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why-what-no · 1 year

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New Obsession

Pairing: Captain James Hook x Reader, Former Peter Pan x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Swearing, Attempted Murder, Dacryphilia

Notes: guys, I finally posted something for the first time in a while! You proud of me?? Sorry for disappearing, I had so much going on irl, but I’ve got a bunch of spare time over the next while so I’m gonna try to get back into writing more often and finally getting through the last couple of requests I haven’t finished yet :):)

Summary: Having visited Neverland many times before as a child, she returned to Neverland after growing and was struck with the realization that it wasn’t what she remembered. Pan was no longer her anchor and protector, and she was forced to realize that everything on the island is a danger to her. Except for, to her surprise, the gentleman pirate whom she used to be terrified of

All around (Y/N), the pirates were reveling on the deck of the Jolly Roger, completely unaware of the way her mind was racing. Her heart heavy as the thoughts of Peter crushed her. The lost boy never stayed away from her thoughts for long, always returning with some good memories as well as the more recent terrible ones.

"Please tell me you forgive me, lost girl." His green eyes were filled with tears and his voice breaking as he held her down against the bed, dagger in his raised hand. Preparing to plunge it down into her heart, a betrayal worse than anything she had ever experienced. "I have to do this. I have to! But I couldn't live if you don't forgive me."

The heartbroken sound in his voice and look on his face made her want to forgive him; an automatic reaction that made her feel sick. Disgusted in herself and her weakness. Did she truly love that boy – any boy – so much that she could forgive him for her murder? With no explanation or attempt at redemption?

But she didn't give him a reply, and when he faltered, she ran. And now, she was with the people she had once considered her enemies. To an extent, they still were, of course. But they were also now her best hope for allies against Peter – against Pan – on this island. And there was something about the forget-me-not blue of their captain's eyes... they almost made her forget that the color green existed.

Now, those eyes were staring at her from the other side of the deck, as Hook sat in his captain's chair, gazing intensely at (Y/N) without any emotions on his face. His crew was cheering and grinning around him, but he didn't even spare them a glance.

It almost made her tense up, she wasn't used to feeling such vulnerability, pinned under the gaze of a man like Hook. She remembered him vaguely from when she was a young girl, although she had never actually interacted with him until the week she had left. He had seemed so old to her, so scary and untouchable. Peter had always encouraged her to feel that way.

Maybe that was why she felt like he was gazing into her soul. Because few people had known her that young, and the ones that did were all either her dearest allies or worst enemies. At the moment, Hook was neither. And so she didn't quite know how to feel about him. There were no boxes to put him into in her head.

But unfortunately for her sanity and dignity, there were words to explain the unsettled allure that his gaze made her feel in the pit of her stomach.

It didn’t help that he looked so… enticing. Strong and angular features, and a gracefulness in the way he moved. Everything was deliberate with him, every action purposeful and stayed in her mind for longer that it should. His pale skin stood in contrast to his long dark hair, cascading over his face and framing those hypnotic forget-me-not blue eyes.

He stood up, drawing glances from his crew but quickly being ignored again when they recognized that he wasn't about to give any announcements. No, only (Y/N) was looking at him as he made his way towards her. Like a large cat, a mountain lion or a panther ready to pounce. To tear her apart.

But he didn't, merely stopped in front of her, leaning forward as the girl looked up into his eyes. It wasn't that he completely towered over her, but his regality, his aura of power made her feel like he did. "And are you enjoying this evening?" He asked, whispering into her ear. The sound of his voice and the warmth of his breath so close making her nearly shiver.

"Yes." She replied, taking care that her voice sounded even and calm. Trying to ignore how fast her heart was beating, how she had never felt an affect like this before. Like he was a flame that could burn her any second.

Hook's lips curved into a small smile. "Wonderful, a lady such as yourself deserves a fine celebration." His gleaming hook moved to hover against her back, keeping it at a respectful distance. But even though it wasn't touching her, she could practically feel the coolness of the metal against her clothes. It took all her control not to lean into his touch.

"Thank you." She responded, doing her utmost best not to look at him while his eyes stayed glued to her face. "Although I might go to bed soon. I've had enough excitement for the day, I think."

"Of course." Hook responded in a voice that possibly sounded almost... disappointed? "I shall give you the space to relax now, and make sure none of my pirates bother..."

"No -"

(Y/N) mentally slapped herself at her quiet outburst as Hook paused, raising an eyebrow at her.

"No?"

"I..." She could feel warmth on the back of her neck, praying that she was wasn't turning red. "You're fine. I don't mind your company. I don't... you can stay if you want."

What she really wanted was to jump into the ocean out of sheer mortification and let the mermaids drag her down to the depths. She wouldn't even try to kick or scream.

But Hook just looked surprised, beginning to smile once again.

The man offered her his hand, not his hook like he normally did when he wanted to lead her somewhere. It was surprisingly warm, and so gentle. The callouses that came from sword-work were there, but they felt more like the hands of a musician, a writer. That was the one thing that surprised her the most about Hook, he was a gentleman as much as he was a pirate. Equal parts savage and refined.

Perhaps that was what drew her towards him. She knew he could treat her better than any man she knew... and hurt her worse. He made her feel small beside him, but so important.

"Come with me." He told her, and she immediately followed. Letting him hold her hand and lead her towards the captain's quarters.

It was quiet when they got inside, the large and elegant room surprisingly soundproof. Letting go of her hand, he gestured around the room, giving her permission to look around. "Forgive me for my forwardness, but I couldn't bear the thought of forcing you to sleep in the crew's quarters during your time here. You may take my bed if you wish, I rarely use it."

"Where will you sleep?" (Y/N) asked, walking over to the large bed and sitting down on it, facing Hook.

"I have a nasty habit of falling asleep at my desk, my dear." He chuckled for a moment, before tensing up once again. "But if you would prefer to spend your nights alone, I shall disappear until you wake."

She shook her head. "No, it's alright. It's your room, Captain."

"James." He replied.

"What?"

He stepped closer. "My name is James Hook, or has Pan not told you that already?" The captain walked over to his table to pour each of them wine into glasses made from large glimmering seashells.

The lost boy hadn't told (Y/N) that. "He mostly told me stories of your rather violent pursuits. Pan very much wanted me to know that you would torture and kill me if I ever spoke to you. That you were a beast who took pleasure in the pain of others."

"Ah." James Hook said, handing her the wine. "No doubt to make sure your loyalty was to him only."

He was probably right. And (Y/N) was just disappointed that it took so long for her to realize that. So many people had attempted to do that to her in her life, to twist her reasoning and manipulate her into thinking that they were the only people she could trust. And for some reason, Peter had succeeded so easily. Perhaps it was her young age and inexperience, but at that point in her life she should have already known better. Or perhaps it was love that made her blind.

"So, you're telling me that it was all a lie? All his stories about you."

He chuckled, standing over her sitting form while taking a sip of his wine. Her hands were folded almost docilely in her lap as she looked up at him, taking in his elegant features. "The stories were true, I assume. I've done enough pillaging in my lifetime that there are any number of truthful tales for that boy-demon to share with his followers."

He paused.

"However." He smirked down at her, before reaching down to slip a finger under her chin. (Y/N) looked down and away as he did that, cheeks warm but not pushing away his touch. At her lack of pushback, he used those fingers to tilt her head upwards so that he could make sure she continued to stay captivated by his intense blue stare, using his thumb to gently stroke along her chin. She could feel how close his touch was to her lips, and she pressed her thighs together instinctually. "I would never dream of killing a precious jewel such as yourself. And thought of your torture brings me great pain." Hook said to her, almost like a whisper. She didn't reply, too caught off guard by the intimacy in his touch. As well as by the dark desire that he was instilling in her.

But for a brief moment, Hook saw her silence as discomfort. "Forgive me my forwardness." He murmured, stepping just out of reach. His hand by his side once more. A sight that felt so unbearable to (Y/N) that a rush of shame overtook her for a second. She was now she was buckling under the weight of a pirate's glance. Of his quick and gentle touches.

"It's alright." She replied, trying to reassure him that she didn't mind his ‘forwardness’. "Do you want to sit? With me?" She patted a spot beside her on the bed, displaying a forwardness of her own. Not wanting him to have to continue standing (and it was easier for her to speak when he wasn't standing over her), and not wanting him to be far from her.

His surprise at her offer morphed into a small grin as he sat down right beside her. "Thank you, dearest." He faced her while sitting, his whole body turned towards her like a moon orbiting a planet. "You are very kind."

(Y/N) doubted that. Most of her kindness was born from selfish reasons. Mainly, the selfish desire to pull him close to her and get him to make her forget about what was happening in Neverland. "Thank you... James."

He smiled as she spoke his proper name. "I can see why Pan was so immediately taken with you."

And there it was. Pan was like a dark cloud constantly following her, and with Hook's obsession in the boy, perhaps he wasn't the best person to distract her from him.

(Y/N)’s distaste of the mention of Pan's name seems to be visible on her face. "My apologies." Hook murmured, reaching forward to take her hand in his. "I should not have mentioned him to you."

"I just... I don't understand why he would do it. I loved him. He loved me."

"He's not capable of love." Hook told her gently, seemingly believing his words. "It's the price he paid for everlasting life."

"He was. He was capable. It was just... innocent love. Childhood love. And besides, he's older now, we both are. Even you've admitted that things on Neverland aren't what you thought anymore." (Y/N) felt ashamed of her outburst. Ashamed that Pan could pull those emotions out of her.

The pirate captain just looked at her, a sort of resigned look on his face that she couldn't quite decipher. "Of course." He nodded. "You may be right. I'd apologize for my impudence, but I worry that you might be tired of my apologies by now."

"You don't have to apologize. You didn't do anything wrong." The girl sighed. "I just don't want to talk about Peter Pan right now."

"Then what would you wish to speak about? Anything you wish to say will be satisfactory to me."

There was something about Hook's attention, his habit of doing or saying exactly the right thing that made her trust him even less and desire him even more. "I don't know. Tell me a story? If you have any?"

He chuckled. "Many more than most people, my dear. Despite this island and it's promised youth, I'm practically an old man now." The sound of his voice was a little bit self-deprecating.

"I wouldn't say that." (Y/N) denied. Maybe he was older that the children on the island, but it wasn't like he was some decrepit old man who was losing his functions. He was... striking.

"No, no, my dear. It's true." He told her, still holding her hand gently. "Growing up is a nasty business. I'm sure you are aware of what I say. All those pesky feelings, the energy of childhood sapped away."

The girl opened her mouth but closed it again. Maybe it was his warm hand stroking hers, the glint of his hook in the candlelight, his intense blue eyes staring into hers. It felt like she had no self-control. It suddenly felt like whatever answer she gave was an important one. It could lead in any direction. And as for the direction she was secretly hoping for....

"It's not all bad." She slid closer to him. "You still have your energy, I'll bet." And all the things that he could do with that energy raced through her head. "You're the most feared and respected pirate on Neverland."

"And those feelings..." She felt like she was regaining some control as she took his hand that previously covered her and gently rested it on her thigh, keeping eye contact with him as she did. "They're not all bad." She barely breathed with nervous anticipation, waiting to see what the pirate did next.

He was certainly surprised, that much was clear on his face. But as the gleam in his eyes grew more intense, she couldn't bring herself to regret what she did.

His hand slid up her thigh, slowly. (Y/N) was pinned under his gaze as her breathing became heavier. She shivered as he skilfully undid the button to her trousers, and without thinking, she reached up to touch his face.

Never in her dreams had she thought she would ever see this man in this way. He had always been the scary pirate, the dark villain of her hero's stories. But as he leaned into her touch as she cupped his cheek, she couldn't help but pull him forward to kiss him.

He immediately reciprocated. And even more, he did exactly what she was hoping for. Taking over control of the situation and moving his hand so that it was buried into her hair, tugging her as close to him as possible.

She moaned as he pulled on her hair, grabbing at his coat for stability. Gone was the caution and gentlemanly politeness that Hook had been displaying, she could only see the dark pirate captain as he bit her lip and rested his hook against her neck.

She knew she was putting herself in danger by touching him, kissing him like this. Like Icarus soaring too close to the sun. But he already had her caught in his orbit.

"I can't say I expected this, my dear. No idea that you wanted the touch of a pirate so badly." Hook said, his breath warm against her lips. "Although I am certainly not displeased."

"I just want your touch." She replied breathlessly as he moved his mouth down to her throat, nipping at her neck and kissing along her collarbone. Pulling her hair so that she was made to tilt her head back to give him better access.

He chuckled, enjoying her honesty and desperation. "And you'll get it. All night you'll get my touch, until you beg for me to stop. Until we leave this room or you tell me to let you go... you're mine." He let go of her. "Lie down on the bed. And don't make me ask twice."

The speed in which she obeyed only made the lustful darkness in his eyes grow. As she laid down, she watched him raise himself so that he hovered over her, kneeling with his legs encasing hers. His shape of his thighs were visible through his pants, as was the growing bulge of his cock. She couldn’t help but glance at it.

“Any man who had the honour of seeing you like this would be blessed by Poseidon himself.” Hook murmured to her, running his hand along her side and grabbing at her hip, leaning over to kiss her deeply, harshly.

She watched him as he unbuttoned her shirt, leaning forward to he could remove it. (Y/N) was half naked below him, revealed and vulnerable but it only made the electric feeling in the lower part of her stomach stronger. Made her even more wet.

And Hook could tell. “But you’re not innocent at all, my love. You want me to make you beg for me, don’t you?”

She nodded as he pressed kisses along her stomach until he reached her breast. Taking one of her nipples into his mouth, licking and tugging at it with his teeth as he groped at the other.

He chuckled against her chest as she gasped at his touch. The vibration of the sound reverberating against her body, feeling like it went straight between her thighs.

She took initiative and kicked off her trousers herself. Reaching up to bury her hands in Hooks hair, pulling him into a kiss.

“I might not ever anyone take you away from me, love.” He growled as she tugged at his dark curls. “I’ll keep you all to myself.” He kept running his hand over her body, driving her wild as her touched her. Somehow intuitively knowing all the spots that could turn her on.

However, once her pants were fully gone, he immediately turned his attention to her soaked cunt. (Y/N) was grateful that there was a party on the deck above them, she wasn’t able to fully cover up her moans as James Hook pressed his face against her core.

She held on to his hair tightly, trying to gain some type of stability as his tongue pressed against her clit and into her cunt. “So wet.” He smirked. “All for me? You filthy girl.”

He added a finger only a second later, doing everything he could to remove any thoughts from her brain. Wanting pleasure to be her only sensation. There was something about her that made him go feral, wanting to make this succubus of a women moan and cry for him all night and every night.

“Please.” She begged, tears pricking at her eyes at the onslaught of satisfaction that the pirate captain was giving her. “I want you, please James.”

The sight of her tears only turned him on more, and so he submitted to her pleads. “You want me to fuck you, love? Is that right? You want me to make you come so hard that I ruin any other man for you? To make you mine?”

“Yes.” She let out a gasping sob. “Please.”

“Your wish is my command.” Hook grinned darkly, finally pressing his cock against her folds and pushing inside quickly. He wanted to spilt her open, wanted to make her go brainless for him.

She dug her nails into his back as he rocked in and out of her. He delighted in her moans, at the look on her face as he took her closer and closer to her climax.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had someone as seductive as her in his arms, couldn’t remember the last time that fucking someone felt as good as it did as he plunged his cock into this woman.

Everything about her drew him in, and this obvious confirmation that she desired him as well only served to make him need her more. He grew even harder at the thought of doing this with her again. Of holding her tightly as he fucked into her whenever they wanted.

And (Y/N) could barely think that far ahead with how good Hook was making her feel. It felt as though there was nothing in her brain at all except for the thought of how his cock felt rubbing against the walls of her cunt, of hitting her g-spot as he slammed into her. His fingers rubbed her clit as he did, and she could feel her orgasm approaching.

Hook could too. “Do you want to come, my dear?” He asked her, his hook right beside her face, the glean of the lantern next to them gleaming off of it. “Have you been good enough to be allowed to come?”

She nodded quickly, looking into his gorgeous blue eyes desperately. When he told her she could come, the coil that had been building and building within her finally released, and Hook had to muffle her scream of pleasure with a kiss. If they had been alone on the island, he would have been delighted at the noises he was pulling out of her, but he didn’t want one of his pirates rushing in and interrupting them.

The look on her face as she came was more satisfying that any treasure to him, and couldn’t help but kiss her forehead and face as she caught her breath

(Y/N) collapsed against the bed as he did. “You were perfect, my darling.” James murmured to her, moving away to grab a towel to clean her up.

“So were you.” She smiled at him, relaxed as her mind began to return to her. “Although I can now understand why Pan called you a beast.”

Hook chuckled, his gaze was soft as he leaned down to kiss her. “No more talk of Pan.” He told her. “Peter Pan doesn’t need to be thought of at this moment. You… you are my new obsession.”

And he lay next to her in the bed, felt her against his side, remembered the feeling of her around his cock, those words were true to him.

Taglist: @fictional-hooman @norman891 @fairynook @dark-academia-slut @silverhart93

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dreamonseems · 1 year

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hello, i want to request but i don't know if you write imagines where reader is pregnant or dad! erling. so please lmk🤍

Good Strong Viking Name

Erling Haaland X Female Reader

Summary: Reader and Erling have their first baby.

Ok, I love this. I love dad, Erling. I myself want to have like 6 kids, so I love family fics, so I had such a fun time writing this.

During the last trimester of her pregnancy, Y/N found herself eagerly awaiting the arrival of her little bundle of joy. She had reached a point where her body was thoroughly exhausted and constantly in pain, making every day a struggle. Her swollen feet and hands resembled balloons, causing her great discomfort.

To make matters worse, her once petite frame had expanded to a size that made her appear as if she were carrying twins - an idea that had been ruled out during her prenatal checkups.

Y/N couldn't help but wonder if the reason for her increased size was due to the baby's size, especially given that Erling, the father, was incredibly tall. Despite the discomfort and challenges she was facing, Y/N tried to stay positive and look forward to the day she would finally get to hold her little one in her arms.

Y/N was relishing in a relaxing bubble bath when she heard the front door open. She smiled to herself, knowing that her husband, Erling, had just arrived home from his training session. Suddenly, she saw him standing at the bathroom door, gazing at her in awe.

His eyes were filled with admiration for the little family they had created together, and he was brimming with excitement to meet their little one. Erling was proud of his beautiful wife for being so strong throughout the pregnancy, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to handle it if he was in her position.

When Y/N opened her eyes and saw Erling, she greeted him with a smile. "Hey, you're home," she said. Erling beamed in response, "I am. I just love watching you like this."

Y/N laughed and jokingly responded, "Let me give birth to this baby first before you put another one in me."

Erling approached the bathtub to help Y/N out, grabbing a towel to wrap around her.

"I definitely will put as many babies in you as you will let me. I want a whole football team," he teased, leaning down to give her a kiss.

He then lifted her up and walked them to their bedroom, where he gently laid her down on the bed and helped her dress.

After helping her dress up, "Can you go downstairs and grab my phone? It's in the kitchen," Y/N asked him.

"Of course, my love," Erling replied, eager to help.

As he made his way downstairs, Y/N felt something streaming down her legs. When she looked down, she noticed that her water had broken. Fear took over, and she began to panic, screaming for Erling to come quickly.

