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bella-rose29 · 5 months

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Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - Part 2

To make this work (I'm sorry) the reader has a very large family, and they will have names (I genuinely cannot be asked to try and figure that out and make it entirely... non OC)

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: swearing, lockwood and children so beware your hearts, lockwood gets hugged and can't deal with it, the family members are mean, reader doesn't eat much, lockwood is still a bit of an arse and so is the reader (but hers is more justified), proofread maybe once

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So far, it had absolutely been a shitshow.

Lockwood had remained silent for the next hour and a half of the train journey, and with not much else to do but plan every tiny detail of their fake relationship Y/n thought she might be going mad.

Luckily they already knew a lot about each other, so they could get away with not going over basic details about the other's life, but Y/n hadn't talked much about her family to anyone other than George in rants after phone calls with them, so if they thought that she was talking shit about them behind their backs (which she was, but they didn't need to know that) then they would descend like vultures.

She was disrupted from her thoughts when Lockwood stood up from the table seats they'd managed to get, his leg kicking at hers as he manoeuvred into the aisle, not sparing a second glance at Y/n. She frowned, about to call after him and ask where he was going, but when he disappeared out the doors and into the next carriage she decided that she didn't really care, and at least he wasn't brooding in her field of vision.

Y/n had barely been on her own for a minute when a family of five came into the carriage (they must have got on at the station they had recently stopped at), and with her being the only one sat on a table on her own and all the others taken, they made for her. She swallowed, for once wishing Lockwood was here to make her look less selfish, and sat up a little straighter in her seat.

"Excuse me, but would you mind moving? We've got three kids and need somewhere for us all to sit, and since there's only one of you..." The man trailed off, looking at Y/n pointedly, and while initially she had wanted to hold her ground she could feel herself shrinking under his gaze.

Where the fuck is Lockwood?!

He could talk his way out of this, she was sure. It was one of the few things she begrudgingly accepted was brilliant about him. It's not like Y/n didn't need the table; Lockwood's huge bag was sat on it and taking up most of the space, and her own backpack was on the seat next to her, but suddenly her breath was coming too quickly and her throat was closing up, and the man in front of her looked a little too similar to that one uncle-

"Is everything alright?" Lockwood's voice broke through the silence, and Y/n was annoyed to find herself reaching for him.

"Yeah, we just need this table, but this girl isn't moving."

"Sorry, my girlfriend's pretty tired at the moment, what with agents being in high demand right now. How about if we share? I think she needs a nap, poor thing, and we've got rather a lot of luggage between the two of us. I'll move over her side, shall I? Then you can take the other- yes, hello, little one." One of the couples' children had been tugging on Lockwood's hand, and Y/n could see the man's posture relax the more Lockwood talked, watching as her fake-boyfriend picked up the small child with ease and planted him on the train seat. The other two followed quickly, glad to not be on their feet any longer, and Lockwood came to sit next to Y/n, pulling his bag closer to them on the table and shoving her backpack onto the floor between everyone's legs. "See, you three all fit there perfectly don't you! You're only small," Lockwood was saying to the children, not yet noticing Y/n's shaky state. Their parents seemed to be content with the arrangement, taking their own seats across the aisle where they could watch their kids, and through the slight haze covering her eyes Y/n could see them visibly relax.

Once everybody was settled, Lockwood shuffled around in his seat trying to get comfortable, and when his elbow accidentally jabbed into Y/n's side he frowned at her.

"You alright?" he whispered, not wanting to draw the attention of their new companions. She took a moment to reply, not quite registering that Lockwood had actually said anything.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine."

"Right... just- you didn't say anything when I elbowed you just then and I'm worried you might be having a stroke."

"I'm not having a stroke, you idiot," she said, glare appearing on her face. She had some much better names for him, but with three children under the age of ten in front of her, she figured she should stick to the more family-friendly ones. Lockwood smiled, bright and wide and far too blinding.

"That's better." Apparently he had forgotten about the mishap on the platform earlier, and his previous ignorance of her presence, because after that he launched into a whole spiel of what their plan would be.

"Actually," she interrupted, not caring that he looked annoyed, "I've had a lot of time to figure this out. I just need you to confirm or come up with something better on a few things and we should be fine."

"Alright then, what's your grand plan?"

"Well we already know most of the basic stuff about each other, what with living together for nearly three years, so that solves that problem. One thing I did think of was family, since neither of us have actually..." she trailed off, unsure where the two of them stood on that subject given what had happened earlier. Lockwood was only nodding, his brow furrowed.

"Come to think of it, you've never really mentioned your family much," he said.

Y/n shrugged. "I just don't... you know... I just don't..." she flailed her hands around in front of her for a few moments, trying to come up with the right words.

"I don't know," Lockwood replied coolly, "Should I?"

"I just thought I'd tell you about who's gonna be there today, which is my mum and dad, my four brothers, my sister, my Aunt Linda, and her daughter Stephanie. Oh, and my grandparents on my mother's side, but they'll probably be in bed by the time we get there."

"That's... a lot of people."

"Yeah. There'll be more for the party tomorrow, and then the day after will be the same group from today again, and we're leaving that day anyway."

"Okay... what about names?"

"My mum is called Emma, my dad is Ben, my brothers are Sam, John, William, and Tom from oldest to youngest, and then my sister is called Olivia. My Grandma is Jean and my Gramps is Richard."

"Right." Lockwood paused for a moment, reciting the names under his breath. "Anything else I should know?"

"Aunt Linda and Steph are gonna be the worst, since they always try and make life miserable for me. They're ridiculously rich and like making fun of my job- oh, yeah, barely anybody supports my life choices or my job as an agent, so just prepare for that. Uh, where was I? Oh yeah, Steph and Linda will try and find out anything that could be used against us, so I really hope you can act because otherwise they'll figure this whole thing out in seconds."

"Wait-"

"And my brother Will is the most supportive, 'cause he knows that there are options for work after my Talent fades and I'm not going to be out on the streets-"

"Y/n-"

"-and he, John and Sam all play rugby so try not to piss them off because they're twice your size and will snap you like a twig-"

"Y/n!"

"What?!"

"You need to slow down! Go back to the part about your family not supporting your job?"

"Oh, there's not much to it, really." She felt awkward now, his gaze far too sharp for her liking. If he knew the full extent of how much she didn't like her family, he would waste no time in using it to make fun of her and take the upper hand while he could, and she would be left to sink further into herself until she disappeared. "They just don't think I'll have many options, so they want me to think about my next steps."

"Okay..." Lockwood trailed off, getting distracted by something the children were talking about and being asked his opinion on starfish. He looked as though he was about to start conversing with her again, but the train pulled into the platform they needed, and Lockwood was all business getting the luggage out safely.

~~~

"Are you alright?"

Y/n jumped a little in the back of the taxi, not expecting Lockwood's voice so close to her ear. "Yeah, I'm fine, why?"

"You're very bouncy. If you're fine then could you not? You're jolting me."

Why had she thought he was trying to be nice? She should have known better by now that he wouldn't ever be that way with her, but it still stung.

Truthfully, she was on the verge of tears.

She wouldn't ever tell Lockwood that, of course, because how could he understand? He seemed to walk into any situation effortlessly, with endless optimism and charm that made life easy for him. Y/n was stuck panicking about seeing her family again, because if she couldn't even stand up to some random strangers on the train, how was she ever going to stand up to her family? No, she would just have to do her best to hide everything from Lockwood, to reduce the amount of blackmail material he would have against her.

~~~

The taxi pulled up outside the large cottage-style house, and Lockwood let out a low whistle.

"L/n, you never said your family was this fancy."

"They aren't. It was my Grandma's house, then she got dodgy knees and never moved out, and we moved in after selling up our old place to look after her and Gramps. We're about as fancy as your family, Lockwood, in that we too have multiple mortgages on this building to keep it."

"Anthony."

"What?" Y/n frowned, not sure what he was talking about.

"If we're going to pretend that we're dating, you probably shouldn't be calling me by my last name."

"Oh." She hadn't thought about that. The only reason she even knew his first name was because it was in large print on the sign outside the house, since it was generally accepted that he went by Lockwood and that was that.

"Or you could use some sort of nickname. I've got a few for you if you'd like to hear them." The grin on his face made Y/n think that she really didn't want to hear them, but he opened his mouth again anyway. "How about Sugarplum?" Y/n got out the car, slamming the door shut on him a little more harshly than she needed to. "Snookums? I think you look like a Snookums." The taxi driver was giving the two of them strange looks as he unloaded their bags, but Y/n ignored Lockwo- Anthony (she would have to get used to that) and handed over the money for the drive. "What about Sun Beam? Actually, you're too grumpy for that one. Oh, I know! My personal favourite," he paused for some sort of dramatic effect, being left behind on the driveway as Y/n stomped towards the front door. "Schmoopie."

Y/n stopped suddenly, turning to look back at her fake boyfriend with an incredulous look on her face. "Schmoopie?" He looked far too proud of himself as he picked up his bag and caught up with her, and she resisted the urge to hit him.

"Don't you like it, Schmoopie?"

"Call me that again and I'll be chucking your Source in the furnaces within the week." Lockwood (Anthony - she really needed to start calling him Anthony or she'd be saying 'Lockwood' to her family) Can't you just use my name? Or, you know, a more generic pet name?"

"Fine. You're very boring, I hope you know that."

"Sure. Just swear to me you'll never call me 'Schmoopie' again." She said the word with disgust, scrunching her nose up and fighting the urge to gag.

"Whatever you want, darling." That wasn't much better, but at least it was normal. Y/n raised her hand to knock, but before she could the door was being flung open, revealing a woman in a very festive jumper.

"You're here! She's here!"

~~~

Lockwood stood back slightly as the woman wrapped her arms around Y/n, squeezing so tightly he feared for his colleague's spine.

He braced himself for a similar treatment when she pulled back and spotted him, and the next thing he knew he was close to being suffocated as she brought him into a hug. Lockwood held his breath, his eyes wide and arms stuck out to the side as he tried to figure out what the hell he was meant to be doing. He hadn't been hugged like this since, well, since Jess. It took him a few seconds to work out that he needed to reciprocate the hug, but once he had, god. Why was he choking up? He could feel Y/n's eyes on him, so he shut his own and basked in the feeling of actually being held.

"You must be the boyfriend!" the woman said, pulling back and holding him by the forearms.

"Mum! Please don't terrify him!"

So this was Emma L/n, Y/n's mother.

"Yes, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs L/n." He flashed one of his winning smiles, and he could see her visibly relaxing.

"Oh Emma, please!" She looked back over her shoulder at Y/n, mouthing (incredibly non-subtly) 'He's handsome!'

"Mum!" Y/n hissed, starting to turn red.

"What's your name then young man!"

"Anthony Lockwood," he replied, and took particular pleasure in seeing Y/n squirm in the background.

"Well, you'd better come in. Do you need help with the bags?"

"Oh, no, I've got them," he assured her, shouldering his large bag and reaching for the suitcase handle that Y/n was currently holding onto. She didn't relent for a moment, and they had a silent argument for control of the suitcase until eventually with a small tug he won, stumbling ever so slightly from the effort.

"Everything alright?" Emma asked, frowning at the two of them.

"Yes, perfectly fine!" Lockwood called back, shooting a glare at Y/n. She reciprocated, clenching her jaw at his smug smile that came afterwards. He moved inside the house, Y/n following shortly behind and closing the door to keep the warmth in.

"Where should we put our bags?" Y/n asked her mother.

