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ddejavvu · 2 years

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Domestic Bliss - Eddie Munson x Reader

WC: 2.2K / navi / preview / request

Summary: Eddie keeps you company during your nightly skincare routine, and it leads to the most domestically intimate moment that you've ever shared with him.

Contents/Warnings: eddie calls reader 'princess' once, otherwise no other mentions of possible gender. tooth-rotting fluff, domestic!eddie and his lovesick smile <333

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You’re filling the sink with warm water when Eddie peers into the bathroom, surveying the mass of products on the counter.

“Woah,” He lets out a breathy chuckle, “What are those?”

“Skincare products.” You pluck your washcloth from the sink, “I’m washing my face.”

You punctuate your sentence by pressing the dripping washcloth to your face, water running down your forearms. It’s messy, but it works, and your face is properly wet for the soap you need to use.

Eddie’s intrigued, by what you’re not sure, but he slips behind you and sits on the lid of the toilet. He watches you as you pump a small dollop of soap into your hand, scrunching your eyes shut before lathering it over your face. You can’t see, your soap dripping slightly into your eyes from how messy the application process was, but you don’t miss much, just more staring from Eddie.

You scrub your nails down your skin, the rough surface of the washcloth not having cleared away enough gunk from the day. It hurts, and you wince slightly as the slashes over your face sting.

You jolt as, from the silence beside you, a soft, high-pitched, ‘boop’ is let out right beside your ear. Eddie is evidently standing behind you, reaching around your front to tap a finger against your sudsy nose. When you rear back out of shock you run into his chest, broad and warm as the soap on your face chills you.

“You scared me,” You breathe, laughing shakily, “You just came out of nowhere.”

“Well if you didn’t get so much soap in your eyes,” Eddie grumbles, dipping a thumb into the water and brushing bubbles away from your lashes, “Maybe you’d be able to see.”

As you’re washing the soap off, once again soaking the counter and your sleeves, he holds something up beside you, “What’s this?”

You can’t see what it is yet, your eyes and mouth dangerously close to getting soap in them. So you stay silent, holding up a single finger.

“‘Looks like a… potion or something,” He muses, and when you finally clear the soap from your face you turn to see him holding up one of your moisturizers. Admittedly, the bottle is oddly-shaped and intricately designed, and it would be something straight out of a fantasy world if it wasn’t filled with lotion.

You giggle softly at his naivety, applying your toner, “Eddie, it’s moisturizer.”

He raises an eyebrow, “And.. what is that?”

“It’s in the name…” Your brows dip in concern, “It.. moisturizes you?”

“Right.” He mutters, gnawing on his lower lip as he looks over the bottle once more, flipping it back and forth in his hands. “Can I have this?” He holds up the bottle, “Not the shit inside. Just, like, the bottle? When you’re done with it?”

You pluck it out of his hands, throwing away the cotton pad that you’d soaked in toner. You dip your finger into the bottle and he watches intently as it comes back up smeared with white lotion, slightly translucent, that you spread over your face.

“I guess,” You shrug, spreading the cream around your face, “I don’t think I’ll run out of it any time soon, but you can have the bottle when I do.

“Thanks, babe.” Eddie grins at you, and even though your eyes are still stinging slightly from the soap, you stare intently at him, drinking in his giddiness.

You tap a dot of the moisturizer on your nose, a dot on your forehead, one for each cheek, and finally your chin. Part of one of the cheek splotches smears towards your nose as you apply it, sloppy coverage from how slippery your hands are.

It makes Eddie snort amusedly, “That kinda looks like-”

“I know what it looks like, Eddie!” You cut him off, desperately trying to avoid his dirty mind. He loves getting you flustered, it’s one of his favorite things, and tonight is no different.

His grin grows, watching you furiously spread the lotion over your face, desperate to clear away any of the visible substance. He stays silent to let you have a little bit of peace, observing you fondly, but when it’s fully rubbed in he pipes back up.

“What’s that?” He cocks his head to the side, his hair bouncing slightly as he does so. You turn the label on the jar around to face him, offering a simple ‘Eye Cream’ as his explanation.

“Eye cream…” Eddie’s nose wrinkles in confusion and slight apprehension, “For, like.. In your eyes?”