Erling raced up the stairs, his heart pounding with fear that something bad had happened. "My water broke," Y/N cried out, Erling himself started to panic, but he quickly stopped himself, knowing he needed to stay calm for both of them.

He quickly pulled out his phone, "I'll call the midwives."

"We are still a few weeks away from the due date," Y/N said, her voice shaking with fear.

Erling stopped and took her face in his hands, looking deep into her eyes. "Baby, calm down. Let's take a deep breath. I love you, and you're going to do great. You're strong, and you were born to do this. I'm here with you," he said, hoping to calm her down.

Y/N took a deep breath and felt her panic dissipate after hearing Erling's words. She knew that with his love and support, she could handle anything.

Y/N and Erling were excited and nervous for the home birth of their little one. They wanted to do things as naturally as possible and have all their loved ones there to support them in this vulnerable situation. They called their midwives and family members to join them in their living room, where the birthing pool was set up, and a safe and comfortable space was made for Y/N.

As Y/N's contractions became more intense and frequent, she got into the birthing pool and Erling held her close while the midwives encouraged her to push. She tried with all her might but exhaustion had taken over her, tears streaming down her face. "I can't do this," she cried out.

Erling held her tighter and kissed her forehead, "You can do this, my love. You're so close, just a few more pushes." His words gave her the strength to continue, and with a few more pushes, their baby was born. They heard the cries of their little one, and Y/N released the breath she had been holding. She had done it!

The midwife asked Erling if he wanted to cut the umbilical cord, and he eagerly did, tears streaming down his face as he held his son for the first time. They laid the baby on Y/N's chest, and the room erupted in cheers. "It's a boy! Congratulations!" exclaimed the midwives.

"He's so big, and he looks like you, Erling," Y/N said as she opened her eyes to look at their baby. Everyone in the room laughed, and Erling was overcome with emotion. This was undoubtedly the best day of his life.

One week after the birth of their son, Erling had a match for Manchester City, which they won. However, his mind was completely occupied with the thought of getting back home to his beloved wife, Y/N, and their adorable little bundle of joy.

After the game, he was interviewed by a reporter. The reporter asked him about the match, but before the interview was over, the reporter suddenly brought up the news of his son's birth.

Erling's face lit up with a smile, his heart overflowing with joy as he talked about Y/N and their newborn son. "Yes, she did an amazing job, and I'm so happy and excited to get back home to them," he said, his eyes shining with pride and love.

The reporter then asked the big question, "What did the great Erling Haaland name his son?"

Erling's smile grew even wider as he replied with enthusiasm, "Ragnar Alfie Haaland, a strong Viking name for our little warrior." The pride in his voice was unmistakable, and his eyes sparkled with love and admiration as he spoke of his son.

The reporter nodded, clearly impressed, and wrapped up the interview. Erling couldn't wait to get back home to Y/N and their little Ragnar, who he knew was already destined for greatness, just like his namesake.

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lightseoul · 1 year

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asymptōtos

synopsis. you needed him to meet you halfway. he couldn't.

cw. fem!reader, student-turned-worker!reader, busy prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~22 yrs old), established relationship, fluff, hurt/(may or may not have) comfort

word count. 5.8k words

The first time it happens, it leaves you more in a state of awe and adoration than worry and disappointment.

In your defense, you never thought you’d end up dating anyone in college, let alone during your very busy senior year marred by senioritis and thesis woes, but the universe decided it has other plans for you.

And so here you are, on your first date with the #2 Pro Hero, no less.

Of course, credit must be given where it is due. All of this wouldn’t have happened without the notorious meddler and your elementary best friend Ashido Mina, who took it upon herself to be Bakugou’s wing-woman during her housewarming party two weeks ago.

Not only did she serve as the pesky glue that resisted all of your attempts to stray away from Bakugou’s immediate circle, but she also later on confessed to having begged him not to delete your number that she not-so-sneakily saved in the man’s phone.

You got so embarrassed when you received your first text from him, imagining him being held at gunpoint by Mina just to send the darned message. You contemplated not replying to save the poor guy but decided against it. You’re glad you did, though, because he ended up surprising you with his responsiveness and consistency, resulting in daily texts until he finally asked you out on a date.

In a very roundabout way, too:

Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime.

Which brings you to the present, post-said dinner, seated on one of the benches in a park you’ve never heard of until now, admiring the view.

“I’ve never done this before.”

Your head whips to look at Bakugou, surprised at his sudden statement. Things have been silent since you left the sushi restaurant.

Well, until now.

“What—go out on a date?” you joke, meaning to lighten the mood.

At that, he visibly reddens, and looks away.

“Dumbass,” he mutters under his breath.

Shit.

“I’m sorry,” you start, “I just thought—you being you—you’d have far more experience than I have.”

You can see him hesitating before looking you right in the eyes, “Wow.”

“What?”

He shrugs, “This is the first time someone’s referred to my being ‘me’ as a compliment.”

“Really?”

He merely gives you a firm nod. You can tell he’s trying to be cool about it, despite how much vulnerability this topic is requiring out of him.

You sigh, shaking your head, “Well, that’s bullshit.”

His voice is quiet when he replies. “...Ya think so?”

“Yeah,” you smile at him, “I mean, I like you. Being Bakugou Katsuki should make you proud.”

You don’t realize the carelessness of your comment until you see his eyes widen in shock. Yours follow suit upon realization, “I mean–”

“Yeah–”

“I didn’t–”

He interrupts, “Don’t worry. I get what ya mean.”

You could only stare at each other in astonishment until you look away in embarrassment.

Fuck.

You’re about to change the subject in the hopes of clearing the air and replacing the awkward silence that has befallen the two of you when you feel a feather of a touch graze your pinky.

You hold your breath in anticipation—willing your palm’s sweat glands to magically close in case Bakugou’s making a move to hold your hand—but that’s when it happens.

A piercing wail echoes throughout the park, and you both rip your hands away from each other.

Embarrassed (Bakugou), confused (you), and alarmed (both), you whip your heads towards the source, only to find a crying kid and who seems to be his father crouched down, frantically shushing him.

You narrow your eyes, trying to figure out what’s the matter from your spot on the bench.

“Kid’s dumb cat got stuck in that tree,” Bakugou points with his right hand, and sure enough, an orange Tabby cat is perched comfortably on the sakura tree near where the kid and his father are standing.

How he managed to figure out the problem in a millisecond is beyond you, but you couldn’t spare a single moment to marvel at his hero senses because Bakugou’s now standing up, palms cracking with mini-explosions.

He sighs heavily, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was annoyed.

Whatever scowl he might’ve had on his face is schooled into a neutral expression when he turns back to tell you to give him a second.

You nod, too stunned to speak, and the explosions on his palms begin to heighten in degree. He starts toward the direction of the civilians, before hesitating in his steps.

“What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, back still turned towards you.

“...For the record,” he looks up to the cat still balanced expertly on the tree’s branches, possibly to avoid your gaze for what he’s about to say next.

“I like you, too.”

The second time it happens…is a bit different. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware this sort of thing was coming. On the contrary, you anticipated it, knowing full well what you were getting yourself into the moment you agreed to become Bakugou’s girlfriend.

But expecting and dress-rehearsing for pain doesn’t make it any less wounding once the actual thing does roll around.

It was your graduation day, and everything was going swimmingly. Bakugou got to officially introduce himself as your boyfriend to your parents while you were waiting for the ceremony to begin.

He didn’t want to admit it, but just by his body language alone, you could tell he was fucking nervous.

(Later on, during dinner, he’d whisper to you how he barely got any sleep the night before. Who was the one graduating between the two of you, again?)

Your parents’ reception of him was favorable, thanks to the briefer you gave them about his media presence not at all being an accurate depiction of the real thing. Your father tossed you a somewhat withering look after the encounter, but you chose to let it go. You weren’t going to let anyone rain on your parade today.

By all accounts, everything was going great. At the end of the program, everyone who you wanted to be present was there congratulating you, giving you bouquets of flowers, and taking pictures for remembrance’s sake.

After bidding goodbye to your college peers, you then headed to your favorite high-end restaurant to celebrate, where you sit now, listening in amusement as Bakugou gets grilled by your family and friends.

“So, Bakugou-san,” your mother continues, “what do you like about our Y/N?”

“Mom!”

Needless to say, you didn’t expect to be dragged into the grilling session.

Your mother only looks at you like you’re the one who’s lost your marbles. To your left, you can hear Bakugou snicker under his breath. You elbow his side in retaliation.

“What? You can’t expect me not to ask him that.”

“Yeah,” your cousin chimes in from the end of the elongated table, “we’re curious.”

You glare at her, “Shut it, C/N.”

“Y/N!,” your mother exclaims, “Don’t be rude.”

You could only pout in response while Bakugou clears his throat beside you, and you find yourself anticipating his response despite the circumstances.

“Well, she’s the most caring person I know,” he eyes you, and you can’t help but look away, feeling bashful under his gaze. “And is incredibly sharp, and she makes me feel understood and appreciated.”

Squeals and cheers erupt from the table, and you laugh in embarrassment at his words and everyone else’s reactions.

Bakugou pinches your thigh to catch your attention, “What?”

You snort, “You’re so cheesy.”

He smirks, “Says the one blushing.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him he’s sporting redness on his cheeks the same way he’s saying you are. You can’t help but grin in response.

The noise dies down upon hearing your father clear his throat, “Bakugou-san, what do you do for a living, again?”

You internally roll your eyes. On the outside, though, you look at Bakugou, who straightens his posture at your father’s questioning.

“I’m a Pro Hero, sir.”

Your father hums in acknowledgment, “You’re Pro Hero…Dynamight?”

“Yes, sir.”

Everyone’s silent as you watch the tense conversation unfold before you.

“You face a lot of danger in your line of work, then?”

Bakugou remains unwavering as he goes through the kind of questioning that would otherwise annoy him, “Yes, sir. But we’ve undergone extensive training and immersions to be able to handle them accordingly.”

This time, your father only grunts in reply, returning to his plate of Grilled Akita Beef Sirloin as if he hadn’t just interrogated a guy. In the corner of your eye, you see Bakugou deflate, from relief or disappointment, you can’t tell.

“Anyway, Bakugou-san,” your mother interjects in an attempt to salvage the conversation, “what’s it like having a job of a Pro Hero? Nobody in our family took that career path, you see.”

“Well, I—”

He barely gets two words out when All Might’s voice comes booming throughout the entire restaurant, and you see Bakugou lose his cool and scramble for his phone to turn it off. Everyone’s eyes are bugged out, probably reeling from the fact that the #2 Pro Hero has such a corny ringtone.

“Sorry,” he blurts out. You chance a peek at the caller ID, which reads ‘Deku’, and you look up to see the frustration in Bakugou’s eyes.

Despite yourself, a sense of worry settles in your stomach. Midoriya never calls Bakugou unless it’s something important, and he’d already been informed about Bakugou being MIA for tonight. Surely he’s not calling for nothing…

“Who was that?” Your mother asks.

Bakugou presses the lock button on his phone and pockets it. “Sorry—it was just a colleague,” he frowns, “I don’t know why they’re contacting me, I already filed a leave for today.”

“Well, if it’s nothing important, I guess we–”

The ringtone, once again, floods the entire room, but this time you urge him to take it as he tosses you and everyone else an apologetic look.

“Sorry. Please excuse me.”

With that, he stands up and heads towards the corner of the restaurant, leaving you with the rest of your family and friends in silence.

“He seems nice,” your cousin offers, and you shoot them a look of gratitude.

“Are you sure about him, Y/N?” your other cousin asks, and you can’t help but freeze upon hearing the question. “Dating a Pro Hero doesn’t seem like easy business.”

“I bet it isn’t,” your father adds gruffly.

You’re about to spit out the best defense in history when Bakugou rushes toward your side, although he doesn’t sit back down. You brace yourself for what’s about to come next.

“That was Pro Hero Deku—there’s been a sighting in the Chofu district of this high-profile villain we’ve been tracking down for weeks,” he fixes his gaze onto you, “And they need both top heroes on the field, ASAP.”

You spring onto your feet with no hesitation, “Okay, but be careful, Katsuki.”

He nods, “Of course.”

With that, he faces everyone else and bows, “I apologize for having to leave early. I hope you enjoy the rest of your meal.”

He doesn’t wait for their responses, attention now shifted back to you.

“Congratulations again, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, forcing a smile on your face in the hopes of easing his worries. He bends down to kiss your forehead, shooting you an apologetic look before excusing himself for the last time and heading for the exit.

You hold onto that congenial smile plastered across your face as your eyes trace his disappearing figure. Once he’s gone, you go back to your seat and will yourself to meet the eyes of those around you.

You see the all-too-familiar worried look on your mother’s face, while your cousins and friends have their eyes down on their plates. Your father, on the other hand, has the same withering look he’s been wearing around you and Bakugou the entire day.

“I bet it isn’t,” your father mutters under his breath, but you heard him clearly.

The third time it happens, it hits closer to home than you expect it to.

After a flurry of important firsts with Bakugou, as well as major life changes that have gotten you breaking down more often than you’d like to admit, your birthday finally rolls around.

As you’ve gotten older, birthdays have indubitably become more mundane. Nevertheless, you went ahead and took the day off of your new job as recruitment personnel in Mirko’s agency, not to celebrate it in crazy ways but in the hopes of spending the entirety of it at home with Bakugou.

Ever since you landed your first job, time spent with your boyfriend has become more and more negligible, with schedule conflicts and inflexibilities of work commitments barring you from seeing each other.

Today was no different.

You wake up to the scent of Bakugou and his citrus body soap, who, as per your request, spent the night prior in your apartment. When you reach out to his side of the bed, though, you’re met with cold emptiness, and your heart sinks in disappointment upon the realization that he’d left.

You at least wanted a good morning kiss for your birthday.

Half awake and reaching blindly for your phone, you bring it up to eye level and check your messages.

It’s only 9:07 AM and your inbox is already flooded with greetings, but none of them is Bakugou’s. Instead, the one text message from him reads:

Hey. Sorry I had to leave early, got some agency-wide meeting Shitty-hair and I are presiding today or something. See you when I get home.

Despite yourself, you deflate at his lack of acknowledgment of your birthday. You shake your head, feeling the ugly emotion of hurt creeping up your spine. Instead, you choose to focus on the fact that he just called your apartment home. Besides, he’s probably just busy right now, you think to yourself. He’ll remember later.

He didn’t remember.

At least, as of 11:45 PM, he hasn’t.

You were still optimistic about things when the day started, going around the house—cleaning to soothe your racing mind, as well as opening the gifts your friends and family had sent to your apartment. By the time lunch rolled around, you had food delivered from your favorite restaurant, which you happily devoured while rewatching a comfort film.

Now and then, you’d thumb at your phone to check if Bakugou’s messaged you a greeting or an update, only to be met with messages and notifications that were the least of your concern.

You lost count of how many times you’ve sighed in discontent, restless for the moment he comes home and proves to you that he absolutely, positively, certainly, hasn’t forgotten.

But before you know it, it’s already 11:45 PM and he still hasn’t walked through your doorway—the last you’ve heard of him being the one text message he left you this morning.

You’re staring blankly at the dinner you’ve prepared for the two of you, devoid of any more expectations, when the door finally clicks open at 11:47 PM and he stumbles in, decked out in his hero costume and visibly exhausted.

“Oh, you’re still awake.”

He seems stunned to see you.

“Patrol went overtime,” he curtly explains as he toes off his boots, “I’m fucking beat.”

You only stare at him from your position on the couch, eyes following his figure as he marches towards the bedroom, possibly to wash off the day’s dirt and grime, barely sparing you a second glance.

“Hey, babe,” Bakugou calls out from the bedroom, who, from the sounds and smell of it, has already come out of the shower.

You hear a rustling noise, “What’s with all these fuckin’ wrappers? Is it your birthday or some shi–”

He falls silent as realization dawns on him, and you shut your eyes in dreadful anticipation. Earlier, when you were still fired up with the day’s anger, you thought you could handle this confrontation (if he ever realized what day it was), but you might’ve overestimated yourself.

Because now, you’re on the couch, hugging your knees and feeling completely pathetic as you hear his footsteps get closer and louder.

Suddenly, your face to face with Bakugou Katsuki, who’s kneeling to peer at you.

And he looks absolutely guilty.

“Y/N, I am so sorry—”

You shake your head. That shuts him up.

“I’m not in the mood for apologies, Katsuki,” you start, “I’m—I’m not mad at you for not having prepared or set aside anything.”

Swallowing the ball in your throat, you press on, “I know you have a lot on your plate right now, and I understand.”

He eagerly nods. You sniff to help hold back the tears that are threatening to spill out, and Bakugou’s hand shoots up to cradle your face in response.

You let him.

“I’m just…” you look down, unable to meet his eye, “disappointed, Katsuki.”

You will yourself to look at him again, “I figured you’d at least remember what today was.”

“Fuck,” he warbles, and now you’re both crying, “I’m sorry, princess. I…”

He trails off, and some twisted part of you is thankful for it. You already know what was going to come out of his mouth—either their staff was a pain in the ass today and he had to step in, or a villain came around to stir shit up, resulting in overtime and him not having the time or energy for anything else.

This way, he could spare both of you the excuses that have seemed to etch themselves onto the tapestry that is your relationship.

“Let me make it up to you,” he says instead.

You don’t know how he plans to do that, but at this point, you’re too tired and hurt to ask or fight back. You gingerly nod your head in agreement.

And with that, he lifts you and carries you into the bedroom, all the while trailing soft, almost hesitant, kisses at the expanse of your neck.

He lays you down gently on the bed, and he climbs on top of you, hovering, until he has his forearms at both sides of your head.

You find yourself melting under the intensity of his loving, albeit guilty gaze.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Bakugou whispers, before diving in for a scalding kiss.

And make it up to you, he did.

The day after your birthday, he files for a leave in his agency, as well as cashes in Mirko’s favor from when he saved her ass in a past mission together, successfully giving you an extra paid leave for the day.

He ends up taking you out to a fancy soba restaurant recommended by Todoroki, and to an exhibit you’ve been wanting to see for the longest time, but haven’t gotten around to due to the ungodly wait (thanks to his Pro Hero card, though, you were able to get special passes).

And, it was at the end of that art exhibit when Bakugou pulls you into a private room and tells you he loves you for the first time.

Needless to say, you were over the moon.

But as a great author once said, one can’t undo the pain one caused. One can only atone for it.

Despite yourself, a seed of unease takes shelter and grows inside of you.

The fourth time it happens, it finally escalates into a full-blown fight.

It was a Saturday night, and you were enjoying a nice, stay-in dinner with Bakugou in his penthouse. By some miracle, he was able to take the night off despite the busyness that came with December and the looming holiday season.

“Stop staring at me,” he had said while expertly chopping the assortment of vegetables you bought fresh from the market earlier that day.

You grinned at him, “Not my fault you look sexy when you’re cooking.”

“Shut up, dumbass,” he retorted, but there was no bite to it. If you knew any better, you’d say he was blushing. “Now come help me with this.”

And that, you did. More like fumbled around his luxurious kitchen while he took the lead, but you tried your best. Which brings you to now: you, seated across from Bakugou at his corner coffee table, overlooking the city skyline.