~~~

They had a problem.

A very large problem.

"Well I'm not sharing with you," Lockwood said, moving further into the room that Y/n's mother had shown them to.

"Good," she said, eyeing the double bed. "Just don't complain when your back gives in from sleeping on the floor for so long."

"What? No, I'm taking the bed."

"It's my family home, what gives you more reason to have the bed than me?"

"I'm your boss, and I pay your wages. If you want to keep being paid then I'm having the bed."

Y/n scoffed, shaking her head. "Arsehole," she muttered, going over to the windows and closing the curtains against the now-dark sky outside. The bed was definitely large enough for two people to share, but when those two people hated each others' guts and weren't actually dating, the bed was far too small.

"What was that?"

"Arsehole," she repeated loudly, making sure to look him dead in the eyes when she did so, then immediately turning and heading into the en-suite bathroom.

"What is your issue with me?" he said, following after her.

"You're taking the bed! It's my fucking house!"

"Let's not forget that without me, you would be in a lot more of a tricky situation! I think I deserve the bed for my efforts; it's not easy pretending to love you, you know!"

"Oh, like it's so easy to love you?! You are so horrible to me, all the time, and now I have to pretend to actually want to be with you?! I'd have been in a difficult situation anyway, the only difference is that in this one, I have a fake boyfriend. I could deal with the humiliation of not having anyone with me, but this?" she laughed bitterly. "This is near to being beyond me, Lockwood." Fuck, why was she tearing up? She closed the bathroom door firmly in Lockwood's face, ignoring the shocked expression on his face in the second before he disappeared from her view.

She pushed the lock, waiting for the click before turning and facing the sink, bracing her hands on the edge and heaving a few deep breaths. She hadn't realised how hard it would be to pretend that she was completely fine around her family while they picked and prodded and commented and made snide remarks, and having Lockwood around was only making it worse.

She couldn't even begin to imagine all the things he would use as ammunition in the future. He'd have a field day on this holiday, taking all of her family's words and turning them against her, becoming even worse than he had been before.

A knock sounded on the door, light and unsure, and Lockwood's voice followed afterwards. "...Y/n? I- I'm-" he sighed, and she could imagine him clenching his jaw and looking up at the ceiling as he tried to fight against the nice words he was clearly trying to say. "I have a shit sleep schedule anyway, and you go to sleep a lot faster than I do so it's better for me to sit in a chair when I can't get to sleep and you can lie down, so... yeah." Y/n was surprised at how kind he was, and was starting to wonder if he was having some sort of stroke. But then he started talking again and she knew that he was completely fine.