“No!” You drag the word out with a giggle, swatting at his hand that’s fiddling with your other beauty products. He’s acting like a kid in a toy shop, holding everything and inspecting it to satiate his curiosity.

“It goes under your eye.” You explain, swiping a dollop of the cream out of the jar and smearing it under both of your eyes, “It helps with dark circles, you just rub it in and-”

Eddie stands abruptly, his hands reaching for your wrists and pulling your hands away from your face. You watch him silently, an eyebrow raised in confusion, but your questions are answered almost immediately.

Eddie’s hands come up to cup your cheeks, his thumbs landing just under your eyes. He slowly starts working the cream into your skin, his tongue poking out in a display of the intense concentration he’s applying to the task at hand. His thumbs are warm against your skin, gentle in their soothing strokes, and you’re certain he’s taking much longer than he needs to. His fingers grow sticky, no longer slick with cream. He seems to realize this, but neither of you want to relinquish the contact, so he stays.

He cups your cheeks so tenderly you can feel the love radiating from him. It’s evident in his eyes, sparkling with wonder. In the soft, lovesick smile on his face that grows the longer his eyes bore into yours. In the warmth radiating through your body the longer he leaves his hands on your cheeks.

You’re sure you’ve never felt more loved. He tells you he loves you every day, almost obsessively. When you leave, when you’re getting dressed in the morning, when you’re making him lunch, when you close your eyes at the end of the night. He shows you he loves you, when he wraps you up in his jacket on a chilly day, when he carries your bags for you, when he makes you dinner (read: tries to make you dinner). You always feel loved, but this is different; it’s suffocating, intimate.

Emotions are oozing from you, sticky sweet as they coat the two of you. You’re sure your eyes are heart-shaped, and the way that Eddie’s looking at you produces the same effect. The contentment that fills your chest, overflowing and spilling out of you while he holds your face, makes you surer than ever that you want to spend the rest of your life with Eddie. You’re in love, helplessly, hopelessly in love, and you know Eddie is too.

You voice your thoughts, even though you weren’t sure there were any words you could use to convey their true depths, “I love you, Eddie.”

“‘Love you too, princess. So fuckin’ much,” He breathes, keeping his voice low and soft so as not to dissolve the intimacy you’re blanketed in, “That.. that doesn’t even cover it. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone else, more than anyone has ever loved anyone else.”

The uncharacteristic romantic monologue from him has your heart impossibly swelling, fit to burst in your chest and beating out of your ribcage.

“I know, Eddie.” You nod, his hands never slipping from your cheeks, “I know, I can feel it. And I feel the same way. You’re.. You’re my everything.”

He lets out a shaky sigh, a hushed, ‘Baby,’ slipping from his lips before he brings you into his chest. Only one of his hands abandons your face, the other still firmly in place as he wraps the first around your waist.

Your eyes drift shut naturally as you nuzzle your free cheek into his chest. The worn material of his hellfire shirt offers the perfect cushion over his chest as you relax into his embrace. It’s silence, it’s serenity, it’s love. He sways you gently back and forth in the cramped bathroom, all concern for the rest of your routine gone as he holds you. A strand or two of his messy hair dips down over his shoulders, hanging in front of your face. It doesn’t tickle you like it usually does, but you reminisce on the times it has as you melt in Eddie’s arms.

Anytime he hovers over you, staring you down fondly, a few loose hairs always make it their business to ghost over your nose. You always chide him for it, berating him for not keeping hair ties on hand, but he claims that his mane is ‘too tough to tame’. A grin grows on your lips as you run through memories in your mind, and he feels it against his palm.

“What’cha smilin’ about, baby?” He queries, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“You.” You supply simply, peering up at him lovingly, “You make me smile.”

The fondness in his gaze is unmatched. He’s looking at you like a treasure, like a priceless gift given to him by the universe itself; a cosmic blessing. He treats you like one, too, his hands slipping to your hips and planting themselves firmly against the backs of your thighs. He scoops you off of your feet, setting you on the counter behind you beside your skincare products.

“I’m glad I make you smile.” He stands between your legs, his hands braced on the counter on either side of you, “It’s my favorite thing to see.”

“You’re my favorite thing to see.” You gloat giddily, love-drunk and mushy as a result of the domestic atmosphere.