“Eat,” he commands.

You happily indulge him.

Scooping a spoonful of the imoni stew he graciously prepared for you, you bring it to your mouth, all the while not breaking eye contact.

“Mmmm!” you exclaim the second the flavors explode in your mouth, “this is so good!”

He only smirks in response, but you can tell he’s pleased with himself with the way his chest puffs up with pride, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, idiot.”

You giggle at how his words juxtapose the way his tone sounds so smitten. Hastily chewing the cabbage, you regard him after you swallow, “Right, you said you wanted to tell me something?”

At that, he visibly stiffens, and your stomach drops, feeling a shot of dread replace the elation that’s been coursing through your blood ever since the night began.

“Yeah,” he starts, “I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes?” you mentally slap yourself at how nervous you sounded.

He looks you dead in the eye, “And I think it’s about time we move in together.”

You can’t believe your ears.

That’s not what you were expecting him to say.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he places his utensils back on the table, “Think about it, we’ve been dating for almost a year now, and my place is closer to the agency and Mirko’s.”

He shrugs, “And we rarely see each other these days. I figured we can solve that by having you move in with me.”

You try to laugh, but it comes out stilted, “Don’t get me wrong—I’d love to move in with you, Katsuki.” At that, he deflates in what you think is relief.

“But I have to ask—what prompted this? We’ve never talked about living together before.”

He looks down at his clenched fists on the table, and you can’t help how your body tenses in anticipation of the worst.

“This has nothing to do with asking you to move in with me,” he starts, “but there’s another thing I have to tell you.”

Your voice comes out meek when you reply, “What is it?”

“I got chosen to go on a very important solo mission.”

What’s the caveat? your mind immediately conjures the thought. Instead, you say, “Really? That’s awesome, Kats. Congratulations!”

He flashes you a grim smile, “Thanks.”

You force yourself to smile back, chuckling, “But?”

At your utterance of the three-letter word, he sighs, smile now erased from his face, “It’s overseas. Estimated to take about two months.”

You stay silent, just staring at him. He takes this as a sign to drop the last bomb.

“It starts next week.”

At that, you spring onto your feet, “Seriously? Do you even know what you’re gonna miss?”

He follows suit, “Of course! Shit—I’m not a fucking idiot,” he looks to the side in frustration, “I know, and I’m sorry, but this isn’t something I can just pass up.”

The snarky rebut of ‘It actually is’ dies in your throat when the fact of how much being the best matters to Bakugou crosses your mind.

“...But you promised me you’d spend the holidays with my family.” Your tone is quiet now, in stark contrast to earlier. You don’t even get started on the two-month absence.

He huffs, “I know. But I—”

“I’m sorry Katsuki,” you look down in shame, unwilling to look him in the eye, “and I know this is unfair of me, but I just can’t help but feel like you’re choosing your career over me.”

“But this mission could possibly make me number one,” he pleads, “Over shitty Deku, Y/N.”

You can practically hear the pain in his voice when he murmurs the next few words: “Number one.”

You shake your head in resignation—you know where this is going. You’ve gone through the motions of these arguments a hundred times before.

You’re fighting a losing battle.

“I know.”

At your quiet affirmation of his reasoning, Bakugou circles the table and wraps his arms around you, albeit cautiously. Tightening his hold on you, he whispers a soft thank you, and you feel your heart clenching in pain at how awkward and distant he feels despite being so close to you.

You have the urge to ask him if he only asked you to move in with him to soften the blow of what he was going to say next, but you hold your tongue. The last thing you want is for you to go on your separate ways for two months while in the middle of a fight.

You did end up going back to your hometown for the holidays, although with one less companion. Having to answer your family about Bakugou’s whereabouts was a huge pain, with you eventually resorting to terse responses the more times the question got reiterated.

Your family got so involved in the state of your relationship, with your father dropping I told you so’s ever so often that you finally decided you’ve had enough on the night of Christmas, and resolved to leave for Tokyō the next day.

You were planning to just spend the rest of the holidays in your apartment (you never got around to moving into Katsuki’s home), and wallow in your sadness over your relationship, but fortunately (or unfortunately), you ended up going out of your unit to spend New Year’s at Mina’s instead.

You note the profound role her persistence has played in your life.

Fast forward to now, with you having stepped out of the crowded party in her living room and onto the balcony, grateful for the cool, night breeze.

You hear the sliding door creak open behind you, and you don’t need to look over your shoulder to see who it is.

Footsteps pitter-patter against the floor until you find Mina standing there at your right, uncharacteristically quiet.

You don’t want to hear any comforting words about Bakugou’s absence, so you speak ahead, “Thanks, Mina.”

Her head whips to look at you, and she smiles warmly, “For what?”

“For inviting me to celebrate here,” you will yourself to smile back, “I think I needed this.”

She wraps an arm around your shoulders and squeezes you, “Of course. I—uh,”

She pauses, and you look over at her expectantly, “You what?”

She slowly lets you go and fully turns towards you, the ledge supporting her body weight as she leans into it. A serious expression now adorns her face.

“Just that…I’m not the one you should be thanking.”

You mirror her stance, facing her and narrowing your eyes, “What do you mean?”

She sighs, “Don’t tell him, but Bakugou’s actually the one who told me to check in on you.”

You take a step back from her in surprise (or hurt, you’re not sure—the emotions you’ve been feeling these days have been nothing but complex), but Mina’s quick to step forward and grab your hands, holding it in hers.

“He sounded really sorry about having to leave you alone for the holidays, you know.”

You feel the pinprick of tears at Mina’s words, bringing you to look down at your feet as a means of hiding your sadness from your best friend, even if you know that barely conceals how you’re feeling.

“Come here,” she ushers you in for a gentle embrace.

And you do.

You both stand there for what feels like an eternity, with her rubbing small circles on your back and you crying silently on her shoulder.

“He really loves you, you know,” she whispers, after a long pause, “Eiji and I have talked about it with the rest of our friends—we all agree how it’s practically clear as day.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, and allow yourself to bask in the gravity of Mina’s words.

“I know.”

The fifth time it happens, you astound yourself with your lack of resistance.

While Bakugou was out in the US for his solo mission, you decided it was the perfect time to put in the extra effort in your own work.

Whether it was to make something of yourself or to distract yourself from the loneliness that came with Bakugou’s absence, it didn’t matter. The bottom line was you finally had something to work towards, and it felt good.

You’ve been eyeing this promotion to be the Recruitment Lead in Mirko’s hero agency for over three months now, with the deliberation process taking longer than you’d like, only for it to end with you falling short of the other candidate.

You clench your fists at the thought of having received the news earlier that day.

Insecure and dismayed, you’ve been waiting for Bakugou to come home so you can tell him about it. It’s gonna have to be a long story, seeing as you haven’t even gotten around to telling him about wanting the promotion in the first place. In anticipation of the conversation, you stocked up on his favorite snacks and drinks.

Finally, at 8:54 PM, you hear the lock open with a click.

You rush to the entryway of your now-shared home, and flash him an inviting smile, “Welcome home.”

He’s in his regular clothes, having stripped himself of the grime and dirt back in the agency. Good, you think to yourself, you’ll have more time with him like this.

You’re about to ask him if he’s eaten dinner and if he can spend the night talking when he practically, and unceremoniously, collapses on top of you.

You’re agile enough with your arms shooting up to help carry his body weight, clutching his waist and arm to keep you both steady.

“Katsuki?” you squeak.

He only burrows his nose in your neck and huffs, “I’m fuckin’ exhausted. Let’s go to bed, please?”

You can’t help but ache at the sight and sound of you Katsuki beaten to exhaustion like this. So, like the good partner that you are, you nod in affirmation and assist him as you walk to the bedroom, and help him out of his clothes until he’s left in nothing but his boxers.

Now lying on the bed and under the covers, he holds his arm out open for you.

His voice is low and rough: “C’mere.”

And you do.

You climb into bed next to him, settling into his side as a muscled arm drapes across your waist.

You look up at his face, and a part of you hopes his eyes are still open and twinkling with invitation.

For conversation. For intimacy.

For anything.

But you’re only met with the peaceful, sleeping face of your lover.

That was the fifth time it happened.

And the last.

“Is there any reason you dragged me out of my pajamas to come here at–,” he checks his phone, “8:14 PM?”

You ignore Bakugou’s incredulous question, choosing instead to look around the view of the park from the bench where you’re both seated.

You glance at him, all in his bedhead and glasses-wearing glory. He had a long day, as per usual, having arrived home thirty minutes after 7 PM, but you had to have this conversation sooner than later.

“You seriously don’t remember this place?”

“‘Course I do,” he says in a heartbeat. “This is where I took you out on your best first fucking date ever.”

You snort, “That was yours.”

He sits up and scowls at you, offended, “Fuck that shit. That was both of ours.”

You laugh, unable to tease him any longer, “It was. You even flexed your hero skills to me and all.”

He slinks back into the bench, huffing as he crosses his arms over his chest, “Damn straight.”

You roll your eyes, “Show off.”

He snickers, “Simp.”

You shake your head, trying to fight off the grin that’s spreading across your face. Now was not the time for flirty banter. Not with what you’re about to tell him…

“But really, though,” Bakugou pipes up after a few minutes of silence, “what’s up?”

You can tell he’s trying to sound more playful than he usually does. Still, there’s an air of tense anticipation surrounding the both of you, and it’s been there since you asked two weeks ago if he could clear out tonight’s schedule, as you had something important to say.

Here goes nothing.

You exhale, albeit quite shakily, and close your eyes.

“I can’t do this anymore, Katsuki. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes flutter open to see him holding his breath, visibly on guard.

Bakugou’s smart. You’re sure he knows what you’re talking about, if not because of his intelligence but of the way he gulps nervously, no matter how imperceptible that was.

But he still retorts with, “You can’t do what anymore?”

You gesture vaguely at the distance between the two of you. That’s only been growing in the past few months.

“This. Us.”

You heave in a deep, shaky breath, refusing to look at him. He takes your hand into his.

“I can’t bear it anymore. Forcing you to choose between your hero work and me.”

You chance a glance at your Katsuki, and he’s staring at you, eyes brimming with tears and with such intensity that knocks your breath away.

Still, you march on. You have to get this out of your system before you chicken out.

“It hurts me to make you choose. Especially knowing how much you love what you do and how much you’re needed by other people.”

You try to swallow the lump in your throat, but you still end up choking, “But I need you, too, Kats.”

“And, I can’t keep on getting disappointed and hurt like this every time I don’t get chosen.”

At that, you finally let the tears you’ve been holding onto fall down your cheeks, “It’s all too much.”

A part of you still hoped he’d hop onto his feet in protest and beg for you to stay with him and proclaim how he’ll try harder, despite knowing, more or less, that no objections will pour out of his mouth.

True enough, Bakugou remains silent, like the tears that quietly drip down onto his clenched fists.

Because deep down, he knew.

He knew, from the very beginning.

Before he even decided to keep your number. Before he plucked up the courage to send you that first text. Before he sucked it up and asked you out on that first date.

He knew—that no matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t meet you halfway.

tagging. @katsukis1wife

extra credits. katsuki's first date line (tweet). quote about atonement.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bakugou angst #bakugo x reader #HSJAHSJAHSAJ i hope yall like this T____T #i wrote this in two days and significantly hurt myself in the process #i love and hate angst

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enluv · 10 months

Text

008: THE CONCERT — THAT’S THE THING!

– genre: written content & smau! (after the first 3 slides stop to read then look at the end slides!)

– wc: 2.1k+!

– warnings: ANGST, mc & soobin talk about their failed relationship, insecurities, (feelings of) not being enough, needing time, being/feeling alone, infidelity, deception, please tell me if I missed something!

“If you keep biting at your lip it’ll bleed Y/N,” Sunwoo reminds you for the fourth time today.

“She’s just nervous about performing for the first time in a while, leave her alone,” Keeho swats at Sunwoo, leading him out the room so you can get dressed.

This concert is the very first one where you’d perform your newest album, all the songs that you’d held so close to your heart finally getting their own time to shine and be heard. However, that wasn’t the reason you were nervous, they knew why but tried their best to not mention it.

The real reason was currently sitting in the VIP section near the stage, fidgeting with his phone and bickering with Beomgyu.

“Babe, if you end this concert and decide you don’t want to talk to him anymore, just know I’ll do everything in my power to help you sneak out, or if you do want to talk to him still I’ll make sure Keeho and Sunwoo don’t ease drop. Either one is up to you, but seriously, we’re all here for you no matter what happens and no matter what you decide.” Yeji sends you a wide smile after finishing the last bit of your hair, she’d insisted on doing it to kick off the tour, ending her small speech.

“Thank you. I honestly appreciate you all for this, I know my past with Soobin is basically what got me here now but I just can’t go on and continue this way if I don’t get closure from him. I need to tell him how I feel and get that ending I deserve because if I don’t, I can’t see myself ever moving on seriously. No matter what he says to me today, I know it’ll bring me closure and I can finally have this weight lifted off my shoulders. I need to do this for me.”

Yeji nods smiling even wider, she’s waited for this for a long time, having known Soobin back when you were all friends, she always had an inkling there was more to his story but stayed true to you as a best friend, she only hopes now that she’s right and he can finally give you the closure you deserve.

“Alright this whole I love you and stuff is cute but they’re calling Y/N up and as her manager I need to walk her over there so I’m breaking this up, sorry Ji say bye to her for now.” Sunwoo’s voice breaks you two apart as he excitedly pulls at your hand, he’s probably the one most excited about tonight.

“Have a good show! I’ll see you up there later for our surprise! Good luck baby!” Yeji sends a kiss your way, quickly sitting herself in the chair to get ready for later.

“You’re gonna do so good kid! Have fun, don’t worry about anyone else! Only you tonight!” This one comes from Keeho who waits outside leaning against the doorframe, his only concern is about the boy you’ll be seeing tonight but he keeps it to himself.

Just before heading on stage, Sunwoo stops, never being one to be so vulnerable around others he takes the opportunity of just you two to turn and talk, “I’m really proud of you, and I know I don’t say that a lot, or like in a serious tone, but I really am proud of you. I know it’s been a mixture of ups and downs for you but it’s all gotten you here, and for those reasons you deserve it all, you deserve to be here performing and making people happy. I know you’re nervous because this is your first big show but trust me you’re going to do so good. No joke, I don’t think I have ever seen anyone more right to do what you do. Good luck and just remember that I am always here for you, if you need me just look to your right, I’ll be there for anything. I love you, go have fun out there.” And at that he pats your shoulder and ushers you on stage.

Soobin’s anxiety increases as he watches you finish off the last song. The crowd is too loud, the stadium’s lights are too bright, and the feeling he’s getting now is starting to settle at the pit of his stomach.

All day he’s rehearsed what he’d say to you once you finally gave him the chance to explain but all that is forgotten now. He’s left with nerves and fidgeting hands as he and the boys walk down the long hallway to get to the backstage area.

The first person he sees is Sunwoo and his heart begins to pound even harder. Soobin used to be good friends with the people you’d surrounded yourself with, having met through you but both Sunwoo and Keeho had taken a liking to him and quickly he’d become like a brother to the two boys. Of course that all changed when he’d broken your heart, and Sunwoo had never gotten past that.

Soobin sense his eyes on him, he knows he’s being watched even as Taehyun and Hueningkai go in to hug Sunwoo, his eyes never leave Soobin.

Before he can even speak up he’s cut off by another one of your friends, Yeji.

“Y/N is waiting in the dressing room, you can head there now. I think the rest of us should go get dinner started somewhere.” A whine falls from Sunwoo’s mouth but Yeji is quick to shut him up. She turns to the group of boys standing next to Soobin and nods her head in the other direction, they get the hint quickly and walk away, leaving Soobin alone.

The door to Y/N’s dressing room is slightly ajar, almost as if it’s already inviting Soobin to walk in, but he still knocks out of respect, mainly though because he’s too scared to open the door himself.

A small, “Come in,” sends his mind back ten steps, is he really ready to do this? Will you actually believe what he has to say? He can’t be sure of the outcome until he tries, so he takes that leap, and opens the door, walking through it straight to you.

As you sit in front of Soobin, his hands begin to pick at the skin around his nailbeds, they turn pink and red staining them as he digs deeper and deeper, you fight the urge to pull his hands away from one another, this is a habit he’s possessed for a long time.

“You did really great up there by the way, just wanted to make sure I told you that,” Soobin speaks first, his words are fast and flustered but sincere.

“Oh, wow thank you. I appreciate that.” You’re surprised to hear your voice sound so small, it’s never like this.

“I’m really nervous right now, do you want to go first or should I?” He’s picking at his nails again.

“You should go first. I think I’d like to hear what you have to say.”

The breath he’s holding in is finally let out and he nods at you, and then slowly he descends into what he told the boys just a few weeks earlier.

“When I told you that night after lowkey was released that I couldn’t give you a real relationship I think I meant it, but not because I wasn’t committed to you, more so because I knew I wanted to be able to provide for you, to be there when you needed me but in all honesty I couldn’t do that. I wasn’t happy with myself yet, I wasn’t taking care and consideration of my own person so I wasn’t confident that I would be able to do that for you. That was my own fault though, you always made me feel like I was enough Y/N but truthfully I could never believe in it because I didn’t believe in myself.”

He lets out a sigh and moves closer to you, placing his hand on your own, he wants you to face him, see him eye to eye.

“I loved you, I think a part of my actually still loves you. I know that night when we fought I lied to you, I told you I was seeing someone else, but that wasn’t true I only ever wanted you, I can prove it if you need me to, and I know I told you I wasn’t ready, that much was true but what I should have also said was that I wanted to grow and be ready for you. I should have told you that if you could just wait a bit longer, I would grow to be ready. I knew asking you to wait was horrible because you’d do it, and I couldn’t do that to you, I couldn’t hold you back. I needed to work and grow, but you’re kind and you loved me and I knew you’d wait. I’m ready now, I know it’s been a long time but I’m ready now, and I’m sorry I put you through so fucking much. You have every right to tell me no and to just leave me right now but I do thank you for giving me the time to explain myself. I love you sincerely.”

The look in his eyes is enough to tell you he’s telling the truth, and a small feeling runs through you at his touch. His fingers rub the back of your hand cautiously, gently soothing you as you prepare to speak up.

“I’ve hated you for a long time. Recently I learned though that it wasn’t hate I felt for you, it was longing. I longed to be part of your life, to be the girl you said you’d been seeing, to be the person you wanted. I longed to have you in my life the I had you in the past. I appreciate you being honest with me, I think after a while I’d accepted a lot of what you’d told me that night and I tried to move on but it always came back to me. We were stuck together like glue, always with one another twenty four seven, so when you said you’d had someone else it hurt so much, because I never saw a time when you could have snuck away and went to see them, and you’re telling me this now and it’s a bit of a relief but also I feel like I’ve wasted years hating a ghost. I’ll need time to heal from that. Insecurities are hard, I’ve been there Soobin, there are nights and days when I feel like my music is the worst thing in the world, where I’m sure no one is listening to it. I know how they can eat you up inside and I know they’re hard to push away, to unlearn them. I’m sorry you had to go through that alone, I wish I’d been able to help you but I understand that talking about insecurities makes them all more real to one so I know it must have been hard. I’m not saying that’s completely an excuse and everything is fixed now between us but I know that I understand you, and I understand why you did some of the things you did. I appreciate you sharing this with me, I’m sure it was hard. Thank you for trusting me. I love you still, I know that may be hard to believe given the songs I’ve written about you and the things I’ve said but it’s true, and I don’t think I can keep the feelings to myself anymore.”