"If you could not take for fucking ever in the bathroom though that would be great, because I really need a piss."

~~~

"Ah, there you both are! You took your time putting your bags away!" Linda's gaze drifted to Y/n as she said that, eyes sharpening and making the back of Y/n's neck prickle.

"Oh, that's my fault, sorry," Lockwood started, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in. Y/n stiffened, not used to being so close to him, and tried to force a smile onto her face. "I got carried away asking questions about the photos around the room, and I think I might have driven her slightly mad." He was smiling so widely and cheerfully that Y/n could practically feel everybody relaxing and warming up to him. It was frustrating, really, how they had known him for roughly ten seconds and already seemed to like him more than her. Her brothers were eyeing him up, trying to figure out whether they needed to take him outside or just give him a good talking to. Her sister Olivia was also eyeing Lockwood up, but in a very different way to their brothers that was making Y/n somewhat uncomfortable. It wasn't that they didn't get on and that was what was wrong, but they were sisters, and therefore they naturally disagreed on some things.

Apparently Lockwood's level of attractiveness was one of them.

"Oh, not to worry," her mother said, already loving having Lockwood here. "I made tea, if you'd like some? There's cake too, and far too much of it, so take as much as you want!"

"Tea would be lovely, Emma, thank you," Lockwood said, moving his arm away from Y/n's shoulders. She nearly jumped out of her skin in shock when she felt his hand land on her lower back instead, pushing her forward towards the empty loveseat that sat closest to the roaring fire. "Try not to look quite so horrified at this whole thing, darling," he whispered right into her ear, emphasising the pet name. "And maybe relax a little too, yeah?" He sat down on the chair, leaving very little room for Y/n to sit down herself without pressing up against him. She gave up trying to keep space between them when she ended up perching on the edge and gained strange looks from everyone else. Lockwood pulled her back towards him, grabbing her waist with both hands and tugging until she was right up against his chest, their thighs pressed together. He didn't let go, keeping his arms around her and nestling his head in the crook of her neck. She hadn't loosened up since walking in to the living room, and she was entirely sure that her spine was as stiff as one of the wooden floorboards under her feet. Her mother handed over two mugs of tea, placing them on the small side table next to their chair, then went to cut two slices of cake, starting with Lockwood's. He accepted his plate gratefully, smiling brightly up at her.

"How big of a slice, Y/n/n?"

"Uh... maybe-"

"Don't give her too big of a slice, she doesn't need that much," Stephanie interrupted, her tone sickly sweet. Y/n froze, and behind her she could feel Lockwood glancing between the two girls, trying to figure out what was happening. Her mother cut a decent sized slice, ignoring her niece's comment and handing the plate to Y/n.

"Did you make this, Emma?" Lock-Anthony (she might just give up trying to correct herself in a minute) asked.

"Oh, yeah, but you know, it's not my best."

"Well I think it's delicious, you'll have to share the recipe with me so I can have more of it back in London!"

"I'd be happy to! Do you bake then?"

"Oh, no, I'm awful. I'd burn the house down I'm sure. But our friend George is a magician in the kitchen."

"Remind me what you do for work again?" her father asked.

"Actually, maybe you could just... tell us. Since we know nothing about you!" Linda laughed. "We don't even know your name!"

"Anthony Lockwood," he said, yet another of his classic Lockwood smiles taking over his face. Y/n was starting to feel sick from the way Stephanie and Linda were watching them, and she put her fork down on her plate. "Y/n hasn't mentioned me much then?"

"No," Linda simpered. "I have to say, I was very surprised when I heard my sister say that Y/n had a boyfriend. I'm even more surprised that you actually exist!"

"I can't really blame her for not saying anything, I suppose. We're very busy a lot of the time and when we are free I'm often dragging her out on dates and the like, so if you haven't heard from her then that's entirely my fault." God, how was he such a good liar? Everybody believed him right away, but if she tried to get away with something like that they'd be asking so many questions she would give up and tell the truth.

"And... what is it you do for work?" her father asked again, desperate for the answer.

"I'm an agent."

"Fittes or Rotwell?"

"Uh... no, I-"

"Bunchurch then? Or maybe Grimble?"

"Actually," Lockwood glanced at Y/n, and she nodded slightly, bracing herself for her family's reaction. "I run my own agency. George, who I mentioned earlier, is our researcher, Lucy is our Listener, Holly our secretary, and then of course there's Y/n. Best Touch in England." He squeezed her slightly, and when she looked back at him he was smiling up at her so adoringly that she wondered how she ever hated him.

Then he jabbed her side, making her wobble and nearly spill the tea that she'd just picked up, and she remembered that he was a dick.

"Your... own... agency?"

"Yes." Lockwood didn't seem perturbed, which was lucky, because Y/n was feeling increasingly more unsettled with every second that passed. "We're based in London in my family home, but we take clients from all around England."

"Right... so that makes you Y/n's... boss?"

"I know it's not... the usual, but there is nothing that says we cannot be in a relationship. Believe me, I've checked. I don't think there is anything that could have been done to stop me from falling for your daughter, sir, despite her own best efforts, and I like to think that I keep my role as her boss completely separate from my role as her boyfriend."

Y/n stared at him in mild shock, not quite believing how sincere he sounded, and Lockwood was refusing to look at her.

Uneasy glances were exchanged by nearly all of Y/n's gathered family members, the only exceptions being Will, who had always supported Y/n, and Olivia, who was too busy checking Lockwood out. Y/n put her plate of cake down, having spent the last few minutes picking at it and barely eating any, and ignored the look that Lockwood gave her. She wasn't feeling hungry at all now that she was surrounded by everyone, and Stephanie was watching every move she made with terrifying intensity. No doubt there would be some fresh insults this year, and Y/n couldn't wait to be back home again.

Home.

Since when had she considered Lockwood's house her home?

"You alright?" Lockwood whispered in her ear. He kept asking her that, and it was freaking her out a little.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She stood up, gently detaching herself from Lockwood's grip and putting her mug of tea on the side table, half drunk. "Just need the loo, be back in a bit." She tried smiling at everyone, but the water gathering in her eyes made it difficult to pretend that she was actually fine, and she left the room finding it hard to breathe. Y/n headed up the stairs and into the bathroom attached to the room that she and Lockwood were staying in, and for the second time that day braced herself on the sink as she tried to regain control of her body. "Fuck," she muttered. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." She splashed some cold water on her face, holding it against her skin in the hopes that it would shock her back into being alright again, then turned off the tap and sat on the floor, her back to the sink and her legs stretched out in front.

Only two more days to go, and then she could go back to her normal life.

Two more days of this, and she was free, and could eat as much cake as she wanted, because George and Lucy would be stuffing their faces too.

She just had to fake it until then.

part 3

Tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams, @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @locklyebrainrot, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop (I just realised I hadn't added you I'm so sorry 😭 although I don't know if you wanted to be added actually idkkk) @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

please let me know if I've missed you off the series tag list, and I'll put you right on! <3

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #enemies to lovers #fake dating #christmas

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ghostboneswrites2 · 2 months

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Dirty 30 || One Shot

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring all my work here slowly!

Request from @mrs--hiddleston on my old blog: It's my 30th Birthday today and I was wondering if I could request some fluff of all fluff related around the reader turning 30? They're very shy, always been told they're not good enough, escapee of a abusive relationship, never really been shown love?

Summary: Daryl plans a special day for you on your 30th birthday.

18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: profanity, mentions of past abuse, mostly fluffy

"Why didn't ya tell me?" Daryl asked from behind you. You were doing your usual; morning coffee for everyone, heating some bread and jam for everyone, other general morning duties to give everyone a start tot heir day. You were always the first to rise and the last to fall asleep.

"Uh.. Tell you what?" You asked nervously. Had you forgotten to relay an important message? You hoped you hadn't messed up anything important.

"Ya know." He urged.

"I do?"

The only thing you could think was your birthday, but you'd never told anyone about it before and it wasn't a problem then. Plus, you'd hate to walk around begging for self celebration.

"Thirty?" He asked. You paused spreading jam on the toasted bread and turned to face him.

"I..."

"Why wouldn't ya tell me?" He pushed.

Why would you? You two had grown pretty close since his arrival at Alexandria, where you'd spent the majority of the apocalypse. He visited you constantly, and a few of his friends lived with you. He took you on rides on his motorcycle, you two walked through the woods together. Still, you couldn't see it for what it was, and that was blatant interest in pursuing you.

"I -- I don't know." You mumbled sheepishly.

"Yeah ya do."

"I.. forgot?" You tried to excuse it. The truth was just that you didn't know when or how to tell someone you had an upcoming day to be celebrated. You had never been celebrated, not once in your life. These people you had come to know and love had better things to do than spend their time on you.

"No ya didn't." He shook his head, stepping closer to you.

"I -- What's the big deal?"

"It's your birthday." He said plainly.

"Yeah, but I mean.. lots of people have birthdays. People that do a lot more for the world than me."

"So?"

"So I dunno.."

"Didn't think it was important?"

"No." You admitted. "I'm sorry."

" 'S alright." He shrugged, grabbing a slice of toast from behind you and taking a bite. "C'mon," he talked through his full mouth, dry crumbs falling from his lips. "Eat and get ready."

"W -- Where are we.."

"Just hurry up."

He was annoyed he didn't have time to get you a gift, but he still had a plan. You didn't talk much, or, really, you were borderline silent. He liked that about you sometimes, but he often wished you'd give him more. More about you, more of your interests, more of your thoughts, more of your voice, just more.

----

"Ever been out this far?" He wondered. You shook your head. "Mm. Should take ya out more."

You blushed a little. Nobody had ever taken you out, except maybe when your grandpa was still around and he took you for ice cream.

You followed closely behind him. He had taken you on his bike until about a mile ago, from there the two of you had been hiking through the Virginia woods, mostly in silence. He wasn't much of a talker and you never felt like you had anything interesting to say. You came to a stop and gasped. He led you to the edge of a cliff. Not a big one like the Grand Canyon or something, but it was tall. It overlooked a waterfall on the far left, the mist raising and creating prismatic rainbows all around. You looked up at him with wide eyes as he took in the scene. His eyes landed on you, a small half smile playing at his lips.

"Like it?" He asked. You nodded quickly, eyes falling back to the grand display of the earth's natural beauty.

"I always wanted to see a place like this." You breathed. "You brought me here to show me?" You turned your attention back to him. He nodded as he looked down at you through the corner of his eyes. "Wow." Was all you could say.

"Thought ya might like it. Ya didn't give me heads up enough to find you a real gift."

"A real gift?" You scoffed. "I've never seen anything this beautiful."

He struggled to contain a smile. Triumph. He found the perfect thing for you, even when you didn't want him to.

"I have."

"You have?" You asked innocently. "Like a bigger waterfall?"

"Nah." He shook his head, eyes still on you, as nothing, not even a waterfall, would compare to that sight.

"Oh." You choked. Was he talking about you? Of course not.

"You have too." He told you. You pushed your eyebrows together in confusion.

"I think I'd remember that."

"Ya look in the mirror every day, don't ya?"

"Well, yeah but I don't -- " Your eyes grew wide. He did mean you. "I -- I -- Oh."

You stuttered and stumbled. Your ears and cheeks felt hot and you didn't even register the cheesy grin on your face.

He studied your face, grazing over every detail like words on a page. You were shy and reserved, much like him in a lot of ways, but unlike him your face was very expressive. Your eyes could tell him a thousand words in a mere second, and right now you read pure, astonished joy.

"This is--"

"Got somethin' else to show ya."

He led you along the side of the cliff and helped you climb down some large boulders before he stopped you, gently tugging your arm down behind one of the boulders.

"Ya see?" He whispered. You peered over the surface of the large rock and scanned your eyes before you saw them. A Doe and her fawns. They were grazing the grass and drinking from the still water at the foot of the lake where the waterfall dumped into.

"Oh my.." You breathed, eyes watering. Such purity in this world was a rarity at best.

"Found 'em when I was trackin' a buck." He told you. "Didn't have it in me to kill 'em."

"They look so happy." You nearly cried. He placed a hand on your back, right between your shoulders. He was always respectful of your body, never once touching an area that felt too intimate. Maybe one day, he thought, but never before you were ready.

You leaned in closer to him, resting your weight into his side. You couldn't peel your eyes away. A family of deer knew more peace than you had ever known, and you had the privilege of witnessing it. You never would have, had it not been for him.

"Got one more surprise for ya." He whispered. You looked over at him, daring to break away from the beauty before you. He reached in his pocket and pulled something out. The glimmer of metal against the sun caught your eye first. When he let the thin chain hang from your fingers you realized it was a necklace. A dainty thing that looked like silver, with what looked like a handmade pendant. You slowly took it from him, looking closer at it.