“So cheesy,” He teases, but it’s not an insult.

Affection drips from his words, and you nod in agreement. “Jus’ for you, Eddie.”

“Good.” He tilts his head up, jutting his chin out slightly, “‘Makes me feel special.”

“You are,” You barely get the words out before he’s leaning forwards, crowding you against the mirror behind you, “You’re the most special person I’ve ever-”

“Shh,” He doesn’t wait for you to finish, mumbling the words against your lips, “Kiss me.”

You do. His lips are on yours before you can even make the decision, soft and warm and plump. Your tongue juts out to lave slowly over the lower one, but no one makes any advances past that. You’re content where you are, kissing Eddie in the little bathroom adjacent to your shared bedroom. It’s your space, and Eddie is your love.

When he breaks away it’s to tilt his head forwards, resting his forehead against yours. You gaze dreamily into his eyes, even though it looks like he only has one with how close he is. You giggle softly at the image, your one-eyed boyfriend, and he’s laughing at you too, the silliness of the image adding to the intimacy of the moment.

“Okay,” He leaves one last firm kiss against your lips, slowly pulling away and looking down at the mess of products on the counter, “Which one next?”

“That one.” You point to your lip serum, “Goes on my lips. ‘S just a gloss, you can squeeze it on.”

He uncaps the tube of paste, squeezing experimentally and finding that it’s mostly empty. He finds a pocket of product near the bottom, working it up to the spout and holding it out in front of your face.

“Pucker up, baby.” He grins cheekily. You over-accentuate the gesture, giving him plenty of material to work with. He can’t help himself, leaning in to peck your lips one last time before putting the product on. You giggle as he smears the gloss messily over your lips, using the rounded tip of the applicator to smooth it evenly over the skin there.

“Okay, rub ‘em together.” He commands, screwing the cap back on, “Anything else?”

You shake your head, too busy rubbing in the gloss on your lips to answer. He smiles proudly, taking the wet washcloth and squeezing it dry before draining the sink. He hastily pushes all of your products to the side of the counter, his version of ‘cleaning up’, and then stands expectantly in front of you.

“Ready?” He means for bed, the day long gone. You nod eagerly, reaching for him and wrapping your arms around his neck. He pulls you in with open arms, one under your butt and one around your back as you curl your legs around his waist. You’re clinging to him like a little koala, your face already nestled into his neck, lips staining his skin with sticky gloss. Nevertheless, it spreads a grin over his cheeks.

“Come on,” He starts for the door, flicking the light off in the bathroom as you exit and clutching you tighter against his chest, “Let’s go to sleep, baby.”

tags: @shenevertricks1831 @nadixq

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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desublimitate · 9 months

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« As long as you come home at the end of the day »

➻ synopsis: Geto has been struggling with his mental health, being a curse eater is slowly breaking him as is his loss of hope in the sorcerers society. The only comfort he can find is in the arms of his roommate

➻ word count: 2000 words

➻ tags: Geto X Reader(gender neutral), hurt/comfort, fluff, sleeping together, dorm

➻ warnings: safe for minors, mentions of mental distress, eating disorders and self harm

A house is like a heart: it has rooms and hallways.

And a house can rot and fall apart, just like hearts can break and shatter.

You could breathe the decay and the despair everytime you stepped into your academy room.

It took weeks to convince old Yaga to let you and Suguru share dorms, for you just couldn’t bare the idea of him locked away with his thoughts. He wasn’t the same since the last mission, everyone could tell.

The Suguru Geto that agreed on protecting that girl for the noble Tengen wasn’t the same that came back. It seemed like he kept seeing her dying before his eyes over and over on loop.

You could hear him scream at night, when he got woken by the recurring nightmare that was haunting him: he kept hearing the gunshot, the smile freezing on that girl face before going blank.

Her body falling like a rag at his feet. He couldn’t save her, he was there with his hand stretched to grab hers and yet he saw the young life and all the future hopes leaving her eyes when the lights went out. He came back to the academy dragging shadows and curses like chains around his ankles.

For a moment he believed that he lost Gojo as well, but Satoru always rose back up, and that seemed to be what broke him.

Gojo was invincible, you could slash his body and he would still rise stronger than before, that young girl didn’t even have a chance, she couldn’t even fight for her life.