The air surrounding you two feels lighter, it’s not as stuffy as when you’d both first sat down. It’s in a way, soothing.

“I think maybe we should start over, I’m not saying forget anything that happened because that helped us grow and it brought us here today but it’s been a while, we’ve grown, how about we get to know one another again?” Soobin suggestion hangs in the air as he waits for your response.

“I’d like that a lot,” a small smile beams on your face and up at him, “Wanna get dinner with me?”

“I’d love that.”

MASTERLIST / PREVIOUS / NEXT

coco’s ♡ note: this chapter was really sad for me to write because I love ttt soobin, i know i mess with him a LOT but he’s so adorable, he just wants his girl back 😭 anyways I hope you all enjoyed this! as always, feedback & reblogs are always appreciated!

TTT TAGLIST! - @jmin-s @stealanity @iijwon @invuwrld @igotkpoops @telesvng @whippedforbeomgyu @l0ve-joy @envirae @neozon3nha @meiiiwa @kangtaehyunfan029 @chaerybae @ch2won @cinnikoi @wccycc @run2seob @stariszn @haew0nz @neoculturewhat @hyuk4ngel @ddeonubaby @oulspvs @sullystraw @liliyaaaaas-library @rainbowszi - Want to be added? Send an ask or dm to be added to the taglist!

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writing-rat · 7 months

Text

Competitiveness Doesn't Usually Lead to This

Pairing: Bianca x Wednesday

Content Warning: 18+ Content, Smut, Anal fingering, G!P Wednesday, G!P Bianca, Rough sex, Submissive Bianca, Dominant Wednesday

REQUESTED YB: @iamthewoe

Summary: Wednesday and Bianca fence after hours and even made a bet they must follow.

“Wednesday. One-on-one at 5 pm,” Bianca demanded, looking at Wednesday who sat at the fountain casually, just reading. She raised an eyebrow before she nodded at her rival and thought.

“Want to make a bet?” Wednesday asked, smirking cockily. Bianca was looking at her with a raised eyebrow before she was nodding as a yes. “Whoever wins gets to fuck the other right then and there,” Wednesday dealt. Bianca nodded to agree.

“Get your ass ready,” Bianca spoke, shaking hands with her. That’s when she wandered off to her usual table as Wednesday watched.

She was going to make sure she would win over Bianca, no way would she be dominated like that.

It was officially time and Wednesday walked in, her sword in hand. She had clearly gone commando as seen through her suit as she had a dickprint. Bianca smirked as she looked over. “I see you have gone commando too,” Bianca teased. “Yeah, it’ll be better for you later,” Wednesday spat out before she was throwing her mask to the side. “Military challenge. Whoever gets 3 points first wins,” Wednesday challenged before Bianca was nodding with a smirk. “You are going down Wednesday,” she stated before she got into the starting pose. Wednesday just tilted her head innocently enough before she started to move once Bianca did. Swords clashed against swords as both were very intent on the prize, their dignities on the line. They were wanting to defeat each other. Bianca was wanting to make the shorter girl go into a vulnerable position and Wednesday was wanting to dominate the taller girl.

Eventually Wednesday won. The score was actually 3 to 2 and Wednesday was proud of herself. “I hope you prepared yourself,” Wednesday teased, shoving the taller girl against the wall. Bianca grunted but knew it was fair to Wednesday as she had won fairly. “You better be gentle,” Bianca spoke, glaring at the tiny girl who raised an eyebrow before she was nodding. “Fine, I will be good with you,” Wednesday spoke before she stripped Bianca off, kissing her neck as she trailed her lips down to bite her shoulders too. Bianca moaned lightly as she was stripped down, leaning into Wednesday’s hands as one was touching her beast, rubbing her nipples and the other was stroking her dick, Bianca widened her eyes unable to help it as she was biting her hand immediately.

Wednesday smirked as she kept going, stroking more while her dick was pressed against Bianca’s ass. She was still clothed, however, wanting Bianca to beg for her dick, wanting to put her in her place. Bianca whimpered as she was feeling Wednesday’s dick against her but she wasn’t going to stoop so low yet. She wouldn’t ruin her reputation just yet. Eventually, Wednesday stopped stroking as she noticed how Bianca was clenching up. She was close and she could sense it so she just thought she would have to break her to submission. Bianca was embarrassed about the literal whine that slipped out of her mouth as she was used to just cumming whenever she wanted. “You are such a needy girl, hm?” Wednesday teased. Bianca shook her head but moaned loudly when her breast was gripped hard. “Fuck, please, just let me cum,” Bianca finally begged out.

“What are you to me?” Wednesday asked, teasing Bianca’s tip while she was rubbing her own dick, which was still clothed. “I am your submissive,” she whined out as she was bucking her hips. Wednesday licked her lips as she was nodding.

“That’s a good girl,” Wednesday responded before she quickly shrugged off her suit, one hand soon trailing to Bianca’s ass, groping it hard as she was soon rubbing her hole. “Now, let me stretch you out then we can continue with this… little session of ours,” she teased. Bianca whimpered as a thumb slowly entered into her. “Oh, you are already stretched out, hm? You secretly like it inside you, don’t you?” she teased Bianca. “Yes, yes I do,” she moaned out louder. “Please, just fuck me already,” Bianca begged, letting her dignity die. Wednesday smirked before she reached into the pocket of her fencing suit, and got some lube out as she was lubing herself up. “You got it whore,” Wednesday spoke as she was moaning slightly as she was stroking herself with the lube before she started to enter into Bianca, letting out a moan by accident as she was entering. Meanwhile, Bianca was breathless as she was biting into her hand and was shocked at Wednesday’s size but didn’t say anything. She had stared it out when Wednesday first came to Nevermore after all.

Eventually, Wednesday waited for Bianca to adjust, but she knew that it wouldn't take long, especially if she liked anal anyway. After a minute, Bianca nodded. “Please, don’t give me any mercy,” Bianca begged out. Wednesday smirked at that. She did want to demolish the taller girl after all. She was thrusting hard immediately, but slow. She would save that for later to tease Bianca as she was holding her breasts, rubbing and pinching the nipples. Bianca kept moaning into her hand as she was being fucked, but didn’t appreciate the pace.

“Faster, please Wednesday, I need it,” she whined out loud, she was sure that everyone could hear her outside the hall but quite frankly… she didn’t care. She was feeling Wednesday’s dick take over her ass and she loved it admittedly as she was scratching at the walls when Wednesday went faster. That’s when Wednesday went and touched the scales on her neck and caressed them. Bianca meanwhile keened by accident as she was arching her back against Wednesday. The Latina immediately knew that she had hit a soft spot and kept caressing it as she was moaning herself. Bianca was biting even harder before she felt the shorter girl hit her prostate when she went even rougher and faster.

“Fuck!” Bianca cried out, unable to help it before she came all over the wall. Wednesday meanwhile kept going before she suddenly stopped before she came inside her. Bianca was panting as she was even more tired, even after fencing. “Let’s go shower now, hm? Then we can go to a restaurant in town and get some food,” Wednesday spoke. Bianca nodded, following the Latina’s lead just like a dog would.

#bianca x wednesday #wednesday addams #bianca barclay #ratboy writing #ratboy writes

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outstandingblue · 1 year

Text

Promises to Keep

Six - Meeting the Team

recom!miles quaritch x fem!na'vi oc

part six is finally here! this part kinda really got away from me. i hope y'all enjoy!

Jiniraa never liked fighting. It wasn't in her nature, but violence was ingrained into the lives of the Recoms around her. Also - never threaten to take Mansk's sunglasses.

cross-posted on ao3 - find it here content warning: anxiety, blood, fighting word count: 3.4k

Jiniraa didn’t like fighting. She didn’t like anything that involved harm to another living being. Sure, her body had the potential to be one hell of a weapon if trained properly, but she never had the desire. One second of pain and she was already tapping out.

When Neytiri and Jake went on their date nights, Jiniraa was often left in charge of babysitting duties. On numerous occasions, these babysitting adventures would turn into full on wrestling tournaments and she found herself rough housing with the Sully children and Spider.

Neteyam and Lo’ak had been trying to make their father proud for years, trying to draw his attention with flashy fighting skills. Tuk was an absolute manic when it came to play-fighting. She was able to zip through legs and before you knew it, she’d have you flat on your back. In reality, she always felt her weakest around those kids; they were years younger than her, but knew more about self-defense and offensive fighting than she ever could. The fact that those kids had that knowledge at such a young age made her sick, especially because it was a necessity for survival when the Sky People returned.

Time and time again, Jake attempted to instill the most basic of survival skills within the young woman. Jake tried for weeks to teach Jiniraa the most basic hand-to-hand skills. He saw the potential she had to become a great warrior. Her build was stockier than the Omaticaya woman, giving her a muscular upherhand. She was shorter, allowing her to move undetected through the forest and fast enough to evade incoming attacks. In the end, Jake’s attempts to train Jiniraa were a complete failure.

When it came to her own body, Jiniraa just didn’t have any sort of self-preservation. Frustrated with his failure, Jake gave up on Jiniraa’s training, moving onto a new, more promising student. While the disappointment on Jake’s face stung, she was relieved to not receive further instruction.

Jiniraa didn’t particularly like the violent, fast paced hand-to-hand Jake attempted to teach her. Under the direction of the Tsahik, Jiniraa sought a different type of self-defense, one through exploitation of the body’s weakest points. Through years of trial and error, she was able to map out the vulnerable pressure points the Na’vi body hid within.

Most Na’vi warfare was through long-range bow targeting. She was a decent hunter, not the worst and certainly not the best - she was simply adequate. Those bow skills were not honed enough to ever save her life. Her pressure point skills were reserved for the most dire of situations.

She’d only actually used her skills in confrontation once; with a swift, targeted two-finger prod towards the lower side, Jiniraa was able to bring Ja to the ground. In all honesty, she didn’t even realize she did it. Her body acted on instinct as adrenaline coursed through her veins.

So now that Jiniraa has found herself stuck in a room full of warriors trained in the art of killing and warfare? She was utterly helpless. These people probably know a hundred and one ways to kill me. And that’s probably just with their bare hands. She thought to herself, feeling her palms growing damp with sweat.

Like the Sully children, Jiniraa enjoyed hearing stories of when Jake was a human on Earth, especially regarding his career as a Marine. Neytiri did not like Jake sharing these details of his human existence, so storytime was often kept a secret between Neteyam, Lo’ak, and Jiniraa.

Jake’s most popular stories were about boot camp where recruits were taught more than a dozen fighting skills before graduation. His favorite story was how he almost got drowned in a river during a shallow water grappling exercise. From that day forth, his three audience members declared Jake insane.

Jiniraa felt anxiety pulling at her stomach as more memories of Jake’s stories flashed through her mind. Since she was older than his children, she sometimes got a special insight into more explicit and damning stories. The amount of training he had was probably nothing compared to the Recoms standing in front of her, all hand-selected for this program to be the best killing machines imaginable.

Miles watched with a careful eye, trying to see how far he could push the Na’vi in front of him. He wanted to use this day to demonstrate just how skilled the Recom unit was. A way to scare Spider and Jiniraa into obedience.

Jiniraa let her eyes fall shut as she took a deep breath. It’s going to be fine. They wouldn’t kill us. The Colonel said he needed us for this mission. Her thoughts began to spiral. What if they only need one of us? What if that’s what today is? Is he going to use today to determine who lives and who dies? I can’t let them hurt Spider. The Colonel promised he wouldn’t hurt any of the kids. Does that mean I’m going to die today? I can’t leave Spider alone with them.

Jiniraa’s heart rate began to increase as her breathing became labored, she could feel the panic creeping up her spine as her hair stood on edge. It felt like her body was on fire and covered under a sheet of ice at the same time. Her thoughts became louder and flooded in faster.

Miles could almost hear the pounding of her heart from across the room. His ears twitched in all directions, trying to focus on anything other than the woman who was clearly on the brink of an anxiety attack. He turned his shoulders, not expecting how seeing her current state would affect him. Her eyes were wide and afraid. Her chest was rapidly rising and falling, but it didn’t seem like she was receiving enough air.

Her mask dangled around her neck. He pursed his lips together - she needed to slip the mask on. His internal battle came to a halt as he watched her come to her senses. Jiniraa brought a palm up to her sternum, resting her hand there for the skin-to-skin comfort. Her self-soothing let her calm enough to realize to lift the mask to her lips, taking a few deep breaths. Miles' shoulders dropped as the tension resolved itself, relieved before turning back to his own task.

A minute passed before Jiniraa realized they were supposed to be stretching. The Colonel’s vague directions didn’t help ease the pit of anxiety within Jiniraa’s stomach, the one she barely managed to control just now.

She looked around for her human counterpart, only to find him awkwardly standing five or so meters away, awkwardly stretching his arms out and trying not to make eye contact. He was probably just as nervous as Jiniraa was, but doing his best not to show it. Spider was a decent fighter, his spirited heart carried his body through the air, but his body was his greatest weakness. At his full height, he was only two-thirds the height of other Na’vi. He was a weak little child in comparison.

You’d never expect how being locked up in a cold, stark-white, metal box for a few days could impact a person. Within the past week, Jiniraa hadn’t moved more than twenty feet at a time, the stagnant lifestyle taking a toll on her body. This was her opportunity to get around and move. She shook out her shoulders, attempting to shake her anxiety with it.

Reaching up, she pulled a bone hairpin out of her dark locks, letting the waves fall across her face, momentarily blocking her vision. She held the pin between her teeth as she pulled all her hair back, securing it with a bracelet. Pulling her hair off her neck improved her wellbeing instantaneously. There is something so soothing about a cool breeze against one’s neck.

Reaching her hands up towards the ceiling, Jiniraa stretched out her body, mirroring the stretch she had in the holding cell. Her clothing shifted around her body, following the limbs underneath.

The pants she wore were loose enough to cover her legs, but not hide the movement. The long slits running from ankle to hip allowed onlookers to almost completely see her legs. When she squatted down, her knees and thighs would reveal themselves to the world. Around her ankles and waist, the pants were tight to her body, but loose everywhere else. The garment wasn’t the best choice for a forest dweller, as she was reminded a hundred times over, but it’s what she liked.

Her tan macrame top offered more coverage and support than the traditional Na’vi chest pieces. It secured itself around her neck, and mid back, leaving her shoulders and upper back completely exposed. Like most Na’vi women, Jiniraa tended to leave her hair free flowing against her back, but she always secured the front sections of her hair backwards, hating when it fell in front of her face, hence the hand-carved bone hair pin, a gift from Kiri.

Jiniraa glanced over to Spider who seemed even more out of place than a few minutes ago. She gave him a little nudge on the shoulder and smile, attempting to comfort him. He returned the smile and seemed to lighten up a little bit.

Knowing Spider was watching out for the both of them, Jiniraa let her eyes flutter closed as she started stretching her stiff limbs. While the Recoms spent years molding their bodies to be killing machines and building muscles, Jiniraa spent countless hours working on her flexibility, applying her skill to maneuver and trek through the forest. The entire Recom unit would glance over to Jiniraa and Spider every once and a while. Some watched in awe, others in aversion as Jiniraa twisted and folded her body around itself.

For a peaceful moment, she completely forgot where she was. She wasn’t a prisoner. She wasn’t in a foreign place. She was back home, surrounded by the people she loved. She was in her own world.

Miles’ skillful eye caught how distracted his unit was by Jiniraa. He grit his teeth together and clapped his hands together loudly, getting everyone's attention instantaneously. Of course, he watched as Jiniraa fell out of a backbend, head slamming into the floor, alarmed by the sudden noise. A small smirk pulled at his lips as he watched her revel in pain for a second.

Big green eyes looked over to Miles as she stood up, rubbing the sore bump on her head. She muttered something under her breath, but he couldn’t hear it.

“Fall in!” Miles yelled as everyone jogged over to the center of the room. Jiniraa and Spider walked. Their defiance annoyed Miles to no end.

“Let’s go ladies!” Lyle called out, causing the rest of the Recoms to increase their pace. As for the other two, they continued walking. Well, Spider was borderline speed-walking to keep up with Jiniraa’s long strides.

Miles looked over to Jiniraa, crossing his arms and shifting his weight to one hip, annoyance and frustration spread across his face. She said nothing, only smirking in return before looking at Lyle. The bald Recom had his blue sunglasses on. Inside. Douchebag.

Jiniraa and Spider surveyed the remaining Recoms as they circled around. The Recoms did the same to measure up the Na’vi and teen-Na’vi-wannabe.

This was the first time since the forest incident almost a week ago the entirety of Deja Blue had gathered together, Miles felt a twitch in his stomach remembering the deaths of Walker, Brown, Warren, Fike, and Zhang whose bodies were left in the Pandorian forest. He didn’t even want to think about the animals who’d scavenge the meat off their bones before insects moved in to clean the rest.

Miles’ thoughts drifted to how the same thing happened to his human body. Well, the Colonel’s body. It wasn’t technically his. Technically.

“Everyone, this is Jiniraa and Spider. Spider and Jiniraa, this is everyone.” Miles talked down to the pair as if they were children, being introduced to their first grade class after moving to a new town. A town where the entire class were bullies. And knew how to kill without remorse. A thought that kept zipping through Jiniraa’s mind.

Spider scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Jiniraa reached over and gave him a light tap on the back of his shoulder, dipping her chin in disappointment as if to say be nice or you’ll make it worse for us. He didn’t respond.

Jiniraa looked back at the group in front of her, taking a quick scan of everyone before offering a quick smile with soft eyes, “hello.”

Miles pointed to the members of Deja Blue one by one to introduce them. Even without hearing their voices, Jiniraa surveyed their physical characteristics.

“Lopez.” Lots of tattoos. Wide set eyes.

“Prager.” He just looked lost. Weird hair on his chin.

“Mansk.” Long sleeved shirt. Dark sunglasses.

“Zdinarsk.” She crossed her arms and blew a bubble. Pretty tattoos. Looked scary. She had

Tuk in the forest.

“Or Z-Dog.” She spoke sharply.

“Corporal Wainfleet.” He was the only one Jiniraa had exposure to before.

“Lyle is fine.” He brought a hand to his chest, feigning humility. Spider scoffed and rolled his eyes. She laughed lightly at his antics, causing his ears to perk up. Miles ground his teeth together even further, jaw clicking at the pressure. Corporal Wainfleet - Lyle - was quite the character.

“And last is Ja.” Jiniraa turned to the last member of the unit - the one who held her by the queue in the forest, meaning he was the one she brought to the knees with a targeted pressure point strike. She averted her eyes to the ground, suddenly unable to look at the Recom in his eyes. He slightly narrowed his gaze at her, trying to overcome the embarrassment and borderline harassment he faced from Lopez and Prager over the fact he’d been bested by a Na’vi - a Na’vi woman nonetheless.