The pendant was a river rock, one that was naturally tumbled to a perfect little oval by the rushing waters of whatever stream he found it in. He had wrapped it in a thin metal wire, intricately weaving it in a pattern that looked neat and tidy. You ran your thumb over the smooth surface.

"It's quartz, I think." He told you.

"I think so too." You smiled, a tear spinning down your cheek. "You made this?"

"I found the chain but.. Yeah." He nodded. You couldn't restrain yourself. You threw your arms around his neck, clutching his gift tightly in your fist. Salty tears glistened down your cheeks. Nobody had ever been this kind to you, let alone a man. Men had abused you, called you names, reminded you every day how worthless you were. Your father, every boyfriend, your brothers, your uncles. Not a single masculine soul had showed you kindness before, let alone put so much thought into making a day special for you.

"This is the best birthday I've ever had." You whispered.

His arms settled around you, embracing you in a strong hold.

"C'mon. It ain't that special--"

"No." You shook your head, releasing him and looking him in the eyes as you quickly wiped your tears. "No, you don't get it. This is the most anyone has done for me. Ever."

His eyes bore into yours, deciding you were serious. How disappointing to know that something as simple as a rock on a chain could sweep you away like this. Surely you deserved better.

"I'll make the next one even better, if you'll let me."

----

It was nearly nightfall by the time you made it back to Alexandria. He helped you off his bike, ever the gentleman, and held his hand on your mid-back the entire time he walked you home. You led him inside, planning to pour a glass of homemade mead for the two of you, but you realized there was light coming through your back windows.

"What's that?" You inquired as the two of you walked to the backdoor. He stepped in front of you, wanting to open the door first. He held it open for you.

As you stepped outside you nearly cried all over again. He admired your wide eyes as they glistened under the lights that had been strung up all around, marveling at all of the people, food, and drinks that had been waiting for you.

"Happy birthday!" Everyone shouted. Rosita was the first to run up and hug you.

"You didn't think we'd let you keep it a secret, did you?" She grinned as she stepped to the side. Everyone else came one by one. Tara, Rick, Michonne, Maggie, Glenn, a few of your friends from before Rick's people arrived. You didn't know this many people even liked you.

Abraham stepped forward with a glass of wine for you. "Happy dirty-thirty." He winked as you accepted the glass. You spun and looked at Daryl, who was watching with a satisfied little smile.

"You did this?" You asked. He shrugged.

"Yes, he did. Don't let him tell you any different." Carol spoke up for him.

"More like, he planned it." Tara interjected.

"Yeah, we did all the hard work." Rick teased.

And there it was. The first time you felt free to just talk. To enjoy people and be enjoyed. To allow others to celebrate you, and to celebrate the love they had for you.

Daryl spent the rest of that night by your side, a large gesture for someone who tended to avoid social gatherings. You ate food, chatted with people, opened up about silly little things you would have never thought anyone cared to hear. You drank, giggled, laughed, danced, and for the first time in a long time -- maybe ever -- had a good time.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl twd #daryl x female reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #mdni

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zoros-bandana · 1 year

Text

A Drunken Proclaim

(SFW)

Slight fluff/slight angst

Warning: mentions of drinking, being drunk, drunk confession

Summary: once again drunk at another straw hat party you found yourself looking for the missing surgeon, unexpectedly leading to an unofficial and abrupt confession of his feelings.

Word Count: 1,300

(A/n: I don’t have my notes with me for my other requests I’m working on as I’m on holidays but I really am just craving writing some Law stuff right now and will get back to them next week)

Pulling yourself out of the uproar, you found a clearing through the legs of Franky; a band of dance moves sweeping you into the middle of the floor. Taking a quick sip from your bottle of alcohol, you moved further out, your mind spinning from the overbearing and shrill music. It hadn't taken much convincing for Luffy to throw another party, his excuses becoming more bleak for reasons to celebrate.

The crew, however, was happy to take some time out and forget their troubles, even the likes of the usual quiet Zoro and Robin taking their turn on the dance floor. It was admittedly a wonderful night, as these things always were. However, there was a part of you that felt off, missing a familiar face as Luffy twirled you around the floor; watching him closely not to hurt you.

Sweeping over the crowd you found Bepo, losing any remaining worry as he swayed and fanned himself down; lost in the rhythm of the song. As usual, his captain was nowhere to be found, creating the perfect mission to escape for a few moments; wishing to retrieve the surgeon in a hope he might dance with you.

You stumbled into the infirmary, tightly grasping the same bottle you had carried around for the last few hours; more comfort than beverage. The room was dimly lit, a few stray candles surrounding the surgeon as he leaned forward, lost in the stacks of papers under his nose. He was focused, as usual, spending most of him time researching than he did bonding with the crew. You guess that was how he got the title of surgeon.

"You're still in here?"

Law looked up towards you, his face neutral as usual, giving no rise into how he was feeling in that moment; his grey eyes swiftly taking you in. He sighed, that usual annoyed sigh, as if he wasn't in the mood to be disturbed tonight. Not by somebody who was drunk, anyway.

"How much have you had, Y/n?"

"I don't know" you admitted, tripping into the room. You hummed as you steadied yourself, laughing at your words before you even said them. "I'm not a mathematician"

"You're not a comedian either" Law admitted bluntly, sitting further upright. His chair swivelled around to face you as you stumbled to his desk, leaning on it for support as you reached him. Avoiding his gaze you looked blindly at the papers in his desk, blurred together to form some kind of foreign language. Although all medical words felt like that to you.

"You didn't answer my question"

His voice was softer this time, more understanding.

"I'm not sure" you shrugged, trying to give him a sober answer. Anything to get him to stop looking at you like that. Like he was disappointed. "I remember drinking when the sun was still up, and then Zoro handed me another bottle; which turned into a few more... I think there may have been some wine from Nami mixed in there too somewhere..."

"The swordsman..." he trailed off, "of course".

You met his face then, realising there was a hint of hurt as he spoke, not noticing the break before. It was only subtle, and maybe if the room wasn't so quiet you wouldn't have noticed. But it was there.

Noting you were looking at him, he focused his gaze, studying you for a moment. It was if there was something mutual, something warm and passionate, forcing you to truely look at one another; more than usual. His eyes were tired, as they usually were, but held an edge of desperation as if he was speaking to you. He wanted to have you closer.

Setting down the bottle on the desk slowly, you stepped towards him, letting his arm come out to guide you. His hand easily fell to your waist, cupping gently over the fabric of your shirt, holding you like glass. As you straddled up onto him, his other hand moved to cup under you, helping to secure you into his lap. Your arms looped loosely around his neck, holding you close as you took in his face; lit by the flickers of soft gold and orange from the fickle flames.

Law gently moved your hair from your neck, sweeping it back with the back of his hand. He continued to hold your gaze, locking you in a trance to let him control the room; his sober stance holding much more composure than your own.

Moving slowly, he tilted his head down to your neck, gently breathing against your skin. His breath was warm, inviting, your body subconsciously moving away to expose more of your skin for him. Needing this as much as he did.

Law's lips met against your skin, warm and slow, taking him time in leaving soft puckers over your neck. He moved over the same spots, leaving an invisible mark of lust, building up the courage to confess. There was a lump in his throat the burned when he saw you, wanting nothing more than to take you from everyone; knowing he needed you as much as your crew.

But it was different for him, built solely on his own selfish love for you. He didn't need you for your skill or your wit like your friends did. He didn't need you to help him become king of the pirates or to achieve his own dreams.

He needed you because he wanted you.

He wanted you by his side, to bask in your company, your safe and loving aura. He needed to have you, the greatest love he had ever known, to be with him and love him just as deeply as he did you.

"You're so beautiful, Y/n" Law mumbled, dragging his lips over your voice box. He shut his eyes, gulping nervously, carefully grasping at your clothes to ground himself. "You are easily the best part of this experience and I could wait my whole life for you to want to be with me; but I hope I don't have to"

"Say you'll be mine, forever"

A heavy silence filled the room, lost in what to say next. The mix of sake was taking its toll on you, weighing you down with the way Law spoke, making it seem almost impossible to speak back. But you had to say something. These words weren’t just a lost dream you slept upon, curling deeper into your bed to keep yourself here. These words were real.

"Drunk or sober?"

"Both" he smirked, pulling away to look at you again. "Definitely both"

"I guess I could get used to being called Mrs Trafalgar Law"

"Glad to hear it"

You wished to close the gap - you both did - filling the room with lewd and desperate sounds as you kissed one another. How you wished to finally taste each other, so lovingly, so private, losing your senses in a whirlwind of unforgivable madness. But you couldn’t; not like this. As tempting as his pout looked rested on that crocked smirk you couldn’t advance like this. Not while you were impaired.

"Ya know forever is a really long time, right?" You tilted your head to the side, curling your brow, hoping to change the subject.

"Yeah" he admitted, carefully pulling you closer. His arms held you against him, resting his head on your shoulder. A deep inhale crushed him to a saddened smile, taking in your scent, feeling different, more free with his emotions now.

The lump was no longer there, and even if you woke up tomorrow, sober and forgetful of this night, he would remember. He would remember your voice, how you smiled, how you laughed at your own stupid joke. He would know that even for tonight, you were his, and he would hang onto that for as long as he could.

"That was the point; to be with you for as long as I can be"

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tangyangie · 1 year

Note

I saw your post with Neito as brother and really like how you write! I wonder if you could do Karma x fem!reader headcanon where reader wants to have a large family (4 children or more)? How do you think he would react to this and how he would find himself as a husband and father in such a family?

» "how many?"

character: karma

description: you want kids. lots of them.

warnings: slightly suggestive at the end?? otherwise it's kinda sweet

style: headcanons and drabble

when karma first heard this, he was a little taken aback.

four?? kids??

but, after thinking about it for a while, i think he'd warm up to the idea.

a bunch of little mini menaces all annoying you.. yes, he could see it very clearly.

he's like their jungle gym, and the world is his. the kids climb all over him, and he would literally climb a volcano for them if need be.

but of course, he still will cater to your needs. you're craving something during your pregnancy? he's sprint to the grocery store to get it.

hell, he'd even try it with you, especially if it's something odd. (like pickles, cream cheese, and hot sauce)

but otherwise, he's going to be extremely careful. he makes sure that you're always comfortable and safe.

and of course, he'd teach them self defense at a young age. so don't be surprised when the elementary school calls to tell you that one of your kids fought somebody.

(the other kid is now forever scared of that child)

karma would totally pick them up from school with a smile on his face and take them out to eat ice cream.

he definitely buys everyone sunglasses and they all walk together and pretend to be spies.

in addition to climbing onto him, karma will hoist one of the kids up onto his shoulders. this has just become a natural thing.

karma is definitely scared at first, but the more times you are pregnant and have a kid, the more it becomes normal to him. he doesn't stress about it anymore.

all in all, i think he'd be pretty great as both a husband and a father.

here's a little bonus too:

you had never voiced your wish until now. you wanted quite a lot of kids... definitely, at least four.

you were telling your friends all about your desire to have a big family. you were giggling on the phone and imagining all the little babies, which resulted in you getting giddier by the second.

little did you know karma was listening in on this phone call of yours. he stood outside the door, honestly a little shocked, as you had never expressed your need for a family, let alone a larger one.

he thought for a moment. objectively, he didn't see much wrong with it. you want babies, so what? he couldn't lie and say they weren't adorable (when they weren't throwing up and pooping everywhere).

so, what was his hesitation?

he was worried how he would be as a father. as carefree as he seems, he knows how intense his personality can be. he doesn't want to scare his kid off as soon as they come out of you.

he is interrupted from his train of thought when he hears you bring your phone call to an end. he begins to walk away, thinking you hadn't noticed him.

"karma, i know you're there."

stopping in his tracks, he whirled around and made eye contact with you. perhaps he hadn't been as slick as he though he had.

sucking in his cheeks and taking a deep breath, he smiled at you.

"so... i heard you want kids."

you couldn't help but giggle at his forwardness. he walked over to your bed and sat down on the edge, turning his head to look at you.

he was always a good husband to you. maybe a little protective, but nothing too out of the ordinary. you crawled over to him and sprawled across his lap, leading him to gently pat your head.

"yes, that's true. i do want children."

"and how many, again, did you want?"

you hesitated a little bit, halfway to bursting out laughing.

"at least four."

he sighed and leaned back, pulling you into his chest.

"i'm.." he struggled to find the write way to say this. "i'm worried with how i would be a father. especially with four or more children."

"well, keep in mind it only starts with one." you reply, hoping to calm him, if only a little.

he smirked at your attempt at a joke, and rolled over to tackle you. he kissed you, and after a minute, slowly broke apart, and then smirked.

"well, we'd better get started then."

notes: aghagahhajdaka i'm so sorry this took such a long time