She didn’t even notice her life ending, while Gojo Satoru wasted his privilege with his pride.

There was nothing to be proud of, Geto thought, it was easy for Gojo to chant his own glorious gests when he wasn’t there when an innocent, lonely and defenceless girl’s brain matter got splattered on his uniform.

Gojo wasn’t there.

Geto was, and when they came back, there was a spark in his hazel eyes that it wasn’t there before.

A spark of resentment.

The door slammed and you thanked all the gods that would listen to your prayers for that sound of cracking wood, for each crack meant that Suguru came back home. One day more, that was all you begged for, just one day more everyday, one crack more on the door.

‘Just come back home to me’.

-Suguru?-

He didn’t reply, his feet were dragging on the floor.

Your eyelids were as heavy as ever and dark circles were forming under your eyes for all the nights you spent awake waiting for him to return from a daily mission or just for staying at his side during those nightmares.

Screams, sweat and chills, you wished there was a way for all of it to stop, but the best you could do was being there, being his safe haven at the end of the day, when Suguru embraced your waist you knew that your physical contact was the only anchor he had to remain sane.

You heard the shower opening, warm steam coming out of the bathroom so you decided to step out of bed, your guts just knew that that night something was different. Suguru’s black wide trousers and his jacket were abandoned on the floor, his shoes upside down.

That night must have gone worse than before.

-Suguru...-

The scene displayed before your eyes was heart-wrenching.

Suguru Geto, one of the strongest sorcerers ever existed, was kneeling on the floor, his arms up on the wall while scorching hot water rained on him. His skin was reddening, burning.

You could count his ribs and see his spine, he had lost so much weight in the last weeks it started worrying the headmaster.

He was trying to let himself die, Geto was starving himself and burning his skin hoping at some point his body would give up, and so it would all come to an end.

You rushed towards him, closing the shower, crying his name –Suguru!- As you lift him from his underarms, it doesn’t matter how tall he is compared to you he lost all his towering appeal.

There is nothing more heart-breaking than seeing a god lose faith in himself.

When someone infinite and might like Suguru Geto collapsed, you swore you felt the Earth stopping its rotation.

He grabbed your arms, his long delicate fingers wrapping them whole, he held on to you as you kneeled in front of him, you just couldn’t care less about getting your night clothes wet. He didn’t make a sound, his beautiful eyes were wide open who knows where. Who knows what they saw, you wished you could see through his eyes, so that he could share his sorrows and didn’t have to carry all the weight of his world on his shoulders. You wished you could take all that pain through Geto’s touch.

-I’m here, you are safe. Suguru, you are safe-

Your forehead touched his and some raven strings of hair fell on his face, only for you to tuck back behind his ear

–You are safe- You kept repeating –Nothing can hurt you now, it’s all over. I’m so proud of you, you have been amazing, Suguru-

What world were you living in, if it allowed Geto’s beauty to fade? Roses died in winter but with the new Sun they would open their buds again, you weren’t sure whether your Geto’s beauty would reflorish.

Your mind travelled to Satoru’s room, was he also in the shower? Was he perhaps singing himself songs while savouring another victory? Was he already in dream land safe from nightmares? Did he even notice Suguru’s breaking next to him? No, Gojo could never know what it felt like, what it tasted like. Gojo could never know what it felt like living with curses flowing in your system, mixing with your stomach juices, their aftertaste forever printed in your saliva. Breathing the taste of curses as you woke in the morning.

No, the perfect son of the Gojo clan, the Six Eyes child only knew light, darkness was left for those lesser of him.

-Tell me what can I do, please. Just say something, I beg you- Suguru’s brown eyes blinked for the first time

–Stay- His voice hoarse, venom eating his throat.

-I’m here, Suguru. I am not going anywhere. We can stay here all night long if you need it, but I’m not letting you burn yourself-

Geto coughed –I feel them on my skin, I want to burn them, they are on me walking all over me like roaches- His pupils stretched like needles.

You caressed his back, his soft skin, flawless and pale. You traced galaxies with his beauty spots and his scars

–I promise you there is nothing on you, I would never let them touch you, your skin is untouched. You will catch a cold if you stay wet for too long, here, let me help you- Slowly you stood up, following the pace of Geto’s long legs.