“Lopez. Mansk. You’re up first. Let’s go.” Jiniraa had no clue what was happening, but it seemed everyone else did. The woman with the tattoos - Zdinarsk - had a smile on her face as she rubbed her hands together, excitement etched on face.

Miles stood between the two men, briefly reminding them of mat rules before stepping back. He held out his hands as both men took off their breathing apparatuses and handed them to their Colonel.

Everyone watched as the two Recoms circled around each other, trying to see who would make the first move. Who would slip up first.

Lopez smiled at Mansk, flipping his hands in the air. He was baiting him.

“I’m gonna knock those ugly-ass sunglasses right off your face, Mansk.”

There was no change on Mansk’s face.

“You might wanna take those glasses off, Mansk. Wouldn’t want them to get broken. There’s only so many shades on Pandora big enough for your fucking face-” he wasn’t able to finish before Mansk charged, leaning down as he sent his shoulder into Lopez’s abdomen.

Lopez was ready for the charge, his wicked smile widened. Mansk sent him flying onto his back, but Lopez rolled over his own shoulder, landing with one knee to the ground.

The Recoms continued to grow louder as the fighting continued, the energy in the room swelled. The men wrestled on the ground, fighting for dominance before Mansk was able to wrap around Lopez’s front and grab his wrist.

Their fighting was relentless. It didn’t seem like a simple sparring exercise. It was life or death to them right now.

Mansk twisted Lopez’s arm around, forcing a gasp out before his face was shoved to the mat. Mansk held Lopez to the ground, a knee between his shoulder blades. Lopez thrashed for a few seconds, trying to get out of Mansk’s death hold. Giving up, he tapped the mat three times.

Miles walked up, slapping a hand on Mansk’s shoulder. Within seconds, the men were up on their feet, fighting personas completely gone as they returned to normal people as they laughed.

“Lopez, you can’t talk big game like that and then tap out like a little bitch.” Prager laughed as Lopez retreated to the circle.

“I fucking hate those sunglasses,” he muttered, wiping a trail blood from his nose.

Mansk’s mouth only twitched for a quick second, if you blinked you would’ve missed it. He revealed how butthurt his opponent was.

Ja and Lyle were the next to go. Lyle already knew Ja’s ego was bruised from the forest and getting taken down by Jiniraa, but that didn’t mean he was going to go easy on him. It just made him more surprised when the moment the Colonel stepped back, a leg was already flying through the air at Lyle’s side. He pushed the foot away with ease, bouncing on light feet.

The pair circled the entire perimeter of the map, sending punches to each other, but never making contact.

“Just fucking go!” Zdinarsk screamed next to Jiniraa. The volume of her outburst was unexpected, causing Jiniraa to wince and cover her ears.

Ja glanced over to Jiniraa momentarily, flashing a cocky smile before going in on Lyle. He punched the Corporal directly in the jaw, but he didn’t stumble at all. Lyle retaliated with a swift punch to Ja’s ribs. As he was knocked off balance, Lyle dropped down and swept Ja’s legs out from under him, robbing his lungs of air as he fell to the ground.

Ja thought about kicking Lyle in the nuts for that shot. His better judgment warned him against it. A cheap shot like that? The Colonel would make him run with full gear till he threw up, started bleeding, or passed out. Maybe all three.

They both knew the fight was over and Lyle reached down, offering Ja a hand. He reluctantly wrapped his arm around Lyle’s forearm. With a swift tug, Lyle launched Ja upright and gave him a firm slap on the back.

Zdinarsk and Prager were next. Their fight was over the fastest. Within seconds, Zdinarsk had Prager on the ground as she wrapped her legs around his throat until he submitted.

Jiniraa looked around, realizing all the Recoms had gone at this point. No one was moving, except Miles. He walked to the center of the mat and opened his arms.

“Alright, sweetheart. It’s your turn.” He took a final sip of air before slipping his breathing apparatus off his torso, handing it over to his second in command.

Jiniraa pointed a finger at herself, her mouth open in disbelief unable to produce a sound.

He nodded, “Yup. You and me. Wanna know how you took that one down.” He pointed at Ja, more butthurt than ever.

“Um - No. It’s okay. I don’t think I can.” She stuttered.

“Not a question. Get over here. Now.”

Spider looked up at the Na’vi. He didn’t expect her to actually take a step forward, slowly walking towards the Colonel. The foam of the mat was soft under Jiniraa’s feet. It felt like a mossy clearing in the forest.

She looked Miles up and down, sizing him up. Of course, he was faster, bigger, and stronger than she could ever be. There were no apparent weaknesses on his body. She noticed how he had his combat boots on. If he tried to kick her in the ribs like Ja did to Lyle, he’d break one. Maybe even two.

She was barefoot and in loose clothing. So much material he could grab and use against her. Only her top was smooth to her body. He could easily grasp her hair or queue and force her into submission in seconds. She’d tap within a moment of pain.

Miles knew that. He recalled the day she was forced into the interrogation contraption and some white coat said she received pain much differently than other Na’vi - her pain was heightened. He was already planning on going easy on her, but this meant he had to keep her from hurting herself as well.

She gulped as she stopped, two arm lengths away from the Colonel. He didn’t say anything before he took a step back, bending himself at the knees and opening his arms to her, daring her to take the first move.

Next: Seven - A Winner and a Loser

Taglist - if you'd like to be added, just let me know :)

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

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zenatness · 8 months

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Minthara has adjusted well to the team. For an unspecified value of 'well'.

That is to say, she promptly assured my dark urge that she'd put him down like the mad dog he was if he got out of hand. She seemed to be under the impression that this was comforting. It kind of was. Everyone else took Ghaunafein's "I crave murder" confession too well.

Act 2 with Minthara and Halsin was amusing. Every time I got to camp there they were, looking like a little family with their mangled tree-son. Very cute. I hope they are happy together.

Less amusing was the bugged tiefling who kept getting involved in Every Single Fight. She was stuck at Last Light Inn and every round the camera would jump to her and what she was up to, before going back to the actual fight. Didn't matter how far away I was, tiefling lady had to be involved.

And then Halsin had to go have his solo portal adventure while the team held the line. Tiefling lady joined the fight, as usual, but this time she was close enough that she dashed over to join the battle. She arrived just in time to see us kill the last enemy and tried to arrest us. For defending ourselves. After pissing me off the entire act. Isolated and alone on the beach. With no witnesses.

So her corpse was promptly added to the collection. And it's an impressive collection at this point.

Withers gave Ghaunafein shit for having a bosom-companion. It was unclear who he was talking about.

I made the decision that it's a first come, first served situation. Whoever got their act together first and tried to make the relationship official would be the (questionable) winner.

Astarion promptly wanted to thank Ghaunafein for respecting his bodily autonomy, so that was that. Seeing how Astarion was being vulnerable, Ghaunafein made an effort to be nicer for once. I toyed with the idea that maybe we'd turn this around after all. Maybe Astarion could make us a better person.

Not better right now, of course, but in act 3. So, after killing Aylin we saved the few surviving tieflings in Moonrise tower, before doing Sceleritas' bidding and killing Isobel as well. Last Light Inn fell, Jaheira died knowing what we'd done as the remaining harpers and tieflings fell to the shadow curse. Having to kill Dammon was rough though. His Majesty might not have died by our hand, but his body was also added to the corpse pile out of respect.

I'm happy to report that my gnoll palls in Moonrise tower had left by the time I came to clean house. Less happy to report that Kar'niss was still alive in the final showdown, so I tried to banish him because that was a complication I didn't want to deal with at the same time as Ketheric. The game bugged out. Kar'niss proceeded to stand and weep loudly outside of the main room as we fought Ketheric, giving me the player psychic damage every time because I felt like a bully.

I opted to free Zevlor in the mindflayer pods. Astarion didn't approve. The "being nicer" was off to a rough start.

While Ketheric refused to tell me about my past there were some secrets to be found in the mindflayer mucus. Ghaunafein was Outraged that anyone would fail to murder him, chose to torture and tadpole him instead, and that his then would-be healer had instead kept playing with his organs. Finish the job, at least. Rude.

The team made it to Baldur's Gate and Orin instantly started trying to mess with our heads. Sceleritas revealed that Ghaunafein was a Bhaalspawn and told him that he had to murder Orin. Ghaunafein was confused at this point. The previous murders had been of people who hadn't really deserved it and Orin had already earned herself a place on the List. It was a weird demand to make.

At this point the dead tiefling counter is best described as: all but maybe 6. Rolan and his siblings left in act one (resulting in the death of all the children but Mol by act 2), Zevlor is still kicking, and one single survivor of the big group made it to the outskirts of Baldur's Gate.

I hope daddy Bhaal is proud of his murder son.

#baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #I'm so sorry Kar'niss #I didn't mean it in a 'you're not worthy' kind of way #I haven't had any real issues with bugs before this #and I'm not sure if the Minthara mod is partially to blame #nothing game breaking though #and luckily I didn't get the Dammon-ox bug so Karlach has gotten her upgrades #yes I did break the shadow curse #for the xp more than anything else #also it was Shar's curse and we're not on her team

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ratralsis · 1 year

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Sudden Vulnerability

Today I want to talk about one of my favorite features in stories: surprise vulnerability.

Vulnerability, in this case, means a character revealing a weakness or insecurity in themselves that another character can, if they so choose, use to utterly destroy the first one.

For example, person A ("Alice") and person B ("Bob") are talking, and suddenly, out of nowhere, Alice reveals that she's long had deep romantic feelings for Bob. It's weird, right? Maybe it's something that we, as bystanders, already knew. Maybe Alice was the main character of this story the whole time.

But the point is, Bob now has a choice: he can hurt Alice or not. And we don't want him to hurt her, so we cheer for the idea of him not hurting her.

I'm going to give two examples. Neither is long, or complex, and both are from fairly popular franchises that had installments in 2017 and got sequels this year.

Example 1.

In Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, there's a famous line where Yondu shouts "I'm Mary Poppins, y'all!" It's been memed to death. It's very funny. It's a great line.

What led up to that line? And no, I don't mean the story about how it wasn't originally in the script (https://screenrant.com/guardians-galaxy-2-yondu-mary-poppins-line-origin/). I mean the actual dialogue from the movie:

"You look like Mary Poppins." "Is he cool?" "Hell yeah, he's cool."

When Yondu asks, "Is he cool?" What he's asking isn't "Is Mary Poppins a cool person?" What he's asking is, "Am I a cool person?"

What he's saying is, "Son, I want you to think I'm cool. I want you to tell me that I'm cool."

What Peter realizes in that moment is "My dad cares what I think about him. I have an opportunity here to hurt his feelings. To absolutely devastate him. Or I can make him happy. I can make him feel cool."

What's happened here is that Yondu has suddenly shown vulnerability. He's made it clear to Peter that he has an ego, and it's fragile, and he worries about what his son thinks of him. He wants to be cool in the eyes of the man he raised. That matters to him.

So when he says "I'm Mary Poppins, y'all!" What he's saying is "My son thinks I'm cool!"

It's a great moment, and it works because it's a funny joke, and because everyone was on board with Yondu being vulnerable in that moment.

It's easy, when you're a kid, to view your parents as "adults," which are totally separate from you and your kid peers. But they aren't. They're just kids who grew up. Adults care about how they're seen. Not in the same ways, that's for sure. But they care. Yondu cares. He loves his son, even if he was never great at showing it. And, as he floats down with his Mary-Poppins-like wand in hand, he wants to know that his son loves him, too. He gets that confirmation, and it makes him so proud that he shouts it to everyone. "My son loves me, y'all."

Example 2.

In The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, when you defeat the final story boss, the giant monster made out of pure dark energy using a magical Deus Ex Machina Bow that Zelda herself beams down into your hands (it's bad; it's a bad boss fight, and I hate it), she appears before you for the first time in the game.

If you've been a good player, you've seen her in flashbacks. You've heard her speak to you telepathically. You've slowly regained your memories of how you met her. How you saved her life, back before you were the you are now. How you kept her safe while everyone around her died due to her weakness, and how that devastated her. How you, before you were the you controlled by you, and her, a hundred years before she was the her she is now, became close.

You've remembered who you were, and who she was, and now, a century later, which passed by for you like it was nothing and for her like it was a hundred years, she stands before you. She's everything you hoped she would be. She's a hundred and seventeen years old. The Seventh Sage, the leader of them all, with the Triforce of Wisdom. She held back the Calamity Ganon for 85% of her life, and now she can walk around again.

And she congratulates you on what you've done. She tells you what you, the player, want to hear, as her theme, Zelda's Lullaby, plays in the background. It's boilerplate. It's standard. It's powerful and official and regal.

"I've been keeping watch over you all this time. I've witnessed your struggles to return to us, as well as your trials in battle. I always thought, no, I always believed, that you would find a way to defeat Ganon. I never lost faith in you over these many years. Thank you, Link, the Hero of Hyrule."

Then the music cuts out. It's done. She's done. She's been the Sage who held back the Calamity for so long, but all of a sudden she's just a seventeen-year-old girl again, looking at a boy she likes, and she's afraid, and hopeful, and she needs to know something.

"May I ask… Do you really remember me?"

She's the strongest woman in the world, and she's vulnerable, right then. All of a sudden, none of what happened in the last hundred years matters except that Link lost his memory, and Zelda didn't, and she wants to know that he's regained it and that he knows who she is and who he was and who they were together, back before Link was you. She wants to know that, now that she can walk around and be a girl again, a literal child, that there's someone left in the world who cares about her as much as she cares about them.

Because, if not, what was it all for?

Saving the kingdom? Of course. That's her duty as the Sage. That's what she needed to do. But what she wanted to do, what kept her going, was thinking about seeing her sworn knight and protector once more. Now, here he is, and she isn't sure if he's the same guy or not.

I've written about moments like these before. I wrote about a couple in my Death Stranding essay from a few years back. I won't repeat it here, but I didn't emphasize it in the same way. Maybe it hadn't really clicked for me yet.

Characters need to be vulnerable for me to care about them. I don't want to give examples of characters who are never vulnerable, though I can think of a few.

A lot of movies try to make characters who are vulnerable for a few seconds at a time so we'll care about them. I don't care about that kind of thing, at least, not for the purposes of what I'm writing here.

I wanted to come up with two examples of a character very suddenly revealing vulnerability in a way that is deliberately shocking.

You don't have to share more with me. I think I've made the point I wanted to make, which is that it's pretty goddamn cool when stories do this kind of thing. It's a good thing to do in a story.

#ratralsis writing #text post #long post

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dissmal · 1 year

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2022 A Year in Emotions

Memories:

Started off the new year with Jon in NYC! Homey takeout dinner with my parents, Moma, climbing with Greg and Dior exhibit.

Uncertainty, Relief. The moment I met Totoro! I picked her up and heard her meowing in the carrier. I released her in the carrier and she immediately started rubbing herself on me and purring. I was so relieved that she liked me.

Fear, Accomplishment. Trying ice climbing. Woke up at 5am, and when we got there it was negative 13 degrees. I felt the least athletic and didn’t have the right gear but I overcame my fears and had a great first climb.

Newness. First ski trip with Halle, I remember driving her car for the first time and being scared. But I realized from this trip that I really like roadtrips.

Togetherness. Trying molly for the first time and going out to Basement. I felt so loved and protected by my friends. I wanted to party my heart out and the DJ Tool was so good and dropped some sick beats.

In Love. Paris - sitting by the Seine and watching the sunset behind Jon. The last night we were there the Eiffel Tower sparkled in a special way and we kissed.

Proud. Going to Tesla gigafactory and see the graffiti that Jon was working on made me so proud of him. I was glad he was doing so well in a foreign country.

Brave. Going to the fetish wear store and trying something that was completely out of my comfort zone. I struggle with feeling comfortable in my body when I truly felt different when I looked at myself in the mirror- it was like I could turn even myself on.

Seeing Xin in London, going to the art museum but then getting a UTI, but also having really good English breakfast at the 100 Shoreditch hotel

Creative. Spray painting for the first time with Chanel, touching new medium, getting it on my nails.

Accomplished, Amazed. First 4 mile race in Central park and eating a colorful bagel with Rebecca after and my first 10k in Prospect Park

Happy. Dancing at the Elsewhere rooftop with Ami, Keo, Alp, Tim, Corey. The sunset was so beautiful and I felt so at ease and happy with a great group of people who were willing to be vulnerable, let lose and dance without inhibition.

Content, Simple Happiness. Sitting on the balcony at Lake Como, feeling so at peace and content in my relationship with Jon. I remember dunking myself into the cool water right before we had to leave and feeling so happy, simple and refreshed.

Inspired, in Awe. Also seeing the Biennale was truly inspiring. Some of the coolest art pieces, like the falling lava, and taking the water taxi.

Relaxed, at Peace. Sitting on the beach in Rugen with Jon. Just eating a really good hot dog and ice cream (all courtesy of Jon) and reading so much of the Overstory.

Comfort. Eating at Barra in Berlin.. maybe my favorite meal of the whole year. I still remember the sea aster and dessert. Staying with Jon made me realize that home is wherever he is and I still feel nostalgic for his old apartment where we had hot pot and cooked meals together.

Anticipation. Seeing the US Open with Rafa and Tiafoe had me at the edge of my seat!

Nostalgia. Going up to Ithaca for the Rev finale, I stayed at the Dorm Hotel which was so memorable, and got dinner with Eme at the Rook.

Frustrated. My parents putting pressure on me about the house renovation situation, having a mental breakdown in Cindy’s room and then Michelle passing out on me.

Intrigue. Norway- seeing the art pieces at the museum like the twisting benches, or the spinning water, there was something new at every corner. Fresco Hallen had an amazing ambiance for breakfast.

Loved. My friends coming together for my 25th birthday, and even Jon being there! It was honestly the best birthday I could hope for, from multiple cakes to karaoke to EEAAO costumes.

Youthful Joy. Day trip to Fishkill Farm to apple pick with Ami, Maya, Benji, Tim, and Alp - just a wholesome day where the weather was so beautiful and I got to do all the fall activities I wanted! Pumpkin patch, corn maze, cider donuts, riding a truck, it was genuinely so much fun.

Excited, Proud, Touched. PISTE Showcase Benefit, getting a shoutout from Nzingha, seeing her realize this dream and being so proud to see my work, in flesh, everywhere I looked at Samsung 387.

Intimacy, Vulnerability. Xin staying over for 3 nights, made me feel so close to her again. I put on candles and we turned down the lights, and sang together over Tom Misch’s songs.

Sophisticated. I hosted Ami, Kush and Keo and brought out wine, nice wine glasses, and even put together a chacuterie board. I felt like a great host.

Moved. The Moth, with Maya Michelle and Niki, 5 stories about “now you see me” were told in such an impactful way, I could never forget. Daniella Faith singing at SoFar Sounds gave me goosebumps, and I loved that she told us to sing with her.

Creative. Nude sketching at Happy Medium made me realize that I missed art so much. Mugler exhibit also reminded me of this creative world that exists in NYC that I haven’t tapped into

Intimacy, Beauty, Appreciation. Ending the year with horny thoughts and the cozy comfort of 2 duvets, and a scenic 4 mile run around Boston with Jon that made me feel so happy and appreciative of my body, of Jon, and of the beautiful world.

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gayerthanevertbh · 2 years

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Right Where You Left Me - Chapter Seven

A/N: Hello lovies! I hope you enjoy this chapter and I would like to ask for forgiveness...I think. Anyways, we’ll see LMAO enjoy!

