fo’ once. I’ve clearly some important issues to care for, Y/N.” Poor Y/N's deathly grip on his shirt loosens sorrowfully and her chin wobbles as she nodded still wanting to be good for him and if it wasn’t enough to give her the biggest heartbreak of the year— he even rolled his eyes at her too grumping under his breath about something how he turned her into a spoiled brat himself.

“Okie. . .” Her voice strangled and small. She shrinks into herself but wasn’t paid any heed from Harry and without another word she leaves him as to be it.

Having a huge breakdown in her room didn’t help at all. A painful headache hitting her like a train as she clumsily strips down, wearing one of his t-shirt heavily drenched in his scent he keeps for her under her pillow anytime she needs it and hides under the blankets with tears still running down her swollen cheeks— slipping into a light slumber from all of weariness and crying.

Once the smoke cleared from Harry’s mind and his capabilities of rational thinking coming back to him, he was reminded of how he denied his baby of his littlest of affection and tenderness when she clearly looked so glum and sad and upset.

He wanted to whip himself in head.

He’s such a twat that he let work come between them.

He curses himself. Making a sprint to his bedroom, knowing he’d find her none other than there and he was right puffing out a disheartened sigh when his eyes falls over his princess buried under all of these layers of blankets, he crawls up towards her carefully not to startle her awake.

Grunting at himself when he finds she’s been crying, he strokes a thumb up her blushy cheeks and her wet lashes, kissing her puffy eyelids and her little sad unhappy pout away.

He frowns. Feeling her feverish and flushed under his hand, “Hey puppy . . .” He thumbs down her throat getting a little fretful when she doesn’t stirs, however she’s such a squirmy little one and he moves the blankets away to let her body cool itself smiling proudly at his shirt swallowing her whole is when she snuggled herself more into her stuffie letting the shirt ride up her thighs and hips exposing a ghastly bruise of red and purples and he frowns not remembering it being there before.

Now. He feels shittier. Wanting to jump of the cliff for being a shitty sadist boyfriend to his only beloved.

“No!” Y/N whimpers loudly, squirming away from his touch as he examines her gently and it sent shockwaves to each of her tissues and lions causing her an undeniable pain.

“Puppy, shh, shh. ‘s just me, making sure if y'okay.” He scrambles closer to her towering her to cradle her face and kiss the tip of her nose—- his face falls drastically and his heart cracks miserly when Y/N pushes him away with a sorrowful mumble not even letting him wipe the drool away from the corner of her mouth as he usually does.

“’M okay . . .” She tries to knuckle the sleepiness away with shivery hands, “No you’re not —...” He’s cut off by her angry pout and her silly efforts to keep as much distance between them as possible, “I don’t need, Daddy . . ‘m big and I could take care of me self.” At her puny waver realization dawns upon Harry and his brows shoots up to his hairline feeling nauseous and terrible for not taking care of his babylove earlier.

He’d have never let her be away from him if he knew she was in her subspace.

“Y/N baby . . . I didn’t mean it, darling —--...” With gentleness he tries to approach her but she wraps her arms around her petite figure in a protective manner, haziness taking best of her and Harry’s chest suffocates into itself, being a dom it’s your responsibility to make your subby feel protected, loved and happy and he even failed at that.

He quickly cups both of her hot cheeks in his nippy palms when she hiccups sadly, a sob threatening to slip out, “Yes you did! You meant it. Said you spoiled me, I don’t want your money, promise! I just want you and y'shooed me away saying Y/N’s too needy . . .” Harry flinches at her words. He never even spared a thought to this negativity that she chooses to be with him for his money because he knows out of all the people she’s the only one who loves him out of the boundaries of status and money.

He realises how stabbing they'd have been to her when she was so sensitive and floaty wanting nothing more, just him.

How deep she has gone if she’s taking her own name in third person.

“’M sorry baby. So sorry. Swear on myself, didn’t mean to hurt my baby, knows tha’ work shouldn’t be an excuse t’ make y'feel unloved—- but those bastards got a tick outta me.” He rambles on frantically. Afraid she’ll think he’s lying and would finally make up her mind to leave him.

“You didn’t?” She asks with so much innocence Harry nearly cries out, “’Course I didn’t! How could I? You could never be needy, Bab. I love you so much and you’re my whole word, forgive me please?”

“You’re forgiven,” She let a small smile flutter up her features, a tinge of gleam in her previous dull eyes brightening the whole room and Harry immediately bunches her up in his lap.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks her, not sure if she still needs space from him and would rather be better without him but she bobs her head shyly and he chuckles softly before touching their lips together into a tender loving kiss and brushes their noses up and down murmuring sweetly coy to her.

“Now, could y'tell daddy how y'got this bruise baby? How did ya get hurt?” He coos, brushing her sweaty hair back and rubs her sweet gland behind her ear delicately, “Oh yeah . . . this, was raining and slipped.” She murmurs, hissing a gasp jolting away when Harry glides his fingers gently down her hip bone and fresh tears springs in her eyes as she buries herself in his chest, “Daddy hurts. . .” . “Oh babypie. Daddy’s g'na take care of his love.” He lays her down gently kissing her forehead when she whines for him to keep on holding her, “’M right here darling. G'na prep us a bath, make my baby alright.” Saying this he quickly disappears inside the washroom and next their room’s sursuring with marble tub filling with warm water, Harry throws in her favourite pink coloured bath bombs and rose essences and throws their towels in the warmer coming back with her as he left her to be, he has decided he’s gonna love on her whole night, “My baby’s the best, ain’t she? She’s my bestest girl.” He coos down at her sweetly and slides his forearms under her knees and back picking her up carefully and brings her to his chest securely.

She closes her eyes, biting down a whimper when Harry dips them in the water some it sloshing down the edges of bathtub and it envelopes them and gives a stingy feeling to her bruise before soothing it down.

He rubs her arms, and circles smoothing patterns on her tummy and kisses her a gallons as she melts in his embrace and he let’s her sink into him more, nibbling and sponging wet ticklish kisses on her neck making her purr and become a puddle of softness in his hold while she takes her time to mumble all the bad events that happened to her and he felt so guilty of not asking her how she’s and how her day went when she came to him, in need of some of his lovin.

“I love you so much, bab.” He suckles her earlobe, toying and plucking her bottom plush lip, “Was prick to me love —.. you deserve all my lovin,” He noses at her jaw, not forgetting it to mark it with his pecks and sloppy bites.

“’S okay daddy, y'had a bad day too.” He’s grateful to have her in his life. She cares about him, maybe more than he does for her and he feels himself lucky for it.

“You want me to help you relax?”

“Can I have you?” Her tone bashfully desperate and coy, Harry meanders their fingers together and kisses her knuckles softly.

Considering her wound still being sore and pulp, having sex would be painful for her and she might not grasp it in her hazy mind but Harry doesn’t want to hurt at all.

He plants a little noisy smooch to her shoulder when she nods, she mews and purrs when Harry glides his palm all the way down her body and cups her pussy digging his palm into her mound and coats his digits with her arousal dipping the pads of his fingers into her entrance, “All this wet f'me?” Palming her tits while whispering sweet nothings into her ear when she gasps and closes up on Harry scratching nails into his bended knees.

“Shh, shh puppy, jus' relax hmm? Feel yourself.” With sputtery inhales she does as he says, soon two of his fingers slips inside her and he strokes her pussy and pulls them out making her all whiny and pushes them back with a squelching noise, fucking her with it smiling and stopping when her thighs parts falls again his’s completely.

“Daddy!” She writhes and whines, trembly hands trying to bring Harry fingers back to her pulsating wetness, “You’re the cutest.” He smiles against her lips giving her cheeks several squishes and pats her head loving to see his adorable princess all flustery for him.

On her demands. He slicks his fingers back inside her and caresses the insides of her thighs while she pants and sinks onto his knuckles blabbering out daddydaddydaddy weepily.

“Cum fo’ me, puppy. Feels good? Yeah? My baby feels nice?” He rasps in her mouth, curving and petting the soft spot inside her pussy and sucks onto her upper lip when she moans and mewls loudly gushing all over his finger and he keeps on fucking her till she’s all sleepy and balmy against his chest.

Harry coaxes her tenderly, smoothing his hands all over her twitchy spots and patches sloppy kisses all over her face that makes her all giggly and shy—- the amount of endorphins spiking high in her system.

“Love you so much, daddy.” She mushes puckering her lips into his throat.

“Love you too, pup.”

#dom harry x subby y/n #dom harry x sub reader #dom!h x sub!reader #dom!h x sub!y/n #dom harry #harry styles fanfic #harry styles story #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #cute harry #harry styles #harry smut #harry styles fanfiction #fluff #harry angst #hsh

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makeste · 3 years ago

Text

BnHA 323: “I Don’t Know How to Explain to You That You Should Care About Other People”

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan was all, “Izuku, I’m sorry.” Bakugou Stans were all, “[sobs for a week straight and tearfully awards him the Nobel Prize for character development].” Deku was all, “[faints in Kacchan’s arms].” Iida was all, “[trying to decide if Ochako genuinely tried to kill him a few minutes ago].” Horikoshi was all, “NO TIME FOR HUGS WE MUST GET BACK TO UA.” The civilians holed up at U.A. were all, “WE TOOK A VOTE AND DECIDED THAT WE’RE ALL GOING TO BE JERKS ABOUT THIS AND MAKE A BIG FUSS ABOUT YOU LETTING DEKU BACK INTO THE SCHOOL.” Deku was all “[stands there looking like he expected nothing less and breaking my heart more and more with each passing moment].” Ochako was all, “that does it, looks like I’m gonna have to do something about this... next chapter, that is.”

Today on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal is all “I just want you all to know that I spent nine million dollars turning U.A. into a giant Battleship-style grid that can burrow underground and zoom around in a giant subway maze because Horikoshi lacks a grounded understanding of both civil engineering and economics.” Back in the present day, Jeanist is all, “EVERYONE TAKE HEED, MY COMRADES AND I HAVE DEEMED IT EXPEDIENT TO CONVEY THIS AUSPICIOUS YOUTH BACK TO THIS STRONGHOLD. WE ANTICIPATE THAT WE MAY DEPEND UPON YOUR GOODWILL AND ACQUIESCENCE TO THESE TERMS.” The civilians were all, “NO.” Ochako was all, “EMPATHY, MOTHERFUCKERS, DO YOU SPEAK IT?!” The civilians were all, “oh shit.” Anyway so Ochako is a giant badass, but I’m a little worried that she’s going to get struck by lightning. Please come down from there.

so before we start this chapter, I would just like to apologize for having not posted the ch 321 recap yet, and would like to reassure everyone, and especially Iida who is staring at me with Sad Wobbly Guilt Trip Eyes, that I will get to that as soon as I can

OMG FLASHBACK??

yes please Horikoshi please show us more of class 1-A and their Deku intervention strategy jam sessions

oh dear

Iida you are too pure and good for this cruel world. [sprays the U.A. civilians with a water bottle] NO. BAD CIVILIANS! NO OSTRACIZING SCARED AND EXHAUSTED CHILDREN IN THE HOUSE

EXCUSE ME RAT PRINCIPAL WHAT’S WITH THESE MIXED MESSAGES

???

RAT PRINCIPAL: he’s free to return to us at any time!!

ALSO RAT PRINCIPAL: but it’s too risky for him to return to us

?? ??????? ?????????????????????

so now he’s going on about how strong the U.A. Barrier is, and how it’s comparable to the defensive capabilities of Tartarus. this would have sounded a lot more impressive before chapter 297 lol

OH!!!! HELLO, WHAT’S THIS!!!

A TIMELY CALLBACK TO A CERTAIN MYSTERIOUS EVENT WHICH HASN’T BEEN REFERENCED SINCE USJ? [U.A. TRAITOR MUSIC INTENSIFIES]

so now Rat Principal says he upgraded U.A.’s security systems with his own “modifications”, whatever the fuck that means. I mean look, I’ve been saying for a long time now that U.A. is the best place for everyone to hole up, don’t get me wrong. but that was mostly on account of there not being any other practical alternatives. but you’re making it sound like you figured out a way to actually make it Decay-proof or some wild shit like that

-- hold up, DID YOU ADD A FORCE FIELD. DID YOU TRICK THIS SCHOOL OUT WAKANDA-STYLE YOU CRAZY MARSUPIAL. HOLY SHIT. because that would actually be perfect

LMAO

WHAT KIND OF GALAXY BRAIN BULLSHIT. “NAH THERE’S NO NEED FOR A FORCE FIELD, LET’S JUST PUT WHEELS ON IT”

oh okay so the whole campus is basically capable of burrowing itself underground. that’s insane lol I wonder how they pulled that off. probably got poor Cementoss working overtime

blah blah blah so basically the entire campus is split into a grid and each section of the grid is capable of its own independent movement. lol this is just the Merone Base from KHR. you thought no one would notice this casual plagiarism ten years after the fact, but YOU UNDERESTIMATED YOUR AUDIENCE, HORIKOSHI

“joke’s on you imma just lampshade it” WELL ALL RIGHT THEN

“look at me I’m so fucking self-aware” fucking swear to god. I can’t believe this man is my favorite mangaka of all time smdh

“excuse me, I wasn’t finished describing all the rest of this bullshit yet,” Rat Principal breaks in impatiently. “we also added a steel wall all around the underground of the campus that’s 3000 steel plates thick. that’s fifteen fucking meters of solid fucking steel just fyi. and if anyone fucks around with any part of it the defense system will activate immediately! and also all of the plates are independently motorized, whatever the fuck that means!! in conclusion you’re gonna need a fucking tower crane to suspend all of your disbelief by the time I’m through with this paragraph”

“also Shiketsu is almost as reinforced as U.A. but not quite because we still had to make sure we were better.” but of course. and apparently the two schools are connected via a secret tunnel as Hagakure mentioned earlier

LSDKFJLSDKJFLK

“WAIT WHAT” LMAO YOU HEARD HIM, NOW INASA CAN VISIT YOU BOTH IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND TELL YOU ALL ABOUT THE WEIRD DREAM HE HAD. GOD BLESS YOU HORIKOSHI

(ETA: moment of appreciation for Shouto and Katsuki having the same thought at the same time and making Knowing Eye Contact and saying the exact same thing out loud in perfect unison like the best friends they are. what a blessed day.)

so Tokoyami is all “but wait if you engineered all this shit all the way back during the Band arc how did you even know that Tomura’s quirk awakening would become a thing, Horikoshi -- uh, I mean, Principal Nezu”

and Rat Principal is all “lol idk”

“basically I just woke up one morning and was all ‘say, you know what this school really needs? a fifteen-meter-thick underground steel wall, and the ability to break up into little pieces that individually zoom around wherever the fuck they want.’ jesus christ. lol if money and common sense were apparently no obstacle why didn’t you just teleport U.A. to the fucking moon or something. maybe I should shut up before I given him any ideas

dsfaelkjldkjgl

you heard it here first, folks, all of this cost a grand total of nine million U.S. dollars. well technically it cost “more than” nine million dollars. never has that distinction been more important lmao. are we sure this barrier was really made of steel and not cardboard? who the hell sold it to them, Ea-Nasir??

this is my favorite manga series of all time. yes I am ashamed

“in conclusion please do your best to reach Deku-kun” SO WHAT WAS ALL THAT NONSENSE ABOUT IT BEING TOO RISKY THEN. anyway thank you for this super informative and edifying flashback, Horikoshi. I will cherish it always. I don’t even want to read another translation of this absurdity lmao, there’s something special about it just the way it is. pretty sure Horikoshi just had a cracked out fever dream one night and transferred it to the pages of the manga verbatim

anyway so back to the unruly mob

not their finest moment. please excuse me while I cover poor Deku’s ears and give him a good shoosh pap

oh wow the parents are out here too

is Mitsuki trying to hold Inko back?? that’s the last thing this fandom needs right now is more Mitsuki discourse fffwlkjs. and even Jiroudad, scientifically proven to be the best dad in all of BnHA, is just standing there silently looking vaguely unhappy. way to rise to the moment you guys

MONOMA

so this settles it for me that Aizawa is not at UA. I know a lot of people have been wondering about his whereabouts, and if I had to wager a guess it would be that something happened with Shirakumo/Kurogiri. I can’t think of anything else -- even the loss of an eye and a limb -- that would keep him from his kids at a time like this

anyway but this is excellent Monoma content right here though. I love that he apparently adopted Eri after a single interaction with her. also WHERE IS SHINSOU DAMMIT. THE PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW

and Kouta’s there too looking like he wants to run over to Deku but Ragdoll won’t let him :/

it’s gotta be pretty upsetting for him to see his hero like this and not having anyone stand up for him. [taps megaphone] IS THIS THING ON. OKAY YEAH IT SEEMS TO BE WORKING. AHEM. PAGING URARAKA OCHAKO. GONNA NEED YOU TO GET OVER HERE ALREADY AND MAKE THAT BIG DRAMATIC SPEECH WHICH YOU ARE CLEARLY DYING TO MAKE. IF YOU DON’T DO IT SOON I’M GONNA HAVE TO STEP IN, AND YOU REALLY DON’T WANT ME TO DO THAT SINCE MY SPEECH WILL NOT BE VERY GOOD OR INSPIRING, AND WILL PROBABLY JUST CONSIST OF “HELLO, YOU ARE ALL STUPID, PLEASE SHUT UP AND GO AWAY”

so now Mic is telling them to calm down. at least someone’s speaking up here, geez

OH MY GOD

MY MAN JEANIST OUT HERE DOING WHAT HE DOES BEST: MAKING EVERYONE FEEL GUILTY AND JUDGED

OH MY GOD HE IS GIVING SUCH A LONG AND BORING SPEECH LMAO IS YOUR STRATEGY TO PUT THEM ALL TO SLEEP OR WHAT

truly in awe of this man’s ability to take messages which could easily be conveyed in ELI5-speak, and stubbornly convert them into incomprehensible language the likes of which you need a graduate degree in order to understand

“hey guys, so originally our plan was to use Deku as bait for the villains, but that didn’t really work and also we realized it was kinda dumb and was probably gonna get him killed, so we brought him back here instead.” was that really so hard, Jeanist. also are we all really just gonna sit back here and watch Jeanist take full credit for Bakugou’s plan just like that lmao

(ETA:

WHERE DID ENDEAVOR GO AND WHO IS THIS DIABOLICAL MASTER OF DISGUISE. lol I genuinely didn’t notice this because I was too busy digging through thesauruses trying to rewrite Jeanist’s speech; many thanks to @class1akids for pointing it out and making my day immeasurably better. take it easy there Dick Tracy.)

“anyway so please stop being dicks and let him fucking rest so he can save all your ungrateful asses” what an impassioned and inspiring plea. time to see if the masses will listen to reason

narrator: they did not listen to reason

oh my god finally Ochako is doing something. YEAH OCHAKO WOOOO SHOW THEM HOW IT’S DONE

hmm

this entire chapter is truly and utterly nonsensical to me lol

(ETA: on my second readthrough I’m fucking dying at how she stole the megaphone right out of Mic’s hand lmao. and how Kacchan is all “fuck yeah nothing I appreciate more than some quality fucking larceny.”)

oh I see she was jumping on top of the main building so as to scream down at them all more impressively

“ANYWAY DEKU IS PRETTY COOL ACTUALLY, YOU GUYS ARE JUST MEAN” couldn’t have said it better myself Ochako

lol uh

gotta say I did not have “Ochako reveals the secret of OFA to the entire U.A. Citizen Clown Parade” on my bingo card for this week. it’s a bold strategy cotton let’s see if it pays off

SDLFKJSL

“NO, SERIOUSLY, HAVE YOU LOOKED AT HIM YOU GUYS. YOU THINK HE LIKES RUNNING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A RUSTED OIL DRUM?? HE DID THAT FOR YOU YOU UNGRATEFUL SLOBS”

so she is basically explaining the entire Deku Angst arc to them and explaining what a good and selfless protagonist Deku is, YES, PREACH

OMG IT’S THE GIGANTIC FOX LADY

not to insinuate anything, but what exactly were you doing standing out here with the hysterical mob, Gigantic Fox Lady? you’re better than that

-- KACCHAN SIGHTING!!

sdlkfjl. thanks for weighing in with that helpful and important observation. where have you been for the last five minutes. were you asleep. was it Jeanist’s speech

never mind, now he’s yelling at the civilians so I instantly forgive him

THE FUTURE NUMBER ONE HERO, EVERYONE. THANK YOU, THANK YOU. HE’LL BE HERE ALL WEEK

“anyway so I’m just going to end the chapter here” lmao seventeen pages truly do go by so fast. at least he didn’t try to force in a cliffhanger at the end this time. dare I say, growth

so I guess the civilians are either gonna have a Kamino and/or Fukuoka-esque moment where they remember how to be decent people and apologize to this poor young man, or else they’ll remain unpersuaded, and so Kacchan will have to knock a few of their heads around until they become more inclined to be reasonable. either option is fine by me lol

#bnha 323 #uraraka ochako #rat principal #class 1-a #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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tu-sugar-mami · 3 years ago

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What if Alcina comforts you when you go through a break up:

"It's all right, dear. Let it all out..." She held you close to her chest while you sobbbed incontrolably. Your heart clenched at the memory of what happened earlier that day. Her strong arms were surrounding you, protecting you, shielding you against your demons. Her chin rested on the top of your head while her retracted claws scratched your scalp soothingly.

You regretted avoiding her all day. It wasn't your intention at first, but you just couldn't face her. Of course you couldn't run for long, and so you inevitably stumbled upon her in the hallway on your way to the library.