i did not expect my week to be so busy but it was and i'm really sorry 💔💔

but anyways tysm for the request!! mwah mwah to everyone and i hope you enjoyed!!

#karma #karma akabane #karma x reader #karma akabane x reader #karma taylor swift #midnights #assassination classroom #ass class #kids #screaming in the void #and the void screams back #big family #hee hee #fluff #you're beautiful and ilysm #drink some fucking water #reader fic

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 2 years

Text

The Agony of Desire

Part 11 // Masterlist

Warnings: 18+, Smut, fingering, p in v sex, mild choking, talks of pregnancy, canon typical themes, drugging, assault, guns.

A/N: Brace for impact...

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,

And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind."

- William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

It's kind of annoying that good things don't last. Who designed a world like that anyway? Where you could get a taste of something so perfect, so peaceful, and so explosive. The rekindling of a lost love, the burning passion of two years of agony, the desire to stay in a blissful paradise with the one person who ever made you feel... seen.

To have it ripped from your hands without a forethought, taken by the universe with five simple words.

We have to go back.

But you didn't want to. You wanted this, here, with him and the quiet moments in between careless laughter and the shared breath of lovers before a kiss. And you wanted to grip it tightly and tell the universe to fuck off because Billy Russo was yours and nobody would ever take him away from you again.

And he sees this all written on your face when he gets the words out.

"Hey, hey, hey," he says, finding his way to you as you look down, your throat tight beyond compare, your eyes watering as you try to pretend that you're fine. His hands on your shoulders, "We'll be okay," his voice interjects, "I'll keep you safe, it's just that Kingpin needs something more from me, and then we're done. We'll be back here- or free to be in New York together- wherever you want- it's just one more thing and it'll all be over." He rambles into your ear, and you wrap your arms around him, holding him to you.

You take a deep breath, listening to his heart race in his chest.

"I don't want to lose you. I only just got you back." You sniffle.

"Oh baby," he kisses the top of your head gently, "You're not losing me. Not that easily. You told me no several times and I still kidnapped you anyway."

That makes you laugh, which makes him laugh.

"When you say it like that, it makes you sound like a villain." You say in between breaths.

"I am a villain. I'm a really bad man." He confirms with a nod and you shake your head in disbelief.

Your stomach picks that moment to make a loud gurgling sound and your mouth drops open.

"Oh my god did you hear that-?"

"-I know right, what the fuck is living inside of you?" He says with mock horror in his face and you laugh, pulling him back into a hug that he returns easily.

You sway for a moment, before pulling back.

"Come, let's talk strategy over dinner." You say decidedly, pulling him toward the kitchen.

You're staring at his sleeping form, from your seat opposite him.

He always looks so young when he sleeps, appearing so innocent about the ways of the world, and you acknowledge that it must be his eyes that give him his age. The look in them, the weariness, the distrust, the way you can see him analysing things as they happen. It's what makes him look close to the age he always claims to be. Now though, he could pass for at least a decade younger. Billy's got eyes that have seen so much, and you just wished for one moment you could ease his burdens.

He'd explained to you last night, that some of the money hadn't gone through, that Fisk was demanding the remaining twenty million and would restart his pursuit of your family if he was not compensated. It was one thing to be hunted by the Meachums, but you would most likely never survive if they managed to put their differences aside long enough to pursue you.

It made you nervous. To be going back into the lion's den no matter how reassuring Billy was, that everything would be okay.

How could he know something like that? How was he so sure, that the minute you two landed in New York, that both groups wouldn't descend on you both and take it all away? Take what you'd just been given...

You unbuckle your seatbelt, standing, and smoothing out your black dress for a moment. Billy peeks an eye open sleepily, looking up at you as you take the few steps to him.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his voice laced with heavy sleep, undoing his seatbelt and opening his arms for you to climb into his lap. You accept the invitation, straddling his body easily, burying your head in his chest, listening for a quiet moment to his heart, feeling fear and anxiety rise in your throat, and letting the soft scent of him calm you.

"I'm okay." You say after a little bit, "Just scared."

His arms encircle you, a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

"It's easy, in and out, nothing to be afraid of."

He'd said the same thing last night, but fear, held no care for rationality. Fear's only job, was to remind you of everything you could lose.

You grip his sweater, taking a deep breath, contemplating whether to tell him what you'd almost spilled yesterday- that you loved him, beyond words, beyond reason, maybe even beyond fear.

And yet, you still couldn't figure out if you could forgive him for the last two years.

It was... strange.

To love someone so deeply and still be burdened by the weight of their actions.

Maybe that was love. Imperfect, flawed, cracked, but so blissfully warm at the same time.

The Japanese art form, Kintsugi comes to mind next, and you wonder if that was something possible for you and Billy. An object, made more beautiful after being broken.

It's what lulls you to sleep.

The comfort of broken things, and the hopes that you have the chance to put them back together.

You wake a little later when the plane shakes, you stiffen in fright and his hand is immediately on the back of your head.

"Just turbulence baby, you're okay." He soothes.

You make a little hum, crawling off his lap to give a big stretch.

He watches you carefully, and you turn to look at him in question.

"What are you doing?" You ask, wondering why he's just staring at you.

"Nothing, just... remembering." He says, giving you a sly smile.

"Creep." You say, with mock malice in your tone.

"Careful," he warns, "You'll get me hard if you keep talking like that."

You almost choke on your spit with the speed you inhale at. Holy fuck what gave him the right?

You grin when a comeback flies right into your head.

"I bet it doesn't take much to get you hard, Russo." You tease, reaching under your dress to tug your panties down your legs. You watch the muscle in his jaw pop as he clenches his teeth together, never breaking eye contact with you as you free your panties and ball them into your fist.

"I bet it just takes the right move at the right time and that big cock is all swollen and leaky, hmm?" You tease, tossing your panties at him. The soft material hits his chest.

He doesn't say a word, looking at you with amusement as you silently dare him to say something.

He takes a deep breath, tilting his head to study you a little, before he extends a hand to give two swift pats to this thigh.

Holy shit that did not just make you tingle.

"Do you want something, Russo?" You ask evenly, and his smile deepens.

Shit. He had that quiet dominance about him that made you want to get on your knees and have him fist your hair in his large hand-

Christ almighty, where did your feminism go?

"Come here." He says casually, looking away from you for a moment, as if the clouds could ever be as interesting as the little brat of a girlfriend he had, one that he knew craved a firm hand.

"Bite me." You quip.

"If I have to get up from here," He warns "You're not getting to come."

You lick your lips.

"You're bluffing. You like me too much."

When he stands, your entire body gives you a warning that you were now in danger of being punished.

"I do like you," he acknowledges, "but that's not going to stop me from teaching that bratty cunt some manners."

Oh boy.

You take a step back as he begins to approach you, adrenaline spiking in your system, but in this private jet, there really was nowhere to go.

"Lesson number one, when I say 'come here,' do you know what I expect you to do?"

You keep backing away, knowing that your space to evade him is getting smaller and smaller.

"Do I look like I give a shit?" You ask, looking back to see how much space you have left.

It's all the distraction he needs to grab you. You gasp as he pins your lower half against a seat, you wriggle your body, but can't seem to get any leverage to push him away.

"I expect you, to bring that needy little cunt to me." He says lowly, as if you haven't spoken.

"Who said I was needy?" You gasp out, between small grunts as you struggle to get away from him.

His warm hand is sliding between your thighs in the next second.

"Oh please," he says, doubling down on you, using his body to stop any hint of struggle, "We both know how hot and wet this cunt gets for me."

Your mouth drops open when his middle finger slides over your clit. You bite down on your bottom lip, going still.

"There she is," he hums in appreciation, "Just ready for me, hmm?" His finger circles your clit slowly, you feel your thighs relax involuntarily, opening up for him to take what he wants. Your head is turned to the side, avoiding his stern, but deliciously warm gaze to listen to his sultry voice.

"Say my name, baby. Tell me whose cunt this is."

You can't deny him here. Not when you're in the air flying back to your ex-fiance, you wouldn't give him any doubts about this.

"Yours, Billy." You say so softly, still avoiding his gaze.

You're rewarded with firmer circles to your clit. You hiss, tilting your head up to expose your neck to him reflexively.

You were made to be taken. And he was made to take.

"The things I want to do to you, baby, the ways I want to ruin you would probably get me arrested in some countries."

Your mind fills with all the terrible possibilities. A small moan slips from your mouth.

"You want that too, don't you? You want to give me what I want?"

You nod your head, sighing as his finger on your clit pauses for a moment, only to push into you a second later.

You gasp as his thick finger breaches your entrance, filling you and pressing right against your g-spot. You go rigid, gasping as the pleasure builds inside you, teetering on an edge that doesn't come because he then holds his hand still.

You let out a low whine and he chuckles in response, your noses bumping affectionately as if he isn't a finger deep inside you.

He makes a small movement, something of a 'come-hither' with his finger, that creates a tapping motion on that spot inside you.

Pleasure blooms from your cunt all the way up your spine, exploding in your brain, before his finger stops moving.

Your eyebrows are scrunched together, mouth parted as he torments that sweet spot deep inside you.

"Why?" He asks, as if you can remember what was being said.

"What?" You question, out of breath, as he makes a few pumps of his finger into you. You gasp, tightening your walls around his finger in a silent plea not to stop.

"Why do you want to give me what I want?"

You shiver as his thumb begins slow circles into your clit, your knees wobble.

"Because..." you trail off.

"Because?"

He stops all movement and your frustration peaks.

"Because I'm yours." You say under your breath, finally looking into his dark eyes.

Is that what he wanted to hear?

His mouth stretches into a predatory smile.

Suddenly, his finger withdraws from you. You gasp, desperate to keep him close, but your hands are unable to grab him before he's pulling away from you.

"Good. Don't forget it." He says, his back is to you as he heads back to his seat.

Oh this asshole...

The fasten seatbelt sign pings on and you huff in frustration.

You make your way back to your seat angrily, sitting down and fastening your seat belt, glaring at him the whole time.

He sits too, fastens his seatbelt, but not before giving you a good show of sucking your arousal off his finger.

Which only throws you back into the memories of his tongue, and how much he genuinely loves tasting you.

You couldn't even fathom how that was possible. How his head between your thighs, his tongue working you over could give him so much pleasure, when Ward before wouldn't even-

You suck in a breath, heart squeezing as you look at him. Really look at him.

He looks at you too, from his spot opposite, and you're not even touching, but you've never felt this connected to him. It feels like he's in your head, like you're in his, like you know everything he feels from one look at him.

Billy Russo is a part of you now, he's in your bones, running deep in your veins, and he always will be.

And from the burning look in his eyes, he feels the same way about you.

Your face is pressed to the bed, a little bit of drool slipping past the edge of your lips and soaking into the soft sheets as he ruts into you from behind.

There's a couple of pillows under your hips, propping your boneless body up, presenting your body for his railing.

Your eyes roll back in your head, an unintelligent sound floating past your lips and you hear him chuckle above you between forceful thrusts.

"Do you like that, baby? Does it feel good?" He asks, and you can only make another dumb sound in response.

'Feel good' was an understatement. It was more than that. If your pleasure was the big bang, he was at its center. He was the source, the fuel, the reason. All emphasised by each rough motion of his cock.

"So perfect for me, baby. So fucking perfect." He gasps, his brain short-circuiting with the abundance of pleasure.

You clench fistfuls of the sheets between your fingers, your pussy tightening around his cock, warning him that you're going to come. He grunts, hips slapping against yours loudly, his hands smoothing over your skin, scraping at the curve of your back and ass with his blunt nails.

Open and pliant below him, you whine as you're brought right to the edge.

"Gonna come so hard, hope you taste it." He grunts out, and you let out another whine, so close... so close...

But he pulls out of you at the very last second and you whine in distress. He flips you over forcefully, the pillows still haphazardly beneath you, raising your hips so that he can reenter you easily.

You gasp his name, pulling the wild strands of your hair away from your face. His hands are firm on your hips, squeezing so tightly, you think it may bruise.

"All mine. Isn't that right?" He asks.

"Mmhmmm." Is all the noise you can make.

"Only me?"

"Yes Sir." You murmur.

He pushes one of your legs up, you gasp as you feel him go deeper, a droplet of sweat trickles from his forehead, down his nose and lands on your hip. You've been going at this for a while, and you know you're going to be so sore tomorrow.

Your back arches, you were on edge again. Shallow breaths and desperate sighs and the gasp of his name and the clenching of your core and he stops again and you swear you're going to murder him.

"Stop. Fucking. Edging. Me." You gasp out angrily between breaths, and you hiss when his hand wraps around your throat tightly.

"Lose the fucking attitude, baby. You're mine and I can do what I want." He grits out.