Summary: A devastating broken marriage was formed between two lovers. She promised you forever, loyalty, and beautiful memories. You believed in everything she said until a file of divorce papers was on her table. Like as they always say; a cheater is always a cheater. If it happens once, it'll happen again.

Pairing: Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader; Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: just a quick smut i guess lol

Word Count: 2.7 k

Chapter One || Chapter Two || Chapter Three || Chapter Four || Chapter Five || Chapter Six || Chapter Seven || Chapter Eight || Chapter Nine || Chapter 10

Taglist: @mmmmokdok @fxckmiup @averygwendoline

“Are you ready?” Elizabeth asked with a breathy whisper and trails her fingers against your soft arms. You nodded, almost way too desperately, and replied:

“Yes, I’m ready. We are a couple, aren’t we?”

“Yes, of course, we are. But, I don’t want you to feel not secure with me. So, I had to ask.”

Your eyes snapped open and saw how vulnerable Elizabeth looked – it makes your heart wrench. You smiled and kiss her cheek, letting her know that you feel so safe with the woman that she smiled back.

“You can take me, Liz. I’m all yours.”

She captures your lips with hunger and softly pushes you, your back hitting on the mattress. It was so soft and delicate as well as her lips and hands all over your hot skin. Elizabeth extracts herself from you, opening your legs with so much ease – you couldn’t get enough of it.

“I’m going to take care of you, my angel.”

Her fingers hooked onto your shorts and pulls it down – almost in a leisurely way that made you very impatient – and threw it across the air with no care. Her hand gently presses on your stomach so most of your weight were on the mattress, leaving you with a whiny moan.

“Lizzie…please,” Elizabeth found your desperation so attractive that she kisses onto your stomach, whispering the sweetest words from her delicate mouth. You can feel her body slowly maneuvers on you and watch as she takes off her shirt, revealing the softest breasts you’ve ever seen.

“M–May I?” You timidly asked. She lets out a chuckle and nodded. As you take your time to process this arousing situation, your hands finally cupped both of her breasts and you earn a slight gasp from her which you find incredibly sexy.

“Keep…touching, oh god…”

Her head falls on your neck and hikes your legs up, her heated core pressed against yours. She asked you to take off your top and you gladly nodded, throwing your shirt off across the room. She smiles at how perked your nipples are – as the cold wind hits on it, making you slightly shiver in arousal.

Her eyes were so impeccable until it was full of hunger and passion. She smirks down at you and whispered: “I’m going to make you feel so good, you’ll want more of me. I know you want me as much as I want you, so show me what you got baby girl.”

She loves going so deep inside of you that your breathing is hard and loud. You clutched on the pillowcase with one hand while the other is at her back, holding her with your might. She whispers, “Come for me, baby. Come for me and only me.” And you came onto her fingers, biting your bottom lip to hold out your moans because you were incredibly loud in bed. She watches you writhe under her touch, your chest heaving with so much passion inside of you.

Maybe sex with Elizabeth Olsen was not so bad, no scratch that, it was the best sex in your entire life.

-------

Scarlett did get her shit together. Her house was tidied up, the liquor closet was thrown out of her house so that she could never grab a single bottle again, she stops smoking and instead jogs more to clear her mystic mind. In conclusion, she was proud of herself.

It was a cold rainy Wednesday night where the traffic lights glow darkly, the road was damped, and the city closes in. Scarlett takes a drive to Nobu. Chris, Brie, and her agreed to have dinner together as friends – because they were friends obviously.

She parks outside and walks inside of the restaurant with not much having a hard time considering the paparazzi were at the other street of the road. She sees her two friends and gave them each air kiss on the cheek.

“How was the drive? It was storming awhile ago,” Chris says.

“It wasn’t too bad, I’m a very good driver, Chris. I’m a grown-up,” Scarlett joked and sat beside her friend, Brie, who smiled at her meekly.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, not after our interview with Ellen!” Brie remarked and gave a friendly hug to Scarlett, which the older woman gladly appreciated.

“Yes, well I’ve been very busy so, I guess I’m glad to have dinner with you guys.”

“Oh, I’d like to mention Florence will tag along, invited her,” Chris says while drinking his white wine.

“Love Florence, have you heard she’ll be in the movie Dune with Zendaya and Timothee Chalamet?” Brie asked in excitement, looking at both of her friends.

Scarlett nodded, she knew her friend Florence was going to be in the movie since they were undeniably close. The two pair shared personal life and experience with each other that Florence trusts Scarlett with all of her, as she feels the same way for the other woman. No matter how young she is.

“Oh speaking of Zendaya–”

You and Elizabeth walked inside of the restaurant, hand in hand, without noticing your ex-wife would be there. As you looked around, you found her eyes lingering on you. Oh my fucking god, why is she here?

“Liz–”

“Oh my god Olsen, hey!” Chris greets the fellow Marvel Actress and hugs the blonde tightly in his arms, leaving you in an awkward position where Scarlett is staring at you.

“I haven’t seen you in so long, come on why don’t you sit with us?”

“I actually want to have a nice dinner with my girlfriend, Y/N,” Elizabeth wraps her arms around you and you thanked her quietly for it. You can see Scarlett getting uncomfortable as she shifts in her seat.

“Girlfriend? How long have you been two together?”

“I did not know this, spill it, Liz!” Brie inquired while chugging down her wine.

Elizabeth takes a glimpse at you, quietly asking if she could tell her friends about your relationship with her. Of course, you agreed, giving a kiss on her cheek that made everyone go an “awe” sound.

“Me and Y/N have been together for quite some time but we made it official last night!”

“What? You guys,” Chris hugs you both as he gives his toothy grin. “I’m so happy for you! Y/N, you really do have taste in women.”

You chuckled nervously as you still feel the gaze of your ex-wife at you, making you a little uncomfortable. “Well, I guess. But, Lizzie is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

And that was it for Scarlett. Your ex-wife stood up and abruptly walked out of the scene, you can tell that she was about to have a breakdown right in front of you two. You let out a sigh, feeling a little awful for her to have this scenery.

“Would you like to have dinner with us? Come on, it’s literally my treat.”

“If Y/N is okay with that then why not?” She looked by her shoulder and softly shakes you. “Baby, do you want to have dinner with them?”

You just shrugged but gave a smile to your girlfriend, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I don’t mind at all.”

You two sat down across from them and you saw Scarlett coming back with an obvious look of sadness. Her eyes were quite red as her cheeks were slightly puffed up. She smiled, too brokenly, and asked: “Are they eating with us?”

You can feel Elizabeth’s arm tense around you and assured her with your hand squeezing on her lap, whispering: “Do you want to leave?”

“No, sweetheart. Do you?”

You shrugged again and replied: “I’m okay, although I don’t plan on staying long.”

She kisses your temple sweetly and nodded, going back to the conversation that Chris and her were talking about. You couldn’t help but stare back at the women that you used to love and cherish. She had her eyes on you, her lips pursed into a thin line as she looks back down, drowning herself with the wine that was left inside of the glass.

“Oh we should definitely all go hiking together,” Chris says and flexes his arms childishly – making my mood a little lighter. “I want to able to–”

“No, Chris, you are absolutely not doing that,” Brie replied with a playful roll in her eyes; making the man giggle like a 5-year-old.

Once the food that you ordered arrived, you kept yourself busy with it – eating it at such a slow pace. You would sometimes see Elizabeth’s hand grazing on yours and it would make you blush, but then completely forgot that someone else was watching you both do it in action.

“I’ll excuse myself for a moment,” Elizabeth nodded and gave you a peck on the cheek, making you smile, and walked out of the table – leaving Scarlett doing the same thing. Muttering, she said: “I’ll be right back.”

“Scar–”

The older woman didn’t say a word and followed you to the bathroom, only for you to notice that she has pushed you inside and had her hands upon the wall; shielding you away.

“What the fuck?” You exclaimed and tried pushing her away until you hear her say something like:

“You can’t do this to me.”

Is she fucking kidding right now?

“Scarlett, you gotta let me go!” She shakes her head frantically and traps me with her body, you can feel her breath against your face. It almost made you feel uncomfortable but that feeling of attachment was still there.

“Baby, don’t do this to me,” You can hear her voice break and hold your neck with other had; still shaking her head. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you for months, I thought about how awful I was to you and I blame myself for it. I just can’t see you with anyone else and it breaks my heart seeing you not in my arms.”

She breathes and leans her forehead to yours, the closeness between you two gets too intense and awkward that you start to feel the overwhelming tears in your eyes. Why? Because you know you will fall back to your ex-wife no matter what the circumstances are.

“I love you, I’ve always loved you. I can’t stop loving you, Y/N!”

“But you have to,” You replied weakly and gripped on her shirt to have a complete balance over your body because, at any given moment, you’ll collapse. “Please, you have to stop. I love Lizzie.”

“But do you love her more than me?” She whispers hotly and kisses my forehead, making me shiver. “Does she make you feel safe within seconds?” Yes, she does. “Does she make you come as I do? Make you scream into oblivion?” I don’t know, maybe. “Can she make love to you the way I know how?”

“You have to stop!”

“Answer me first, then I’ll let you go. Come on, sweetheart. Tell me right now that you love her more than me.”

As soon as you’re about to answer her, a knock muffled through the door.

“Is someone in here? I need to use the bathroom.”

You pushed your ex-wife away and instantly opened the door, running away from the scene that you were gratifyingly pulled into. You sat back with Elizabeth who was invested with Chris’ story which made you sigh in relief, I don’t have to tell about what happened until we go home, I just need to survive throughout this disaster.

When it was time to go home, you pulled Elizabeth into you and walked out of the restaurant with no hesitation, if you see your ex-wife again, you just don’t know what to do to yourself. Because there was still some sort of feelings that you have for her, and it cannot go on. You love Elizabeth, Elizabeth is good to you. She has treated you better than Scarlett did.

But what if Scarlett did change? That she has learned to become a better person and comes back courting you again? You shrugged in annoyance and Elizabeth halted.

“Are you okay? You haven’t spoken much awhile ago.”

“Yeah,” You muttered and she pulls you into an embrace that seemingly calmed your body – but definitely not your mind. “I guess I am.”

She replied, “Maybe that dinner with them was a bad idea, do you want to get some fast-food chain? My treat, as always.”

She’s better for you. Don’t let Scarlett deceive you. You’re better than this.

“That would be nice, I want some Big Mac!”

She laughs at your cute act and hugs you tighter, walking back to her car. She said: “Alright Sweetheart, let’s go.”

Please god, please help me to stop this feeling for her.

-------

“That was so fucking stupid of me,” Scarlett muttered as she takes her coat from the hooks in the hallway. Chris sighed, dropping his keys on the side table, and followed his best friend.

“Scarlett, I do think you should let her go.”

Now he hears his friend scoff and turns around, pointing at him as if she’s threatening Chris.

“She’s mine. She belongs to me, how is she not with me?!”

“Ask yourself that again and maybe you’ll get an answer,” He talked back irritatingly and turned around, not wanting to see a fit that Scarlett will make. The woman lets out a sarcastic laugh and throws her phone against the couch.

“I can’t see her with Elizabeth, I just can’t. In fact, I can’t see her with anyone else! If I wasn’t so fucking stupid and neglected her then maybe I would’ve been loyal! God–” She feels her chest being painful and starts to have a hard time breathing. She sat on the couch and tries to breathe, her chest getting tighter and tighter.

“You have to calm down, Scarlett,” He comes back with a tall glass of water and offers it to her. The woman takes a huge gulp and leans against the soft couch, sighing deeply.

She finally realizes how fucked up a person is and how she let her stupidity ruin a marriage that was supposed to last a life-time.

“It hurts, Chris. It hurts seeing her with someone else.”

“I know.” He replied, nodding to the way his friend spoke with so many emotions.

“There’s no way for me to get her back, none. She’s gone in my hands forever, and it’s completely my fault. Everything is my fault, I lost the love of my life. It’s all my fault.”

Her friend did nothing but wrapped his big arms around the woman, as she cried against his chest hysterically. He soothes her back and felt his shirt getting damped from her tears. But he didn’t care, not right now. Scarlett needs him and seeing a woman who’s so heartbroken wrecks his entire body.

“Let it all out, Scarlett. It’s okay, I’m here.”

And she mourned for someone who slipped out their hands.

-------

THE NEW YORK TIMES:

It looks like Elizabeth Olsen and Y/L/N are getting steamy at a private resort in California! The two pairs were caught “making out” on a bench. The 33-year-old actress seems to be having fun devouring the ex-wife of Scarlett Johansson, who hasn’t been seen in a while. Though, we will watch her at the Oscars Tonight, with her date Florence Pugh.

It gets juicer when Elizabeth Olsen comes to attend, will we see the two interact about Scarlett’s ex-wife?

“Are you sure you don’t want to go with me?” Elizabeth was also attending the event tonight with Scarlett, but you know she does not plan on making a conversation with her – which gives you a sigh of relief.

“I’m good, Lizzie. I’ll see you at home, yeah?”

“Mhm,” She presses her lips against yours and pulls away with a smirk. “Maybe I can get my dessert when I come back?”

You laughed humoredly as she hide your naked body in front of hers. “We’ll see, Olsen.”

She left you with kisses that you couldn’t seem to count enough and left for the event, leaving you all alone at the big house. Although you don’t mind the silence, you embrace it even. It’s something that you need at the moment due to the chaotic situation that happened last night, you just want to stay out of the spotlight even though you weren’t some actress.

You hear a call from your phone and immediately thought of Elizabeth calling you, but as soon as you saw your screen – it was an unknown number.

You picked up, saying: “Hello, who’s this?”

“I love you. Please know that.”

You here a long beeping sound and looked strangely at your phone, although you already knew who it was. Scarlett Johansson, of course, but why would she call you?

Oh god.

The bathroom.

Fuck!

#scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson angst #scarlett johansson x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha angst #natasha romanoff #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #angst #angst prompt #wlw blog #smut #rwylmstory

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definitelynotafurinasimp · 2 years

Note

okay here me out author-san, this prompt "when was the last time you said you loved me, and meant it?" with yae and ningguang??? if that's fine that is

"When was the last time you said you loved me, and meant it?"

characters: Yae Miko/Ningguang x gn!reader (seperate)

warnings: angst, mentions of cheating

a/n: This prompt looks like an angst one, so I hope that it actually is one. The Yae part is inspired by this post (please check it out, they did a much better job at it than I ever could).

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Yae Miko

You had known Yae’s hobby to toy with people as if they were nothing more than things to entertain herself with, but you still fell for her. Like the idiot that you were you thought that this time she might be serious with her flirts, even though you had seen how she did the same with a few people prior to you. And once her archon returned from her self-imposed exile, she was ready to discard you just like the others.

And while you would have loved to mask your sadness with the frustration and anger you were feeling, so to not give her the satisfaction of seeing you break, you failed all the way, instead trying to save face by fighting the tears threatening to pour down your cheeks.

“Understood. May I ask one last question?”, you asked, feeling too afraid to talk for any longer, so to not possibly let her hear your voice break. The only answer you got from her was a small nod, before you continued.

“Was there ever a time you said you loved me, and actually meant it?”, you both already knew the answer before Yae even said anything, but you still wanted to hear it from her. But when she eventually firmly shook her head, you couldn’t hold all your tears back anymore, quickly wiping them away. You wanted to scream at her, say terrible things that could at least dish out a fraction of the emotional pain she put you through, but at the end of the day, you knew that she wouldn’t care.

“Fine, enjoy spending the rest of eternity with your Archon and farewell.”

Ningguang

You had often heard what people told you about Ningguang, you were often told that she cared about money, and money only. But that didn’t stop you from still trying to win her heart. And you seemed to have success at it, you both spend many evenings together, just talking about everything that came to your minds, but with time those shared moments became less and less. She told you that she had to work longer to rebuild the jade chamber and you blindly believed her. After all she had no reason to lie to you. But when you saw her together with the captain of the Crux, doing things that had nothing to do with work, you decided to confront her.

When you first entered Ningguangs office, she thought you wanted to talk once again. But from the moment she saw the look on your face and the tenseness in your body, she knew what it was really about. With every sentence that came out of your mouth, you became more emotional, but Ningguang remained silent, not showing any sign of compassion, and instead looking like the proud self, she always was.

“When was the last time you said you loved me, and meant it?”, you asked, already feeling how sore your throat had become from all your shouting and thus deciding to calm down a little. Instead of giving you an answer, Ningguang stared at you, and when you returned it you noticed her mask finally having gotten cracks, through which her real emotions were showing. But she still refused to answer you question and so you turned around and marched to the door, only to stop for a moment when you heard her voice call out your name in a vulnerable tone you had never heard her talk before. But she had missed her chance to defend herself and so you finally marched out of her office.

Over the next couple of weeks, Ningguang would send you one letter after another, essentially begging you to give her a chance to talk things out with you. But they would always be sent back to her. Never showing any signs of ever being opened.

#genshin x y/n #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #yae miko #yae miko x reader #ningguang #ningguang x reader

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queenshelby · 3 years

Text

My Friend’s Father (Part Five)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Mild Sexual References

Words: 1,848

Notes:

I have decided to make this into a series.

Alright, no judgment. This was a dream of mine and I felt like I had to write it down. Everyone in this Fic is over the age of 18 and this Fic is in no way based on Cillian’s real family life. It’s pure filth.

*************************

YOUR POV

Two weeks had passed since you visited your friend Denise in Dublin and it was time for the annual Galway Arts Festival.

Denise had been working on a photography project for the past year and had been nominated for a student award in Galway as part of which ten of her photographs were being displayed during the Arts Festival.

Whilst, as you had expected, Cillian didn’t contact you, you knew that he would be there to support his daughter. Being an artist himself, he was very proud of her and her work and he supported her projects not only mentally but also financially with the caveat that she would finish her degree at Trinity College.

Unlike him, he didn’t want her to drop out of university even though she hated it and you certainly understood his reasoning.

Contrary to Denise, you had no creative bone in your body. You enjoyed art and theatre, but weren’t an artist or performer yourself. Instead, you were an A Grade Law Student who had become rather bored in Galway and had recently applied for a scholarship to Oxford University.

Reading was your passion and you had always been known as a geek. In school, you were the girl that no one liked, nerdy, not interested in fashion or social media and wearing braces, which, luckily, had been removed three years ago.

You were shy and it was only for Denise that you came out of your shell. She was popular in school, mostly due to her name, but also because she was generally confident and, over the years, she helped you gain confidence especially after you had left high school.

But, today, you knew you would be questioning your gained confidence once again since, first of all, you would be seeing Cillian again and the truth was that you couldn’t stop thinking about him in an intimate way and, secondly, you were featured completely naked on some of Denise’s photographs.

Whilst the photographs were artistic and not sexual in any way and your most intimate part wasn’t visible on them, it bothered you knowing that people you disliked would see you so vulnerable and you couldn’t remember why you had agreed to being photographed like that.

The other woman who Denise chose to photograph was Amalie. She was 23 and had been Denise’s friend for a while as well but, unlike you, she began modelling professionally when she was just 16. You all went to the same private school together and, clearly, her lifestyle had been largely financed by her parents. She always wore expensive clothes and had no interest in pursuing a career other than modelling, which barely sustained her lifestyle considering the few small jobs she got.