Alcina is a very observant person, you know that, she always notice even the smallest details, and your downcast gaze along with arrhythmic heartbeat were obviously not the exception. You tried to sweep everything under the rug, to hide your struggle and the way your heart clenched, but those piercing gorgeous golden eyes bore into your soul making it impossible to keep your walls up, and when you couldn't hold it in any longer and finally broke, when your tears and your pain finally saw light she didn't think it twice, she didn't hesitate. She held you, leaning down to your insignificant height to recieve you with open arms and an open heart.

"I did my best, Alci." You said, your hoarse voice reverberating into her throat and your tears wetting her neck. "I did my best and i wasn't enough..." Your arms circled her waist when she kneeled and brought you closer, sitting you on her lap like a crying child. She didn't even care to ruin her dress on the dirty floor.

"What happened? Who hurt you like this?" Her voice was gentle, and you didn't notice the hidden rage she held towards whoever hurt you like that.

"He dumped me. He said that—"You sniffled and your hands clutched her dress as if your life depended on it. "He said that i'm useless, just a nuisance he had to put up with all that time we were together..."

It was then when Alcina reliazed you were talking about your shitty boyfriend. The same man she felt jealous of, because he got to hold you whenever he wanted, he could cuddle with you at night every night, and above all he could kiss you as many times as he wanted while she could only fantasize about it in her dreams. God, Alcina hated that man, but seeing you happy made it impossible for her to get rid of him. And now she regretted not doing it. 'How dare that man make you cry like this?'

"Darling, here, look at me." She carefully but firmly guided your chin up, angling your head so you could look at her. The stern look on her face made her beauty even brighter. " That man does not deserve your tears." Her hand cupped your cheek, or well, half of your face, and her thumb stroked your cheek softly, soothingly, helping your sobbing subside. "That idiot will pay for telling you such things. He is a fool for letting you go, and you my lo– dear, deserve someone much better than that garbage man."

"I'm not hurt because he dumped me, Alcina." That got her attention, you almost never called her by her complete first name. "It hurts me that he's right." You wiped your tears with the back of your hand and stood up. Even kneeled Alcina was taller than you, and you couldn't hold her gaze. You turned your back to her, trying to hide the shame you felt. "It hurts me because if that insignificant bitch thinks that i'm worthless, then there's no way i'm enough for the one who i really love..."

Alcinas breath hitched. Those were news she was not aware of. Has there been someone else this whole time? But who could it be the one who stole you heart? You never mentioned anything, and to her it looked like you were happy as you were, but she clearly was reading you wrong. She felt a sting in her chest. How could she have let something like that slip past her? Had she known you were unhappy... well, she could have taken care of that.

"What do you mean... who you love?"

"It's nothing." You said too quickly to be unsuspiciouis. "I've said too much. Please, i want-- i want to be alone right now." You tried to walk away, but before you even gave a step a strong hand held onto your wrist.

"Please, tell me."

The way Alcina asked, breathless, almost a whisper, made you turn back and confront her begging expression.

"I can't. I don't want to lose you, i'll be damned if--" You sighed. "I'm not enough."

Alcina's eyes widened.

Those beautiful golden eyes always enthralled you. The first time you saw them in that god forsaken forest you thought the journey was worth it if you got to see that pretty color. But now, they just filled you with sadness and made your stomach churn with anxiety.

"Is... Is it me? Please, i need to know."

Your breath catched in your throat. You let out a whimper and the tears flowed again.

"I'm sorry... i have to go." With a hard tug you freed your wrist from her grip and made a run for the stairs without looking back to the desperate shouts of Alcina begging you to stay.

You were no longer in sight, and not even the echo of your hurried footsteps could be heard. You slipped off her hands just like a handful of sand would.

She had you for a moment, completing the other half of her damaged heart, and the next second you were running away from her only leaving her broken heart behind.

Alcina didn't even notice the tears flowing out of her own eyes, too distracted by the faint smell of your perfume that was slowly dissipating.

She had you for a second, bringing up a new world of possibilities, where her dreams would not longer be impossible, only for them to be shattered mercilessly.

Alcina could feel her lungs being constricted, as if something were crushing her on the inside. Her eyes stung. Her heart hammered in her chest.

She had you... and then she lost you.

She hadn't alowwed herself to love for many, many years. She had prived herself from feeling any form of affection and caring that were not for her daughters and yet, her walls crumbled in a matter of days when she met you. She denied at first, tried to push you away but you, insufferable little thing, charmed your way into her heart and when she least expected it she was swooning at the sight of you eating whole turkey voraciously.

Was it worth it? The pain in her chest, the dissapointment, the stress? Well, she already knew the answer.

Kneeled on the library hallway Alcina made a decision.

Alcina stood up in a blink and did what she had not done in a very long time. She ran. Ran and ran as fast as her legs could carry her, down the stairs where you had run too.

She hoped it wasn't too late, she wished she hadn't taken that long to act, and she yearned to have you back in her arms.

The high heels were slowing her down, and she didn't hesitate to take them off while she ran, stumbling a bit but keeping the pace. She didn't care if it was not proper of a lady to run barefoot around the castle, hoisting her dress up in an attempt to cover more ground, you were more important than any propriety.

It's a good thing to have really long legs when your'e chasing someone, and even though Alcina was very out of breath she managed to reach you just in time as you were opening the front door.

"Wait!" She yelled, and you snapped your neck back to face her. The sight made your heart flutter and screech in pain at the same time. Alcina had gotten rid of her shoes, a good part of the skirt of her dress was strongly clutched under her arm. Her make up was smudged and you could tell she was sweating, something you had never seen her do. Her hair was ruffled and her hat was gone.

"Alcina..."

You tried to run again but Alcina was already running down the stairs and you didn't go too far outside before she clashed with you, her front to your back, circling your body with her arms while you both fell to the snowy ground.

"Wait! Please, please wait." Her ragged breath felt hot against the nape of your neck. Your glossy eyes made it hard for you to see, but you could feel her lips on your skin. "Don't go. Don't leave me. I--" She swallowed before speaking again. "Oh god, dear, i love you. Don't you understand?"

You let out a short, shaky breath. Did she really tell you that? you wonder.

"You... what?"

"You heard me. I love you." Alcina held you tighter, impossibly closer to her, and in her arms the horrible cold from the outside didn't faze you. "I love you, i love you, i love you. I'll tell you as many times as you need. I love you, please stay with me."

"You mean it?" Your voice was shaky, your breath was ragged from all the running, and your heart matched Alcina's own. "You really mean it?" You turned in her embrace, enough to face her, and she held you face with her hand. it was an awkard position, but there was nowhere else you wanted to be.

"I mean it..." And as she was teached that actions speak better than words, she leaned in to kiss you, capturing your lips with her own. You turned completely and wasted no time before kissing her again. And again and again.

"I loved you first." You said, letting out a wet giggle, all that crying really did a number on you. You tenderly tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, your touch lingering for a bit. "And if you let me, i'll love you until the end."

"I would like nothing more..." And she kissed you again, hungrily this time and you of course kissed back. "Also, i'll kill your ex. Life is a luxury your little bitch of ex-partner doesn't deserve."

"Alci no!"

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

If you like my work, buy me a coffee?

https://ko-fi.com/lenchisus

#lady dimitrescu x female reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu #re8 #my fic

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in-doing-so-he-floods-my-brain · 2 years ago

Text

Felix was having a few drinks with his friends, the conversation was going well, nothing out of the routine. Everything went great, everything, until it arrived... him.

Diego was one of his old friends, but honestly the man was disgusting with women and even though Felix tried to get along with everyone, that guy was difficult to deal with.

“Hey!! Serve me an one!” Diego asked for a drink. “What’s up, my friend?” He gave Felix a slight blow to the shoulder.

“Heyhh, how’s everything going? How long?”

A lot of time in fact, but not enough. The last time Félix saw Diego ended up in blows, he “commented” in an odiously vulgar way that he would love Pepa to “show him how slutty he could be.”

Clearly that made Felix burn, he pounced on him by hitting him several times until the type of fainting.

Pepa is an extremely BEAUTIFUL woman, many claimed that she is even the most beautiful woman in town. So it was nothing new that I had a huge line of suitors filling it with gifts, compliments and proposals of all kinds.

This is my first AU ahhhhh

Felix was never bothered by this, he was aware of the beauty he has as his wife, he would be a fool if he did not know it, and for the same reason he treats her like the queen she is. He is used to men’s comments about his wife, but if there is anything he can’t stand it is that they make really disgusting insinuations or proposals. Hell, someone should better educate the... guys.

“Oye hermano, lamento lo de la última vez” Diego se disculpó “Pero, vamos!!, sabes perfectamente la fama que tiene tu esposa, no soy el primero, ni seré el último hombre en querer acostarse con ella. De hecho, creo que muchos ya lo lograron” Se río.

That stupid laughter was enough. Felix took Diego by the shirt, holding him right in front of him.

“I’ll tell you up close to see if you understand. Most, if not, all the idiots who insinuate things about my wife see NOTHING but their stupid sex dreams. You can talk as much as you want because I will always be there to defend Pepa.”

He threw him to the floor, he was going to beat him, he wanted to hit him, a jerk as he deserved it, but he promised Pepa that he would not beat Diego again.

Felix finished his beer with a single drink, left some bills that would cover his consumption and left that place.

I try to calm down on the way home, but it was useless.

He arrived at a little house and the first thing he did was go to his room, where his beautiful wife rested. He would have liked to find Pepa asleep, but instead he found his spouse soaked in his own rain and sunk in tears.

He immediately ran to her, raised his wet face to give her a kiss.

“I thought you would be there later,” Pepa said.

“I didn’t feel like putting up with idiotic people,” Felix spat..

He gently pulled Pepa towards his shoulder and patted him slightly on the back.

“¿Qué te pasa mi vida?,Why are you crying?”

Pepa burst into tears at his words.

“Your friend Diego again,” he said in tears.

Felix’s fist tightened trying to stay calm. That good guy had not made his beautiful wife cry at all.

Another reason why Félix hated Diego was because he had been harassing Pepa several times, so whenever he could he accompanied her to the town.

He would have run away to kill that unhappy man had it not been for Pepa to hold on to him like a little girl with her dad.

“Ay mi vida, Don’t pay attention to everything that idiot tells you”

“It’s not just him, Felix”

“These people only speak because they have a language, don’t matter to it. Ignorant people who only think with the cock”

Pepa laughed at that comment. God, I loved that man.

They were curled up for a while until Pepa stopped crying.

She let go of her grip, sat on one of her clouds and took off her wet dress. There was something on his face, an expression that Felix knew but that he could not detect at the time.

Shit!!!! I had it. Lust. That look reflected nothing less than lust.

Could you resist the temptation when your wife exchanged her sadness for lust in a second, sitting in the sign of her pain barely dressed in a beautiful black set with lace and rhinestones?

Felix couldn’t.

#encanto #pepa madrigal #felix madrigal #pepa x felix #asks #julieta madrigal #my art #bruno madrigal #la familia madrigal #agustin madrigal #felix x pepa #writing encanto #encanto fanart #headcanon #anonymous #mirabel madrigal

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allandoflimbo · 3 years ago

Text

Ashens (Part 21)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4,800

Chapter Warning: Smut. Strong language. Non-consensual elements, but not non-con.

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

Full Masterpage |

Too many things have been different lately.

Between the both of you, there had been too many silences just like this, but this time it was different.

It was different because you knew your kiss with Pietro had affected Bucky. This time the silence was because Bucky was upset.

Back at the anti-climatic ball, after your meltdown with Pietro, you both spoke for a few more minutes before you excused yourself. Pietro was disappointed at your sudden departure, but he nodded, not digging any further. Before you’d left he had given you had address and he told you you could stop by whenever you wanted. He reminded you to stay safe with a kiss on your forehead.

He didn’t pry and you appreciated that. You put your ear piece back in and Bucky had taken extra long seconds to reply. The rest of the night his responses were one worded.

You both ended up finding Silas and Ashen’s men by the corner of the bar. You had eavesdropped and was able to confirm that the delivery tonight was for a tested cure for the virus and it was going to be administered to Ashen’s son, Ashens.

It was going to arrive at the back alley way at nine, but it wouldn’t even be administered until tomorrow afternoon. Ashens would be transferred from the tower to his home.

“We’re done here.” Bucky’s voice had come from your ear piece.

“What? We’re barely done.” You responded.

“Tonight is just the delivery. What I’m interested in is tomorrow. I’ll have to stake. Let’s go home.”

“Buck-“

“Meet you back where we were.”

beep.

The short walk to your hotel had been silent. Awkward.

You knew he had heard you. You were glad he did.

He deserved to know you had a choice in this. He also deserved to know you deserved better.

But what bothered you was that you knew the kiss bothered him but he was too proud to admit it to you.

You needed him to tell you. Him glooming was not doing you well.

Bucky had been frozen to the spot as he overheard you on the other end. He could move or breathe as he heard Pietro kissing you, as he heard you moaning for another man.

He could feel the blood pumping in his head along with the sudden feeling of pure regret.

He felt regret at not taking the initiative that he should have. He knows he has no right to feel the way he does right now, but he does. He feels the heartbreak and the jealousy over you kissing someone that wasn’t him.

He had been wanting to the last two weeks. At first, he had held himself back, now allowing himself to go down that path of intimacy, but it had began to get harder.

Bucky was going crazier for you, bit by bit.

He knew what you two had was only physical, and he knows he has no right to feel the way he does especially with how he had pushed you away, but he regrets it all.

He regrets the way he handled it.

What killed him the most about Pietro kissing you though, was the fact that Pietro was clearly a better guy for you.

Something Bucky could never be.

Not that you even wanted him anymore.

It took him two months to finally want you for more than sex and you had moved on.

He couldn’t speak to you. Not when it hurt him so much. Not when you drove him crazy the way you did.

He could still feel his heart beating just as quickly as it had an hour ago. What he felt around you didn’t even compare to how he felt around Daisy.

His relationship with Daisy had been carefree and easy.

You were a hurricane.

He wishes he could tell you everything he’s feeling, but he knows it’s for the best that he doesn’t.

You both take the elevator up to your room, silently. His eyes stays on the floor, his hands in his pockets.

Look at me. You think to yourself. Tell me what you’re thinking.

After walking through the door to your room, you turn around to face him.

You couldn’t see his face. He had been quick to avoid you and he was already turning the other way, making his way towards the bed.

The bed where he took your heart many times and squeezed it his fingers.

Little did you know that you had been doing the same to his.

His silence was overbearing and your heart tore at his facial expression.

He didn’t hold that blank look he usually held when he didn’t want to show emotions.

This time he bared it all for you. His face was fallen and he was trying his best to keep it down.

You hated this silence. You hated the lack of communication that complicated this relationship.

You and Bucky no longer made any sense.

This wasn’t sex without feelings. This was far from it.

You had expected to gain so much more after your kiss from Pietro - freedom and strength. Instead, you felt confused.

He was still quiet and the tension in the loft was thick.

“What are we doing?” You asked breathlessly, breaking the ice and literally mentioning the elephant in the room.

What was this?

You watched as he loosened his black tie from around his neck, pulling it up over his sharp jaw and head.

“I don’t know.” He says quietly. His voice sounds broken, life he was on the brink of giving up.

He sits down gently, and the bed sinks down with him.

He reaches down and removes each of his dress shoes one by one. He does it slowly.

You walk up to him and stare down at him in a clouded daze of mixed emotions.

He’s stopped and reluctantly looked up at you, eyes pausing at your hands for just a moment first.

Your face showed him that you were begging him to communicate, begging him to get off his chest what he needed.

It hurt you that he couldn’t do it.

Again, he was unhappy about your kiss with Pietro and you needed him to tell you why.

Bucky’s eyes fell back to the floor and he blinked away whatever it was.

He pushed off his jacket started unbuttoning his white dress shirt.

“Go to bed, sweetheart.” He says with heavy emotion in his voice. It almost breaks off at the end with how much feeling he puts into the words.

His term of endearment shocks you to the core. Your heart swells deep within your chest. This is the first time since you’ve met him where he’s ever used this tone and addressed you this way before.

You’re gaping as you watch him continue to unbutton his shirt. His fingers were meticulously. Somehow in a dystopian and near apocalyptic word he still kept his nails trimmed and perfect.

Something so small that could go unnoticed but that said so much about his personality.

You find yourself moving closer until his knee is touching your left leg.

You feel the heat of his body radiating off yours. You reach down and touch his hand, stopping him from unbuttoning.

He stops and swallows hard.

He could feel the heat of your fingers on his own and it makes him ache inside.

What’s happening to me?

“You want to know why I kissed him?” Bucky’s gaze stays on the floor. He doesn’t respond. No I don’t, “I wanted my first kiss to be with someone who didn’t take it for granted. For the first time, I wanted to be the one who made the correct choice,” you let go of his hand, “but you already knew that, didn’t you?” Bucky inhales deeply and returns to undoing the last few buttons. Bucky shakes the shirt off his shoulders and then stands up to go hang it in the closet. He walks right past you, not saying a word. You close your eyes tightly together, “Talk to me.” You beg.

You turn around as he’s hanging the shirt on one of the hangers.

His jaw is tight. You can tell his teeth are clenched and he’s holding whatever he wants to say, in.

He moves onto his dress pants, removing them until he’s in his boxers, and then he pulls out a pair of grey sweats, slipping them on.

He grabs a black T-shirt and puts it on, too.

He walks past you, still not looking at you.

Without thinking, you reach your arm out to grab him, and he stumbles back like you’ve burned him. You’re shocked at his reaction and your eyes go from your hands to his own eyes. Your heart shatters immediately.

He gapes down at your hands and you can see the fear and intense sadness in his eyes.

You take a step closer to him and he gulps as you slowly bring your hand up to run over his hard torso and eventually up the side of his neck. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth to keep it from trembling.

You look up into his eyes as you play with the short hair on the back of his neck.

“Please.” It’s the first time he’s also begged you in such a small voice. His eyes close halfway as he whispers, “Please, no.”

You feel the need to comfort him; to comfort this man who has done nothing but hurt you the way he’s hurting right now.

You grasp the back of his neck with your whole hand, shaking your head to yourself as you do so. His head hangs low, eyes still closed.

“I’m not doing anything,” you whisper, “what are you so afraid of?” He opens his eyes and looks away from you. He lifts his head and looks out towards the window behind you. He reaches behind his head and takes your hand, pulling it off his skin.

“Please, let’s go to sleep.” He says softly.

You watch in a daze as he spins around and walks down the hall and into the bathroom.

He needed a moment to breathe. He needed a moment to catch his breath and think.

After splashing his face with some cold water and brushing his teeth, he walks back into the room to see you already changed into a pearl colored silk camisole.

The edges graze your thighs as you crawl up the bed and towards your pillow.

The water did nothing to help him.

He still kept hearing the way you moaned as you gave away your first kiss.

All to get a reaction out of him.

Bucky flicks off the remaining light in the loft, his lamp, and crawls into bed next to you.

He pulls the comforter up until it’s halfway up his chest and he pulls at his hair, look up at ceiling and letting out a long breath.

If only you knew the affect you were having on him. If only you knew how much he cared about you.

Your mind was else where than his.

You felt a need for vengeance. You needed him to hurt. Just like you had told Pietro, you couldn’t let him do what he was doing to you anymore. He needed to respect you and if he wasn’t going to own up to his feelings and finally speak to you, you were going to move on.

You had Pietro now, anyway.

So you had a plan.

“I want you to fuck me.” You say quietly, looking out the window.

There’s a long pause before he replied.

“I’m not having sex with you tonight.” He tells you in a quiet voice.

You flip around until you’re staring at him. He’s on his back, looking up at the ceiling, a far away look in his eyes.

How dare he be the only one to make the choice?

You spread your legs a little wider and reached down between your legs. You reached under the band of your underwear and cupped yourself.

You kept staring at the side of his face, silently asking him to look your way. He didn’t budge but you could tell he knew what you were doing. If your soft moan and the shift of the bed was any conciliation.

He blinked and swallowed thickly.

This was all he was good for now. He lost his chance and your respect, and all he was now to you was a human dildo.

As much as he wanted to tell you how he changed his mind about giving it a try and as much as he wanted to tell you how he was starting to feel, part of him was still afraid. He was afraid of his emotions getting in the way and of him losing you.

Especially when you now had a chance to be happy with someone else; someone so much better than him.

As much as he wanted your touch and your caresses, he needed to push you away. Push you into the right direction.

You were hurting him and you didn’t even know it. Him pushing you away when he needed you, pained him.

You let out another moan. He closes his eyes, turning his face away from you.

You were hurting him.

“Please, y/n.” His voice came out in a whimper.

You removed your hand from yourself, half sat up, and looked down at him. He still had that same sad look in his eyes.

Two can play that game.

You sensually dragged your fingers that had just been on your core over his bottom lip. You watch him for a reaction.

His eyes flashed to yours, stunned at your move, and you stared at your fingers on his mouth just as shocked.

Was this what anger pushed you to do? Vengeance?

You found yourself panting as you continued to touch his lips.

Slowly, he grabbed your hand. You could see what was only the lingering of tears in his blues.

There it was.

“You fucked me nearly every day for the last two months. And the one time I want you to fuck me the most, the one time, you say no.” you say quietly. He swallows thickly, “you’ve used my body for two months,” your voice shakes and he blinks, his eyes burning, “I’m just asking you to do it again. As a friend. It’s not that hard, right?”

You could feel your own words hurt in your throat at your words.

You slowly lean down, laying half your body on top of his. He closes his eyes, sucking in a shaky deep breath. You lean down until your face in the crook of his neck, on his pillow.

Bucky gulped at the proximity, feeling his heart race like mad.

“If you can’t say what you want to say, if you’re too weak for that, you can at least show me using your body.”

You ran that same hand that was touching yourself down his neck and over his chest. You find the bottom of his shirt and you slide your hand underneath, feeling his hot skin.

“I don’t want to do this.” He whispers, pained.

He almost changes his mind when he feels your hand change direction, going under his sweats.

But you stop just below his navel.