He pulls the pillows from below you, so that you're flat on the bed, it makes a good position to cover the entirety of your body with his and then he's back inside you again.

Your ankles lock behind him as he delivers swift thrusts, one hand cups the back of your neck to pull your mouth to his.

You bury your fingernails into his back and he groans into your mouth. You want to leave evidence on his skin that you were here, below him, taking his cock inside you.

He breaks the sloppy kiss to catch a breath, but you barely let him, before you're pulling his mouth back to yours in a heated frenzy.

There it is again. You whine as you get close, your body tightening around his, begging him not to stop.

He takes the message this time, speeding up. Your teeth sink into his bottom lip, your nails grip and scratch along his skin. His cock fucking you open faster and faster until an explosion goes off in your head.

Your scream is silent. Voice too gone to make an actual sound, your body squeezes down on his cock firmly.

He grunts at the feeling, your cunt fluttering around his cock so blissfully he has to squeeze his eyes shut to stop himself from exploding.

It doesn't work, because in the next second you adjust your head to bite down on his shoulder- and the explosion goes off inside him any way.

He fills you right up, all the way to the brim- you can both feel it. The way his spend slips out of your pussy while he's still deep inside you. Billy knows it's the hardest he's ever cum in a while.

And it's all for you.

You both pant, your skin uncomfortably hot, but unwilling to detatch your body from his. His nose brushes yours, the shared breath between you is hot as well, sweltering and likely to become uncomfortable soon.

'I love you,' you say with your eyes, and he smiles, kissing the tip of your nose in a gesture that lets you know that he loves you too.

Finally, he slips out of you, and you get your first breath of Billy-less air, and you sigh when you feel his come begin to dribble out.

You blink suddenly, realising that it's been a week since you took your last pill. You let out a shuddering breath, remembering that the last few days have just been you, being filled with his come over and over again.

"You okay?" He asks, noticing that you've been holding your breath for a little.

Your eyes flit to his concerned ones.

"Yeah...I'm okay." You answer quickly, pretending that you're not in a state of panic. Damn, when was your last period? What if you were-

"Want a bath?" He offers, and you turn to look at him. He links your fingers into his large ones, pulling them to his face to kiss the tips.

Would it be so bad?

"Yes please," you say softly, "A bath would be amazing."

He's careful. Like he always is, gentle to your body after thoroughly sating it. You lean against him, head tilted back on his chest, half asleep in the warm bath. The water makes gentle swiping sounds as he moves, raising his hand to gently trickle warm water over your neck and collabones.

"Billy," you whisper, the thoughts in your head going too wild for you to keep it in, he hums in question.

"We've never spoken about it... but... do you ever want kids?"

He pauses for a long moment. You squeeze your eyes shut, the silence is honey thick and you struggle to breathe while waiting for the answer.

"I've... never thought I could have something like that." He lets out a little laugh, "Hell, I'm probably the last person on earth that deserves that kind of life, and I definitely shouldn't be in charge of a kid, with a head as fucked as mine."

You listen intently, relating to his fears as best as possible.

"I'm not gonna tell you what you are, and what you aren't." You say, turning your head to speak against his neck, "But I know you're a fast learner, and if you wanted something, I don't see why you wouldn't be able to learn." You smile, kissing his neck, "As for deserving, there are worse people out there with families of their own. Don't judge yourself too harshly."

He makes a low hum, one that implies that he doesn't believe you, but he's not dismissing your words either.

"What about you? Do you want kids?" He asks, lips brushing your temple.

Another long moment as you think about your answer.

"It's....scary... not a simple yes or no, I'm terrified of both- having and not having." You reach to link your fingers into his, he squeezes tightly for a moment, "But it's just a little less scary with you."

The corner of his lip rises.

"I can confess one thing though," he murmurs lightly, dropping his hands to grip your hips, you gasp as his fingers press into your sore spots,

"The idea of getting you pregnant, makes me so fucking happy, I just want to fill you up all day long."

You laugh.

"You're insatiable." You comment, with a shake of your head.

"You have me this way, baby." He replies easily.

When you're almost asleep, face pressed into his chest, legs tangled together, he repeats the plan to you.

He's not going to be here when you wake, getting an early start on gathering the money he needs and assessing the meeting point for possible traps. There's a security team monitoring the hotel, so you'll be safe as long as you don't leave unnecessarily. Later tomorrow evening, he'll meet Fisk, and hand off the remaining money and he'll be back before you know it.

He kisses the top of your head and in your sleepy state, you hum something that sounds very similar to 'I love you.'

It makes Billy's heart skip a beat.

When you wake at around midday, he's gone as expected.

You stay in the hotel room all day, watching TV and catching up on random news, finding out what you'd missed in the little time you'd been gone.

Around six in the evening, the phone in the room rings, and you click the TV off before reaching for the receiver.

"Hello?" You answer, your heart pounding, unsure of who it might me.

It's the receptionist at the front desk who greets you on the other end.

"There's a Mr. Meachum here, requesting to speak with you." She says casually, as if you don't go rigid.

"Which Meachum?" You ask cautiously.

Ward, she tells you. Ward has found you and is waiting downstairs to speak to you.

Your heart hurts a little, remembering that the last time you were supposed to see him, you left him at the altar instead.

"Can you tell him to wait for me in the restaurant? I'll be down in ten."

She relays the message to him and confirms his acceptance to you.

You hang up, your stomach twisting into knots, the anxiety of facing him again is so strong, the worry of how you've hurt him is visceral, it makes you want to hide.

But you knew you had to face him, you knew that you had to go down there and look him in the eye and apologise for the embarrassment you caused him.

So you stand from the bed, determined to make it up to him in some way.

The elevator opens up to the restaurant on the top floor, a beautiful modern design with large windows to see the sun setting on the city.

Your heart pounds, smiling at the waitress and giving her your information.

You spot Ward, sitting alone at a table for two, sipping on a drink.

He stands when he sees you approaching.

He takes you into a hug when you get close enough, and you allow it, though it's not your favourite feeling.

"I'm so glad to see you're okay." He says, as his arms tighten around you, and you smile.

"I'm glad you're okay too."

You smile at him when you pull away.

"I hope it's alright that I ordered a drink for you," he says, pointing at the fruity drink on your side of the table.

You not at him in appreciation, sliding into your seat, and taking a small sip of the concoction. It's something slightly sour, and you appreciate the flavours.

He takes his seat as well.

There's a moment of silence.

"When you didn't-"

"I'm so sorry that I-"

A pause, filled with shared smiles.

He nods his head, silently indicating for you to speak first.

"I really meant to show up. It- It wasn't my intention to leave you there. I'm sorry if I hurt you in anyway, or made you look... bad, but, in the end, marrying you- it- well- I-" You give him a sad smile, trying to find the words, "I realised it wasn't something that I wanted. I'm sorry for that."

His face is stoic, all harsh lines and even breaths. He nods, sweeping a hand through his hair.

"When you didn't show up at the church, I knew something went wrong. But I was hoping, that it was just jitters, I waited there for hours. And then I found out that you'd disappeared. I spent the last week combing the world for you, hoping you didn't leave me there without a word."

You take another long sip of your drink before speaking.

"I- well- Billy paid my debt and got me out. But it's a good thing too, because- Harold- he tried to have my parents killed."

"That's not true." Ward immediately says, and you look up into his eyes.

You can see it now, something around the edges, something about his appearance is... off. He isn't as put together as he'd like to seem, and you feel like he's a spool about to be unravelled.

Too bad you didn't owe him a single thing.

"I trust Billy with my life." You say firmly, "He told me that Harold tried to kill my parents. They would have died if Billy hadn't gotten them out."

He grips the edges of the table, leaning closer.

"And you believe him? My father was about to pay off your family's entire debt- and you believe some low-level scum like Billy Russo?"

"Ward." You say his name in warning, letting him know you don't appreciate his words or his tone.

He blinks, catching himself, realising that his words have rubbed you the wrong way.

"I'm sorry," he breathes, "But, Russo has always had his own interests first. He lied to you, he told you he paid off the debt, and he didn't, he told you that my father tried to harm your family, and that was a lie too."

You bite down on the corner of your lip, deep in thought.

"What does he have to gain from lying?" You ask Ward quietly, afraid of the answer. You lean back, taking another casual sip as if his words will have no effect on you.

"You might not realise it, but your family name has a lot of weight. Even though it's been dragged through the mud in the last couple of years, a combination of our families opens a lot of doors."

You swallow.

"A combination of our families? By that, you mean that fancy clause in our contract to have me pregnant within the year?"

He blinks, "Y/N-"

"-No." You say, "No, I'm sorry Ward, but I think I've heard enough." Your drink hits the table with a quiet sound, "Billy might not be honest with me, but at least I know he wants me for me, and not for whoever's last name I'm carrying." You stand from your seat and he stands too.

"I'm sorry, please, wait." He says, taking a step, reaching for you slowly, but you dodge his hold, walking away from him with a muttered 'Goodbye.'

He doesn't follow.

The emotions are a mess in your head and it sticks in your throat, there's a permanent frown on your face as tears spring to your eyes.

You don't understand why, though. You wish someone would take your brain out, map it, and show you exactly why you felt like crying your eyes out.

Maybe they'd circle a spot, "This is where your trust issues come from," point to another spot while saying, "Your low self worth comes from your body image issues, only reinforced by the fact that your family almost sold you to make babies and look pretty for the rest of your life."

You press your face into your hands, letting out a muffled sob.

You no longer knew what to believe, who to trust but at least you were sure of one thing.

Regardless of his motives, regardless of any lie he's told you, Billy loved you. And he would go to the ends of the earth to keep you safe.

You couldn't wait for him to come back to you, so that maybe you could forgive him for the lies he's told, and admonish him for the lies he would tell in the future.

You smile, shaking your head. No, you couldn't settle for being lied to, no matter how strongly you felt for him.

You begin to feel a little sleepy as the elevator doors open, yawning as you begin to make your way to your room. Your vision swims for a second and you frown, wondering why you feel so tired all of a sudden.

Were you drugged?

You sway, the panic setting in, and your first priority is making it back to your room.

You're at your door when someone calls your name. You look up in surprise, hoping that it's Billy- but it's not- it's Ward, making purposeful strides toward you.

"Ward?" You say confused, squinting at him as your body sags against the door.

He grips your shoulders forcefully, and you try to push at him.

"I think I've been drugged." You murmur, looking into his face, pleading for his help.

"You have." He says ominously and you whimper, realising that it's been him all along.

"Why?" You ask, your knees buckling as your body is forced to relax against your will. You feel so sleepy, you fight to keep your eyes open, pushing at him. Why won't he budge? Your fingers reach up to claw at his cheeks but your hands won't cooperate.

"Why?" He says, and you think he finally shows you his unravelling.

"Because I was promised a wife. And I will have one."

It's the last thing you hear before your vision goes dark.

His footsteps echo in the church as he steps in. There are candelabras scattered around the area, he counts them as he counts the pews. He also counts the number of people that are sitting with their heads bowed, praying, and the number of exits.

He sees the back of the marine's head, walking with purposeful steps to him. The marine doesn't look up, doesn't acknowledge his presence, doesn't move as he slides into the seat beside him.

He's sure that the marine has counted the same things he has, made a similar assessment of the safety of the surroundings, maybe even knows the approximate number of steps it would take to get to the back exit if the situation requires it.

"Mister Fisk appreciates your cooperation, and sends his regards for not being here in person." He says.

Billy Russo turns to give him a blank stare.

"I suppose everything can't go the way I want," he says.

James Wesley smiles.

"I suppose not." He responds.

You wake with a groan, your head is swimming, packed with cotton, preventing you from forming a thought.

Where? What? How?

You can't find any answers.

Another deep breath and you open your eyes a little.

Your vision is blurry at first, but you recognise the surroundings of a hotel room, just not your hotel room.

You're lying on the bed, pressed against someone who is petting your hair softly.

You sit up suddenly in shock, swaying as you turn to look at the person. Something else draws your attention at the same time, and you look down to find that your hands have been cuffed together. You tug at them experimentally.

"Just in time," Ward says, sitting up, and you squint at him, trying to figure out exactly where everything went south.

"You drugged me." You say to him accusingly.

"Yes. I did." He acknowledges, sitting up easily.

He's changed into something different, a dark tuxedo with a black bow tie around his neck.

"Do you like it?" He asks, looking down at the suit, "It's the exact same one I was wearing the first time. I tried to get you the same dress, but I got something that was easier for you to get into by yourself.

He stands, and you just look at him, eyes following his movements as he grabs a garment bag lying over the small couch. He unzips the bag, tugging a wedding dress free.

You can't focus on any of the details of the dress- not the beading or the neckline, in your hazy state none of it makes sense to you.

"Put it on." Ward says.

"No." You answer.

"I'm not asking." He tosses the dress beside you on the bed.

"I'm still not putting that on." You struggle to say something witty with such a cloudy head.