***

Just as you served your last cup of coffee to an elderly lady sitting in the corner of the café you were working at, you saw Denise, Amalie and two other friends of Denise walk in.

‘Hey guys, take a seat. I will be right with you. I am just about to finish my shift’ you said as you hung up your apron.

‘Please tell me you will get changed before the Gallery opening tonight?’ Amalie asked somewhat weirdly and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you sat down at the table with her, Denise and the others before ordering some coffees for yourselves.

‘No, I thought I would go like this’ you said sarcastically, looking down at your coffee-stained clothes.

‘I bought a dress for tonight’ you then said, after Amalie didn’t seem to sense your sarcasm.

‘Right’ she then said as she flicked through Instagram and you simply looked at Denise who shrug her shoulders.

‘What are you looking for?’ you asked curiously as her eyes seemed to be glued to her phone.

‘She is looking to find more photos of my dad and Laura Jennings’ Denise said, rolling her eyes.

‘Laura Jennings, as in the actress?’ you asked, causing Amalie to nod.

‘Yes, apparently they have been dating’ Amalie then confirmed, causing you to swallow harshly. You knew that you shouldn’t care but you couldn’t help it. Knowing that Cillian was seeing someone made you feel ill.

‘And you care about that why?’ you then asked Amalie after an uncomfortable shiver ran down your spine.

‘Apparently, just like you, Amalie thinks my dad is a DILF’ Denise huffed out before telling you how disgusting you all were.

‘Well, he is though…he is super hot’ Amalie then joked before carrying on. ‘And I don’t understand how you don’t know about Laura Jennings and whether this is true or not. You need to find out’ Amalie then said but Denise simply shook her head.

‘My father doesn’t share this sort of stuff with me and I certainly don’t want to know about his sex life, thank you very much. In so far as I am concerned, he doesn’t have sex, ever…yuck! Also, I would appreciate if you could not talk about my dad anymore, please. It grosses me out’ Denise said and you knew that, all of this had become a common occurrence ever since the day the first episode of Peaky Blinders aired on BBC, a show which Denise refuses to watch herself because of the heavy sexual content and a show which you, only a week ago, had begun to binge watch.

Cillian’s POV

When Cillian walked into the basement after you had left, he immediately saw the small folded up note you had left him but, reading it, made him somewhat uncomfortable.

He was torn about what to do with it and certainly knew that he should ignore it. He couldn’t see you again even if he wanted to.

The fact that you were 23 years younger than him and that you were his daughter’s best friend made it all wrong and highly inappropriate and he didn’t know what had gotten into him in the first place when he gave into you.

He had never felt attracted towards you in any sort of way until that last visit which was the first time had seen you since you and your family had moved away.

You changed in many ways and he wasn’t sure what it was that he liked about you. But what he knew was that it was more than just sexual attraction, which was usually something he knew how to supress.

With that in mind, he placed your note into his wallet and decided to ignore it for now. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to throw it out.

***

With his bags packed it was time for him to return to Manchester and resume filming of the final season of Peaky Blinders.

The first week of filming went well and Cillian decided to spend the weekend with his friend, fellow actress Laura Jennings. Cillian and her had developed a friend with benefits sort of relationship. No strings attached and no feelings involved. After his divorce from Denise’s mother, he wasn’t ready for anything else and Laura would certainly not have been the type of woman he would have wanted a relationship with in the first place.

Unlike him, she wasn’t press shy and, whilst they kept their arrangement a secret as best as they could, she was otherwise quite active on social media.

Cillian, on the other hand, only maintained a private Instagram account with the sole purpose of being able to check on his children. Whilst they were adults, he was still worried about them, especially Denise who had recently gotten herself in a lot of trouble after distancing herself from this Jeremy boy.

***

‘Another wine?’ Laura asked as Cillian was relaxing on top of the doonas, wearing nothing but his black Calvin Klein briefs, after they had spent the last hour doing exactly what friends with benefits would do after not having seen each other for over two weeks due to busy filming schedules.

‘Yes please…thanks’ he responded as he reached for his phone after a notification had popped up.

It was his daughter Denise who had posted on Instagram and, since she hadn’t posted for a while, he decided to check it out, hoping that she wasn’t with Jeremy again.

To his surprise, three new pictures of Denise and her friends showed up when he opened the APP and, one of them, there was you.

In the picture, you were wearing accompanied by a man in his late twenties, wearing a suit while you were wearing a dark blue dress and he couldn’t help but wonder who the man by your side was.

You looked simply stunning, with your hair long and open and your shoulders exposed. You were wearing only a little bit of make up and showed your beautiful smile.

‘There you go Mr Murphy’ Laura then said as she returned to the bedroom with another glass of wine, pulling Cillian’s phone out of his hand and climbing on top of him.

‘Round Two?’ she then asked eagerly as she reached for another condom, but Cillian’s thoughts were elsewhere entirely.

‘Maybe tomorrow, I am tired. It has been a long week, sorry’ he explained, causing Laura to pout with disappointment.

But the second round never eventuated as Cillian left Laura’s house the following morning to drive back to Manchester to resume filming.

On his way back to Manchester, he called his daughter Denise to check on her and while he did, he enquired about your companion on the Instagram posts.

‘Why do you want to know?’ Denise asked somewhat confused but Cillian played it cool.

‘He looks familiar, that’s all. Didn’t he go to your school?’ he then asked, playing dumb.

‘Oh god no, he is 29. His name is Connor and he is an accountant. Y/N wouldn’t date anyone our age. You know she isn’t a normal 21-year-old’ Denise joked, referring to your nerdiness and intellect.

‘Apparently not’ Cillian chuckled before asking another question about the stranger on the picture. ‘So, they are dating?’ he asked.

‘I think they went on two or three dates or something. Why do you care?’ Denise asked.

‘No reason. I was just wondering’ Cillian confirmed before changing the topic.

Tag List:

@lilymurphy03@deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-your-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15 @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r @tellingyouastory @captivatedbycillianmurphy @namelesslosers @littlewhiterose @ttzamara @ttzamara @cilleveryone

@peaky-cillian

@severewobblerlightdragon @ysmmsy

#cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you

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keijislove · 3 years

Note

Hi babe! I was wondering if I could request a Tony Stark x daughter reader? With lots of angst and her being locked in her room because she’s being bullied for her darker skin

(I understand if you’re not comfortable with this)

Safe Place: Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader

I think this turned out a bit longer than I expected.

Sorry :(

I hope you like this, I don’t really have a lot of experience with this matter, so I hope I captured the emotions right!

I AM APOLOGISING IN ADVANCE, THE HURTFUL COMMENTS MENTIONED HERE ARE NOT ONES I WOULD EVER USE IN MY LIFETIME.

GIRL, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL JUST THE WAY YOU ARE – YOU DON’T NEED DIMWITS LIKE RACISTS TO DEFINE BEAUTY. YOU WANT THE DEFINITION OF BEAUTY, GO LOOK IN THE MIRROR.

PUT A STOP TO RACISM.

WARNINGS: Slight EXTREMELY racial comments, mentions of death, toxic relationship, angst, Tony being a little... well, Tony.

Being Tony Stark’s daughter was nearly everyone’s dream. Well, everyone you’d come across at school, anyway. It seemed rational from their point of view – big house, big bedroom, expensive branded clothing, basically an overall exquisite lifestyle coupled with fame of being his daughter which was sure to earn popularity points anywhere and everywhere. A man rolling in that amount of money would make a great dad... right?

You thought differently. Which was one of the main reasons you did not tell anyone who your father really was and your teachers understood your predicament and played along to your story of being an ordinary girl with no scope for coolness whatsoever.

Your mother had met your father a long, long time ago – when Tony was still in university. Of course, he’d left her before he even knew she was pregnant, and they never saw each other again. You didn’t exactly love your life as his daughter. In fact, from what your mother had told you, he was (in your vision) a complete monster whom your mother had the sad misfortune to meet.

It was her untimely death that had forced you to go live with the man who was the reason you were born and the man who ruthlessly left your mother to fend for herself and a baby. You had tried for foster care, but the agents told you that your father was still alive and more than capable of taking care of you – being the famous Tony Stark and all.

So it would suffice to say that Tony was lowkey shocked when you turned up at his doorstep one day with a grudging expression and declarations of being his daughter. He actually didn’t believe you at first and asked you to piss off which confirmed your earlier assumptions about his character – asshole. After you’d snapped at him and showed him all the legal documentations stating that you two were blood-related as father-daughter after all, Tony was even more shocked than earlier.

Though he would rather die than admit it, he felt sad after seeing your fourteen-year-old self standing at his doorstep. He’d missed your birth, your first steps, your first words, he even missed helping you with homework in preschool – basically all precious moments you enjoy with a child. But you made it pretty clear that you didn’t want to be here – something that made Tony’s already overlarge pride swell like a bullfrog and stopped him from ever getting close to you. While you were busy thinking he didn’t want you, you overlooked a small detail – he took you in.

If anyone had the power to bribe an adoption agency to get rid of their kid, it was Anthony Stark, yet he never gave you away. The simple explanation (that he would never, in a million years, admit it to you) was that he didn’t want to lose you – around the only blood-related family he had left.

And so began your life as Y/N Stark. It functioned surprisingly well for your expectations. Pepper was really nice to you and those few occasions when the Avengers came over, you were able to talk to Natasha about ‘girl things’, her presence reminding you of the mother you had lost only too young. You sometimes even asked Bruce for help with homework, too proud yourself to go to Tony. Overall, you stayed out of his way while he stayed out of yours – an arrangement you were both satisfied with.

The worst part was that you never talked. Ever. You would wake up and walk to school, refusing Jarvis’ continued protests of letting you use the self-driving car, came home the same way where you did your homework and grabbed a snack before you ‘father’ came back upstairs from his little man cave in the basement and a small ‘good-evening’ passed between you two as you went your separate ways. This cycle repeated itself every day. Recently, your life at school hadn’t been going great.

You’d known that your skin tone was a notch darker than the others at your school – something you had gotten from your mother – and this was not something you really cared about. That’s when they started coming – the comments. What were originally small, snide retorts of ‘wash your face, ew!’ (A/N: I AM SO SORRY) had now escalated to them calling you obscene names you’d never heard before and asking you to leave ‘their’ school

Which was why, instead of being at school today, you were locked in your bedroom, sobbing into your pillow.

It had started out as a very unusual morning. After getting comments hurled at you left right and centre the previous day, you’d had enough. You’d woken up and declared to Jarvis that you were skipping school and he was to, under no circumstances, notify your father about this. After that you tried to eat some cereal, but the bubbling dread in your stomach made it taste like dry carpet, so you gave up and stomped into your room, locking the door before flinging yourself onto the bed and crying your heart out.

It was in times like these that you felt the need for something – a gaping hole in your chest. It seemed foolish to even admit it to yourself, but you really wanted someone like a parent. Someone who listened to your problems and comforted you accordingly, someone who actually cared about you. And since Tony Stark filled neither of these requirements, you gave up the foolish dream and sunk, once again, into your self-fashioned depths of misery.

-------

Tony casually sipped on his wine, putting one last screw into place to make the latest piece he was testing out. As he powered the device on, it vibrated for a moment before the words ‘model failed’ appeared on the screen Tony was examining.

He swore loudly and shoved it ungracefully aside before running his hands through his hair. There had been many an occasion where Tony seriously considered going to your room to just say something to you that wasn’t a monotonous ‘good evening’ or ‘the milk’s finished’ or something else like that. He wanted to talk to you. To you.

He wanted to get to know the real Y/N – what you were like when you weren’t too busy being bold and refusing to appear vulnerable. As if reading his thoughts, Jarvis’ voice filled the room suddenly.

“Sir, I do believe that Ms Stark is currently locked inside her bedroom. She refused to go to school just this morning.”

“What?” Tony exclaimed, “Why, did she tell you anything else?”

“Just this, Sir, along with a few obscene warnings of not informing you about this occurrence. If I recall correctly, Ms Stark told me she would rip out my sockets with her bare hands had I come to you.”

Ignoring the small smirk that was growing on his lips at the thought of you behaving exactly as he would, Tony wiped his tired hands on a nearby cloth before sprinting out the door and up the stairs to your bedroom.

He knocked on the door.

“Go away Pepper, not in the mood,” came your muffled voice. It was weak and raw – evidently, you had been crying.

Ignoring the poking feeling of dread bubbling in his stomach, Tony knocked again.

“Open up, kid, it’s me,” he shouted.

“Definitely not in the mood, thanks.”

Tony sighed. This was exactly what he had tried so hard to avoid –turning out like his own father. Not knowing how to deal with a daughter properly, he just let you go about your business as you wanted, hoping that it would yield better results than what his childhood had been like. Now, looking back at how much he’d neglected you, he suddenly realised that he had done the exact thing he was afraid of – hurt you.

“Y/N Y/M/N Stark, open the door. Please.”

Perhaps it was the please at the end or the way he acknowledged you as his living, breathing daughter for the first time that made you stagger limply over to the door and push it open.

Your eyes were puffy, red and swollen from bawling nonstop and your brows were knitted into a disapproving frown. It broke Tony’s heart to see you like this.

“Listening,” you sniffed, crossing your arms.

“Okay, why don’t you sit down,” Tony frowned slightly.

You gave another hearty sniff and led him to your bed where you flopped down and watched as he took a seat beside you.

You both sat in a very painful, deafening silence for the next few minutes.

“You didn’t go to school today,” Tony casually remarked as you played with your pillow, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I did,” you said simply.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Tony offered.

“I really don’t,” you admitted as he burst out laughing and you gave a grudging giggle despite yourself.

“Seriously, kid,” Tony said in an undertone, “You’ve gotta open up a bit more. I mean, it’s been like what, two years since you moved here and you never bother telling me what’s going on. And look where that got you – come on, tell me what’s going on. Is it school?”

“Partially,” you quietly said to which he cocked an eyebrow.

“Completely,” you amended, sighing, “Kids, you know, they’re just being – well, mean.”

“Okay,” Tony nodded slightly, “You want to talk about it?”

“They... they make fun of me,” you admitted, “About – about my skin colour and stuff. And I know I’m being stupid, getting upset over this –”

“It’s not stupid,” Tony broke in, “It’s not stupid at all. Nothing gives anyone a right to talk to you that way.”

“Try telling that to them!” you burst out, final letting go of the pent-up emotions you’d been holding for days, “What did I ever do to them – it’s not my fault I look like this, maybe if I could choose what to look like, I’d choose something they want! Just about everyone seems to have a problem – what the hell do they expect me to do? It’s unjust, unfair, unsettling and unkind, but of course they don’t care, do they?!”

Tony didn’t even flinch throughout your entire outburst until you broke down and tears began rapidly pouring out of your eyes once more.

“Hey, hey, stop, listen to me,” Tony sternly said, seizing your shoulders and turning you to face him.

“You’re a Stark,” he said, gazing you dead in the eyes, “You are beautiful, you’re smart and you’re kind. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

This was too much for you to handle and you started sobbing again – sobs of partial happiness and partial guilt that didn’t look like they would stop anytime soon.

“Come here, kid,” was all Tony could say as he pulled you into a hug, allowing you to sob into his shirt while he stroked your hair, trying to calm you down.

“I’m sorry if I’ve ever been mean to you,” you whispered finally.

“It’s okay, kid,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’m sorry I haven’t been a great father all this time.”

You two sat in a now comfortable silence, occasionally clearing your throats or sniffling a bit before Tony finally spoke.

“If anyone says that to you again, I will have them cut up and fed to the fish in my house in Malibu.”

“Thanks, dad.”

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chainofclovers · 3 years

Text

Ted Lasso 2x10 thoughts

GOOD GOD.

“No Weddings and a Funeral” is like being hungover but also coming out of a hangover. Having a terrible cold but also feeling better and appreciating every breath that comes through your nose. Embarking on an organizational project and accidentally falling into a photo album and crying about the pictures and organizing almost nothing tangible but making a few things more clear in your brain.

So much of this episode is about the AWFUL POINTLESSNESS OF DECORUM. How loud is too loud when you’re drinking stolen wine and shrieking about sex in a church right before your father’s funeral? How should you feel--thirty years later, as an accommodating, anger-averse person--about having been too angry to attend the funeral for your father who killed himself? What expression should you make when you show up really late to a different funeral? Why must you wear uncomfortable shoes just because someone died? What happens in your mind between standing up to give a eulogy for a man you’re still angry with and choosing to Rick Roll your mom and everyone else as an act of complicated love, humiliatingly incomplete until someone else starts to sing? Should you worry about your therapist seeing your normally tidy flat in a full-on state of depression mess? Is it okay to be offended that your boyfriend is so uncomfortable about death that he can’t stop making morbid jokes? Should you care about other people caring that you’re crunching an apple in church or squealing with joy to be reunited with a friend you’ve not seen in awhile? Are you obligated to explain your behavior if your kid doesn’t understand how you could stay with someone unfaithful? How far behind the counter should you sink when your [undefined relationship person]’s mother has just let you know she can see your dick through your underwear? Is a funeral reception an okay place to find a hookup? Is a funeral reception a decent spot for a break-up? Is a funeral reception a good time for a love confession when you know the person you’re confessing to is happy with someone else? And who do you make eye contact with when you can’t look directly at the person asking you if you’re okay when there’s so, so much about you she doesn’t know yet? Even if--for this tiny little moment within a vast swath of many okay and not-okay moments--you’re honest when you tell her that you are?

I fucking adored this episode because it answers all these questions very simply: Show up. Show up for yourself. Show up for your friends. Try not to harm yourself. Try not to harm your friends.

I love that this episode is about the messiness of adulthood and the things we bring with us from childhood and that it takes place partially in Rebecca’s childhood bedroom, and in Ted’s childhood memories. Dwelling in those places (whether physically or mentally) isn’t an automatic recipe for regression, but it does get everyone closer to the things that made them who they are, to the unresolved and half-buried parts of them that still make them tick today.

Forever obsessed with every single detail about Rebecca’s childhood bedroom.

Forever obsessed with Deborah’s decision to Rick Roll herself every single morning of her life.

Forever obsessed with Rebecca’s decision to Rick Roll her father’s funeral as a way to not have to make up a single word about her father and to do something very vulnerable and kind for herself and her mother and everyone.

Forever obsessed with Ted’s decision to Rick Roll Rebecca Rick Rolling her father’s funeral.

Forever obsessed with an entire found family backing it up.

I love that it is Isaac’s leadership that ensures every single member of the team attends the service for Paul.

I am very, very interested in Jamie’s love confession to Keeley because I do think it will spark some reflection in Keeley but I do not think it’ll go the cliched love triangle route.

Each scene with Rebecca and Sam struck (for me, a human being sharing a subjective perspective on the internet) the tender-awkward-beautiful-stressful chord I was hoping it would. I think it’s wonderful that Sam is honest with Rebecca about how difficult it is to keep their relationship a secret, and I love that Rebecca has a million mostly-unarticulated reasons for why she’d much prefer the secret to continue. I like that Sassy, Keeley, and Nora respond to the revelation as friends; they might be tempering their judgments in part because they’ve all gathered to bury Rebecca’s dad, but I don’t think their reactions would’ve been that different even on a happier occasion.