As much as you wanted to convince him and push him off the edge, you also didn’t want to breach the line of consent.

Your touch was so gentle it burned through his skin and Bucky took it in. He closed his eyes tightly together, a soft cry leaving the break of his lips.

He was crying.

You lift your face from his pillow, looking down at him to watch.

He wasn’t sobbing but there was definitely tears leaking from his eyes. One drop runs down the far corner of his eye.

He lets out a long shakey breath, still looking up at he ceiling. You feel his left hand grab the back of your head and he rubs your head. You feel his legs widen slightly and you wonder if it’s an invitation for you to continue.

The proximity of your faces shocks you when he turns his head to the side to face you.

You can feel his breath hitting your face. And you lips are only inches apart. You watch him in awe as he continues to rub your head, his eyes searching yours as another tear leaks from his blue orbs.

He rubs his nose against yours, suddenly wanting to give you everything.

When you finally take him in your hand, Bucky’s eyes close together tightly. You give him two slow pumps before you maneuver yourself so you are laying on top of him.

He watches you in a daze like you’re a siren and he’s a pirate who’s been summoned.

You stretch your hands over next to his head, taking his in your own. Your camisole is pushed up to your waist and you sloppily kick off your underwear.

He leans his head up until it’s in the crook of your neck.

“Not like this.” He says quietly. You don’t know what’s he’s talking about. You continue pushing his bottoms down until the back band is under his ass and until you see his length slip out. The tip is already oozing pre cum, now dropping onto his black shirt.

You feel the need to pour all your emotions into this fuck.

You swirl your hips and rub down until your folds are sliding over his tip, the velvety skins touching each other like two pieces if expensive silk.

Bucky involuntarily bucks his hips at the feeling.

You let out a delicious moan.

“What are we without sex, Bucky?” You whisper, breathe hitting off his forehead, “This is all we’re good for, can’t you see that?” You grunt, sliding down until he’s half sheathed inside of you, “You’ve only treated me horribly, since the day I met you. You’ve never once gave me the chance to gain your honor, oh fuck, but this, this you always knew how to take from me, to give me—“

“Stop,” he begs, breathing harshly into your neck.

“You might be a great fuck and a good friend, but you’re not a good person.” You continue to fuck yourself on his rod, rubbing your nose against his as your harsh breaths mingle together, “but that’s okay,” you put your left hand on the side of his neck, rubbing him tenderly there, “you’re good for this.”

A struggled and very loud moan escapes Bucky’s throat and you feel his right hand go to your waist, stopping you.

You put you hand on his, releasing its grip, continuing to move over him.

You watch as more tears fall out of Bucky’s eyes, his eyes snapping to yours.

“You’ve gotta stop.” He whimpers.

You can’t tell if he’s talking about the things you are saying or the fucking, but he’s a super solider and you know that if he was talking about the sex, he would’ve had more than the strength to fully stop you by now.

You purr as you look down between your legs.

“Look how perfect your cock was made for me.” You say. Bucky moans, looking down with you, his own hips pushing up to meet your down stokes, “that’s it. You hate me, don’t you?” Bucky’s hips falter and his eyes snap to your face.

“Wha—“

“That’s right, you do. I deserve this. I deserve your anger, right? Never did anything bad to you a day in my life but I still deserve it.“

Bucky was close to edge seconds ago, but with each word you’re saying, he feels the need to correct you and he no longer want to cum anymore.

This was wrong. Everything about this was utterly wrong.

“You don’t, y/n—“ He tries to tell you before you cut him off again.

You’ve never felt anger like this. Never.

“Fucking fuck me, Bucky. For just one night pretend I’m her, fuck me like I’m her.” Bucky’s heart falls hard into his stomach and he sits up, stopping.

“Stop.”

“Please.” You beg through clenched teeth, “you’ve already made me suffer enough finish the damn job.”

“Stop!” He shouts, grabbing you by the waist and pushing your off of his body.

He looked shocked as he stared down at you, his still wet tears running down his face.

“Are you serious?” You say back to him as he stands up.

He’s running his hands through his hair, pulling on the strands as more tears fall out of his eyes.

His mouth opens and closes a few times as he stares down at you, still at lost for words.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” He shouts, stumbling back.

You take a note of how his cock is an angry red, bobbing up against his belly. Catch you, he pulls his boxers and pants up all the way.

“Did I say something that triggered you?” You ask through heavy pants. How does it feel to be on the other end? You want to add.

He’s breathing hard too as he watches you. His face was crest fallen and broken.

He looks you up and down, sniffing.

“You’ve gotta stop this,” he whispers harshly, his volume growing with each word, “whatever it is you’re trying to do.”

“What am I trying to do?”

His face crumbles.

“You’re purposely trying to hurt me!” His yell stuns you, “It’s hurting me!”

You’re both trying to catch your breath as you stare at each other. “All night that’s what you’ve been doing. You think I wanted to hear you kissing him? You think I want to fuck you like this? You think I wish it went down this way?” His voice becomes a whine. He closes his eyes and looks away from you running a hand down his face.

You tilt your head as his last question.

“What went down what way?” He lets out a pained chuckle, “What way, James?”

“Forget it Im sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“What went down what way?!” You shout, banging your fist down on the bed, “You tell me right now or I swear to fucking god, Bucky, I am walking out that door right now and never coming back. I’m giving you a chance right now. Im giving you a chance to make this right.”

Your mini lecture gives him enough time to catch his breath and compose himself. It finally dawns on him and a look of disgust fills his face. He tilts his head at you.

“So that’s what this was? So that’s why you fucked me just now? To persuade me into a fucking guilt trip? This borderline non consensual—”

“—Don’t be dramatic.”

“And then you talk about you feeling used. I’m just a guy, Y/N.”

You both stared each other down. You suck in a deep breath as you take the hair tie from around your wrist and begin to tie up your hair into a bun.

“I’m so fucking over you. I really am. I was lying about the using me for sex part. It’s obviously the only time we ever communicate anyway. I do get that out of it.”

“Yeah that makes me feel so much better,” he reaches down to grab the pillow and before he can take it, you grab it, “give me the damn pillow.”

“Stop closing up on me.”

“Give. Me. The. Pillow.” You don’t budge, “I don’t have the patience for this. Especially after you almost jeopardized our entire mission with your little stunt today. Which was reckless and completely irresponsible by the way.”

“Stunt?”

“Please, you put on a fucking show as you stuck your tongue down his throat just so I could hear and then you turned off your damn ear piece. This is why I’ve always said you’ve always been a girl who acts on emotion. Give. Me the pillow.”

“You’re lying.”

His eyes twitched.

“What?”

“That’s not the deal reason you’re upset. You’re upset because I hit a nerve.”

He seethes, looking you up and down again.

“Look. What you did here tonight was the lowest of the low.”

“You don’t communicate.” You say.

“What do you want me to say, sweetheart?”

“I want you to tell me why me kissing him bothered you so much you couldn’t say one damn word to me.”

“It doesn’t matter why it does or doesn’t bother me." “Of course it matters. It means something.” “It means shit. Just because it might bother me on some level it doesn’t mean I’m going to stop you from being happy, okay? You want to go ahead and kiss and sleep with other men, that’s you doing you. We were never exclusive.” “Sure so that’s why you overreacted so much —”

“—You didn’t even give me a heads up! We had sex just an hour before you told me you were going on a date with the guy, y/n.”

“And that’s what made you cry?” After that question it goes silent. He avoids your eye and attempts to take the pillow again, “Bucky. Please.”

He licks his lips and looks up at you.

“I can’t tell you what you want to hear because it doesn’t matter anymore.” He tries to take the pillow again and this time you let him. He hooks it under your arm.

“Are you going to sleep there because of what I did to you?” He looks up at you and then looks away. He reaches over you to take one of the throw blankets, “Bucky?”

You reach over to touch his face and he flinches at first. This makes you pull away first.

“I didn’t mean to scare you or make you feel like I was taking advantage of you.” You whisper.

He looks down at your lips.

“I might be a super soldier and an ex assassin but I’m still just a man.” He says quietly. You nod, reaching for the back of head, and pulling him into you for an embrace which he gladly accepts, "You can't do that again."

He leans his forehead on your shoulder, inhaling your sweet sent.

“Please stay here tonight.”

“Okay. I’ll stay.” He gives your shoulder a kiss, “I’ll stay. I’ll always stay.” He assures you as he feels you trembling beneath him.

He pulls away, cupping your face as he does so. He looks down at you and you share a silent conversation.

This was different.

This time, he’s the one who rolls your dress up until it’s bunched around your waist.

You’re both breathing quickly as you watch him push his sweats and boxers down.

You whimper at the sigh of him, and he guides you a little lower, but you’re still halfway sat up. He runs his right hand from your core up the inside of your left thigh, widening yourself for him.

He’s knelt down between you, his lips still lingering over your shoulder. He grabs your right thigh and pulls it up so it’s bent feet down on the bed. His left hand goes to your back, right over your bottom.

You whimper again when you feel him drag his cock over your clit over and over again, and then finally down your soaking slit. His nose hits the side of yours and you’re both staring deeply into each others eyes.

“I got you,” he tells you, “I got you.” He repeats, sliding into you. His thrusts are steady and hard. He watches your face as you gasp and moan, your right hand going into his hair and pulling on it. You’re both like that for about three minutes until he lays you fully back onto the bed.

He watches as you unravel below him and he can’t imagine not living like this anymore. He doesn’t remember what he even did before you entered the picture. He doesn’t want to.

He stretches his arms around on either side of your head, keeping his thrusts steady.

“Fuck.”

“I won’t stop.” He tells you breathlessly.

You clench around him and this makes him groan loudly.

He feels his end approaching embarrassingly fast and he reaches down to give your clit some flicks.

On the fifth flick you come undone and he follows you right behind, cumming inside of you. Your legs wrap around him like a vice and he falls on of you. Both your hands run through his hair as he breaths harshly into your neck.

He doesn’t pull out of you this time and you don’t let him.

This time he falls asleep in your arms.

For you, it’s the last time.

I won't hide the ways I've tried It's just not right, it's killing me tonight

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cas-kingdom · 4 years ago

Text

Dad

A/N: Thank you to my anons for helping me come up with some perfectly Geralt-like explanations of parenthood. <3

Despite the summary, Geralt doesn't outright call Akela his daughter in a couple of these, but the point of the story is to show how he can call her that without actually saying it, if that makes sense. Still fluffy and (dangerously) sweet! Also a nice little Yennefer-Geralt scene here.

While writing number 4, I listened to 'Scared' by Jeremy Zucker.

Title: Dad

Summary: Three times Geralt called you his daughter, and the one time you called him ‘Dad’.

Words: 4607

“I knocked it off the cart.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Why would I try to steal something I have money to pay for?”

The old man’s face turned sourer, if that was at all possible. “Oh, you have money?” He expectantly stretched his hand out, palm up as his fingers twitched. “Pay me, then!”

You rolled your eyes. “But I’m not buying them!”

“You tried to steal them!”

“I did not!”

“I saw you!”

“What you saw,” you spat out, leaning forward, face the picture of anger, “was me bumping against your cart and knocking a couple apples off—which I apologised for.”

A noise somewhere between frustration and rage spewed from the man’s mouth and he shot his arm forward like a snake striking to attack, grasping the front of your tunic and tugging you forward. “Listen here, girl—”

You clenched your fists and readied to bite back, but before you even had a chance, the man’s hands were ripped from you, and he was shoved away.

“Get your hands off her,” a stony voice ground out, voice brooking no argument. Geralt stood tall and menacing in front of the hunched old man, head tilted slightly to the side as he glared at him. He knew you were often capable of looking after yourself, proven clearly when you stepped beside him and a look of smugness appeared on your face, but he also knew that that would likely never change how much the anger flourished inside him when he saw someone lay their hands on his child in a way such as this.

The old man pointed a shaky finger at Geralt. “You stay out of this, Sir!”

You scoffed, and Geralt spared a glance down at you, briefly raising a brow. “What, exactly, am I supposed to be staying out of?”

“The little bitch tried to steal my produce!”

“I didn’t!”

“The little bitch,” Geralt said, holding out an arm to stop you from lunging, “is my daughter. And if you ever speak in that manner to her again, you won’t be able to speak another word.”

The man looked ready to respond with vigour, but at the last moment his eyes averted to the sword and the daggers at Geralt’s waist, and the cogs in his brain began to turn as his vision wandered up to the white hair and the amber eyes. He shut his mouth and stepped back, resigned.

“Forgive me,” he said. He appeared as though he was ready to run before he grabbed one of the apples you had knocked off his cart and pressed it into your hands, a forced and nervy smile showing on his lips. “Here, take this!”

Your eyes lit up and you smiled victoriously, taking a bite from it and turning to walk off as you called back a quick, “Thank you!”

Geralt sighed deeply and hummed, giving the man a final glare before following after you. “He was right. You are a little bitch,” he remarked.

You grinned and tossed the apple in the air, the sunlight glinting on the green fruit as though in triumph. You handed it to him and watched as he relented with a roll of his eyes and took a bite. “Waste not, want not!”

“What’s it like?”

Geralt lifted his head to look at Yennefer. She was lying on her side opposite the fire, her head resting in her hand, and she seemed contemplative. Curious, in a way, which was odd for her, though what could he really say about that? It wasn’t as though he’d known her long.

“I’m sorry?” he asked.

Yennefer jerked her head in the direction he’d been staring in for the majority of the past ten minutes, where you were fast asleep, curled under blankets, head beside Jaskier’s, who was wandering in the land of dreams himself.

He looked at you a moment longer before turning back to the mage. A hint of his own confusion danced in his eyes, but she spoke before he could open his mouth to question what it was that she meant.

“Parenthood,” she clarified, her voice softening. “What’s it like?”

Geralt rose an eyebrow, briefly floundering for words at the, quite frankly, surprising question. For a woman who was all invulnerability and strength, it was something he hadn’t expected to come from her. Not to mention he didn’t often think about what she’d asked.

He glanced away and shook his head. “More trouble than it’s worth,” he told her with a short breath of a laugh.

The corners of Yennefer’s lips drew upwards. She fidgeted with a stone on the forest floor. “I’m serious.”

His other eyebrow shot up. “So am I,” he assured her. “She may seem sweet, but underneath it all is the monster I’m most afraid to go up against.” He offered her a rare smile, which she returned, and for the first time in a while both mage and witcher felt peaceful. It was blissfully quiet—the only sound being Jaskier’s snores and incoherent mumbles—and it was dark, giving the two the serenity they needed after the trials of the previous days.

“It’s… hard,” he said seriously, despite the fact he was admitting that he, the infamous Geralt of Rivia, found something difficult. “You learn new things every day.”

“What kind of things?”

“Everything. About yourself, about her, about the world in general… you make decisions you probably would never have thought about before. You have responsibilities you wouldn’t have believed would ever be associated with you.” He let his eyes wander over to your sleeping form. “You don’t know what the hell you’re doing most of the time. You can feel so… so lost at it, right until you start to realise the only thing that’s keeping you grounded is the same thing that gave you the title of father. It…” He paused, leaning forward to poke a stick into the dying fire. “It gives you something to live for, and at the time I found Y/N, that was what I needed most.”

Yennefer’s lips curled into a smile as she slowly sat up, tucking her legs underneath her. “It sounds tiring,” she said, glancing down for a moment, and Geralt nodded.

“It is. But the rewards outweigh the difficulties. It’s something you’d give up everything to keep.” He looked across at her, noticing her loosened shoulders, and realised for the first time that he took his title of father for granted. Yennefer’s mutations had made her sterile, and though he was the same, he’d still somehow found a way to get past that, even though he’d never once pondered on the possibilities of it before he’d found you. Yennefer hadn’t been so lucky, and as he looked at her, he found that that reflected perfectly in the eyes he now viewed as… sad.

“You’ll feel that someday,” he said without thinking, and when she glanced up, he nodded in your direction. “When you have your own.”

Yennefer gazed at him, violet eyes piercing the amber of his. They stared at each other for a moment, no words passing their lips but every meaningful word being said nonetheless, until Jaskier snorted in his sleep and the both of them ripped their eyes away, returning to their stone and their stick.

“Thank you, Witcher,” Yennefer spoke up a moment later, and Geralt nodded once.

“You’re welcome, Mage.”

Geralt turned his head down to look at you. You were standing beside him, absently tugging on the neckline of the dress you’d bought from a market that very morning. You were clearly irritated, sighing in annoyance and muttering under your breath every so often.

When you noticed him looking, you shook your head, face every bit unhappy. “I don’t want to be here,” you ground out.

He rose an eyebrow. “Clearly.”

“Why are we here again?”

“Lord Lyon invited us.”

“And how do you—” You scratched at the back of your neck, the foreign material rubbing it raw—“know Lord Lyon?”

Geralt glanced down again and frowned, slapping your hands away from your red neck. “I saved his sister from a werewolf,” he said, instinctively tucking a few strands of hair that hadn’t made it into your plait behind your ear, “and he insisted my attendance at his feast tonight.”

You rose an eyebrow at that, finally relenting in your fiddling and letting your arms hang loosely. “Your attendance,” you picked out. “I could have stayed at the inn.” He ignored that, as you expected, and you sighed, shoulders slacking. “You never usually care for extra repayment,” you said. And it was true. He didn’t. He preferred to do his duty as a witcher and not stick around to see the aftermath of his hunt, except to accept his money. He didn’t care for physical shows of thanks. It was better that way, for you and for him. But he’d, for once, genuinely been concerned for the lord’s sister, so he’d accepted the invitation with the intention of only staying long enough to gain information on her wellbeing before leaving.

Geralt lifted his chin as he noticed a familiar man enrobed in silk and jewels walking towards you. He took in a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the conversation ahead of undoubtedly mindless babble about his life and anything else the lord wished to ask him.

“And you never usually say no to free food,” he remarked quietly to you before forcing a tight smile at the open-armed, freely grinning man when he stopped in front of him.

“Geralt of Rivia!” he greeted, and you turned your head to meet him, only just refraining from raising your brows at the sight that met your eyes. You weren’t used to seeing royalty or regality of any sort, so you were never one to shy from your overly dramatic opinions of how these people dressed and carried themselves. You were quite certain all the clothes on your body wouldn’t amount to the price of a single ring on his finger, even though you’d had to beg Geralt for weeks to buy you the new leather boots on your feet now, just about hidden by your long dress.

Geralt had made an attempt to dress nicely, too. He’d washed and brushed his hair—and made several mock lunges (and one actual one) for you when you’d continued to tease him about it—and was wearing clothes that, though giving him an extremely regal look of his own, seemed unfamiliar to you. You much preferred him in his loose tunics and trousers, hair muddy and tangled in knots that he wouldn’t give a shit about until he needed to (which was barely ever, unless you were counting surprise and sudden invites to feasts such as this).

“Lord Lyon,” Geralt said with a small nod. “How is your sister?”

The lord reached forward to clap him on the shoulder, and this time, you did raise a brow, knowing your witcher’s dislike for such actions. Sure enough, Geralt’s smile grew tighter, and you could see the lines on his forehead become more pronounced. Perhaps in different circumstances—definitely in different circumstances—you would have laughed at his predicament, despite his clear discomfort, nevertheless this time you had to do with quickly turning your head to the side and stifling a grin.

“My sister fares well!” Lyon told him, not removing his hand. “She’s been asleep since you returned her safely to me, but the healers assure me she will make a full recovery. Thank you again for your unforgettable help, my friend!”

“Thank you for inviting me here tonight.”

Lyon stepped back, finally letting his hand drop to his side, and the corners of your lips twitched when Geralt subconsciously rolled his shoulder. “Well, this is the only other way I could think of repaying you when coin did not seem enough. A good meal!” It was at this moment, when you were shuffling from foot to foot in boredom, almost reverting back to your scratching and tugging, that Lyon noticed you, and he rose both eyebrows, glancing between you and Geralt. “And who might this be?”

“Y/N,” Geralt introduced, stopping you with a firm hand to your shoulder. You looked up at the lord, offering a smile. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought her.”

Lyon tilted his head slightly to the side in obvious interest, disregarding Geralt’s last sentence with a wave of his hand. “You mean she’s yours? Your daughter?”

You continued to stare at the man in front of you, unbothered. You were well used to being called his daughter—it was easier for him to agree when people asked if you were, and you sometimes wondered when exactly he’d given up on correcting people. If he’d ever corrected people in the first place.

“Your daughter?” Lyon repeated at Geralt’s lack of response.

“Yes.”

“I thought… well.” He looked a little sheepish, but Geralt was all too aware of what was coming. “I was always told that the trials witchers underwent made them—”

Geralt interrupted him before he could continue. “They did. I am.” He squeezed your shoulder. “She’s not mine by blood. But she is mine.”

Lyon stared a while, thinking to himself, before he abruptly smiled in acceptance. “Very good. Though I would never have taken you for the parent type.”

“My apologies,” Geralt said, inclining his head, “but you don’t know me well enough to make that assumption.”

A soft smile graced your lips and you glanced down to the ground, your heart swelling with love you could only ever feel for him.

“Quite right.” Lyon was clearly apologetic. He opened an arm out and motioned for the two of you to follow him. “Come, let us eat. You can tell us all exactly how you killed that werewolf!”

The hilariously dismayed look Geralt sent you after that made you snort.

How had it come to this?

“Geralt?” you whispered, daring to edge closer. He looked so pale, even in the short rays of moonlight radiating down. His skin was pallid, white hair muddied and hanging in knots around his face. His eyes were shut, his lips were set in a straight line, and even as you shook his shoulder, he did not move.

He did not move.

Geralt always moved. He had long since trained himself to wake at the first sound or touch that did or didn’t come from you. And yet now, even as you doubled your attempts and shook him so hard you were sure he’d be disorientated were he awake… he remained still. Still and silent. Completely dead to the world.