He hunched and almost crushed you with his weight when let out a loud cry, one of those cries that hurt your chest.

Geto screamed with his head on your shoulder, the power of his cry made your skin shiver, like vibrations on water. As Geto finally lets go of all his pain, you took the chance of damping his silky black hair with a soft towel.

It smelled of clean, of talcum, warm from the washing machine just for his return.

-It’s so soft, isn’t it?- You comforted him, caressing his head, making sure no spot of his huge body remained wet.

For a moment, you believed you sensed him nod.

-I got your favourite pajamas too, do you want to try laying down?- This time you clearly felt his forhead nod on your shoulder.

You held Geto’s hands walking him back to the bedroom, like a child afraid of monsters under his bed. Only that Geto had monsters in his insides.

-Lift your arms- He didn’t reply, just obeyed as he let you dress him for the night. Once he would have filled that white t-shirt, but as you passed his arms through it, you realized that it’s now bigger of at least three sizes. Geto was disappearing in his clothes.

-If there is anything, literally anything, that you feel comfortable eating, I would fly to the other side of the world to grab it for you, okay?-

Suguru sat on the bed, let himself fall on the back. -You don’t have to do all of this, it’s only a burden- Said Suguru, ashamed to look at your face.

-Look, if it was a burden, I would have stopped long ago-

-Why are you even doing all of this? You are barely sleeping-

-Why do you think I’m doing it?- He knew the answer, because that’s the same answer he would give.

-I am having very dark thoughts, you know?-

-And you know that you can share all of them with me, I won’t run away-

-I’m afraid that if I told you, or Satoru, bad things would happen- You cuddled up, crossing your legs with his and hugging his side

–I don’t know Satoru as good as you do, he is an arrogant prick but I don’t believe he is stupid, he just needs his six eyes opened sometimes. I am sure he would understand. I would understand. There is absolutely nothing in the world that you could say that would make me run away from you, Suguru Geto-

He smiled and kissed your nose –Never ever?-

You rubbed your nose against his, straight and perfect –Never ever. I love you, Suguru. In good and bad times-

-Now that sounds like a wedding vow- Geto smirked.

-Well at least it brightened you up!-

-I’m sorry I’m putting this on you, I promise it will stop-

Your fingers were playing with his hair –I don’t need any apologise, as long as you come home to me at the end of the day, in whatever shape you do, I will be welcoming you with open arms, warm towels and soft blankets-

Geto nudged his head on your chest, his favourite sleep position, his arms as always around your waist –Don't you ever think that there could be a way to stop all of this? The curses, everything-

You kissed his head, didn’t reply.

-I wonder if it will be ever enough, what we do? If what we are doing isn’t actually useless and we are just wasting time and powers? Sorcerers are dying but spirits and curses keep growing in number. I don’t think I like this world, my love-

-I don’t like this world either. I don’t like a world that swallows his strongest sons. I don’t like a world that forces you to eat its curses. Of course I think of a way to put all of this to an end. I think about it everytime you leave, not knowing if you will return to me, and everytime I see you crying and scratching your throat at night. If I could end this for you, I would have done it long ago-

Geto raised his head, on his face there is a surprised expression –If I found a way, it would make the sorcerers society collapse, we would lose this-

-Remember these words: I love you, Suguru Geto, and I would follow you to the end of the world, I would sacrifice this wretched world if I was sure that I could stay like this, with you in my arms. I love you, even the darkness you carry. You are not alone, you are never alone. Come back to me, Suguru Geto. Your smiles, your wittiness. I miss all of this, if this world stole you from me I would come and find you in the pits of hell. Come back to me, Suguru-

By the time you finished talking, Geto’s breathe was heavier and regular, on your chest. He was breathing on you, almost giving you life through his own cursed oxygen. His forehead was relaxed so you kissed it one last time. -I love you, Geto-

#geto suguru #suguru geto #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #suguru geto x reader #if you have seen this on ao3 it's still me #fan fiction #ao3fic

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the-kr8tor · 1 month

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Sink or Swim

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Total Word Count: 16k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Hobie is mentioned taller than R, CW food mentions, CW suggestive, TW blood, CW injury, CW miscarriage mention, TW violence.