He takes a step forward, and you scramble back, slipping off the bed and backing away from him on shaky feet. When you try to get to the door, he intercepts your move- pressing you back against the wall.

"I don't have time for this." He says angrily and you seethe along with him.

"Fuck you." You spit at him.

The slap is sudden. You barely register the sound of it, your head is turned to the side, as your cheek screams in pain.

Did he really just hit you?

"I can't believe I ever defended you." You whisper, unable to meet his eyes.

"Karen once suggested you might hurt me, and I told her you weren't like that."

You raise your hand to touch your stinging cheek, it's tender and hot to the touch.

"You'd be mad too, if you were left at the altar to be laughed at by the entire city."

You swallow, looking up at him, fully awake now with the pain and adrenaline coursing through your system.

"You're delusional." You whisper with conviction.

"And you're not getting it. If you don't put that dress on, then I have no use for you." He leans forward, getting into your space and you grimace with disgust at the feel of his body pressed to yours.

"Do you know what I do with useless things, Y/N? I throw them away."

You wish for his death when your eyes meet his next. He smiles, raising a hand to cup your face, his fingers pressing painfully into the spot where he hit you. You don't make a sound, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of your pain.

"Get dressed." He says, stepping away from you finally.

James Wesley is appraising the contents of the briefcase for authenticity when the church doors open, and several footsteps can be heard.

Billy doesn't look back, he'd anticipated a move like this. And honestly, it might be exactly what he needs to get his plan back into action.

Harold Meachum steps into his peripherals. James closes the briefcase, looking up at said man, knowing James, there's only vague curiosity painted on his features.

"Sorry to interrupt your business, boys, but I have business of my own I'd like to take care of."

Billy is just, downright tired of looking at Harold's face, bored with this man's entire endeavour into making himself more powerful when he can hardly manage the power he currently holds.

"James, would you please call Mr. Fisk and tell him that is audience is requested?"

James doesn't hesitate.

"My apologies, Harold, but Mr. Fisk does not deal-" he pauses his sentence when Harold draws a gun, pointing it at James' head.

There's a moment of tense silence.

"Very well." Wesley says, pulling his cellphone out of his pocket.

Billy listens to half of the conversation, unable to hear any of Fisk's responses. James lets him know that an urgent matter has arisen that requires his presence, and that Harold Meachum will not accept no for an answer.

When James ends the call, he informs that Wilson will be here within the hour.

"Excellent!" Harold says, reaching to take the briefcase seated on James' lap, "That's just enough time to have a wedding in the meantime."

Billy's stomach drops.

It drops even lower when he sees the younger Meachum, Ward, step up to the altar.

"Now, if either of you move from here, the man sitting behind you is going to shoot you in the head."

Billy turns to look at the man. One of Meachum's bodyguards sitting in the pew behind, he's large, maybe even larger than Frank, which means he's probably slower. A mistake on Harold's part to have this man guard him. The other five or six people that were here before are being shuffled into the other room.

He watches a priest, step up slowly to the altar, he raises his hands, and then the doors at the back open with a slow groan.

Billy almost doesn't want to look. He knows what he's going to see. It fills him with murderous rage. He watches Ward's smug face instead, a man that looks like he's already won, as an unwilling bride walks down the aisle toward him.

He knows when he sees you there, the shock, and rage and fear of it all with sear like lightning down his skin.

Billy waits until the very last moment to turn and look at you.

He can't see much of your face, covered by the thick veil, but he can see the tremble of your hands as you hold the bouquet and Billy decides, that he's going to wipe the Meachum line off the face of the earth.

A/N: Heeyyyyyy guyssssssss, how are we doing?

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the agony of desire #ben barnes #my writings #billy russo x female reader #the punisher

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ammwriting · 1 year

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Bad Habits

Part 2

Angel x Jupes Assistant!Reader

A/N: I appreciate sooooo much all the notes and good vibes I got on Part 1 of this, I'll admit this started as brainrot at first but now it's become a genuine passion project. I've been going through a lot of work stress and trying to leave my current agency so I appreciate (if any) the waiting for this part. I love all of y'all we're in this together. But this is shorter definitely than the last part I cannot lie.

Angel.

His name was Angel. There must've been some sort of irony in that right? The worst day of my life, probably the Haywoods, and his life...but I met Angel.

After he took a face first dive into my stomach OJ drove us into the city to go to Angels apartment. I wasn't about to argue since I was just glad to not be by myself at my own place, and the fact I was included at all was pretty polite of them. What I wasn't I wasn't expecting was the studio apartment in the middle of the city with one twin bed, a bitcoin station, and 5x3 home PC set up with VR included.

Again, at this point I was willing to do anything for the company of other people, so I didn't say shit. I just walked in after the Haywoods and laid on Angels bed and put my face in his pillow. Presumptuous? Yeah. But I did just watch my boss and his family get eaten by a flying saucer that wasn't a ship or "Viewers" at all and was in fact an alien the whole time so I was ready to fight for my right to be sad.

"That's my - ok that's fine you can lay there -"

"I'm gonna beat the shit out of you if you talk to me for the next 24 hours."

He didn't say anything, but I could feel him look at the siblings for help. All he got was a;

"It's been a long night for all of us" from OJ and no one else said anything until Angel offered his second VR headset to Emerald (I was eavesdropping).

I laid there for the rest of the night until Angel brought out one of his blunts, and I abruptly threw myself off his bed, back onto my feet, before stumbling over to him with one of his VR headsets on. I noticed Em off in the corner with another one on (one of the ones he offered earlier I assumed).

I wobbled onto my knees and started patting him on the legs so I didn't freak him out, before gently reaching out and grabbing his hand holding the blunt, and taking it from his fingers. He lifted the headset and made eye contact with me before actually letting it go.

I hadn't given myself any time to actually take him in before, but now that I was looking at him...he was cute. Like really cute. I don't know how I missed it before but wow...I feel dumb. He was looking at me like he hadn't taken me in until now either. We didn't say anything as I took a hit, but we held eye contact the whole time until I reached the blunt up back to his own lips and he took his own hit. It was oddly intimate for the situation we were in, but it felt good to be close with someone. Intimate.

I left the blunt between his lips before I went back to his bed but laid down on my side this time so we were still making eye contact. He was using that stupid fucking headset for another hour I think before he got up and walked over.

"...Am I just sleeping on my own floor or are you gonna move?"

I wish I made that up. He was being so serious it was embarrassing.

"Well I'm not moving, but luckily for you, this twin bed is big enough for the both of us. What kind of grown man has a twin bed anyway?"

I was grumbling to myself at that point though because he was sliding next to me facing the opposite way without saying anything. I rolled my eyes after he never responded and sat up to see if either of the siblings were seeing the bullshit I was seeing. Only OJ was still up and shrugged at me when I motioned to Angel and gave the universal "Wtf?" face. Oh Well. I guess?

At some point in the night I was annoyed because Angel kept moving back and forth and...whimpering? Groaning? I'm not sure but he was making some sort of really sad noise in his sleep and I definitely made sure he was still asleep. I got tired of it finally and rolled over and grabbed him around the middle so he'd stop moving, crying, groaning, whatever he was doing. It worked thankfully, and he stopped making noise. Unfortunately for me though I noticed he was fucking ripped, and I just had to do nothing with that information. I thought he worked for Fry's? What kind of Fry's Electronics employee was built like this?

As opposed to how I felt though it did feel good to have someone to ground myself since up until this point I wasn't able to sleep myself. Every time I closed my eyes all I heard was screams. Those people that Amber had worked so hard to get passes for, Ms. Mary Jo Elliot, my fellow staff members...I should've been there but I had some last minute filing to do. I was that close to being one of them...one of those screams. From the sound of it they weren't even put out of their misery right away. That night when that creature went back to the Haywood Ranch was when they'd been...consumed. It made me nauseous just to think about it, so sleep was not coming easy.

But while I was holding Angel things seemed to stop in my head. The what if's, what happened, what was to come. Everything just paused for a moment and I would hold him forever if it meant it would stay like that.

The next day things went pretty much the same way they did the day before except we had to borrow some of Angels clothes. I borrowed a shower as well hoping I'd feel better. I didn't but an attempt was made and that's what mattered. It wasn't until that night after going to some chain fish place with the other's. It looked like me and OJ were the only ones not too interested in eating though, when we were leaving and Em got a phone call from a Photographer or Film expert they'd worked with before. Calling us back. One last round.

#angel torres x reader #nope movie #nope 2022 #angel torres #em haywood #oj haywood

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shaunsummers · 11 months

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Tek's Birthday!

The tone seemed a bit off from what she knew from Beatrix so far and when her head turns with a brow lighty cricked in suspicion, Siren is met with a teasing sneer. That observant bitch. "Yeah, well, I don't mind playing doctor." Her eyes turn away as she represses a guilty smile, she was too high for this shit, and goes for the wipes on the end table to clean her hands of the strong scent of menthol. Seeing as though Devin had been patched up and heavily medicated, she should start to feel some relief. The morning after was bound to be hell, however, and, on second thought, a t-shirt may be a little difficult for her to get into. A tank top would be better. So, she travels to the closet to retrieve just that, handing it over to her in exchange for the bottle of vodka after Devin takes a hearty swig.

Seeing the tank placed into her hand, Devin felt a sense of relief. Any pressure against or movement of her shoulders just seemed like a bad time. "Oh yeah?" Still, even in the strain through her voice as she places herself into the top, Devin couldn't help but to tease. "Where did you get your experience? Ho academy?" But to her dismay, she is swiftly met by the threat of Siren's mighty flick with her curled middle finger and thumb hovering just over her nose. Her heart drops. "Please, don't."

"You must be allergic to the phrase 'thank you'." Siren's death stare softens a bit as she lowers her hand. Like Devin ever said 'please'. That royal ass kicking from Beatrix was doing quite the number. Then as her eyes were stilled locked with Devin's, Siren enjoys her share of the bottle before passing it to Quinn with a light smile, "Your go."

"Uhhhhhhhhh." Rebel's cognitive processing nearly fails in the proposal as many things were working against the brain cogs turning without falling off the hinges. The garlic bread, the many ingested doobies, a few shots, and the simple fact that her feelings for Tek never actually went away created a cocktail that was difficult to know what to do with. She knew what she wanted and it showed as Rebel glanced down at her lips in hard pressed debate. But, a simple fact remained, they had never talked about it. What happened, it wasn't good nor something that she wished to repeat; and definitely not something she was proud of how she handled. If it was back then, Rebel would have taken the leap no problem. But now? She yearned for more than to steal a quick kiss. She wanted clear communication. "Yo, dude, we should probably talk..."

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

"I'm sure you do." Beatrix mutters in humor, barely audible. But watching things play out in front of her, she can't help but laugh. Devin had, against all odds, been so swiftly humbled. She'd never seen that before.

Quinn takes the bottle from her with slight eyes of judgement, taking a swig. "C'mon, you guys need to quit being so goddamn mean. Devin's gotten enough shit for a night." Sure, sometimes she talked out of her ass, but she was just talking out of her ass. Plus Devin got the fuckin' torture rack on her arms, they could cut her a break.

"What? I'm just sitting here, and I brought free booze." Beatrix arches an eyebrow at the continuation of Quinn's diatribe. What was her problem?

"Just...fuckin' be nice. Both of you." Quinn cuts a look between them before passing the bottle along, letting it drop again with mild frustration. Devin had been dogged on a lot tonight, and it was starting to annoy her. She'd been going through a lot lately, it had rarely stopped for her, really, so fuck. Let the girl have a decent fuckin' time.

...Oh shit. Despite how nervous she already was, it skyrockets with Rebel's words. Never had that particular string of them ever ended well, and she hadn't expected all the lightness and silliness to get sapped away so quickly. The fear that she had overstepped gripped Tek first, and she was suddenly all too aware of every time they hadn't talked when they probably should've, and the horrible time when they had and it only imploded everything.

Tek nods in response, silence blanketing her lips under the chaotic whirling in her mind. She didn't know if it was real or just some reactionary thing that was driving the abrupt worry of losing her again. It had taken so much time for them to be okay. "Did I just...mess up?..." She asks, loosing a measured breath in attempt to calm herself. Her fingers pensively trail down the outside of Rebel's arm, still cognizant of the mutual desire hovering steadily between them—Tek couldn't miss it with her lingering so close—but it was hard not to be so unsure, even after all this time.

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weakforarwen · 2 years