Dead.

Your heart soared, not for the first time, and you sat back on your haunches for a moment, staring with eyes as wide as the yellow moon looming over head. It was almost as though your unconscious mind was waiting for him to wake up. Willing him to wake up. Because you knew good and fucking well that without him, the point of remaining in the living was completely lost on you.

Reluctantly, your mind swiftly hurled you back. Back into damn memories of the swings of his sword and his shouts of exertion and pain as he fought with the monster that had suddenly stormed where you’d been resting. You should have stayed behind the rocks as he’d ordered… you shouldn’t have listened to the clash of metal hitting sturdy skin and bone… and you certainly shouldn’t have jumped up from behind the rock and screamed his name, leading him to whirl around in panic and giving the beast time to throw him against a large boulder. You could still remember the sickening crack of his head hitting the solid stone. That would have been the perfect time to scream his name, but you’d found that no words had been able to escape your clenched throat. You’d felt like you were being strangled, and your heart had stopped beating for the longest second as you’d watched with absolute terror…

He’d been telling you a story. You’d been lying beside him, exhausted eyes staring up at the starry sky as his voice lulled you to sleep. You couldn’t even remember what the story had been about, all you’d been focused on was the comfort his voice offered, and for that reason you had not registered at all when he’d abruptly stopped speaking. He’d waited a moment, eyes narrowed, before quietly standing to his feet, picking up his sword as he went. All his senses had been alert, and were he an animal, his ears would have been pricked up and forwards, listening for any noise that sounded at all abnormal.

He’d taken calculated steps forward, hands tight around his sword’s hilt, boots making no sound as he stepped over fallen leaves and twigs. And then he’d stopped, standing completely still, save for his eyes, which roved the area in front of him. He’d turned his head the slightest bit and harshly whispered your name, but it had not been enough to rouse you, and you’d stayed sleeping until less than three seconds later when what you now believed to have been a kikimora burst from the cover of the trees, screaming raucously and lunging towards Geralt. You’d bolted upright and he’d yelled at you to hide yourself as his sword came clashing down on the thing, not waiting to see if you’d done as was asked before moving to attempt to lead the monster away.

That had been only three minutes ago. One and a half minutes ago, he’d been thrown against the boulder. One minute ago, he’d managed to use the last of his strength to pierce the beast’s hide with a cloying crunch, mixing with both his and the kikimora’s shrieks of agony. You had looked on with trembling hands as it fell to the side, completely unmoving, and watched, waited, for Geralt to stand to his feet.

When he hadn’t, you’d taken one trembling step forward, hands cold and in fists at your sides, before running the rest of the way, not caring in the least that there was a possibility the monster might still be alive. All you’d cared about was the possibility that Geralt might not be.

You stared at him now, hopefully waiting for his eyelids to flicker, or a finger to twitch… but there was no movement.

You shook him again, harder now, but it didn’t work, and with a desperation you had never felt before, and your breathing quicker than ever, you hurried closer towards him, grabbing the sides of his face and shaking him, slapping him, hitting him… anything that had a chance of waking him.

“Geralt!” you shouted, voice cracking. You slapped him again, pausing only when you felt something wet and sticky coat your right hand. When you pulled it back, the sight of red met your eyes.

You stared at it for a moment, hands shuddering, before the red and the blackness of everything else melded into one as tears filled your eyes. A tightening of your throat and a short intake of breath was all that was heard before gut-wrenching sobs tore through your chest and you fell forward, clutching your bloody hand to your chest and squeezing your eyes shut as your grief poured from you in an onslaught of irrepressible tears.

“Please, please, wake—wake up!” you choked out, your forehead resting against his chest, hands gripping his ragged tunic. “Please! I can’t—I can’t—Please! Geralt! You can’t die! You’re a witcher! Witchers don’t die! Wake up!”

But he didn’t.

You harshly breathed in with as much effort as you could muster, and the smell of blood overpowered your senses… yet, at the same time, there was still that hint of forest and greenery which made him Geralt. The scent that was often the only thing that could make you fall asleep. The scent that you only had to catch for a moment before you immediately calmed. The scent that, even now, amidst your hiccups and sobs, caused the briefest feeling of serenity to swirl through you before it vanished as the new, metallic aroma abruptly tickled at your nose.

Another sob racked your body when the scent disappeared and you shook your head. “Daddy…” It came out as a mewling whine, so broken and utterly devastating that it would have made even the heartless cry along with you, but there was no other sound… no other noise in the darkness of the forest around you except the guttural cries wrenching from your throat.

It was the feeling of being alone which scared you the most. The feeling of… being without the one person who’d ever made an ounce of sense to you. The one person you loved more than life itself and who probably loved you even more than that.

You would rather die alongside him than live in a world you knew he no longer walked in.

A moment passed, and you sat there, hunched over with your head on his chest and your tired hands slowly slacking in their hold on his tunic. Your eyes were red and swollen, cheeks wet and tracking the mud and blood which had inadvertently transferred from his clothing to your face, and you were shaking so much that when a slight tremor rippled beneath you, you took no notice of it whatsoever.

At an exhausted yet almost incoherent groan, you blinked, opening your eyes despite it doing nothing against the blackness of you face pressed to him. You tried to silence your cries as much as you could, holding your breath, not quite willing to believe it but hoping more than you’d ever hoped before all the same.

“Fuck…”

And you bolted upright, your eyes blinking against the blurriness. You wiped at them, your heart thumping, blood pulsing through your distraught and exhausted body, and looked on with shock as Geralt—yes, Geralt!—slowly raised his arm and brought his hand to the back of his head. His eyes squeezed tightly shut as his brows furrowed in obvious pain.

“My fucking head,” he rasped out, and you let loose a noise of relief, suddenly and without warning bursting into tears once again. You launched forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his chest. He groaned and finally opened his eyes to peer down at the mop of hair in his line of vision.

He gulped down the sickly feeling in his gut as best he could, trying to make sense of his surroundings, and after a moment the memories returned to him, causing him to shut his eyes once more at the force of it. He returned his attention to you, lowering his hand to place it on the back of your head.

When your sobs grew, his frown deepened and he tried to lift his own head, swallowing back bile when the throbbing ache increased. He felt nauseatingly terrible and instead dropped his head back to the hard rock below him. “Hey…” he whispered. His voice was hoarse and he didn’t really trust the words coming from his mouth. “It’s alright.”

You shook your head. “N-no! It is-isn’t! I thought you were dead!”

He sighed unsteadily and moved his trembling fingers through your hair, trying his best to block out the discomfort (which was a nice word for agony). “I’m not dead,” he told you, and you finally lifted your head, showing him the extent of your hysteria. You looked as though you’d been bawling for years, and he shook his head softly, raising his other arm to wrap around you and pull you back towards him. His head was pounding, he knew he was bleeding in more places than one, but to be perfectly honest, he was simply happy to be alive, and to be holding his child in his arms, however much he would be covered in tears and snot by the time he finally gathered the strength to push himself up.

“I thought you were,” you croaked out, and he rubbed his thumb across your temple. You reached up, grasping his hand, and he narrowed his eyes, blinking at the sight of blood coating your own.

“Is th-that yours?” he asked, the words feeling funny on his tongue as he stumbled over them. You sniffed and glanced to where he had turned your hand over in his.

“No,” you said, “it’s yours.” At that open revelation and reminder, you lifted your eyes, haphazardly wiping your hair from your face and blinking against the tears that still didn’t seem to be stopping. “It’s from your head. Does it hurt?”

Geralt’s face contorted into one of pain yet again as he reached his hand to his head, bringing it back and intaking a sharp breath once he saw the blood. “Damn,” he grumbled. “Yes, it hurts. Like hell.”

You unconsciously bit at the inside of your cheeks and watched him as he lowered his arm and shut his eyes. Your heart continued to pound and every so often your ragged breaths were interrupted by a hiccup. “I’m sorry,” you muttered after a short while.

He blearily opened his eyes to look at you. “Why?”

“I called your name,” you told him, “and you turned around.”

He nodded faintly in remembrance. “Why?” he repeated.

“I don’t know.” You swallowed thickly, tears fogging your vision again. “I was stupid. I just… got so scared, and I didn’t—I didn’t want you to… to…”

At your rising distress, he pulled you down to his chest again, ensuring your ear was conveniently placed over the left side of his chest. His heart was slow—perhaps a little faster than normal yet still slow all the same—but in the silence of the forest he knew you would be able to hear it and let it soothe you.

It worked, and the two of you stayed there for a while. Geralt fixed his attention on his own breathing, trying to match yours as he felt your pulse through his hands. He wondered briefly how far the nearest village was and if he could risk asking for medical help. Perhaps he could reach Triss in Novigrad, and both he and you would have a safe place to recuperate.

His muddled mind was interrupted when he turned his head and noticed the kikimora for the first time, lying in a rotten clump on the ground a couple feet from him. He swallowed the knot in his throat and shut his eyes, remembering all too clearly what had happened and, more importantly, how close it had been to getting you. Unconsciously, his hands tightened around you, and he slowly breathed out, calming himself before he let his emotions reign over him. You didn’t need to see that.

“It’s alright,” he said softly, more to himself, but it assured your all the same.

“Next time, I want to fight with you. I don’t want to watch. I’ve been trained for these moments.”

“We’ll talk about it later.”

“I thought you were going to leave me.”

“Leave you?” He shook his head. “No, no, never…”

He shut his eyes. He knew that the day he left you would be the day the stars burned out and the world became shrouded in darkness. To leave you would be to leave his heart, and that was the one thing that, no matter how battered and bruised, he would hold onto and keep safe with every fibre of his being.

It was his duty, after all.

As your father.

Witcher Masterpost

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 4 years ago

Text

The Magic Reveal fic we deserve, in which Merlin gets as angry as he deserves to get:

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Don’t get me wrong I LOVE a magic reveal with a Merlin who feels bad about lying. I love a reveal with Arthur being furious and Merlin crying but then they talk it out and all is well. I think it's pretty in-character for Merlin to want to see Arthur come to his own conclusions about magic, without being influenced by Merlin’s opinions

BUT I also kinda wanna see Merlin get angry? Like, why should he feel bad about hiding himself in a kingdom where "himself" gets him nothing but a pyre?? Yeah, he and Arthur are close, but unless you've lived with a secret like that (one that will get you shunned, hated, or even killed) then, and I CAN'T STRESS THIS ENOUGH, it doesn't matter How Close you are with someone, how certain you are that they would never hurt you, or care either way, it will almost ALWAYS be scary to tell them. So like. Let Merlin get angry:

I'd say Arthur has been king for maybe a year at this point. He's still a new monarch, still a lot on his plate, BUT also still plenty of time for him to have repealed the ban on magic, or at least started working on it.

But he hasn't.

Granted he hasn't executed anyone in a while (banishments and prison time are the norm, executions are only used nowadays for high treason). BUT the law still remains, it's still technically punishable by death, to be a sorcerer.

Arthur and Merlin have little hunting trips, when Arthur is getting too stressed and losing too much sleep, when he trains the knights too hard and snaps at even Gaius, Merlin (or sometimes even Leon, if they're both being grumpy arseholes) insists that they leave the city for a day or more, to go hunting.

The council have been told it's so the King can keep up with his fitness, can keep familiar with his lands, and keep his skills sharp (he only has enough time to train with the knights a couple times a week nowadays, a far cry from the several hours he used to do every morning without fail), and that keeps them satisfied.

The Gang (the Knights, Gwen, Gaius, and Morgana (she's good in this because that's what I want let me have this)) know the truth, that sometimes the two of them just need a few days to goof off and be themselves, to finally get some time to relax. They'll grab a couple hares and maybe a stag on the way back if they can, so they can at least pretend that's what they've been doing the whole time.

These trips can last anywhere between a day, to two weeks, and Arthur leaves the same set of instructions with the council and the knights every time:

"The safety of Camelot’s people is your highest priority. I leave Sir Leon in charge of everything to do with the knights, patrol, and should any form of conflict arise. If there is an emergency, you are to consult the Inner Council (I don’t know if that's a thing but let's say it is; its The Gang), and send a squire on horseback to fetch me immediately. There's one boy in the troupe who always manages to track me the down the quickest, so make sure he's the one sent, Sir Leon knows who I speak of."

(He's improved over the years, but Arthur is still very... cagey, when it comes to compliments, and his trust. Leon will never mention it, but the fact that Arthur leaves the safety of the kingdom to him, without hesitation or worry, makes him feel greatly honoured. That is the highest form of trust Arthur is capable of giving.)

ANYWAY I feel like most of this has just been backstory so let's get into it:

Normally it's Merlin or Leon who demand that the trip needs to happen.

This time

It's Arthur.

Arthur has tried to ignore it (he's trying to get better but he's not great with emotions and stuff, the big dummy) but Merlin has been in a sour mood for weeks now. He's been quiet and withdrawn, snappy, and has been avoiding Arthur whenever possible.

At first it was easy to ignore, when it started a few months ago it was barely noticeable to anyone who didn't know the two of them Very Well, but in the last few weeks it's become a problem.

Arthur reckons a trip might do them some good. Merlin can relax, and will either get over whatever is bothering him, or be comfortable enough to talk to Arthur about it.

So they head out. Merlin doesn't seem too happy about the trip but he doesn’t complain.

(Odd in itself, if Merlin is unhappy about something he usually makes it known.)

The first couple of days are... odd, to say the least. It seems that every time Arthur notices Merlin relax, he quickly tightens up again. One short, joking conversation is followed by a few more hours of painful, awkward silence.

Arthur comes to the daunting realisation, that if he wants to help is friend (and the love of his life but like... baby blondie has hardly reached that conclusion himself, he might need a bit more time on that) is to confront it head on.

So they're settling down in the evening. The fire is roaring, the horses have been fed and watered, dinner has been eaten, and the two of them are sat at opposite ends of the fire (Very Odd, they're usually glued at the hip, especially when it's just the two of them).

Arthur looks at his friend properly for the first times in a while and he Does Not Like what he sees.

Merlin is visibly exhausted, big bags under his eyes, and his skin paler than normal, scowling ever so slightly into the fire. Shoulders tense, and hands gripping each other until the skin on his knuckles is white. And despite all that, Arthur thinks that Merlin looks more sad, than angry.

Maybe Merlin notices Arthur's staring, they hold eye contact for a little while before Merlin becomes sort of... resigned?? To the fact that he's gonna have to have this conversation whether he wants it or not? He goes to say something but before he can, Arthur interrupts him:

"So Merlin. How do you think I'm doing so far?"

(Which is a stupid thing to say, really. But Arthur is, as we've already established, extremely emotionally constipated, and he figures that finding out what's wrong with Merlin indirectly, and then subtly fixing it behind his back, is a far better idea than asking him to his face.)

Merlin clenches his jaw and looks away it this, his reply and his body language clearly sending different messages:

"You know what I think. You're going to be a great king."

Arthur thinks : "(Going to be? I've been king for a year, there's been no war and far fewer attempts on my life than when I was a prince. There's been a good harvest, all diplomatic meetings have gone well, and more peace treaties, and trade agreements, have been signed in the last twelve months, than in the ten years before it. I know I can still do better but... does Merlin not think I'm good?")

Arthur says : "Going to be? I think I'm a pretty great King already if I do say so myself."

"Then why ask? Besides. There are a few things you haven't done."

Merlin's tone is biting, even though he tries to force it out casually. Arthur notices. ”There are a few things you haven't done”... that means something specific.

"Hmm. I suppose. What things did you have in mind then, Merlin?"

Arthur also tries to sound casual, but the question comes out very pointed

Merlin desperately doesn't want to say it out loud, in fear of revealing too much of himself, so he goes with the vague answer of:

"Promises were made. I guess I just figured you weren't the type to break them, that's all. I'm sure you'll get there in time."

Merlin sounds sort of hopeful there. But the sort of hope that he's been living with for years, the sort of hope that has a layer of sadness and resignation laying over the the top like a tablecloth.

Arthur notices:

"Promises?" He doesn’t want to talk too much or too loudly, in fear that Merlin realises that he's speaking openly and clams up again.

Arthur has realised, over the last year or two, that despite their closeness, despite the endless conversations they seem to have, he doesn't really know all that much about Merlin. He knows he doesn’t spend as much time picking herbs, or in the tavern, as he and Gaius would claim. He doesn't know his favourite colour, or season, or holiday. He doesn't know when abouts his birthday is, or what he likes eating. He doesn't know much about his childhood, he's never mentioned his father.

(Despite all this, he's still in love with the idiot, but again, a revelation for another time.)

Merlin responds "To the druids. You promised they would be welcomed, that magic would return. I know your opinions on magic-"

(The manservant visibly shuffles at this, uncomfortable.)

"-but I figured a promise is a promise. Keeping your word had always seemed so important to you. Before."

Arthur notices the past tense. Like Merlin doesn’t believe that Arthur holds importance to his word anymore:

"I'm not my father Merlin. There have been no executions just for the sake of it since I took the crown."

Merlin’s reply comes quickly, in a harsh tone:

"Yes I know that. But your fathers law still remains. It's technically still punishable by execution just to exist as a sorcerer in your kingdom."

(Arthur notices the thinly veiled disgust in Merlin's voice when he mentions Uther. Arthur knew that Merlin disliked the previous king, but he didn’t think he hated him that much.)

Merlin is getting more and more visibly frustrated at this point. Both at Arthur, and the topic of conversation, but also at himself, for letting himself become so worked up over something he'd sworn to keep Arthur away from.

"You really didn't like my Father did you Merlin?" He says it with a chuckle, trying to keep the conversation light and casual.

(This is NOT a conversation that should be light and casual, his friend is in pain, and revealing more of himself than he ever had before, this should be serious. But Arthur isn't quite sure how to do that, so inappropriately light and casual is what he goes for.)

Merlin responds with a quiet, but forceful:

"I hated him. I still do. He's your father, I know that you're not him, and I know you can't help your heritage. But I'll never forgive Uther for what he did. And I'm not angry that he's...gone."

Arthur's very much taken aback at that. He knows everyone has... strong opinions on Uther, but they've never voiced it in front of him.

"Why?? I mean I know he put you in the stocks a couple of times, but so have I to be fair. Why do you hate him so much?"

(This is the point Merlin gets angry. Or angrier. This is when he stops trying to hide it, stops trying to hold it in. Arthur hadn't gotten angry at Merlin for talking about Uther in such a way, he was just curious. Merlin had been planning on telling him the truth at some point anyway, so he might as well do it now, with no one else around, and Arthur in a goodish mood.)

Merlin jumps up, clenching his fists and staring Arthur in the eye for the first time since the start of the conversation, breathing deeply.

Arthur is taken even further aback at Merlin's sudden unwillingness to hide his true reaction to the topic at hand, but he doesn't say anything, and just waits for Merlin’s response

"Why?? Why do I hate him? Maybe because he was blinded fear and selfish hatred."

Merlin stops and looks away, but doesn't sit down, still tense.

I imagine he's waiting for Arthur to say something, but he doesn’t, opting to wait for Merlin to carry on himself, unwilling to remind Merlin exactly who he was talking to, and about what.

After a few moments of silence, Merlin continues, getting angrier with each word as he paces:

"Your father, the Great King Uther, murdered thousands of people. He committed genocide, because he insisted on blaming other people for his own mistakes. He didn't pay attention to the fine print, and killed his own wife and in return, he executes THOUSANDS of MY people. Just for daring to exist. He was so full of hatred, but he, of course, was infallible so it MUST have been someone else's fault. He was incapable of admitting his own mistakes and the injustice that went unpunished is indescribable, he was a tyrant, and a murderer, and I'll never forgive him."

(Arthur knows the truth about what happened to his Ma in this story, I don’t know how, he just does. And it's a topic of conversation he avoids like the plague.)

At the end of his little outburst, Merlin stills. He is shaking as he glares at the floor, and is more furious than Arthur has ever seen him before.

The King notices the little slip up.

"Your people?" He says, so quietly it's a wonder Merlin hears it.

Merlin freezes at this, at the realisation that there's no real way he can play this off. He was planning on telling him at some point anyway. They're miles away from the city in the middle of a large, barely tamed forest. If he needs to run for his life, he could get away easily enough.

"Yes Arthur. My people. You really should've let me speak first."

Arthur is reminded of the fact that Merlin had opened his mouth to say something, before he'd interrupted him at the beginning of the conversation. It felt like it was hours ago now, but it was really only a few minutes.

The King isn’t nearly as shocked as he thinks he should be. He knew there was something odd and secretive about Merlin, and he'd considered that he might have magic in the early days, but that hadn't been a genuine consideration for years.

He wants to be angry, and selfish, and furious at Merlin for lying to him all this time. But after hearing Merlin’s little speech, does he really have any right to?

Yes, Arthur hadn't executed any sorcerers, but he also hadn't changed the law. He hadn't stood up to his father and he certainly hadn't tried to stop the executions before he was King himself. Can he really blame Merlin? For being scared? For being angry?

"You're a sorcerer." It's not a question. It's a statement. In his mind he knows the truth, but it needs to be confirmed, out loud, by Merlin himself, before they can move the conversation on.

"Yes."

And that's all he says. Arthur waits. And when he's tired of waiting, when he realises that Merlin isn't just gonna carry on talking this time, he speaks up:

"And?"

"And what, Arthur? What do you want me to say? That I'm sorry I lied? Yes, I feel bad for lying to you, but I'll never apologise for protecting myself in a kingdom that would see me burn. And I would do it again in a heartbeat"

Arthur nods. He's tense, but he notices that he isn't scared and he wonders why, after all, as far as he was aware magic had only (almost only) caused him pain and fear.

(In the back of his mind he knows why he's not scared. Merlin doesn't have an evil bone in his body, and he's met the druids, he knows that some magic users are peaceful.)