A/N: I've divided this chapter into two because of how long it is and tumblr wouldn't let me draft the post without the app crashing. So sorry for the inconvenience. I'll put the link at the end and on top.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

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CHAPTER 13 >>> CHAPTER 13 II

Hobie's throat feels like he swallowed glass. Yet, he screams until his lungs give out, until his body gives out. Fist pounding into steel, skin splitting, blood staining the metal, he continues to call for you. His ears could only hear your frantic yells, his name falling out of your lips, vomited out desperately, asking for him, calling for him to get you out.

He kicks and thrashes at the metal bars, his mind imagines the worst— nails ripped from your fingers, bones breaking, skin scraped and slashed. He doesn't need to imagine how it could feel for he had lived through it all, survived through sheer will alone. But he promised, he promised to you and in that hollow grave that it will never be filled with your body; that your own blood wouldn't spill in between his fingers.

Yet, like the knife that he is, like the one who breaks skin and bleeds everything he touches— he hurt you, shot you where you stood, when he should've protected you, shielded you from the bullet. But how could he do it when the bullet is from him? When he used the same weapon that has ended dozens of lives to protect his crew, to harm you; the only person he deems worthy of telling all his secrets, you, who is worth more than every single treasure in the world.

Maybe he should've listened to you and stayed on the island.

Hobie calls for you once again, in hopes that you hear him too, in hopes that his voice is enough to bring you hope. The lighthouse that guides you home. But he knows, he knows all you could hear are muffled sounds and the creaking from the rocking ship.

Your voice wavers, like you've been forcefully silenced. So he does the screaming for you. It's loud, tone furious, ready to scratch at anyone who gets closer.

“Hobie—” Gwen tries to get his attention as the door opens, revealing the two guards staying in the doorway, keeping their distance.

Guns are strapped to them, knives glinting in the lamp light, armed to the teeth. Hobie knows it's all for him.

“Shut the fuck up.” One frustratingly said, teeth clenched, hands kneading at his temples.

“Keep screaming and you won't get supper.” The bigger one utters, the large scar on his cheek tightens as Hobie taunts them with a grim smile. The smile he reserves to strike fear.

They stiffen in the doorway, shoulders straight, hands reaching for their weapons.

“Do it then.” Hobie says, voice guttural, hands gripping the bars. “End the screaming.” His sheer tone alone sends everyone's hair to stand upright.

No one in the crew dares to stop Hobie. He doesn't know if they're afraid just like the men in front of him or if they're biding their time to scratch and bite too.

“Come closer and end it.” He doesn't yell, and that terrifies the men in the doorway. “And you'll find out exactly what I did to Admiral Kinney all those years ago.” He can still taste the admiral's ichor on his tongue.

The hulking men share a look, sweat dripping off their brows. And with that, they shut the door behind them, returning to their post with their tails tucked between their legs.

“Cowards.”

If it wasn't a grim situation, James would've laughed.

Hobie hears Gwen sigh behind him, the liquid in her hand sloshes as she practically shoves it in his face.

“At least drink some water. For your throat.”

“No, ‘m not drinking that slop.”

Gwen has had enough, she takes him by the collar, eyes bravely glaring at her captain. “If you want to leave this ship and save her, then drink the slop, eat the fucking bread and keep your goddamn energy for when we get the window to escape. Screaming won't help, captain. It's not helping anyone.” Her jaw is set, eyebrows knitted together.

The rest of the crew stand on the side, ready to get between them if it gets physical. He'll never hurt Gwen, never even thought of it. But he can't stand the thought of his family standing against him rather than next to him. So he fixes it, you'd like it that way.

Hobie gingerly takes the cup, chugging it down in one gulp.

“Good, now eat some bread and sit down.”

“Y/N—” he starts.

“She'll be alright, she's a fighter ain't she?” He nods, “you know her better than us, so tell us, cap'n, that she will survive this.”

He roams his red eyes at his sparse crew. For a brief second he sees the ones he lost behind them. For the first time, he's glad he doesn't see you with them.

Returning his attention towards Gwen, he utters the words with the confidence of a captain.

“She'll survive this.”