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The Once and Future Queen is an endlessly rewatchable episode, isn't it? It's weird how immature Arthur was in the beginning. He never stops being a brat, but his manners improve, at least. Poor Gwen had to put up with an entitled Prince staying in her home. One minute he was proving he had depth, telling Gwen the reason he was competing in the tournament anonymously was that he wanted to know he had won on his own merit, and, the next, he was having Gwen fetch him clean water in the middle of the night. Gwen was touched by his sincerity, and then annoyed; so annoyed, in fact, that the next day at the tournament, she was still angry at Arthur.

Arthur's not-so-secret masochism kink will forever be funny to me. He was taken aback by Gwen's whole rant against him, but he was never actually mad at her; he pretended to be while encouraging her to keep going. Like, for real, he wasn't exactly happy to hear he was entitled and arrogant, but he wasn't ashamed or angry. He genuinely valued Gwen's opinion and was happy that someone was showing him complete honesty for once. He was so pleased by her words he even offered to cook her dinner for the first and last time in his life.

Merlin: You're trying to impress her? Arthur: Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. And get me a decent shirt, will you? Your clothes are making me itch all over, it's like having fleas.

The biggest plot hole in this episode is how long it took Gwen to notice Arthur hadn't cooked for her. I mean, first of all, her kitchen was clean, second of all, she was missing no ingredients, third of all, Arthur can't cook and the food was "delicious", forth of all, didn't she know what her own plates looked like? Did she just wait until the end of the meal to call him out on it? But she was so nice while they were eating and thanked him for the food... She wasn't pretending...

Anyway, Arthur offering to clean up the dishes was a much bigger deal than Gwen realized. He lied to her about the food, but the mere thought that Prince Arthur wanted to cook for someone and do their dishes because he'd been treating Gwen like a servant and wanted to repay her, was already, on its own, inconceivable.

G: Because I thought you'd shown some humility! You'd done something kind for me even though I'm just a servant! A good king should respect his people, no matter who they are. A: Guinevere. I know I have much to learn. There are some things that I am terrible at - cooking being one of them. But also, knowing what to say to someone I care about.

Oh, Arthur... We know your flaws and we love you anyway.

Arthur and Gwen's first kiss was just so... ugh. I want to live in it.

I've said it before, but that kiss was the first truly impulsive decision Arthur ever made. Arthur only ever lied to or disobeyed his father to help others, like Mordred or the people of Camelot. He didn't disobey his father for selfish reasons. He lied in this episode about missing the tournament, but he wasn't truly doing anything Uther wouldn't have approved of. His father would've understood, and even admired, Arthur's wish to prove himself beyond his title. And, still, he planned his deceit. It hadn't been an impulse decision to lie to the King during dinner, he'd already had a plan.

Arthur kissing Gwen wasn't planned at all. He made a split-second decision for himself. It wasn't about proving his worth, which was as much about himself as it was about proving he could be the Prince his people deserved; Arthur had no ulterior motive, no plan, or even justification, for kissing Gwen. He just wanted to, so he did. He did it for himself, because he liked her. And it was such a big moment for Arthur, not only because his future relationship with Gwen would be so important to him on his journey to become King (and beyond), but because it showed a different side to Arthur. In that moment, Prince Arthur disappeared and Arthur really was just Arthur. He got what he wanted in the beginning of the episode: he was a normal man who had kissed a woman he liked, and that woman had kissed him back because she liked him too, not because he was the Prince.

Anyway, the music in this episode was beautiful. It wasn't just the Arwen theme. During the final match at the tournament, the music choice was utterly perfect too. But the camerawork and Gwen's reactions while watching an injured Arthur fight Myror were more than a tad dramatic. The music choice fit the match, but it was a bit much when combined with Gwen's reactions. It made her look like a damsel in distress. For that same reason, I also don't like this bit of dialogue (I highlighted the most dramatic lines):

G: You're losing too much blood. A: Do what you can. I have to be back on the course within five minutes or I forfeit the match. G: You can't possibly joust, you're too badly injured! A: I have never withdrawn from a match. I do not intend to start now. G: You would risk your life to protect your pride? You have nothing to prove. Least of all to me.

I don't get why Gwen would tell Arthur he had nothing to prove to her in particular. I don't think he'd been trying to impress her at all. Arthur would never withdraw from a match, not unless something bigger than his life was at stake. I think she said it to show Arthur he had already impressed her, because she knew he'd tried to impress her or gain her approval before. Moreover, though, she said it just so Arthur could answer: "I have everything to prove. To myself.".

Gwen was even more impressed with Arthur after that. She had a real kink for the heroic types. That bit of dialogue was on the same league as most of the dialogue in Lancelot and Guinevere, which I dislike for the same reasons: Gwen was used to prop-up the male characters, with her love and approval being a sort of trophy or reward for their good behavior. I mean, Arthur didn't even reveal his identity after winning the tournament because he wanted to show Gwen humility, and thus gain her approval.

Likewise, Lancelot realized his worth after Gwen told him he was "all that was good" in Lancelot and Guinevere, and impressed Gwen by being willing to die for her, which he considered the noblest death. Arthur proved his worth to himself by fighting in the tournament, and the fact that he didn't do it to gain Gwen's approval impressed her regardless. Either way, it was like Gwen fell under their spell after their heroics, which painted her as some damsel in distress from a fairytale. It was disservice to her character, and what caused the whole Lancelot drama.

The ending with Arthur looking back at Gwen was really touching, but I wasn't touched by Gwen's words: "Perhaps when you are King, things will be different.". Considering the Lancelot and Guinevere episode, and how Gwen was the one to pull away from Arthur for the rest of the season (and even in season 3), the writers had, again, made Gwen the princess locked in a tower waiting for her true love to come. Gwen wasn't like that. She wasn't going to wait for a man she couldn't have. But Arthur looking back at her was beautiful, because, despite his words, it didn't matter that his father didn't approve. He would always choose her. The scene was also symbolic of the inner conflict Arthur would experience for the rest of the series: Gwen/his heart or his father/tradition? Arthur's characterization was overall much better than Gwen's, though Gwen's characterization was great until the kiss.

To end things on a lighter note, how the fuck did Myror climb the castle with his bare hands? Remember Arthur and Merlin did it in Lancelot and Guinevere too? And chatted on the way up? Hilarious.

Poor Merlin and the leech tank. If Merlin could barely finish all his chores with magic, how were normal servants supposed to handle the workload?...

Anyway, great episode!

#bbc merlin #bbc gwen #bbc arwen #bbc arthur #gwen pendragon #arthur pendragon #arwen #merlin #lancelot #the once and future queen commentary #the once and future queen #lancelot and guinevere

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butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway · 2 years

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Yeah and it's just like... I understand my mom, I really do. She's emotionally about 14 and will probably be stuck there forever. I get that not having taken care of the tea makes her feel like a fuck up. I get it

It's just hard when you can't ever say something to someone without them making it about them. It's not intentionally manipulative, but it means no one can talk to you. So I just didn't need my friend out of nowhere sticking up for my mom

(Once again, taking stabs at understanding people, I'd say my friend has been feeling bad about her relationship with her mother, and so likely was in a mindset of trying to be understanding towards mothers. Which like I can get, but also be frustrated by)

Not to mention that like... things now because I basically turn off all my emotions and forget who I'm dealing with, and as much as she annoys me she's better than she used to be and I may not like having her here but it works

But like there's a lot of history between me and my mom, and like... it's not good

Stuff like when I was around 12 I hadn't gone to soccer practice, and she comes in at like 6am to give me a long rant, and I don't remember any of it except the last thing she said was "and good luck ever getting married, because who'd ever want to marry a loser like you" (shame she was right, but still not cool to say to a kid)

So just like... I don't know... I really don't

I like the friends I've made on here, they care, but for one thing I wonder how much they actually know me or would like... various stuff about me that things they've said make me think they wouldn't like

Also though just like but they're kind of bad at it. It ranges from my friend who... I mean she recently said that if I really needed support she was here for me, but like... how do I get it. I've said verbatim "I'm doing very badly today" and she didn't even respond. She cares, but how do I get that other than just having it randomly dropped on a post about me being suicidal saying she cares?

Then my other main friend, she cares but I can't talk to her because me being upset upsets her too much. She also has a tendency to lash out when she isn't doing well, which I forgive but it makes it hard to be close. I like her, but various stuff she does just makes me put distance there

Then every other friend I have on here tends to have so much going on in their lives that I want them to put themselves first. I want things to be onesided for now, me supporting, them just talking to me when they need to vent but like... if they got in a stable position, would that dynamic change? ...I doubt it

Oof, I've done it again. Never seem to be able to say something in less than 15 paragraphs, huh?

I'm just tired... you know, I texted a suicide hotline, and as I was leaving they asked me about my support system and I was like "don't really have one, it's usually me being there for my friends"

"That's great! I'm so glad you have that!"

I swear I just kill reading comprehension some how

My support system is me and my coping skills. I could say more, but it's kind of too personal I think. In many ways they're good coping skills though

I feel like I have to do everything myself, because I do. I've been too tired to break down all the boxes my mom is always ordering, so now they're piling up. Anything I don't do doesn't get done, so I just want to get myself to where I'm doing them

Like 4 hours of work a day and I could make my life a paradise, not even kidding really... I just can't move my body when I tell it to move... I just stare at what I want to work on and... can't

I don't know... my mental health is clearly bad, and yet in many ways I think I'm doing better than a lot of the people around me

Sorry... I think I lost my point here. I just... you know, what I wish I could do is just lop off my head and have my body programed to do the tasks I want done and then store itself in a closet when not working. I want to be gone but get the work done, cause it's good work, it's work I care about, it's fixing my house that I love

I'm just tired of existing and even sleep is unpleasant to me these days

Anon, honey, your mom calling you names like that is exactly the kind of thing that drives someone to grow up thinking they owe it to everyone around them to be each and every one's personal anchor/safety net while believing no one will ever care about them.

I....This is one of those places where I can tell that I'm really struggling to turn off therapist mode, because I see such an immense weight of self-disgust and a thousand little cuts in the voices of people you have loved and trusted with your vulnerable spots. I don't ever want to dictate your story, but speaking as someone who has been there? Really and genuinely, been so alienated from everyone I loved all while doing literally everything I could conceivably do on their behalf because I was convinced that if I did any less I made as well just lay down and die right there. It was all I was worth.

It doesn't have to be like that. It really doesn't. No matter how much you're absolutely sure it does. I promise that's the depression talking. The emotional starvation, the feelings of brokenness, the unending isolation of it all. It doesn't have to drown you.

I don't say this to give you advice but to acknowledge that I see you reinforcing the cruelty others have already inflicted on you and it makes me so sad to see you speak about yourself with such surity that you aren't worth anyone's time. That you need to keep apologizing for the act of existing vulnerably in my presence. Putting others on a pedestal while kneeling in a pit below them. I wish that you wouldn't treat yourself that way. And I know that doesn't really mean anything because it's far easier said than done. Me wishing it won't make it any more likely to happen. But it makes me very sad to see anyone in this much pain so adamently insist that aren't worth loving.

I always liked the turn of phrase from my own faith of praying with your feet. It's all well and good to pray for something, but unless you're willing to march for your cause, labor in your field, or defend others who are vulnerable, that prayer is just words. To act is to go with G-d. To serve your community is to manifest divinity. This is not to preach of course, I was raised by athiests who were amusedly surprised I turned out observantly Jewish, and my favorite story to tell is the day I brought my wife to schul with me for the first time and she was welcomed by the members who asked what we thought of the service. Wifey was nervous but honest and admitted she felt uncertain about it because she didn't believe in G-d. To which the elderly head of the Board replied "Who needs to believe in G-d? I sure don't!" and suddenly wifey was no longer nervous lol.

I guess my point is, there are a lot of ways for people's commitments, whether spiritual or mundane, to be revealed as nothing more than the words it took to make them. And that is always quite hurtful, but especially so when you have been trying to express your needs all along. Listening is a skill few are ever really pressed to cultivate. Personally I like to use versions of Motivational Interviewing for my listening/participating style. Surprisingly effective at making people find you charming and pleasant to be around socially, which was nice as I have always really struggled with being "good company" prior. It's good to learn how to listen, but it's frustrating to feel like others don't return the favor, and it can really wear away at your self confidence.

Anyway, thank you for dropping in, Anon, and I hope you always feel welcome to drop me a message in whatever format you choose.

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