He looks up at Merlin to see him staring at him, a sort of challenging look on his face, like he was daring Arthur to prove him right. Daring him to be selfish, and angry, and just like his father.

But when Arthur looks deeper. Really Looks at Merlin. He sees the fear, Arthur has no doubt in his mind that Merlin could escape, or even fight him off, now, if he needed to. But Merlin is scared.

If that wasn't enough to break Arthur's heart, the quick glance that Merlin throws to the space a few feet from Arthur's side, is.

Arthur looks over slowly, eyebrows furrowed, to see what Merlin glanced at so fearfully. His heart shatters when he realises what it is. Arthurs sword, sat underneath his bag, just out of his reach. Merlin thinks Arthur is going to kill him. Merlin is scared. Of Arthur.

Arthur looks back at Merlin, disbelief and gut wrenching sadness on his face. He resists the urge to jump up (knowing it would just panic Merlin) as he speaks, trying to keep his tone calming, but it comes out rushed and desperate anyway:

"I'm not going to hurt you Merlin, I swear. I'm...sorry, if my actions and words have led you to believe that I would EVER see any harm come to you."

It's over the last minute, the anger and fear from Merlin, that forces Arthur to realise the legacy he's dealing with. That Uther had done so much damage, had struck so much fear into Merlin, that it didn't matter how close they were. Any subtle, deliberate ignorance of the law wasn’t enough. Any small compliments, or defence of Merlin, wasn't enough.

As long as the law remained, as long as Arthur left his fathers legacy intact, with not even a small attempt to dismantle it, Merlin would be scared of him.

Merlin relaxes only slightly at Arthur's words, gulps, and glances once more at the sword before sitting down again. He’s still tense as he stares into the fire once more.

"All these years you've been putting your life at risk, to stay at my side. You could've quit at any time. You could've stayed in the relative safety of Ealdor, but you didn't. Why? I want to know everything Merlin. You... you mean a great deal to me, and it pains me to see you in fear. And I know it's no one’s fault but my own, and I want to fix it. So the whole story, from the beginning, I want to know."

It's Merlin’s turn to be taken aback now. In his mind, everything he's said and done in the last few minutes should be making Arthur angry. The disrespect of Uther, the tone of voice he had taken, the shouting. All of that even before the admittance of his greatest secret. But still Arthur wasn't angry, he was confused, and maybe hadn't quite processed it yet, but mostly he was just sad, sad that Merlin had to be angry on his own. Sad that Merlin had to be fearful on his own.

So he does. He starts at the beginning. His mother sending him to Camelot so Gaius could train him. Saving Arthurs life that first banquet. Saving his life again a few days later. And again. And again. And again

He talks about all the small insignificant magicks he did: cheating at dice games and keeping Arthur's bath water warm and making sure the fire stays lit through the night and helping the knights sleep when they're out and about.

He talks about all the big magicks he did: killing Nimueh and being the last Dragon-Lord and Balinor being his father, and all the great battles he had won and all the times he'd saved Arthur when Arthur hadn't even realised he'd been in danger.

He talks about everything in between. About every lucky fallen branch and every lucky rockslide and every lucky solution that wouldn't have worked without Merlin... nudging it in the right direction.

He talks and talks and talks until his throat is sore. And Arthur stays silent, unwilling to interrupt, listening intently and saving any questions and queries until the end.

After an hour or so, Merlin hesitates, but Arthur can tell that there's something else. Something he's not saying. Something that in Merlin's mind, is the scariest truth of all. So he stays silent, and waits for Merlin to continue:

"The old man that you think killed your father. Dragoon, the sorcerer who kept popping up but was never in the same room as me? That was me, in disguise."

He looks nervous at this and looks up at Arthur. Before, he'd been explaining everything with a blank but resolute look on his face, still staring into the fire (that hadn't been fed in well over an hour, but was still going strong).

Arthur just looks surprised, he'd never considered that Dragoon had been anyone but himself.

"I tried Arthur. I may have hated your father but I tried to save him. But the pendant around his neck stopped it from working and healing magic has never been my strong point anyway. I really did try."

Arthur nods at this. He figured there had been no reason for the old sorcerer to kill his father, and after consulting Gaius and realising the truth about the pendant, he didn't blame him. Though he never told anyone, not even Merlin, why would he? His manservant had never even met the guy.

"I know. I'm sorry, it can’t have been easy, thinking I blamed you for his death all these months. I'm sorry Merlin."

Merlin looks surprised but quietly grateful. Over the course of the last hour of explanation he had slowly become more and more relaxed, realising that Arthur really meant it when he said he wasn't going to hurt him, and just wanted the truth.

Merlin was still scared, and a big part of him still believed he'd probably be banished at the least at the end of this conversation. But it still felt good to get it off his chest.

"But you still haven't answered my question. Why? We didn't know each all that well those first few weeks. Months even. We practically hated each other at the beginning. But you stayed anyway. Despite hating me and despite being in constant danger. Why?"

Merlin once again hesitates at this. He tried his best but even after all these years, he's not quite sure how to navigate conversations about destiny, especially his own, and especially how it's tied so intrinsically with Arthur’s.

Instead he says:

"What do you know about Emrys?" He really needs a starting reference for this part of the conversation, and at this point, the best way to get it is to ask directly.

Arthur goes to question why, but Merlin has been nothing but honest and straight forward with him, so he trusts that it’s important, and answers truthfully:

"Not much. A few Druids have mentioned him to me before. Apparently they've been seeing him in prophetic dreams for centuries, the Druids have quite a few "seers" in their ranks. He's meant to be some great sorcerer, whose destiny it is to bring Magic and peace to Albion, with some King or other at his side. I never payed much attention to it, I hardly believe in visions of the future."

Merlin nods at that:

"You've got most of it. Emrys is meant to be the most powerful Warlock to ever walk the earth, past, present, and future. When Uther started culling sorcerers, an astronomical amount of magic was poured back into the earth all at once. The Triple Goddess took that magic and put it all in one place, in one unborn baby, in the hope that said baby would grow into his power, and restore balance and compassion to the world. The Druids call him Emrys but it's just a title, like King, or Sir, not his real name. He, and the Once and Future King, are meant to rule with the support of one another, uniting all of Albion under the King’s rule, and bringing magic back into the land. Emrys and the Forever King, two sides of the same coin, their destinies interwoven."

Merlin goes silent at that, and Arthur thinks he knows where this is going, but he Needs the confirmation:

"What's that got to do with anything?" is quietly muttered.

"You're the Forever King Arthur. And I am Emrys. Though it's weird enough when the druids call me that so just... let's stick with Merlin alright?"

"All those times you said I would be a great King, all those times you had unfailing faith in me, was because of destiny?"

Arthur tries not so sound hurt, but he’s never cared for, or believed, in destiny. Up until now he'd thought Merlin had had faith in him as Arthur, his friend, not as some prophetic Once and Future King that Arthur was afraid he would never be.

"At first, sure. I was angry, that my destiny had been decided for me. That I couldn't just ignore it because if I did then the world would never know peace. I never asked for that responsibility I just wanted... I just wanted to keep my mother safe. I wanted to learn how to be a physician and use my magic to help and entertain and brighten the world. Just a little bit. And suddenly I had this big important role to play. I hated it. But I did it anyway, kept you safe. And then I got to know you as a person and you weren't your father. You Love Camelot, you Love your people, you're a good man who does everything in his power to help those around him, even if they don't deserve it sometimes. And suddenly, having my destiny be to help you to greatness... well, it didn't seem so bad anymore. Maybe it was your destiny to be that Great King from prophecy, because you were already a good man."

Arthur is speechless at that. Tears gather in his eyes but neither of them mention it and he doesn't let them fall. Merlin had been almost as nice as that in the past, but never so fully, and with the weight of the truth behind it, it seemed much more meaningful.

Merlin gives him a sad smile before he continues:

"I'm your servant until the day I die Arthur. I have faith that one day, you'll do the right thing."

Arthur suddenly remember the whole point of this conversation. That Merlin was upset and angry that he hadn't repealed the ban on magic yet, that Merlin was still waiting on him. Waiting on him to do the right thing. Waiting on him to fulfil his destiny.

Maybe they head straight home? Merlin walks into Arthur's chambers the next morning to find him already up and pacing, making a start on the repeal?

Maybe Arthur demands they go to the closest Druid settlement so he can consult them on how he should go about it? Merlin’s knowledge of magic is great and all, but neither of them were alive before the purge, neither know how it would work practically.

All I know, is whenever Merlin first comes across Arthur working on the repeal, determination in his eyes, he cries a little. That everything he sacrificed is finally paying off.

I also know, that the first time Arthur timidly asks Merlin to show him something magical (maybe that's straight after this tiring conversation, or maybe its days later, back in the safety of Arthur's locked chambers) Merlin cries even harder, Arthur is still scared of magic, how could he not be. But he loves and trusts Merlin more than anything in this world, and he wants to learn to not be scared anymore.

THIS IS COMPLETED!!

All 5 parts have been posted:)

If y’all want my thoughts on anything specific, let me know✌

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extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years ago

Text

scrubs - 7.

PAIRING: doctor!sebastian stan x biomedical scientist!reader

WARNINGS: fluff

A/N: have fun everybody xx

< previous chapter

She was stubborn. She’d always been stubborn from the moment he’d first seen her a few years ago and while he knew so many staff over his very long period at the hospital which had seen him do his own residency, he could not forget the first time he saw her. The first thought that popped into his mind was how cute she was in a clearly oversized lab coat as she followed her supervisor around carrying some stock. He’d offered to help her out yet she merely looked him up and down with a sarcastic smile before telling him she didn’t need his help. The exact same sarcastic smile she was wearing right now.

Time had barely weighed on her, after all, it hadn’t been that long ago and while her hair had changed, her defiance had remained. There weren’t a lot of people who defied doctors or even nurses, they had this sort of mystical tsar like dominance inside hospital walls yet not only she defied him, but she also had almost always the upper hand.

- Why would I do that? - she cocked her head to the side, eyebrow raised up as she taunted him.

- Because ... - he stood close to him, way too close for her to feel his breathe on her face. His finger traced the side of her jaw, slowly and with torturous intent before he leaned down to her ear. - You really get keyed up when I’m not inside you, doll.

Y/N’s cheeks heated up but she remained her composure, studying her opononent as if this was a chess match. Her eyes looked up at him, a small smile on her lips before she leaned in to kiss him. He melted into her kiss, pressing her against the wall as it became more intimate and lustful, yet it wasn’t messy. She was merely pressed against that wall, his lips molding with hers as his hands rested on her waist. Her hands rubbed up and down his chest, one of them resting upon the hard on visible from his scrubs. She squeezed his through his scrubs as her kisses leaned down from his lips to his jaw and neck, leaving enough lipstick marks to have people wonder.

- I guess I’m gonna be keyed up ... - she stopped the kiss before slipping from under him, her hand resting on the knob. - Knock yourself off, Dr. Stan.

Sebastian remained speechless as he watched her leave. Oh, oh she was wanting to be chased? He smirked to himself, grabbing his jacket before looking down at his erection. That was going to be a fun lunch break, he thought to himself. He allowed her to remain in his mind through his whole shift yet not on the way it usually remained. He wasn’t annoyed at her, it was something else. Maybe he did have an idea of what to do.

She on the other hand was busy dealing with her ever rushing thoughts about the doctor. She had a bright smile on her face every once in a while every time she thought about what she’d done. Sure, she knew she’d probably deal with the consequences of it the next time they spoke or when HR found out she kissed him in the middle of the reception hall but that was a future problem. She continued with that little smile even as she grabbed her bag, walking down the stairs down to her car, only to find the same man on her mind sat on the boot.

- Dr. Stan, you do realise you have to enter the car to actually drive it, correct?

- You are the most difficult woman I’ve ever met.

- I didn’t realise we were still fighting over the obvious. - she fished her purse for her keys.

- Let’s go on a date. - he jumped off the car. - Hopefully, you’ll end up in my bed as well.

- A date? Doctor Stan, the only thing I want to do is get takeaway from the little Italian restaurant next to my house and watch Netflix.

- Come on, doll. You gave me blue balls the whole day, least thing you can do is have a bite with me.

She poundered over the question for a little bit. Surely she wouldn’t want this going around the hospital or she would lose the little credibility she had in those halls yet, at the same time, she did enjoy her time with him no matter how much he attempted to get on her last nerve. She lowered her shoulder, letting out a sigh before holding up her keys in her fingers.

- You’re driving.

- I can’t drive such a tiny car. - he pointed at her baby blue Fiat 500, the very first car she’d ever bought and the only car she’ll ever have for all she cared.

- They say men with big cars are compensating for something. Got anything to hide, Dr. Stan? - she smirked as she opened her passenger door.

- You would know, wouldn’t you doll? - he caught the keys from her, pushing the driver’s seat back before closing the door. - Damn, this is a tiny car.

- You’re a tiny car.

- Is that all you have? I expected a better come back from you.

- Like you expected me to make you cum earlier?

He smiled to himself as he started the car. Sebastian honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d driven with someone by his side, much less a woman whom he wasn’t related to. Her car had such an aura to it, the aura of who she was outside of work. He’d never stopped to wonder who she was off work, what she liked, what she disliked; however, her playlist gave a quick peak into a bit of her tastes, a mix between musical theatre, sad pop music, c;assic music and Britney Spears. It made her rounded, more than the woman she was at the laboratory, more than the supervisor Y/N he was so used to have petty fights with. Everything in the car just yelled out who she was, from the little vanilla scent dangling off the mirror, the lipgloss on the side, a few books in the backseat and the car itself. He thought his car was so dull compared to hers, always so unlived in.

- Are we going to sit in silence or ... ? - she leaned against the head rest.

- Oh no, doll. I like not talking to you, you normally end up kissing me out of the blue. I could get used to that.

- That happened because you were a dick to me.

- That happened because you were jealous. Admit it, you like me.

She remained silent, looking at him through the corner of her eye with a childish smile. He drove past her favourite Italian, getting her reserved order before deciding to take them to his apartment. Sebastian was sure she wouldn’t want him in her flat, no one had really been there. She was a quiet person outside of her job, no one really knew what she exactly did or what she liked. He wondered what type of person she was outside of work but he could only imagine she had that same spark. That little thing which just made her the person he knew.She was always too big for that little hospital.

- You passed my street.

- I know. We’re going to my place. I know you’re a private person.

- Oh ... - she bite the inside of her lip, looking out the window. - That’s awfully thoughtful of you.

- Everything ok? - he asked but she merely nodded, leaning on her own hand yet the answer didn’t satisfy him. - You can talk to me, you know? I’m not all bad.

- I didn’t know you were a psychologist.

- Do you even have anyone to talk to? - he questioned, more in a joking manner than in a serious manner yet her face dropped. Her eyes darting to look out the window as she forced laughter. - C’mon people talk on dates.

- I have my parents but they’re not in the country. - she answered, pulling at the edge of her cuffs. - It’s only glamorous to work in a hospital if you’re a white male doctor.

- Something happened?

- Not important. - she changed the topic. - Pay attention to the road before you wreck my car.

Sebastian wanted to ask her, he really did, yet he doubtted she would open up to him. Maybe for good reason, after all, their relationship had been, somewhat, strictly professional for years. Nevertheless, it still tugged at the back of his mind even as he parked. Sebastian existed the car, carrying whatever it was she had ordered before opening the door for her.

Maybe it was the fact she had been extremely drunk the last time or that she was much more focused on getting him to fuck her but the view from his penthouse flat was something breath taking. She took small steps towards the balcony, holding out the rail as she looked up the city from the top. Everything looked so small, like her own personal sky full of stars. She could just look at it for hours and forget everything.

- Do you wanna eat out the packaging or do you want me to plate it? - he spoke to her from the kitchen. - Y/N?

- Whatever’s better for you. - she looked out her shoulder before returning to look at the city. Sebastian dropped the plates onto the marble countertops, abandoning his task to go and join her. She looked at him from the corner of her eye, as if questioning what he was doing by her side.

��- What’s bothering you?

- Nothing’s bothering me.

- You haven’t bullied me yet. You’re either really trying to get into my pants which is not hard at all, really just need to ask or you’re upset. Either way, I wanna help.

- You wouldn’t understand. - she leaned her arms on the railing.

- I don’t need to understand, I just wanna be there for you.

- So you wanna be my therapist? - she dryly chuckled. - I’ve just been hating my job.

- Everyone hates their job.

- I was the first in the family to go to university, the smart kid. I always did my best, gave up on a regular growing up because I needed to be the best to merely get the opportunities other people had. I worked hard, graduated top of my class and when I got this job I was so happy. - she shakily sighed. - But now I just hate it. I do everything I can, I do the best and beyond, edit company SOPs and training forms and I’m still treated like scum. I just thought that with a degree I would do what I like but instead I’m stuck in that job, unable to do what I like because it doesn’t pay the bills. I interview all the time and it’s always a no. I’m just unhappy, alone and lonely.

- You’re not alone. You have that friend ... what’s her name?

- Miriam? Try being friends with someone who’s recently engaged.

- I’m sorry. - he scratched the back of his neck. - I didn’t know you felt that way, Y/N. That’s awful.

- Thanks, Dr. Stan. I appreciate it. - she saluted him sarcastically.

- You need to let people in.

- I’ve already let you in.

- Not like that. - he chuckled. - You’re always so uptight. Don’t get me wrong, I love it but other people don’t.

- I don’t really care if people like me. I’m used to it.

- Thank god I like you then. - he kissed her shoulder. - And not just when you’re naked and under me. I like talking to you, baby doll. You should quit that job.

- And you’d pay for my tiny flat?

- No. You’d move here and walk around naked with your glasses talking to me about how dumb I am about microbiology.

- Is that what turns you on?

- You’ll be ok. I promise you. - he pulled her close to him. - Besides, if anyone ever treats you like scum, you let me know and I will make their life very hard. I can be a nuissance.

- I know. - she leaned her head against his shoulder. - It’s a date now.

taglist: @rebekahdawkins

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan au #doctor!sebastian stan

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heliads · 4 years ago

Text

Breaking Promises

When Julie has to suddenly drop out of a Julie and the Phantoms performance, the role of lead singer falls to her best friend Y/N, as she’s the only other person who can make the boys visible to the world. When Y/N seems betrayed by this, it falls to Luke to figure out why the girl he’s been crushing on seems so hurt.

masterlist

Luke is bent over his guitar, fingers mindlessly strumming the strings. He’s supposed to be tuning the instrument, he knows that, but every time he tries to set himself up for some small task he can’t help but start trying to figure out another song. It’s like he can find music in everything, and sometimes, the call to come up with another few chord variations is too hard to ignore. Especially now, when he should have finished tuning his guitar ten minutes ago.

Well, it’s not like he has a whole lot to do anyway. The different members of Julie and the Phantoms (minus Julie herself) are strewn about the studio. Reggie is lying on a couch, staring up at the ceiling. Alex, for some reason, is trying to figure out if he can walk all the way around the room without his feet touching the floor once. His gaze is laser-sharp as he focuses, arms held out for balance as he carefully steps from ottoman to couch cushion.

Luke frowns over at him, attention finally broken from the guitar. “You know, walking on the rug does still count as having your feet touch the ground.” Alex holds up a warning finger. “Actually, the rules are that you can’t touch the floor itself. The rug is not the ground, so I’m fine.” Another voice rings out from across the room. “That’s a lie and you know it. Rugs have never been safe.” Alex folds his arms over his chest. “I’ve been playing The Floor is Lava for decades longer than you, Y/N, so I think I’d know.”

Y/N, however, is undaunted by this. “You can’t pull the age thing on me if you’re wrong. The lava would soak through any rug. It’s an obvious fact.” Alex makes a face at her. “I’m still right about this. Luke, back me up.” Luke shakes his head, unable to hide a grin. “Sorry, Alex. Y/N’s right. Rugs are totally out of bounds.” Alex shoots him a sour look. “Somehow I’m not surprised that you’d pick her side.” Luke’s mouth falls open as Reggie bursts out in laughter. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Y/N’s smiling now as well. “It means that he’s still jealous that we’re right. Pay it no attention.” She turns back towards the notebook in her hands, leaving Alex with the opportunity to look meaningfully between her and Luke. Luke shoots him a glare, which just makes Alex’s grin even broader. Sometimes, Luke wishes he wasn’t in a band with such idiots.

Luke’s irritation begins to fade away when he looks back at Y/N. Her hand is strewn across her lap as she studies her scrawled chemistry notes, fingers tapping out a rhythm on the go. It’s strange- Y/N seems like the perfect person for music. She always knows the beat to a song, and she seems to walk, talk, and breathe melodies just like Luke. Even now, when she’s focusing on her homework, she’s still coming up with drum beats on the fly. It’s astonishing.

Yet every time Luke asks Y/N about music, she always changes the subject. It’s never interested her, she claims, or she has always left that to Julie and Flynn, her two best friends. Those excuses don’t make sense, though- Luke’s been to Y/N’s house before and she’s got piles of sheet music stacked up in the corners, and dusty instrument cases hidden in the attic. Y/N has definitely had a history in music, Luke just can’t figure out why she’s hiding it.

Music isn’t the only mystery lingering around Y/N L/N. She isn’t a ghost, yet she can still see Luke, Alex, and Reggie as if they were all lifers. Luke remembers when they first met- Y/N had been Julie’s best friend, and so she had been inevitably dragged over to the studio to hear the boys perform and prove that Julie wasn’t crazy, just like what happened to Flynn. Unlike Flynn, however, Y/N’s eyes had caught on the boys from the second she walked through the door, even before they had started playing music.

She had greeted them with no problem, and then her easygoing smile had started to fade when she saw the looks of utter confusion on Luke and his friends. A wave of troubled realization crested over her eyes when Julie explained that they were ghosts, as if she knew exactly why she could suddenly see them. Julie had been confused as well, and then she had turned to Y/N with a look of thunderstruck understanding.