—

Sitting down in the corner, he rests his poor throat, the dry bread didn't help much. It was shitty to say the least, times like this, he misses Finn. He'd beat him if he ever knew that he let the famous bloodsail pirates into the hands of a former admiral and you into the hands of someone you fear the most.

Hobie shuts his eyes for a second, he swears it's only for a second but when he wakes up with a start and the door opening with a creak, the moon is already shining outside the large boat.

When he sees you appear by the doorway, he thinks he's still dreaming.

“Ten,” He hears you say between gritted teeth. All he could focus on is you, checking for signs of an injury, he starts from your head—nothing, arms, also nothing, save for a few scratches. Then he settles on your bandaged leg, and he remembers what he did, what he did to you. Guilt and grief overtakes his body, he tries his best to hide into the background, into the wooden walls, to become part of the ship, to hide his shame. Because he hurt you, and he'll never forgive himself for what he did.

Hobie watches from his corner, defeated when you tell him subtly that you're alright. And when you called for him, called his name softly like summer wind breezing by, warm and reminding him of home— he couldn't help but oblige.

Who is he to deny the sky?

When you held him in your hands, he felt anew. Apologies spill from his mouth, eyes forlorn at the red spot on your bandages.

What is the tides without his moon?

He feels lighter when you forgive him. But his past action still haunts him, he knows it'll join the long line of nightmares that plague him at night.

“That's my girl.” He says truthfully and proudly, he feels your heartbeat hasten through your pulse.

You tell him your choice, your decision to give up your freedom for him and the crew. He feels like he was back on the revenge, facing Mathias, refusing to let you go as you offer yourself for their freedom.

His heart beats harder as you ask him to read your mother's letter. He's unsure why you would let someone like him read something as heavy as the letter. It's reserved for someone whose hands wouldn't stain the paper with crimson.

“Because I trust you.” You say, and everything aligns in his mind. Like Poseidon shaking him inside out, like the tides itself is splitting him open.

Hobie reads it with trembling hands and broken skin. Like he thought, it turns the paper pink like ink blots dirtying the pristine paper.

He dictates it, heart shattering at every tear you let out. Wiping your cheeks dry, he's careful not to let his split skin touch your softer ones.

“It's real, innit?” He asks like the earth isn't eating him whole.

“It's real.” You answer and the world caves in around him.

Hobie teases to feel the resemblance of normalcy, “little tomato?” He asks.

And you answer with a “I don't want them, just you.” Like you didn't just mend his shattering heart with one sentence. And you break it right after with a “We'll meet again, in this life or the next.”

He's terrified once again. He shakes his head as the door creaks open. “No, Y/N—”

As you kiss his wounded knuckles gently, you ask him something he can't possibly do.

“Don't follow me, please.”

Reaching for you, he should've read the last line in the letter to you. ‘Don't trust anyone’ it said, whatever it was, it's not your burden to carry, so he'll do it for you.

Hobie apologizes in his head for keeping it away from you and for what he's about to do.

—

With the dinner bell ringing, and heavy footsteps retreating, the crew takes their chance. The key opens the door smoothly. They sneak around the ship, only leaving shadows and footfalls that's barely audible.

Climbing up the steps towards freedom, Hobie spots a door at the end of a hallway. Like two hearts beating as one, he knows it's you behind it.

Miles takes his arm before he could come to you. “Don't.” He whispers to his captain. “Don't waste her sacrifice.”

“She didn't sacrifice herself.” Hobie shakes his head, scoffing quietly. “I can't leave her behind, Miles. I can't.”

“I know,” he pulls him away from the hallway. “she asked you to not follow, so don't follow.”

“If this was Gwen—”

“If this was Gwen we'd be doing the exact same thing. She wouldn't ask us to follow and we'll leave because she asked us to.” Miles spares a heavy glance towards your locked door. “I know it hurts, but we'd be in the gallows by morning if we don't leave now. We'll have another chance at saving her.”

“You don't know that.”

“I don't, but it's better to not know instead of being dead. At least we'd have a chance.” Miles tugs him further away. “Do you think it's better for her to think that she caused our deaths just because you took the chance?” His voice is determined.

“Don't hurt her like that, Hobie. It'll ruin her.”

With one last look towards your door, Hobie nods, following the others to the deck then to safety. As the dinghy drops down into the sea, and into the dark night, he hears Miguel curse his name.