While there are a million and one different reasons why a continued relationship between Rebecca and Sam could cause serious ethical problems, I really love that when people share big news on this show, the people who care about them generally react by trying to see why the person is doing what they’re doing. Doesn’t mean they shouldn’t also hold each other accountable, but in my book it’s OK that Keeley’s first reaction was to feel happy that her friend is having some fun.

Also everyone has been making weird judgment calls this season, and this episode felt like a moment of real breakthroughs in terms of people telling the truth about things that happened to them and leaving themselves open to honest responses from others.

September 13, 1991. It’s so tenderly, beautifully, overwhelmingly meaningful that there’s still so much Ted and Rebecca don’t know about the things they have in common in these parallel lives they’re leading. The scene between Sarah Niles and Jason Sudeikis is so beautifully acted, and so is the scene between Hannah Waddingham and Harriet Walter. The way they intertwine to communicate that Ted and Rebecca basically lost the ability to trust their fathers simultaneously, from an ocean away? In the hands of lesser storytellers, it would feel too perfect a mirroring, but here it feels heartbreakingly imperfect. All the things they still don’t know. All the questions they try to ask each other. All the things they don’t dare ask yet. And then the storytellers are holding a candle up to all of it and letting the audience bask in the glow of this connection even if Ted and Rebecca can’t fully understand it yet.

I am so proud that Rebecca and Deborah were able to embark on the beginnings of a conversation about the ways Deborah and Paul’s relationship might have resembled or not resembled Rebecca and Rupert’s. It feels possible that they could get to a point where Rebecca truly internalizes her mother’s pride that she broke a cycle by leaving Rupert, and could maybe even understand why her mother made the choices she made. I love that in the final scene, they’re still relying on their old mother-daughter conversational patterns—the frustrations, the snippy shorthand, the passive-aggression. Mothers and daughters!

I am also proud that Ted—albeit via a joke about Sharon charging him for the house call—indicates that he understands the value of Sharon’s work. He’s changed a lot, all in realistic ways for someone who loves learning and really does want to meet people where they are and appreciate them. I’m very moved that instead of putting himself in a real harmful situation by showing up to the funeral on time at any cost, he did what he needed to do to take care of himself and accept care from someone else. And then Sharon’s suggestion that he think about things he loved about his father? And the way he’s able to share a positive memory of Rebecca’s own father at a time when she really needed it? Gosh.

Awkward, undecorous transition from 1991 to present-day incoming...but SASSY! She’s just, like, a whirling dervish of loyal friendship and not giving a fuck and penis size discussions and being casually, delightfully cruel to Rupert, who so deserves it. Rebecca was going on a real face journey when Sassy goes off with Ted at the end, and I’m sort of *eyes emoji* about all of that, but I continue to feel like Sassy is the most imperfectly wonderful friend-from-the-past kind of person and I love everything she and Nora get to do in this episode.

Keeley saying “That baby is whack” might be my favorite line in the episode? Maybe the whole show? Not really but really.

FUCK YOU, RUPERT. Bex and Diane, y’all are fine. And I truly feel for Nate...whatever scheme he’s getting suckered into. Whatever insecurity Rupert is preying on. I want Nate to go to therapy, too.

I feel like it was an unpopular opinion at the time, but I loved Rebecca’s 2x1 revelation about vulnerability and fear of getting hurt and needing to let someone love her. Sassy doesn’t always word things in the most nuanced way, but I think there’s a real possibility that she did ask Rebecca to really consider what it means to feel either safe or unsafe with a person but to know that in either circumstance, that person could end up causing her pain. Standing in that closet with Sam, managing to make it clear that she’s not asking for a break because she knows he will hurt her but because she has to figure out how to be with a wonderful person who could cause her pain...the growth, man. Makes me emotional.

I emerged from this episode feeling, of course, stunned by all the amazing parallels and revelations and beautiful acting and Rick Rolls and just, everything. I also emerged feeling sad/raw/tender because messiness and decorum and growth and coping mechanisms and death and dramatic irony and not knowing things about people and not knowing what you don’t know...it’s a sad, raw, tender place to be.

To quote a guy who got a whole sitcom (lol) named after him, life is real hard.

#ted lasso #ted lasso s2 spoilers #meta by me #ted lasso 2x10 #a lesbian watches ted lasso #lotta feelings in here y'all #cw suicide

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ilyrafe · 3 years

Text

𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒚 ✧ 𝒄𝒉 𝑽

pairing: charles brandon x duchess!reader

warnings: angst, a brief panic attack, forced kiss.

word count: 3,2k

taglist: @runawayolives @kmuir1 @marytudorbrandon @lharrietg @shittingdicknipple @alexa-fangirl-forever @mis-lil-red @amberangel112 @ohmygoodie @itmejado @radaofrivia @scarlets-widow @ragamuffin285 @thereisa8ella @titty-teetee @dropletsofkaisoo

a/n: shit goes down from now on just saying..........

redamancy masterlist | main masterlist

his guilt and conscience do not allow him to fall asleep and rest in his bed. if he wants to be civil and reciprocally, he needs to recognize when he is in the wrong and apologize. she didn’t do anything wrong, he shouldn’t have set such high expectations.

he puts on his robe and goes to the duchess’s chambers. strangely, he thinks it is a good thing that her room is far from his, just so he has time to think of the right words. it’s not the first time he’s been intimidated in her presence, and stuttering in front of her seems pathetic.

he takes a deep breath and knocks three times on the door. to his surprise, beatrice answers the door.

“your grace.” she bows to the duke.

as he steps into her room, he smells roses and cinnamon, a different combination of scents, but just as pleasant. he can’t help but look into the duchess’s main environment, which is lit by candles in certain places. there are books everywhere and flowers from the garden that he recognizes. her dressing table has few items, just a small jewelry box, a brush, and a few hairpins, but her desk has lots of papers and a small leather-bound notebook that looks like a diary. being the curious creature he is, he’s already starting to wonder if she writes about him.

“charles?” y/n’s voice calls out to him, and she looks a little confused as to why he’s in her room in his nightwear.

she runs to put on her robe, even though charles saw her more exposed than usual. sensing her presence is no longer needed, beatrice excuses herself and leaves the duke and the duchess alone. charles mentally thanks the young woman as she leaves, because privacy is what he wants the most right now.

“i owe you an apology.” he starts. “i admit i should not have been rude to you at dinner, i hope you will forgive me. it will not happen again.”

once again, she can hear the sincerity in his voice. perhaps the image she has of charles is twisted. what if she is wrong about him?

“i owe you an apology, too.” she admits.

“what for?”

“for the way i have been treating, or mistreating you these past months.”

seeing her in a position of vulnerability is nearly shocking. it’s not even that much exposure from her, but charles sees her as a tough person, and hearing her words comforts him, because just like her, he feels sincerity and honesty in her apology. more than anyone else, he knows how hard it is to admit when you are in the wrong.

“oh, do not worry. you have your reasons and i understand.”

“even so, i shouldn’t have been such a monster to you.”

“it is all in the past.”

a small smile appears on her lips. apparently a white flag indicating a truce had been raised. charles says goodbye and goes back to his room, no longer feeling the pain in his back as he is always tense in the presence of y/n. his shoulders are relaxed as is his posture. with a smile on his face, charles goes back to his bed and for the first time since he got married, he sleeps peacefully.

(...)

a few weeks have passed, the eighteenth birthday of king henry’s new wife, katherine howard, approaches. the friendship between y/n and charles just blossoms, which makes the duke happier. conversations over dinner gradually linger, and making her laugh is almost a duty he gives to himself. it’s the most pleasant sound, and he finds it adorable when she covers her mouth when she laughs a little louder than usual.

they have a quite a lot in common. contrary to what she assumed, charles is far from arrogant. in fact, he doesn’t seem so fond of so many formalities. the way he talks about his parents, who are sadly deceased, is a little disheartening. he seems to need approval from others constantly, something she can relate to.

little by little, y/n manages to humanize in her own head the man behind the broad, strong body that charles has. there’s a sweetness in his blue eyes that she has been allowing herself to notice.

it’s difficult to get more information about her, though. y/n is very reserved and still prefers to spend most of her time by herself, which bothers him a little, and he still notices a little sadness in her eyes. he’s almost positive that something still disturbs her and he tries to make her feel comfortable enough to open up, but all of his attempts have failed.

give time to time, he keeps reminding himself.

(...)

the birthday party is grand, something the court and guests await. king henry always goes out of his way to show off to his subjects. the royal castle is a dream of gold, the most expensive flowers are everywhere, only the best food is being served, and the guests wear their most sophisticated attire. the king is ecstatic over his sixth wife, he will never spare any effort to make her happy.

the carriages keep arriving and more and more people enter the king’s castle. in one of them is charles and y/n, and both are as well dressed as the others in the royal court. y/n’s dress is stunning, and it’s completely different from the ones she’s ever worn in public. its rich emerald tone compliments her entirely, and the pearls in her hair soften her youthful appearance. charles is as well groomed as she is, but he opted for a monochromatic black attire, which makes him look even more imposing. regardless, they look complementary to each other.

“do not be surprised if male attention is focused on you.” he comments with a subtle laugh.

her puzzled expression cheers him a bit. he knows what is said about him and his wife, both the nasty comments and the most lustful ones.

he helps her down from the carriage and, with arms entwined, they enter the royal castle. as they are announced, all eyes turn to the couple. the king, upon seeing his longtime friend, goes to meet him with a proud smile on his face. the duchess’s distaste for the king is clear, but she knows how to hide it, for the sake of etiquette. after greeting each other briefly, charles and y/n follow to the main table, where the king is reunited with his wife.

“oh, you must be y/n!” the queen cheerfully says, properly ditching said etiquette. “your dress is marvelous!”

“thank you, your majesty.” y/n smiles.

the bubbly nature of the queen is pleasant; even charles thinks she’s quite funny with her antics. the age gap between her and the king is quite alarming, but she seems to be what holds him down a bit.

the music is loud, and the guests are all over the ballroom, either dancing or talking. for some reason, y/n feels unquiet. maybe it’s the heat, the loud noises or the constant glares she gets from other women. they don’t even try to hide when they’re obviously gossiping about her. she’s not entirely aware of her ‘fame’, but she knows she’s the subject of many conversations.

enthusiastically, the king taps his cup with silverware, drawing the attention of all the guests.

“first of all, i want to thank you all for coming to my beloved wife’s birthday, your majesty, the queen.” he says and hears applause for the sweet queen katherine. “happy birthday, my love. may the next few years of your life be as beautiful as you are.”

katherine blows her husband a kiss and he raises his wineglass to the guests. everyone raises their glasses and takes a sip, celebrating the queen’s life.

“i wonder how long this marriage is going to last…” charles comments under his breath, only y/n is able to hear, and she chuckles in response.

“i give it a year.”

they exchange a look, and when the music starts to play again, a few of the guests begin to dance in pairs.

“would you grant me a dance?” he asks.

as she looks around, she sees that her attention is focused on the king and queen. a dance won’t do any harm, she thinks.

“of course.”

he takes her to the center of the room by her hand, and soon they stand opposite each other to dance. if his memory serves him, he’s never been this close to her, and he takes this moment as an opportunity to really get a closer look, maybe he notices a new detail on her beautiful face? if he could, he’d spend hours memorizing every detail of y/n, because she’s so stunning, and with every observation she makes—of any subject—she becomes the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

y/n, however, is fighting all of her instincts. she doesn’t quite allow herself to look at charles. even though they are in a peaceful territory, he’s still the man who has been with her friends, he’s still the man who accepted her father’s offer to marry her in exchange for a mere position at the court. she’s certainly noticed his looks, and can’t deny that he isn’t as awful as she made herself to believe, and now she knows he’s an excellent dancer.

he guides her so masterfully and firmly, she feels safe, even though she isn’t very fond of dancing. regardless, he makes it feel pleasant. his eyes doesn’t leave hers for a second, but she looks around every now and then.

that’s when she sees a very familiar face, amidst all these people. one she would recognize anywhere, but the spin of the dance makes her lose sight of the person.

“is everything alright?” charles asks.

“yes…” she replies, toneless.

the dance continues, faster now. small heels mark the final part of the dance, and the noise of several shoes on the floor makes her uncomfortable. who is that person? the rhythm of the music picks up, people are talking loudly, the dance gets more energetic, and all she wants is to recognize that face. it can’t be.

she keeps searching for that face, but there are so many people in that ballroom, it’s pointless. the dance is making her feel a bit nauseous, she even contemplates leaving charles on the dance floor by himself, but when he bows down to her, she realizes the dance is finally over.

finally!

when they return to the main table, henry calls them to introduce them to the duchess of jämtland. even from afar, y/n can see how different the duchess is. pale complexion, light, straight and fine hair, bright blue eyes. she can’t help but compare herself to her. beside the duchess is her husband.

james.

the face she had seen. it’s him.

“charles and y/n, i would like to introduce you to my friends from sweden, your grace annika and her husband, james.” king henry says.

with each step she takes, y/n’s body freezes more and more, her heart beats faster and faster, and her breathing gets shorter and shorter. james is not at all shocked, more like afraid. only he knows the reason for the terror on y/n’s face at that moment, as much as she tries to hide it, he knows her better than anyone else in that room. she cannot move a single finger to greet the duchess and her husband.

“it’s a pleasure to meet you, your grace.” charles says to annika and kisses the back of her hand.

when he turns his attention to james, y/n feels like fainting. as if her two worlds are about to collide.

“this is my longtime friend, charles, the duke of suffolk and his wife, y/n, his duchess.” henry says.

“it is an honor to meet you, your grace.” james says, repeating the same gesture as charles, but now with the woman he once promised to love forever.

y/n is unable to move throughout the entire greeting process, and the situation only gets worse when she notices the annika’s subtle bump, which she doesn’t seem to hide that she is pregnant, as she takes her belly in with her hands.

“they are here to visit my kingdom and james is possibly going to war with us. sweden is our partner against france.” henry informs charles, completely unaware of the history between james and y/n.

“my apologies,” y/n speaks, trying to regain herself. “i’m not-”

“would your grace grant me a dance?” james interrupts.

he looks at charles with a silent request, and the duke looks at his wife.

“she doesn’t require my permission.” charles explains.

“ah, of course! a dance! charles, take annika to dance, james, you take y/n to dance. let’s all dance!” the king shouts, clearly a little inebriated.

everyone gathers in the center of the room and starts dancing. y/n’s hands are shaky and a bit sweaty, and james tries to soothe her with his gaze. he tries to apologize, but knows she will never forgive him. after everything that happened between them… it’s almost impossible to believe it.

“i can explain.” he mumbles.

“don’t.” she simply says.

her odd behavior hasn’t gone unnoticed, though. charles has never seen her so pale before, almost as if she’d seen a ghost. he glances at them, and he knows she’s on the verge of tears. he isn’t dumb — it takes charles less than a few minutes to realize that james is the man y/n claimed to love, months ago. the way they’re looking at each other is more than enough proof.

“y/n, please.”

“she is with child.” y/n’s voice trembles with her own affirmation.

james is heartbroken, more than he was when they saw each other for the last time, over a year ago.

“we can still be together.”

his speech outrages her, and she is forced to withdraw. she runs as fast as she can to the large and vast garden of the castle, and hopes that no one will find her, but charles and james have gone after her, and a small commotion is caused in the hall, which is quickly contained. the poor swedish duchess is left confused.

she feels that the walls are getting tighter and tighter, or maybe it’s the dress that is too tight on her body that doesn’t let her breathe.

breathe.

breathe, y/n.

only when she manages to get out of the castle and into the huge garden is it possible to hear the silence and breathe fresh air, no matter how cold it is. it’s behind a big tree that she finally stops running. her chest is tight, beating faster than ever. it’s all so disappointing and confusing, she just wants it to be over.

she thought she had experienced pain before, but now it’s different. a mixture of hatred and disappointment washes over her like a wave, and she reduces herself to tears. the more she thinks about it, more tears roll down her face and her heart feels tighter.

she hears footsteps approaching, and to her surprise, james finds her. he looks just as haunted as she is, and he’s panting from running so fast to find her.

“my love-”

“no!” she protests. “you betrayed me, james! how could you?!”

“y/n, please…”

“how dare you?!” she inquires through her teeth, not even able to hide her anger. “how dare you come to me with a wife? with a pregnant wife?!”

“you must listen to me, y/n.” he says as he grabs her by her shoulders and forcing her to look at his eyes. “i could not get to you if i did not marry someone... important. i did this for you, my love.”

he pulls her against him and kisses her forcefully, but y/n manages to punch him in the chest and break free of his embrace. she pushes him away and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand harshly.

“don’t you dare touch me.” she barks through gritted teeth, her voice is full of rage. “you went to bed with her for me? how fucking stupid do you think i am, james? don’t you know me at all?!”

unbeknownst to them, charles is near, watching the fight, prepared to attack him if need be, but from what he sees, y/n is able to fend for herself. there’s no doubt he is the man she told him about, and charles can’t deny his jealousy, not even to himself. he’s never seen y/n so heartbroken before, and all of his instincts are telling him to intervene.

“i still love you!” james claims desperately.

“i suggest you leave her alone.” charles says with the calmest tone to his voice.

y/n is only able to breathe when she sees the duke, because he brings her a sensation of security. she’s even able to breathe a little better.

“who do you think you are to talk to me with this tone?” james challenges. “i couldn’t care less if you are her husband, your grace,” he says with a mocking tone. “we all know this is an arrangement. she loves me.”

“i am trying to be peaceful for her sake, but if you insist on testing me, i’ll lose my composure and end you.” the duke threatens, and his tone is as cold as winter nights.

both men are now face to face, close to each other, and the possibility of the fight becoming physical makes her desperate, as the last thing she wants is a scandal.

“both of you, stop! now!” she exclaims as she pushes the two tall, strong men apart. she knows james, and he can certainly be scary. he’s a tall, built man with fighting skills, but it seems that charles is his elevated match. “i will not tolerate a scene.”

“he started it!” james barks.

“stop it!” y/n protests. she regains a bit of control over herself and wipes her tears with the back of her hands. “leave,” she pleads. “we have nothing else to talk about.”

“y/n-”

“james, please! i do not want to see you ever again.”

outraged, james does as she says and leaves, but not before pushing charles with his shoulder on his way out.

“did he hurt you?” charles asks as he cups her face in his hands. the scary look is no longer on his face, as he is now concerned. her teary eyes break him completely. she looks so broken and hopeless.

yes. deeply.

“please, i must go home.” she begs and sniffles, never before having felt so small. “please, i am begging you.”

“yes, absolutely.”

charles takes her in his arms and soothes her before they leave. for the first time, they’re in each other’s arms, and both of them feel complete somehow. in this very moment, charles represents the security she needs, and she is the equivalent of what is missing in his life. the comfort she finds in his embrace is something she didn’t even know could be real. not even in james’ arms she felt such care.

did james care for her at all?

the most heartbreaking thing is that she can feel her love for james turning into absolute hatred and it is terrifying.

“i am here for you, y/n.” charles whispers before placing a kiss on the top of her head.

---

feedback is always appreciated!

#my writings #henry cavill #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfic #the tudors #charles brandon #charles brandon x you #charles brandon x reader #charles brandon fanfic

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