“You can see them because of-” Her voice had cut off and Y/N had nodded quietly. “Yes.” The girls hadn’t said anything more, but Luke can still see the silent sadness that wrapped around both Y/N and Julie before they hurriedly changed conversations. They were clearly hiding something, but Luke doesn’t know what it could possibly be. They haven’t brought it up again, and they seem keen on hiding any possible reasons as to why Y/N has no problems seeing ghosts.

After a couple of minutes, Julie bursts through the door of the studio, out of breath from running to them. She stands in the doorway for a second, looking distinctly panicked. “You guys remember the gig we have planned in a couple of days?” Luke nods, along with the rest of his band. How could he not? It’s a fairly big show, at a premier jazz club. It’s no Orpheum, but it’ll give them some excellent street cred that the band could use to get even bigger.

Julie closes the studio doors behind her, and walks over to the assembled band. “We have a problem.” Y/N’s forehead creases, and she starts to rise out of her chair. “Here, I’ll let you guys talk this over in private.” Yet Julie shakes her head, gesturing for Y/N to sit back down. “Actually, I’m afraid you have to be here for this.” Y/N sits back down, looking troubled. Luke can’t blame her- Julie’s gaze keeps flickering over to her friend with a distinctly guilty expression.

Julie steeples her fingers in front of her. “Something came up with my family and I can’t make it to the show. I know the performance is a big deal, but I can’t miss this thing with my family. The only problem is that the jazz club has a strict policy on band cancellations, and we’ve already missed the window for backing out. We have to perform, but there’s no way I can make it in time.” Luke’s gaze falls. How are they supposed to play if they don’t have Julie? Without her, nobody will be able to see them.

Julie squares her shoulders, as if readying herself for a hardship. “We have to have someone performing with the boys so they can be seen and the club won’t think we’re backing out on them. I’m sorry, Y/N, but it has to be you.” Instantly, Y/N’s gaze drops. “What are you talking about?” Julie holds up her hands as if to defend herself from an attack. “I know how it sounds, but hear me out. You have an incredible voice, and you already know the boys better than anybody else.”

Luke looks over at Y/N, and is surprised to see that she looks distinctly unhappy. Angry, even. Reggie, on the other hand, does not seem to have picked this up. He beams over at her. “Y/N, I didn’t know you could sing! This is going to be so good!” Y/N glares over at Julie. “Judging by the fact that the boys don’t know about this, I’m assuming that this was all your idea. You want me to sing in a band in front of a large audience? Why not ask Flynn, or even Carrie? She would be better for this.”

Julie winces. “I know how you feel, but it’s our only option. The boys have to perform with someone who can see them so they can be visible to the audience. It has to be you.” If looks could kill, Julie would be as dead as Luke. Y/N’s voice is slow and cold. “You know what this means to me. You know exactly what this means to me, and you’re still asking me to do this. I can’t believe you.”

Julie starts to speak again, but Y/N holds up a hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll do it. After all, the future of this band is far more important than any of your friends, isn’t it? I know the songs, I’ll be ready. That’s what you really care about.” Y/N stands up, looking down at Julie with an expression of utter loathing. “When you didn’t want to make music because of your mom, I was there. I understood. But the rules only apply to you, don’t they? I will never forgive you for this.” With that, she walks swiftly out of the study, muttering something about needing to be alone.

Luke looks from the slamming door to Julie. “What was that about?” Julie looks sick to her stomach. “I never should have asked her to do this. She’s right, it was a bad idea.” Alex shakes his head, confused. “I don’t understand. What’s wrong with Y/N having to perform?” Julie just sighs. “It’s personal. If she doesn’t tell you, I don’t think I should either. I’ve already upset her too much.”

Luke gets up slowly. “I’m going to go talk to her.” Before Julie can say a word to stop him, Luke is already poofing out of the studio. He can see Y/N’s figure disappearing around one corner, then two. He follows her slowly, and feels a dull surprise creep over him when he realizes that she is heading towards the cemetery. What could possibly be waiting for her there?

Something in the back of Luke’s head is telling him that this is too personal, and he’s about to witness a scene that was not meant for his own eyes to see. Something else tells him that Luke needs to see this to understand Y/N, and to learn how to fix whatever problem has just split her friendship with Julie down the middle. So, Luke continues to shadow Y/N’s footsteps, always just behind a tree or out of sight when she looks back. He has a feeling that if he is sighted or makes a sound, Y/N will back down from whatever she is about to do.

Eventually Y/N stops moving, and kneels beside a gravestone. It seems fairly recent, not chipped away and eroded like the others. Luke peers closer at the stone and realizes that it’s inscribed with a girl’s name, and the last name is L/N. Also, the death date occurred about a year ago. All of a sudden, Luke realizes who Y/N is visiting. Could this be her sister, a sister that died? Is that why she’s so upset?

Luke’s thoughts stop churning for a second when he realizes that Y/N is speaking quietly to the stone. “Hi. It’s me again. I just had to come here because-” Her voice drops off and she takes a second to collect herself before she begins speaking once more. “I need to apologize. You know that band I’ve talked about before? The one that’s made up of my friends? Well, they have this performance coming up in a few days, and they need me to sing with them because they’re ghosts and I’m one of the only people who can see them. I know how it sounds and everything, but I have no choice-”

Y/N’s eyes widen and she stops speaking. There, standing a few inches in front of her, is a girl. She looks only a couple of years older than Y/N, and even without the inscription on the headstone Luke can tell that this is Y/N’s sister. He can see it in her eyes, the shape of her face. However, unlike Y/N, this girl has a distinctive scowl that never seems to leave her expression, not even for a second. Y/N seems startled at the sight of her sister. “You’re here? I thought-”

Y/N’s sister cuts her off. “What, you thought I wouldn’t be here and so you’d feel okay with pretending everything is fine? We had a promise, don’t you remember? If I have to die and never play music again, you have to uphold the bargain. That’s how it works.” The girl starts walking forward, and Y/N scrambles backwards out of her way. “It wasn’t my choice- I didn’t want to- I have to be there! I tried to argue but there’s no way out of it.” The girl clicks her tongue in disappointment. “I hoped that you would try a little harder. Aren’t you supposed to be keeping my memory? Well, I can think of another way to keep the promise.”

Luke’s head snaps up as he realizes what the girl is about to do. Just before the sister’s arm reaches Y/N, he has poofed into existence in between them, stopping the blow just before it lands. Y/N stares at him. “Luke? Where did you come from?” Luke flashes her an apologetic smile. “I was trying to find you so I could figure out why you were so upset. I think I get it now, though.” Y/N’s sister huffs an irritated sigh. “Look at you, a friend to the rescue. This doesn’t concern you. The promise is between us.”

Luke shakes his head. “You don’t get to hurt her. Not like this, not in the promise. I want you to leave her alone. Only come back when you’re ready to apologize or treat her better.” Y/N’s sister scoffs. “And why would I do that?” Luke’s gaze grows steely. “Because I have friends who can make you. Have you ever heard of Caleb Covington? He knows me, and if I needed something I know he’d show up.” Y/N’s sister’s gaze falters. “You’re in touch with Caleb?” Luke nods. “I take it you know him?”

The girl looks terrified. “Any ghost who’s anybody knows about Caleb.” Her gaze cuts over to Y/N. “I’ll stop, I swear it. Sing with them. I don’t care. Just don’t set Caleb on my trail.” Luke squares his shoulders. “I won’t unless I have to.” Y/N’s sister fixes him with one last look, then poofs out again, leaving Luke and Y/N alone. Luke offers Y/N a hand, which she takes. She’s shaking slightly, which twists Luke’s heart like a knife. She glances over at him, confused.

“Wait, why did you bring up Caleb? I thought he hated you guys. You talked about him like he was a friend.” Luke spread his hands. “She doesn’t have to know that. I mean, all I really said is that Caleb knows who I am, and he does.” Y/N laughs incredulously. “You were bluffing that whole time? Even I believed you.” The two of them walk out of the cemetery, and only after they’re out on the sunlit sidewalk does Luke finally turn to Y/N once more.

“Was your sister the reason you didn’t want to perform with us at the club?” Y/N sighs. “Yes. We were closer than anything, and we had a little gig going as a joint act. We sang and wrote music together. We had plans of being this great band, and then she died one night in an accident.” Y/N stifles a broken laugh. “When I saw her again, I thought I was hallucinating. Then she broke my window and I realized she was actually there, albeit in ghost form. She made me promise that I would never perform again, because it wouldn’t be fair to her memory. Some part of me knew it wasn’t right, but I was afraid of her, I guess.”

Luke sees the doubt beginning to creep back onto Y/N’s face, and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “It wasn’t right at all. That promise wasn’t something she could ask of you. That’s not dedication to music, that’s just her controlling her. A real musician would want you to move on and grow. I mean, we all hate Bobby because he stole our songs, not because he kept performing. I mean, I’m proud of him for doing so well, even though he tried to write us out of history. The issue isn’t with you singing, I promise.”

Y/N looks up at him, and Luke feels lost in her gaze. “Thank you for having my back. I know I shouldn’t have blown up at Julie, but I was so upset that she would make me perform that I guess I just lost it.” Luke frowns. “Julie knew about the promise?” Y/N nods. “I dropped out of music class and she wanted to know why. I told her that my sister had died and she didn’t want me to perform anymore, but not about the ghost stuff. Obviously.” A slight smile begins to creep onto her face. “Honestly, I’m excited about performing. I haven’t sung in front of people in a long time.”

Luke returns her smile. “I’m excited to hear you. To be honest, I’ve been hoping to hear you perform for a while.” Y/N’s brow furrows. “You knew I did music?” Luke shrugs. “I knew music was important to you so I took a guess. I know you’ll be amazing.” Y/N laughs. “How do you know that?” Luke leans down to press a kiss to her cheek. “I just have a feeling.”

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson oneshot #jatp #jatp imagines #jatp x reader #jatp oneshot #jatp luke #jatp luke imagines #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke oneshot #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms luke #julie and the phantoms imagines #julie and the phantoms oneshot

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a-smile-hides · 3 years ago

Text

A WARM CUP OF COFFEE - A.H.A.

Pairing: Alex x reader

Warnings: none, just ... not really - that great?

Sum: This was a request (thank you for that!) and I would like to apologize because it took so long and.. Yeah. The request:

"Hi 🥰 do you still take request for Alex Andersen? Something like the OC is alex teacher at university and they fall in love with each other but the age gap is a problem so she broke up with him but BOOM they really love each other!! With some fighting and fluffy 🤤🥲hahah sorry if its bad 🥰 thank you!"

A soft ‘thing’alerted the old man behind the desk, making him look up from today’s newspaper and push his glasses further back on his nose. The small café he owned was somewhat concealed from the busy streets, tucked away in between two large buildings. It created the perfect escape for the chaos of life. Oh, how he was proud to own this little palace. A simple, ‘back to basics’ coffee shop where people could enjoy a good cup of coffee. Where people could talk or just relax, or in your case, find some inspiration to prepare for a new class.

Returning his friendly smile, you easily manoeuvred between the mismatched tables and chairs until you reached the one next to a small window. As usual, a silver sign stood on the table reading ‘reserved’ in a beautiful font. And as usual, you plopped down on the chair that gave you a look out on the street, sliding the sign to the end of the table so that it could be picked up by one of the staff members. Throwing a notebook and different prints out on the table, you breathed in deeply.

It had been a long day already... And it was like... what? – 11 a.m.?

“There you go, honey.”

Without even looking up you already knew who stood next to your side, presenting a large cup of coffee with one of those delicious self-made biscuits.

“Jer, I can’t thank you enough”.

The man laughed, seemingly pleased with himself after seeing the frown on your eyebrows clear up for a second. He waved your gratitude off and returned to his kitchen.

He had grown used to your visits over time. It wasn’t hard to miss you, sitting stressed in the corner of his little café, browsing through pictures and notes trying to decide which was the best one.

It hurt him every time he saw a lost soul enter his little café, in a rush and completely lost to the world around them. In you, he saw one of those lost souls. Busy, busy, busy... Overloading themselves with work.

It seemed as today would bring no exception. And you once again would ignore the beauty and comfort his café hoped to give to its customers. Especially when he saw you fiddling with a large package, no doubt filled to the brim with new photos for a possible lecture, he knew you only came here to work even more. Sighing, the old man turned around, reaching towards the different treats and cakes his little shop offered. He knew you would be there for a while and figured that the need for sweets may come soon. In the background, he could hear the familiar sound of your papers falling onto the ground. Accompanied by some swear words, immediately followed by mumbled apologies. And he could not hold himself back as a laugh passed his lips. It became a routine really...

Still chuckling, he turned around and placed a large piece of cake on a plate, decorating it with an extra piece of dark chocolate. The sound of someone entering his café made him look up momentarily, greeting the young man who just entered with his signature smile. The young man returned his smile warmly, before letting his eyes wander over the place. He had clearly never been in here before. His eyes narrowed once he focused on something in the back of the café, furrowing his eyebrows in worry. Skilfully, he walked between the tables and chairs as if he had decorated the place himself. To a small table next to the big window, where you were still mumbling under your breath about how life seemed to hate your guts. And it made the young man chuckle. Loudly.

Freezing for a second, you immediately collected all the pictures that had fallen off the table, carelessly throwing them back on the table. Refusing to meet the eye of whoever found enjoyment in your clumsiness, you side stepped back to your table. Hoping and praying that they would just go away. But they stayed.

“It’s good to see you’re still as clumsy...”

It was a good thing you were leaning against the table, otherwise you would have been knocked to ground right now.

“Mister Anderssen.” You nodded your head.

The young man pressed his lips together in a tight smile at the greeting, feeling a sting in his heart that he believed to have been long gone by now.

The long silence that followed felt dense and awkward. He was trying to make eye contact, his lips were turned up in a little, comforting smile. He did not know what to say or feel as he looked at how your body seemed to turn away from him. Your arms were wrapped around your middle, your eyes glued to the pictures on the table without truly looking at them. And then, his gaze fell on the smallest amongst them. He could recognize that gloomy setting from anywhere. His heart jumped, he felt overjoyed and the smile on his face grew larger.

“You kept it?” He breathed out, making it sound more like a question.

Slowly, he crouched down, careful not to make you run away. As he took the card from under one of the chairs, brushing some dust of it. Looking up, he waved with the picture he once offered you to use in your classes.

Nodding to himself, he kept his eyes locked with yours as he slowly came up. “You kept it.”

“I did” You spoke out softly.

***

“Fuck”

The curse had left your mouth before you could hold it back, as you watch yet another one of your cards fall on the ground.

It was good that none of your students had the habit of arriving in time for your class. Choosing to rather arrive just in time for the lecture to begin instead of showing some interest and being there before it began. Otherwise, they could enjoy this little comedy show as you desperately tried to stick those cards on a timeline.

You had never thought that one day, you would stand in front of class, as a teacher. Talking about something that had been a passion for so many years. Movies are a piece of art, a way to express and communicate. And now, you had the power to let others see that as well.

And even thought the path of being a teacher had crossed yours rather unexpectedly, it had made you happier than you’ve ever been.

And it had let you to some beautiful and interesting moments.

Looking down at the picture in your hands, a warm feeling overcame you, painting a very small smile on your face. It was a simple photo of a man standing alone in the street. The sky was pitch black; the only light provided by a single streetlight on the far right. The yellow light cast dark shadows on the ground. And on the left, almost completely hidden in the shadows, you could see the silhouette of another man. His back was turned to the man he had left behind under the streetlight. And thus, he missed how the other reached his hand out in a desperate attempt to call him back.

Every year you would collect pictures to show off how a simple setting can bring out different emotions to an audience. This scene would often bring feelings of sadness, grief, loss, misery and heartbreak to your students. Ironically, this scene brought you only a warm feeling. The beauty of the shot together with the memory of how you had come across this movie, cancelled out those unhappy emotions.

Completely lost in the moment, you almost jumped up when two hands sneaked around your hips.

“Morning”

His voice was raspy as he failed to conceal the chuckle that passed his lips.

“Morning, mister Anderssen”

He laughed, rubbing his nose in the crook of your neck. He found it almost amusing how you spoke so formerly to him now when at night...

“Mister?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting your way out of his grip. Without giving one look to the young man behind you, you picked up the card that fell out of your hands. Looking down at it again, you sighed and returned to your desk. The classroom needed to be ready before the students would arrive.

“I thought we made an agreement; you would not visit me this early to avoid suspicion, right?”

Alex smacked his lips, nodding his head slowly. He played with the straps of his backpack as his mind brought him back to that memory. It was around three weeks ago; you were collecting everything to go home after a long day when the young man suddenly sneaked in to share some ‘alone time’. Sadly enough, another student had forgotten her scarf that day and ran back to retrieve it. Even though you tried your hardest to not succumb to his advances, his willpower was way too strong. And the poor girl had almost walked in on you and him kissing. He had pushed his luck too far that time.

Still, if he could, he would not take that moment back. Every second spend with you was worth it.

“It’s nice to see you still like that picture...” He said, pointing to the card in an attempt to effort to change the subject. “After you told me what subjects we would discuss in the future, I immediately thought of that movie and-”

Alex’ voice died once your eyes met his. He was always the first to enter your classroom. In those moments you always could be yourselves. There was no reason to hold back. In that way, these few minutes of privacy would always be filled with love and jokes, stolen kisses and hugs. He couldn’t really recall the precise moment his dream came true, and you returned his affection. The way to earn it had been long and filled with obstacles. The boundaries that needed to be crossed were great. And it felt unlawful, disgusting, wrong... And still, so right.

Now, as he stood only a few feet away from you, it felt like a mile. Your eyes danced across the room, only meeting his for a mere second before quickly darting away again. Your hands brushed some imaginary dust of the picture, while you tried your hardest to breath normally. Little signs of how the nerves started to creep up.

“If you want other recommendations...” He tried, but again... The strength in his voice died before he even finished his sentence. Alex grew concerned as he watched you turn around and hung up the card. The whole thread portraying different scenery throughout film history over the last 50 years shook as you clumsily pined it next to a very bright photo, depicting two children running around at a fair.

Alex frowned when you still did not respond to him. Softly, he moved his hands to rest on your shoulders, trying to turn your body towards him. His head was lowered down a bit, a friendly look on his face as he shakily asked: “What’s on your mind?”. Hoping that whatever bothered you, he could help you solve it.

You didn’t need to see his face to know how his eyebrows were scrunched up with concern. Or how his mouth was slightly twisted as he pondered over who or what could have made you behave so coldly.

But the reason was crystal clear to you.

The adoration you had received from the man in front of you was overwhelming. These past months have been a dream. Almost indescribable. Just as all those sappy quotes on Pinterest say: some things just need to be felt. And this, this felt great.

It had been great.

Felt.

Had.

You bite your lip, feeling nervous all the sudden. Turning around, you tried your best to avoid his blue eyes. They were hypnotizing, demanding for a reason, an explanation.

“Mister Anderssen-” You started again.

“You know, we never did that kind of play, but I am open to anything.” He tried. His attempt to lighten the mood was only met with silence. A silence that felt deafening. And it made his stomach turn.

With his finger and thumb, he slowly lifted your chin up, forcing you to meet his eye. He was a bit taller than you, and he loved that. He used it to his advantage on every occasion he got.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked again.

You sighed, feeling it was better to speak the truth. “This.” You answered, “Us.”

Alex lifted one of his eyebrows, scratching the back of his neck. “Us? What's wrong with us?”

“You’re smart, Alex.” You answered. “Deep down, you know.”

Alex eyes widened. He was speechless, dumbfounded.

“I am a teacher, your teacher to be exact.”

“And you’ve been teaching me amazing things.” He snickered, wiggling his eyebrows.

You snorted, shaking your head. Until you remembered what you wanted to share with him, and your face went blank again. It was almost impossible to not give in, to hold back your laughter when he was around. But you had to.

“Alex.” You said, pushing him lightly away. “The age gap is way too big.”

His hands tightened their grip on your hips as he turned your body more towards him. His eyes narrowed. And although they still sparkled, the hurt he felt could not be hid. The time he could hold back secrets had long passed.

“What made you start doubting us?” He asked.

You sighed, looking down at the ground.

“What if I said... What if the doubt never left? What if it was a thought that always bugged me?”

That made him halter. His muscles stiffened for a second. A millisecond in which he let the guard down and his pain became visible. But just as quick as it fell, the wall was back up again. He stood upright, the hands on your hips now slowly making their way up towards your shoulders. The corner of his lips was pulled up, a fine grin that silently asked you to laugh or say it was just a joke. That it wasn’t the truth.

Alas, it was the truth.

The lingering thought that had been filling your mind with doubts and questions for a while now. Making you question yourself and your choices, but above all, the day on which you gave into his charm.

He was a young, handsome man filled with life and chances. He was almost at the end of the first big chapter in his life, ready to begin a new one, to step into an adventure. After this... Did he want to work somewhere? Move back in with his parents? Maybe he wanted to travel? See the world after being closed off from it after keeping his nose in his books all the time. He could explore, try to discover who he really was. And... Fall in love with someone else. Someone … more of… his age.

How could you hold him back from that?

His thumbs started to stroke small circles of comfort on your neck, while he kept on trying to make eye contact with you. With each passing second, he felt himself grow more uneasy and lost.

“Little one... Love.” Alex winced as he saw you flinch with each nickname that passed his lips. His voice pitched and he sounded in a rush, as he wanted to find a way to ease those doubts. “Y/N, what...?”

The corner of your lip twitched in a weak effort in making a smile appear on your face. It failed horribly, as you felt yourself get overwhelmed by guilt and sorrow. “We have to stop this now, Alex.” You managed to make out. “It’s done.”

In the back of the room, he could hear the slow ticking of the big silvery clock. It was only five minutes until the lecture would begin. Any time now, someone could enter the room and walk in on their teacher standing in a, what they would think, romantic embrace with her own student. It only made you more nervous and desperate to get out of his hold. To just say goodbye. To leave this all behind and start new.

Alex squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head widely. “The age gap is just a number, not even a high one. You want me as much as I want you, right?”

“I do- I- I did. And now, I am ending it.” You said, biting the inside of your cheek to stop the stinging feeling in your eyes. “I am letting you go.” you whispered, finally pushing his arms away.

Alex breathed in deeply, stepping forward as you took a step back. Again, and again, you shoved his hands away. He tried to make contact, to touch your arms, to hold your hands, but every time you slapped his hand away. And his heart broke as you kept on avoiding him. He grew frustrated.

“What do you want, Y/N? Since when are you afraid? So, what if they say something? We- We are the ones in love! They-”

“Alex! It’s done! I don’t want this anymore. I don't want- I-”

At this point, he felt the blood in his veins boiling. His heart clenched. His stomach turned. “So, we-this meant nothing to you?”

“That’s a low blow, Alex” You bit back.

“What do you want, Y/N?!”

“I don’t want this. I don’t want you anymore, Alex! This is done! Over!”

He scoffed, his fists clenched at his sides while his chest went up and down with every heavy breath.

“Over? Why are you acting like this? When have you turned into this scarred shell of-”

“I don’t care if you don’t see the problem. Someday you will. And you will understand I made the right call.”

The clearing of a throat ended the discussion sooner than Alex would have wanted. Another student had entered the classroom. Her eyes were wide open as she stared at her teacher and the class top student. Her mouth was slightly open as she tried to form a sentence, but no sound seemed to pass her lips.

You swallowed, quickly wiping a fallen tear off your cheek, stepping even further away from Alex, whose eyes were still glued to you.

“Good afternoon, miss Tuffin. Please take a seat.”

Alex slightly shook his head from side to side, unable to comprehend the situation.

“So, mister Anderssen. Now that you know your answer, please take a seat.” You said quietly, flinching as your voice cracked a bit. Your eyes did not meet his anymore, even though he was hoping you would look him in the eyes again. He knew deep down you did not mean one word of the things you had said. "Class will begin soon.”

***

The silence that had formed was killing the both of you. No one knew what to say or do. The awkward tension held him back from taking the first step, the fear mixed with the embarrassment from a few moments earlier made it impossible for you to move. It felt strange to be in each other’s presence without having the ability to look each other in the eye for longer than a few seconds. And even stranger to know how different this was only a few months back. You had resorted to dust off the pictures that had fallen onto the ground while Alex let his eyes wander around. He did not know what overcame him as he walked up to you. The little café had never come to his attention before. He blamed the big buildings that flanked the warm place for that. As he stepped in, looking for a place to enjoy a good cup of coffee, he wished he had discovered it a long time ago. The mismatched tables and chairs, the hanging lightbulbs, the old paintings decorating the flower wallpaper… Everything breathed out comfort and safety.

The older looking man had greeted Alex with a warming smile, until both men were distracted by the loud curses of a woman in the far back of the café who had dropped her papers all over the floor. Alex did not know whether to laugh or run away when he saw that you were the poor soul collecting all the different photos of the ground. And before he even knew it himself, he stood in front of you. Trying his best to make a casual conversation, without losing his cool.

He was failing miserably.

He really wished the sudden urge of confidence hadn’t left so suddenly.

Jeremy frowned upon the sight in front of him from his place behind the counter. The large piece of cake he had prepared for you earlier stood abandoned next to him. He had never seen that young man in your presence before. Every day you visited his little café alone. Never were you accompanied by a friend, nor had you ever invited one. He could not help the chuckle that passed his lips as he saw the strange boy fumble his way towards your table. But by the way his steps slowed down with each second and how he now stood before you as if he had committed a crime, the old man could not help but wonder what your relationship had damaged to become so uncomfortable.

“Y/N…” Alex started, sighing as he noticed you close your eyes for a second, turning your body slightly away from him.

“Y/N.” He tried again; his voice sounded a bit stronger, more certain. As if he had found his courage and willpower again. But then it crumpled again, his shoulders dropped as he frantically tried to make eye contact. “I am happy to see you again.”

This made you look up. “Me too.” You nodded. “How are you?”

Alex snorted, looking around the café as he tried to find words. Why had it become difficult to speak to you? “Good?” He nodded, more to convince himself than you, “Yeah, I have been good. Taking pictures, trying to improve my photography-“

This made you laugh, the sound making his heart jump for a second. “As if you needed any more improvement.”

Alex bit his lip, glad that you weren’t paying attention to his red flushing cheeks. He breathed out deeply as he looked down at the different cards. His eyes glided over the different pictures depicting scenes of romance, hope, grief and so on. Without saying anything, he sat down, flipping through them one by one. Some of the pictures made the corners of his lips slowly turn up, while others made his brows furrow.

This gave you the opportunity to finally take a look at him. His hair had gotten longer since the last time you saw him. Back then it was cut short, but now his long locks were held together in a little man bun. His jaw was accented by a subtle beard. It’s crazy how much he changed in a few months time… Yet he still looked as dashing as back then.

“I still think this one is the best.” He smiled, showing you the gloomy picture from earlier.

His words made you snap out of your daze, clearing your throat as you took a seat opposite from him after he arched one eyebrow, pointing to the empty chair.

“That’s a shocker,” you shrugged, “You came to me with that movie.”

Alex nodded, the confident smile on his lips reached his eyes for the first time, making them shine bright. However, that light quickly died. Absent-mindedly, he let his finger wander over the picture, contemplating if he should speak up about the shared past or not.

“I… I knew we would meet again, you know? Well, I hoped”

You looked down at your coffee, once again escaping his eyes while wrapping your hands around the lukewarm beverage. It didn’t offer you much comfort anymore.

“Now that I am older,” He lightly joked, “More mature, more-“

“Alex” You interrupted his train of thoughts. “Don’t- Don’t do that.”

“Maybe now you can give me the real reason as to why you gave up on us so easily.” He continued, his voice was low, almost a whisper but the sneer in it could not be ignored. All of the sudden, it felt as if you were on the artic. The blood in your veins ran cold as he had backed you up in a corner. Alex knew he could have pushed you even further away from him, but simply needed to know. The young man sat there before you with his heart beating loudly in his throat. His jaw was clenched, and his fingers lightly drummed on the table.

You sighed, not daring to look into his eyes. Before you even opened your mouth to answer his burning question, he softly spoke up again. “The truth, please.”

You laughed dryly, now really feeling trapped under his demanding stare and the growing tension between the two of you. “I did not want to.” You confessed, feeling your eyes well up. “I really… I really loved you, you know? The time I shared with you was wonderful, and I want you to know that it wasn’t your fault or anything… I just let myself get carried away by my feeling for you, Alex.”

“And why is that a bad thing?” He asked, not understanding your motive.

You grinned, looking at his confused face. “I was your teacher, Alex. We had this conversation before, I wasn’t-“

His hand immediately flew towards your hand, making you fall quiet. “So what? I never cared. Not then, not now. I am no longer your student, there is no reason anymore to hold back anymore.”

You snorted; he would never change. He would always be this cocky little brat and-

“Wait. What do you mean… ‘no reason to hold back anymore’?”

He grinned, squeezing your hand a bit. “I always hoped we could meet again, so I could tell you should not be afraid of our relationship anymore. Or your feelings. Or… us. Don’t say anything because I know that fear held you back. We can be together, Y/N! Please, just-just leave behind your doubts for once. Don’t give a fuck about other people!” He said, his voice becoming louder with each word, growing with passion. “Put yourself first…” His face sprouted a smile, but it was not one of happiness or relief, no, it was because he felt helpless. He could feel you slipping right through his fingers again as he saw you shaking your head. He saw the doubts written all over your face. The questions rummaging through your mind. Was he being truthful? Was it unethical? Could you just start over again and continue this relationship? Was it worth the risk? “Just, choose with your heart for once. You know my feelings for you, but I am waiting for you.”

His words warmed your heart and made the corners of your lips turn upwards slightly. The worries clouding your minds made it hard to really focus on his words, still… You could no longer deny how he made you feel deep down.

As you licked your lips, the both of you suddenly got shaken out of your little bubble by a friendly voice complimenting the handsome man in front of you.

“My dear boy, you could not have a better timing. She really needs someone to make her laugh and escape that world of hers full of work and deadlines she dares to call a life.” Jeremy laughed, waving off your shocked expression, knowing you were about to contradict him. “You both need each other, children.” He paused, placing down two cups of coffee, accompanied with two large slices of one of his famous cakes. “Listen to an old man’s wise words.” Without any further words, and still ignoring your shocked face and Alex’ gestures that he had not ordered anything yet, he left the table to go back to his counter.

From there, he watched how you both broke into a fit of laughter, figuring it was better to enjoy the food and drinks than let them spoil. As Alex shrugged his shoulders and took a careful first bite of the pie, you took a first sip of your new and cup of coffee, never breaking eye contact with him. And… it felt good.

The old man behind the counter watched proudly as the two of you slowly picked up a conversation, sharing what you had been up to these past months to the finest details. The words suddenly came easily and talking felt comfortable again. Laughs, giggles, and loud exclaims of shock and delight were audible throughout the whole café, often making the other customers look up from their spot in the far back of the café. But you couldn’t be bothered by them. No, you were far off in your bubble. A bubble that was warm and joyful, filled with light and love now that Alex was in it.

And as the hours passed and the second slice of pie had been devoured, Jeremy’s heart filled with joy as he saw how your hand was still in the hands of that handsome boy.

Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed! xxx

#alex hogh andersen imagines #alex hogh andersen imagine #alex andersen imagine #alex andersen imagines #alex hogh andersen x reader #alex x reader #vikings imagines #vikings request #alex andersen request #alex høgh andersen #alex høgh #ivar the boneless #vikings season 6 #i am still alive

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plan-d-to-i · 3 years ago

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1-people forget that in the universe MXTX created it is stated that YZY's situation is not normal, it is a patriarcal society so wives don't keept their names nor do whatever the fuck they want and they certainly don't humiliate their husband without even being told off, she's uniquely horrible and JFM is uniquely spineless. i always think JFM did love and worried about WWX but that last interaction he threw him under the bus to appease JC so his last memory would cement that he did love him

2- bc he didn't have more time to keep trying to make him understand and i always wonder how things with JC could have been fixed, easiest would be having had the balls to get rid off YZY early but if he divorced her (or got her killed lol) would JC have been different? or would he resent him even more for not protecting his mother? idk i feel like JFM was cursed from the moment he accepted to marry her and i can't help feeling bad for him

LOVE THIS. So I agree w like 99.9999% only my feelings over JFM change every five minutes. I never hate him but I vacillate wildly between i feel like he could've done more and ig he was himself a trapped in that situation so it's unfair to hold him fully accountable.

Madam Yu is an undeniably violently abusive woman who has married a kind, non-confrontational man. Most of JFM's flaws are only seen as 'flaws' instead of qualities because they framed as ineffective against someone as rank as her. I wouldn't even say he's spineless, because he does cancel YanLi's engagement for fear that it will make her as unhappy as his own marriage made him & effectively stands against his wife's demand on top of also passing on a very beneficial alliance w Jin Clan. (In fact Jin GuangShan is way more reluctant at the thought of taking this news to Madam Jin.)

Abusive relationships have their own dynamics so it's hard watching from the outside how JFM's resignation to his circumstances and avoidance are ineffective against, someone like YZY who materializes like a storm cloud to rain her venom down on everyone, especially WWX. Because WWX is not only bearing the scars piled on his back from YZY's whippings/'discipline' but he's trapped in a perpetual balancing act between JFM, YZY, jc and to an extent Yanli. He has to make JFM proud/see the value in keeping him around & at least in the beginning of his stay with the Jiangs we know he always tries to eat/take less than he needs, but he can't be so good & talented that jc feels threatened or set Madam Yu off. At the same time Yanli rewards him with soup and affection when he takes the fall for jc his first day there. This definitely establishes a pattern wherein WWX sees his usefulness within the Jiang sect in diverting punishment for the failings of those around him, especially jc, to himself. She also repeatedly asks him to just accept jc’s shifty behavior as a representative of his affection... bc she's a huge fucking enabler, which probably doesn’t bode well for how she’s come to interpret affection.

As for YZY she's the only one who paints herself a victim, when it's clear she's the instigator of the conflicts!!!! She’s literally the bad guy, boss, fly in the ointment etc. There's a lot of gaslighting in her interactions with JFM so I'm confused as to why people think that of everyone she's the reliable narrator or some poor sad victim of an uninterested husband??? She clearly does as she pleases in Lotus Pier, yells at JFM in front of Servants, accuses him of fathering a child with his friend's wife, she whips the head disciple for imagined infractions with a spiritual weapon! and pretty much just chills w her ladies when she isn't busy spewing venom wherever she goes. WITH NO REPRECUSSIONS. If JFM had been a woman and YZY the man I'm sure all her cringe stans would be frothing at the mouth to drag her(yzy) to hell by the balls.

People love to accuse JFM of favoritism towards WWX or showing him more affection. To me it's clear that for JMF, WWX is simply an extension of his father/friend & ultimately a subordinate in the Jiang household. JFM clearly cares about jc, it's not his fault that jc doesn't get it, and it's not his fault that YZY is always poisoning their relationship. JFM for his part is still trying to guide jc towards how he's meant to occupy his future position as Clan leader, quite gently too considering jiang cheng was berating WWX for saving their allies... I’m sure if anything JFM hoped WWX’s morality and sense of right and wrong would rub off a bit on jc & why wouldn't you want someone immensely talented and loyal and devoted to the well being of your son and family around?? JFM did a nice thing getting WWX off the streets but that doesn’t mean he also didn’t think WWX could be a good friend to jc who when WWX is first brought to Lotus Pier has ZERO friends, and was likely to remain with zero friends considering his personality. Only someone like WWX who is forced by circumstances, & his kind nature & gratitude to the Jiangs would be in a position to befriend him. So I think it's laughable to say JFM favors WWS when WWX was the sacrificial lamb friend/pet JFM gifted his son. Not to mention that the only person who says JFM doesn't properly value jc is again YZY. Ofc jc takes to like a duck to water because he's cut from the same cloth as his rancid mother and it's much easier to blame WWX for all his failings and misfortunes than to take a good hard look at himself or ever take responsibility for anything. jc doesn't do self reflection. There isn't any scenario where jc would have been a good person. He's lacking basic human empathy. His view of the world has him as its center. He can only relate to things as they concern and affect him and he doesn't even possess a modicum of honor that might keep such selfish impulses at bay.

To conclude, I totally agree. JFM cursed himself the moment he let himself be coerced by YZY and her Clan into marrying a person whose character and values he knew ran so deeply counter to his and his Clan's own. Sure enough under the control of jiang cheng, the original spirit in which Jiang clan was established is gone. It's a place devoid of warmth that people are scared to visit lest they be confronted w the screams of people being flayed alive.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #jiang family #yu ziyuan #madam yu #jiang yanli #the jiangs suck #WHY DID I MAKE THIS SO LONG FFFFF #I tried to edit it down 138431 times #this was edited 2000 times #I obviously consider YZY to be the shittiest shit to ever be shit on the face of the earth #and I think this is v JFM favorable at least it's meant to be but as always I cast a lot of shade all the way around

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qiqi-media · 3 years ago

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How I feel about Mal Bertha and her character PART 1

This is not a Mal bertha Biography and it is biased in the sense that I don’t like her at all. Read with caution.

Descendants 2 was actually the first movie of the trilogy that I had watched. My little sister was watching it and I happened to be passing by and sat to watch it with her when it caught my eye. 2017 me had a completely different opinion of Mal bertha than today not because I was younger but simply because D3 hadn’t come out yet and I hadn’t watched the first movie or even knew there was books. I can’t stand Mal bertha, not even the D1 version of her and that’s the one even Mal antis love. I didn’t like her in the first movie but it was more of a “I wouldn’t be friends with her.” I didn’t think that she was unforgiveable and that it was impossible to give her a second chance. She made her own bad choices but she expressed genuine regret for them and was only 16. Despite me, loathing Mal’s existence I related to her in sense that it’s scary wanting to change but you don’t know whether or not your actions have caused too much damage.

In D2 watching it as a stand alone I saw a girl wanting something other than the ‘happily ever after’ and deciding she would go for what would make her happy when she went back to isle. I was desperately hoping that after the ‘It’s going down’ scene that she would go back to the isle and not choose to stay somewhere she wanted to leave. But we know how that went and the ending left me bitter and sad not for her, but for Uma. She began to leave a bitter taste in my mouth when she broke up with Ben and came back and just expected him to get back together with her. I’m going to go around every version of her character.

PRE D1

She was a dick. That’s the simplest way I can put it. I don’t like even acknowledging pre d1 Mal because it leaves me with this very negative view of her character that I don’t think was necessary. I feel like this is a big fuck up, wanting to have Mal be her ‘evilest’ before coming to Auradon. I understand the reason why they wanted to show her growth and change throughout the series. But after looking at some real life scenarios with a similar Mal situation it made me look at it differently. Imagine this: someone who severely bullied you and harassed you and everyone around getting to go to a new place and get the best treatment there, then she’s congratulated with becoming queen of that land and not only that she then decides she’s going to be queen of the place she was bullying and harassing people at without ever properly apologizing. This happens in real life and these people get exposed which is why I don’t like it. It would be different if Mal actual grew throughout the series but it was real just her gaining more power and the scenery changing from Pre D1-D3. She also continued to make the same type of ‘mistakes’ with no actual direct consequences all she had to do was cry and they forgave her. She would be okay if it Descendants was a stand alone movie. But knowing the type of life she would get to live after all of this behavior puts me off from reading it. It would also be different if Mal lived a simple life in Auradon (Aka not trying to take control by dating the king and then stepping all over said king) She got more than what she deserved to have. In my opinion she did deserve the chance at all better life just like all the other kids who didn’t commit any crimes to be locked up. But in the eyes of people she victimized she wouldn’t deserve to be Queen become royalty, live in castles and get gifted with limos and bikes.

D1 is the version of Mal everyone generally likes however, like I stated before I didn’t like her even then. At the start we see someone who is clearly trying to please her mother so if her mother wants bad behavior she gives her that. Throughout the main plot she did things of her own accord that she can’t use her mom as an excuse for. There’s a couple different things but a lot of them had to do with Ben and I’m making a whole post on how Ben was treated like shit throughout the franchise so that will be addressed then and not in this post. However for a reference she drugged him with a spelled cookie into falling in love with her for the wand. He wasn’t even willing to eat the cookie at first but she guilt tripped him into eating it. We could brush this off as her doing whatever she needed to do to get to the crown but to me she took advantage of the situation by actually going on dates with him. He was already spelled and willing to listen to whatever she wanted so besides for her own personal interest why would she go on the dates? (Granted a 16 year old wanting to get cute and have a nice date with a nice boy is not a fault or wrong in any way the fault here is all of this was happening when Ben was not in his right state of mind until the spell washed off.) Her taking advantage of Jane’s insecurities was not cool either and I’m interested in what ways she would’ve tried to use Jane if it was easier to get to the wand through her. Since her main crime in my opinion was Ben and since he’ll have his own essay post I’ll focus on Audrey here.

Her disrespect to Audrey

It was unnecessary, she had no reason to have had Audrey’s name in her mouth as much as she did D1. It would make more sense for Mal to like Audrey’s sassy boldness to me not shit talk her every chance she got. At the start they had a small passive aggressive conversation that could’ve just been left at that because technically they burred the hatchet between the two families. It was a “hey I don’t fuck with you, you don’t fuck with me” type of a situation that could’ve grown civil. However, throughout the movie in comparison to Audrey who really just had a problem with Mal’s mother until she spelled ben then it became direct problems with each other. Mal was continuously talking shit about Audrey as if Audrey was the one who fucked with her family. This time her upbringing can be referenced, on the Isle she most likely was allowed to openly hate things and Audrey was most likely raised to at least pretend to be polite. But from the Audrey we’ve seen she clearly doesn’t care about holding her tongue she’s straightforward with how she feels and she didn’t have a problem with Mal she had a problem with her mother. The only time she talked about Mal directly was about the hair spells which she ended up being right about (Mal’s addictive reliance on magic in D2 and Jane at the end of D1). After completely ignoring Audrey’s feelings and literally stole her boyfriend (not even on the the you can’t steal a loyal man type of shit she literally stole him he wasn’t even allowed to consent to it.) She later in Audrey’s Diary multiple times tries to reason this with she never meant to directly hurt Audrey and that she didn’t really want Ben she just wanted the wand etc etc. The evidence doesn’t back this up Mal, you’ve made your disdain for Audrey clear and talked shit about her to Evie right after you spelled Ben the did I mention bs claiming “Chad will see her horrible personally” as if you knew her personally and that Chad didn’t grow up with her. Mal can say she didn’t mean to hurt Audrey but she clearly didn’t mind that she did.

I’m going to make a whole separate on Audrey and how I do think she gets a lot of slack because people can relate to her, but also how her treatment in comparison to Mal’s is unfair.

I did think she deserved a chance to show remorse for her behavior (spoiler: she didnt) Again, I like to look at things from the pov of other characters for things like this. If I was an Auradon kid who was friends with Mal and ended up finding out she was using me and plotting to take over and destroy the place I lived with/for her mother but changed her mind last minute. I would see her as forgivable I just wouldn’t want her around me. In other words I would expect her to start her own new life, not continue trying to live the one where she was plotting without even actually apologizing to people. AU: After descendants instead of continuing to date Ben she breaks it off and goes to an Art school frequently coming back to visit Auradon and after high school she goes on a quest (with the C4 of course) exploring all kinds of different kingdoms and countries because she was locked up on the isle her whole life. In the future she possibly returns to Auardon and even could get back together with Ben with a proper start.

The first Descendants Movie I ever saw so it holds a special place with me and I actually rooted for Mal the first time I watched it. I sat in to watch at the argument scene and knowing all of the plots now and after rewatching it my opinion has change greatly. We see a blonde and very stressed Mal who’s dealing with the pressures of becoming a royal in order to secure her place with Ben. I do feel bad for Mal when she was talking to Evie, she was trying to reach out to her friend about her situation and was basically told to stop talking about it. I understand Evie’s feelings of wanting to leave the past behind but I can also understand Mal feeling like she’s cornered and can’t even talk to her best friend. I can also understand her feelings of ending up overwhelmed with her decisions from going to somebody who did whatever whenever to becoming a royal with duties I get the pressure. If Mal decided that wasn’t the life she wanted to live and went back to the isle where she felt more comfortable I don’t see anything wrong with that. She wasn’t required to stay in Auradon if she felt like she was unhappy there. That says a little something about Auradon to me if somebody would rather live where they ate rotten food than live there. My sympathy for Mal stops there because everything else was a result of her own actions and things she brought onto herself.

1. The royal situation

Let’s get one thing clear nobody was forcing Mal to hand sign up for the prime and proper royal life. She did that herself.

Nobody told her that she had to dye her hair blonde and have a complete wardrobe change, she did.

Nobody said she even had to continue the terrible relationship she had with Ben and go straight into being a royal in order to basically become Ben’s wifey, she did.

She’s saying all of these people are expecting things of her when 6 months ago she was stealing candy from babies when she was the one who let people have these expectations. She decided to take up the role herself because that was what she wanted. Let’s be honest with how it happened Mal would not live in Auradon if she had to be a regular citizen she wanted to be in control of everybody and to have power because that how she always lived. However once she realized that nobody was just about to hand her this power just for being with Ben unlike with her Mom (getting to rule the isle just because she was her daughter and not because she actually worked her way up there) and that she actually had duties and work to fulfill if she wanted to be the boss. She let her pride get in the way by feeling she had to prove she could last with Ben and become an Auradon girl and ended up miserable and blaming Ben for something she decided to do herself.

She then had the responsibility to fulfill all of those duties and she was struggling unlike anybody else who would’ve had to abide by the “don’t use magic” quote on quote rule she decided to use Magic after claiming she’d give it up and was still a hot ass mess. She can’t even use the excuse that was to help her with her lady in training because she was using it to not be late to class and later to try and manipulate Ben. @ishiphumasohard made a good response on why it was unfair for Mal to use magic as her ‘right’ because at what point would it be unfair to other kids? While all the other kids have to show up on time to school Mal gets to use magic to turn back time instead of just being on time. If other kids studied all night for a test Mal can use a speed reading spell. If there was a cooking contest Mal can spell her way into a feast while the others would have to the actual labor. You get the point, because magic is not universally used by everyone in Auradon and it’s an unspoken rule that it’s not to be used then she should have followed this rule.

I will say the girl was stressed and was feeling alone, I already gave my sympathies for that.

The magic situation really hit the fan when she felt comfortable enough to spell the boyfriend who had already put enough trust in her to continue their relationship that started with her drugging him for her own benefit. Compared to her Ben did seem to be taking it easy but maybe like her, he didn’t want to show it. It seems Ben and Mal had a sort of pack to work hard together to become ‘the king and queen’ of Auradon they were supposed to be in it together. In my opinion it would make more sense for Ben to be hiding things from Mal than the other way around due to the nature of their shitty relationship. But that’s just not how it went down and after Mal tries to spell Ben into not finding her spellbook he gets RIGHTFULLY ANGRY. That entire scene was her fault, she could’ve explained herself and why she was using magic and that she was having a hard time but she once again decides to take advantage of Ben’s trust. Then proceeds to make sure she ends the fight with her being the victim. So much so that the entire fact that she spelled Ben was never brought up again.

Going back to the isle

She then decides to go back to the isle, if this was really her decision I wouldn’t mind it. There’s nothing wrong with her liking the isle better than Auradon if that’s where she felt at home. The problem was she was clearly emotional and let’s be honest, if she had called all of her friends together and actually broke up with Ben and told them this was her decision to go back to the isle before leaving they MIGHT (hard might) not have ran after her like they did. Not only that the duties that we were speaking of earlier, she didn’t formally pull out of anything which is why it irked me when she was so irritated that they came back for her.

Some people actually didn’t like her attitude as soon as she got back on the isle because she expected to run it. That wasn’t surprising to me honestly, because for her whole life that’s how it was, only person she was scared of was her mother. She quickly realized however now that her mom isn’t around and in lizard form nobody was scared of her. Most unrealistic part of D2 was how Mal didn’t get jumped as soon as people realized she got back. Like I said Isle Mal was a straight dickhead and had too many enemies to be walking around like she was.

Another point was when she got her hair dyed by dizzy, the shop wasn’t open, she saw this, ignored it and went in anyway. Not even because her and Dizzy were tight like that she just expected her to do what she wanted (get the pattern with Mal here?)

Skipping her scene with harry because it did nothing to the plot.

The rest of the C4 and Ben come to get Mal back as expected and she acts all surprised and angry. Ben apologizes to her and instead of apologizing for what she did and then explaining that she doesn’t want to go back to Auradon and be a lady of the court. She continues the narrative that Ben wanted her to change and that she’s not good for Auradon so she’s going to stay on the isle. What’s the difference between the two? The first one is her taking responsibility of her actions and deciding for herself that that’s not the life she wants. While the other is acknowledging none of the blame and deciding to run away not because that’s not what she really wants but because everyone will turn on her so she has to run first. It painted a narrative that nothing of this was her own doing while at the same time making it seem like she is doing the right thing by backing away which in hindsight probably was the better decision. Mal’s feelings weren’t the problem I understand them, she thinks she won’t be accepted as herself so she wants to leave before they can kick her out but that’s not what caused her to leave and she knows it. You got caught doing something shitty and instead of apologizing you ran away.

After Ben gets kidnapped she lectures the C4, again she does have some blame in this. With the way the fight ended it made it look like Ben was in the wrong so he was going to try and apologize regardless if they brought him or not. The rest of them came to keep him safe and as her gang members come back for her. Was this not something she considered after she calmed herself down? Ben honestly had no reason to be directly on the isle unprotected besides to sneak and apologize to you so are you really going to just blame the C4 for bringing him there and getting him captured?

Then when Uma, who has him captured plans a meeting she antagonizes her like that’s what is best for Ben at the time. Even in the mist of Ben being in danger she thought it was a good idea to try and piss off the person holding him captive. If you don’t remember what she did she called her shrimpy, insulted the smell of the restaurant and said she never thought of Uma while implying that Uma always had her on her mind for no reason. None of that was necessary to ask what Uma’s conditions were to give Ben back she just couldn’t help herself.

She didn’t care about Dizzy

Who had just performed a task for her and right after she paid her got robbed and had the place trashed just for Mal to say she’ll be alright. This should’ve been foreshadowing at the very least that she wasn’t ready to be making decisions for other people’s lives because besides her own and her friends she didn’t care for many especially those on the isle.

It’s going down

Even though it was in the song and not directly her words again antagonizing the person who has Ben held captive and threatening his life, insulting them is stupid. This entire scene is messy and they shouldn’t even had been able to win a fight against pirates outnumbered. When has Mal ever picked up a sword???

Car ride Back

She gets mad when Ben has sympathy/ shows understanding for Uma. She somehow realizes that it’s wrong Uma kidnapped him but was comfortable spelling him without a second thought. In my opinion she thought she had some type of ownership over Ben she could do what she wanted to him and if somebody else did it was wrong. (Even though this can be applied to what she did in D1, I’m only talking about D2 because most people agree she showed regret for her actions in D1) When he calls her out on her hypocrisy she goes mute and does that thing, of letting her mouth hang opened whenever she gets called out on her shit.

END OF PART 1

I was going to make this one long post but I’ve been putting this off long enough so here is part 1, no idea when part 2 will be up. I do hope to have the Ben posts up before that.

#anti mal #anti mal bertha #anti bal #anti ben and mal #ben florian #ben descendants #descendants #disney descendants #audrey descendants #princess audrey #Audrey Rose #evie descendants #ben deserves better #uma descendants

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brightwoods · 3 years ago

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I just have to say that I love your writing - your updates were great even when I was dying of secondhand embarrassment for Alastair at the party :( <3

When Alastair said he didn’t drink that much was he lying? I wonder if a combination of not drinking (ever) and barely eating meant he got drunk really easily/quickly? Either way it’s a sad theme to see Alastair constantly pushing his boundaries for the people he cares about, including drinking with Ariadne/Kamala because he doesn’t want to explain to her why he won’t. (Though it would be interesting to know everyone else’s reaction to Alastair drinking who doesn’t know why it’s significant?)

Anyway - I hope you’re sleeping and eating well and thank you for your wonderful (as always) chapters!! I’m excited to hear what happens next 💕💕

Thank you!

I was dying of secondhand embarrassment while I was writing the scene too 😂

I'm going to put a read more before I get into Alastair's drinking, but there is definitely an answer

By the end of the night he definitely was lying about not having drank that much, but he also didn't start off intending to drink much and his awareness of how drunk something would make him or how drunk he was at any given moment was pretty much nonexistent

The fact that he had barely been eating all day definitely did not help his tolerance. But he also has a very warped idea of how much a person can drink and just get tipsy because he's never drank before and he's very aware of how much Elias can drink before it becomes an issue, but Elias has developed his tolerance well above the average person's, especially someone who just picked at his dinner and has no idea of his own limits...

So he ended up full blown drunk unintentionally before he left Ariadne's house and then drunk Alastair's judgment was impaired when he was like idk this seems fine though, Thomas is kind of annoying coming over to complain about me showing up though so maybe I'll drink a little more and it should be fine... And then he was having fun with Ariadne and having a much better time and he was like oh, this is fun, why did I think this was a bad idea? And he also very much thought that he was less affected by the alcohol than he really was... The self awareness is only going to come when he wakes up the next day

The starting drinking part wasn't really to try to fit in with Ariadne instead of having to tell her. He started off just not drinking without mentioning that he doesn't drink at all, but then he was already annoyed enough from all of the stuff going on with Thomas and him refusing to talk to him but also bugging him with texts and annoyed enough with Charles for sending the screenshot and then having the nerve to bother him like he would just go running back to him after he messed things up with Thomas for him and then when Thomas just would not stop messaging him as if he had any right to try to ban him from the party or throw a fit if he did and Alastair was pissed off and just kind of like fuck it, drinking one time isn't going to be the end of the world, and it's not like I'm going to drink enough to not be able to look after myself (and he's going to be very unhappy that that turned out to not be so true and he had Cordelia having to be his keeper for the night)

And the people who don't know why the drinking would be significant are just kind of like wow that's embarrassing, clearly, someone is not taking his break up well (or in Matthew's case that's embarrassing, clearly, someone can't hold his alcohol without thinking that was about the breakup when he doesn't think the relationship was real) but it's more a haha it's funny how drunk he got than anything else

#Ask #Anonymous #10tihay fic #My Posts

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sierraraeck · 4 years ago

Text

Happier

Spencer x Fem!Reader

Spencer x Luke

Masterlist

Summary: Things have been slowly declining in you and Spencer’s relationship. Going out to a bar alone one night, you figure out why.

Category: Angst.

Warnings: Brief mention of alcohol

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: This was inspired by the song “Happier” by Marshmellow and Bastille. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too.

In the cold light of day we’re a flame in the wind

Not the fire that we’ve begun

But we ran our course, we pretended we’re okay

‘Cause with all that has happened

I think that we both know the way that this story ends

You met Spencer at a bookstore. He was a regular, but it was the first time you actually interacted. He was carrying enough books to nearly block his vision, and when he no-so-gracefully plopped them down at the register in front of you, the whole pile came toppling down. You watched in amusement as he collected three of the books from the floor and placed them back down on the desk, now ready to check out.

“You know, we provide baskets at the front for this reason,” you smirked.

He barely glanced up at you, and shyly said, “Do you know how many germs are on those things?”

You laughed, “I’m not sure I’d like to know.”

He quickly raised his eyebrows at you. “I wish I didn’t.”

You checked out the rest of his books in silence, then wished him a good day on his way out.

The next week, he was back in, and grabbed the same outrageous amount of books, dropping them on his way to you.

“Back so soon?” you questioned, remembering who he was quite well.

“I needed some new reading material,” he shrugged. You cocked an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“The last thirteen books weren’t enough?”

“I finished them,” he nonchalantly stated.

“You’re kidding.” He shook his head. “Jeez. Is the only thing you do read all day?”

“No,” he innocently responded, “I only need a few minutes to read each. I’m actually an FBI agent.”

You stared at him blankly. That was not what you expected. “Wait, what? You’re an FBI agent, and you can read hundreds of pages in only minutes?”

He nodded as if there was nothing impressive about either of those. You were still shocked and mumbled, “Okay, wow.”

The third time he came in, you noticed that he was waiting until your register was free, so that you specifically could check him out. You had a bit more small talk, this time about some of the books he’d read. The fourth time he came in, you left some disinfectant wipes by the baskets, knowing that he really should use one, and wanted the germaphobe in him to feel comfortable taking one. He looked over at you and you smiled at him while he wiped down one of the baskets to use. It was that time while you were checking him out that he asked you on a date. You, of course, said yes. You wanted to know more about this mysterious, handsome man that worked for the FBI and could read an insane amount of books in only a short period of time.

Things were great at the beginning. You got to know each other, and the more you found out about him, the more and more you liked him. The two of you started spending almost all of your free time together, and you were considering asking about moving in together.

That is, until he started pulling away.

You weren’t sure what had gone wrong. Things were great, and then it seemed like one day he went to work interested in you and came home distant. Like his mind was elsewhere. You tried to ask him about it, but he deflected every time. He used to never like going out with his team, but he slowly started spending more time with them, and less time with you. You hinted at wanting to meet his team, and hoped that he’d introduce you to them soon, but with every passing day you grew more doubtful.

You’d been anticipating a break up for a while now, but you just didn’t think it’d be you who did it.

Spencer was out with his team again. He’d only briefly talked about them, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was one of his team members that was holding his attention. Maybe that JJ or Emily person, you thought.

You were tired of being left home alone, and were feeling even more down than usual, so you decided to go out by yourself. If Spencer wasn’t going to have fun with you, you could have fun with you.

You pushed open the door to the bar on the corner of the street, but stopped in your tracks when you saw Spencer, and the group of people around him you quickly put together was his team. You scooted out of the entryway, and just stood there watching them. You felt sort of creepy doing it, but it might’ve been the only time you could see Spencer when he wasn’t around you. Maybe it would tell you something.

What you saw felt like a spear to the chest. Spencer was smiling. He was laughing. God, you missed hearing that laugh, seeing that smile. It’d been so long since he’d done either, and that’s when you realized the full weight of how unhappy Spencer must be with you.

Sure, he’d been pulling away, but the process was so gradual that seeing the stark contrast of him with his team versus him with you was blinding. It was like the universe was throwing it in your face just to mock you. It was painful.

The thing that really got you, though, was the way he was looking at one of his teammates. It wasn’t one of the pretty blondes, or either of the jaw-dropping brunettes, but it was the dashing man next to him. You’d seen those eyes before, the ones Spencer was giving him. He looked at you that way once, but not at all recently.

You felt ashamed for it, but your initial reaction was resentment. You hated the very attractive man with deep brown eyes and a little scruff that you’d never met. He was the reason that your Spencer was drifting from you.

But that’s the thing. He wasn’t ‘your’ Spencer. He was just a cute, shy, germaphobic guy that you met at a bookstore. And based on the way that he was looking at his teammate, you wondered if maybe Spencer hadn’t been ‘yours’ for a while now.

Unbeknownst to you, you’d started tearing up, and only noticed it when some of the people around you started giving you strange looks. You furiously wiped at your face, and took a few deep breaths. At that moment, you decided to leave, to calm yourself down for the rest of the night and confront him about it tomorrow.

You were nearly out the door when you heard that oh-so-familiar voice call out, “Hey, Y/N!” You turned to see Spencer slightly jogging towards you, “What are you doing here?”

You experienced forever in a moment, hundreds of thoughts swarming your mind in an instant: I’m here because he never wants to spend time with me anymore and I was going to drown my feelings in alcohol; It doesn’t matter why I’m here because now I know what’s been going on between us; I can’t stay with him; but I love him; maybe we can make it work; he’s clearly unhappy with me and I’ve known it for a long time; the way he looks at his coworker is the way I want him to look at me; can I ever make him look at me like that again; what did I do wrong; this is that man’s fault; this is Spencer’s fault; this is my fault; maybe I’m just not good enough for him; why am I not good enough for him; god I think I might cry again; no I need to pull myself together, that’d be embarrassing; I wish I was good enough so I could see him smile and hear him laugh like that again; that man made him smile like that and laugh like that, something I haven’t been able to do in a long time; he doesn’t love me; he loves him; I love him; I want him to be happy, he deserves to be happy; I deserve to be happy; I want him to be happier than he is with me; I want him to be as happy as he is with that man all the time; I want that happiness to be with me, but it’s not; I want him to be happier.

We shouldn’t do this anymore.

It’s not that you couldn’t do it anymore, you wanted nothing more than to keep fighting for the two of you, but you had the astonishing thought that you just shouldn’t. I wouldn’t be fair for you to keep Spencer from the man he truly wanted, and it wasn’t fair to yourself to continue in this relationship.

In the blink of an eye, you heard yourself speak the words you never thought you would, words you couldn’t even believe you were saying out loud, right now, to the man you just realized you loved. “I’m breaking up with you.” You felt tears rising to the surface, but you swallowed them down. This is for the best.

Spencer looked beyond shocked, like he surly hadn’t heard you correctly. “What? Why?”

You gave him a sad smile, “Spence, this is the first time I’ve seen you happy, like really truly happy. And you know what? It’s not with me.”

This just confused him further. “I don’t…” he trailed off.

You gestured toward the strong-jawed man who was trying, and failing, to not-so-subtly look your guys’ way. “It’s with him.”

Spencer followed your gaze, and offered a small, confused laugh. “Who, Luke? No, we’re just-”

“I swear to god, if you finish that sentence with ‘just friends’ I will slap you across the face,” you cut him off. Spencer gave you a slightly startled look, so you lowered your voice to a more calming one. “Look, you should be with him, okay? You actually want to spend time with him and you’re smiling which I feel like I haven’t seen you do in months.”

Spencer was shaking his head. “Y/N, I can try harder, we can-”

You held up your hand to stop him. “I don’t want you to have to try. No one should have to try that hard to keep this going. It should be easy, effortless, which is what you’re getting from someone else. So no, we can’t and more than that, I don’t want to.” You felt almost as surprised as Spencer looked from your words. They were true, from the depths of your soul you felt how true your words were, and couldn’t believe that you were finally admitting that.

Spencer’s voice was small when he asked, “Why?”

You heard the double meaning behind the question, and answered with the first thing that came to mind. “Because I love you.” You realized it was the first, last, and only time you’d get to say that. “And that’s why I want you to be happy, even if it isn’t with me.”

Spencer was about to respond when a high pitched voice, sounding slightly drunk and a little bit annoyed, yelled across the room, “Yeah, new guy!” You saw the tall man approaching the two of you, and it all kinda clicked into place. New guy. So when it felt like one day Spencer woke up loving me, and came home distracted, that wasn’t too far off. He went to work that day, which was probably the same day that ‘new guy’ started working with him. It all started slowly making sense in your head.

‘New guy,’ Luke, walked up to the two of you, standing shoulder to shoulder with Spencer, and cautiously started, “Hey, what’s going on here?”

Looking at the man before you, you hated to admit it, but your anger diminished a little, and your jealousy grew. He was a very attractive man, full, strong build, piercing eyes, gentle face, and about the same height as Spencer.

You gave Spencer a pointed look about the proximity in which they were standing, especially when the other man’s shoulder brushed up against his. Spencer wasn’t a touchy person, but he actually seemed to relax in the other man’s presence. That spoke volumes.

You knew this Luke guy was also a profiler, so he could probably sense the tension, granted anyone probably could’ve. He quickly looked at Spencer before directing his attention back to you. “Can we help you with something?”

You wanted to scoff, or laugh, or vomit. Maybe all three at the same time. Can we help you with something? Clearly Spencer had never told any of them about you, and you couldn’t help but smile, with just a hint of bitterness, at his immediate use of ‘we.’ As if you were a threat that he needed to help Spencer defuse. But you also smiled because you were right. Again, it didn’t take a profiler to spot the very different tension between the two of them.

You shook your head, looking more at Spencer than at the other man, “No, I don’t think so. Not anymore.” There was no malice in your voice, only sadness, with just a dash of exhaustion. Who knew that pretending like your relationship wasn’t sinking took so much effort?

Spencer gave Luke a tight smile, “Just give us a minute?”

He wearily nodded, but backed away from the two of you. You sighed, “Look, he seems like a good guy and clearly already loves you in some capacity, and you know what?” You half-joked, “If he does something stupid you give me his number and I’ll give him a call.”

This earned a small laugh from Spencer, which made you want to both smile and cry. Of course, it was only after you’d broken up that you could get him to laugh. You settled for a small smile, and an immediate awkwardness settled over the two of you.

You made the first move, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. With a comforting hand on his shoulder, you looked into his sad eyes, and whispered, “Bye, Spencer.”

Those were the last words you exchanged, and you walked out of that bar without another look back.

You were letting him go.

You were setting him free.

Then only for a minute

I want to change my mind

‘Cause this just don’t feel right to me

I wanna raise your spirits

I want to see you smile but

Know that means I’ll have to leave

So I’ll go

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