He asks for your forgiveness silently.

—

Hobie and the crew finally make it to the docks without being seen by anyone. It was pure luck that no one saw or even heard them, he thanked the early morning and the still dark sky for lending them a hand.

“We need to wait for her.” He says, stretching his stiff hands from rowing the boat.

The sparse pirate crew hides in the shadows, hidden behind the dark alleyway. They lean on the grimy walls, hands cradling their fatigued heads, huffing and groaning at the aches and pains they had from their daring escape. They can still hear Miguel cursing Hobie's name, his voice ringing in their ears.

“Hobie,” Gwen calls for him. “Leave her be.”

“What the fuck?” Hobie turns sharply. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means we leave her alone.” Pavitr says forlornly, eyes downcast at the dirty pavement.

“We promised her—”

“That was when we didn't know it was her actual family. Back when we all thought Miguel was a threat to her.” Yuri pipes up, hands braced on her knees. Fatigued and clearly needing rest. “I love her, Hobie, I really do. We all love her, but she's with family now. Let her be.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Miles scoffs, “We're talking about the same person right?” He stands next to Hobie, arms crossed on his chest.

“C’mon, Miles,” Gwen says tiredly. “We all heard their conversation, it's real, she's noble—”

“And what of it?” Hobie snaps back. “You were too.”

“I was.” She scowls. “But she has a home to go to, a family that's waiting for her. We need to let her be until for whatever reason she decides to stay or leave with us.” Inhaling sharply, she rubs harshly at her eyes. “Let's make a compromise then. We're all clearly feeling conflicted. I don't want to fully let her go, we all agree right?”

Everyone nods, tension running high, glares thrown about the small group. Gwen continues, “Then we stay close to her, we watch her like when we used to observe potential crew members. But this time we make sure she is actually safe and not thrown to the wolves.” Her idea reminds Hobie why he chose her as his first mate.

“I'll keep first watch,” Hobie quickly says, "we switch after I say so.”

“And when will that be, Hobie?” Yuri clasps her hand on Hobie's shoulder, comforting the man. “You haven't slept a wink, add the fact that you were stranded on a bloody island for a month, you're not in the right state for this.”

“I'll be once I see that she's safe.” His voice cracks, “I didn't keep an eye on MJ and look what happened. I-I don't want that to happen again. Please let me do it. You can follow me all you want just let me keep watch—”

“It's Y/N,” James whisper yells, he peeks around the alley, watching you slowly walk down the ship.

They all clammer to see you ignore Miguel's helping hand. Pride swells in their chest, they remember now why they can't exactly leave you behind— you're family.

As if fate is pulling the strings, you crane your neck to look in their direction. The crew ducks away, but Hobie stays, staring at you, waiting for your signal, anything to indicate that you want to run away with them.

He sees your subtle shake of your head, and with that, he hides with his crew.

“Did she say something?” Pav asks, concerned for you.

“No, nothin’” He holds his heart in his hand. “She said nothin'”

—

Hobie follows you quietly throughout the day. Hiding from Miguel's watchful eyes and your sad eyes. The crew left to rest in an inn, Miles offered to come with him, Hobie's glad he did for he found an unhitched horse in a street corner. But it could only seat one so Miles, the angel that he is, let Hobie go on without him.

“I'll take care of them.” He promises before he lets his captain go.

They all know your house, they've raided their ships before. Crates upon crates full of luxury, with the same design on your necklace stamped on the wooden sides. Hobie knows them quite well, the favourite of the king, always giving them special treatment. Yet the queen holds them at an arm's length away, but she never left her eyes away from their business. He guessed sacking random ships has its perks, gossip is one of them.

Hobie silently trots his horse, eyes never leaving the carriage you just left. The cemetery sends his nerves alight, with the crows cawing in the background, he strains his ear to listen in. He's hiding behind the chapel, the irony doesn't escape him.

The truth is revealed to you, and unbeknownst to you, he has learned about it too. His head is in his hands as he listens to how broken your voice is, tone splitting at the seams. Then his heart stops when you tell your mother that you want to stay, that you want to find the person responsible for their deaths, that the same flames burning inside him now have spread to you.

Hobie doesn't want you to go down the same path he walked on, to let the embers singe your skin, to let the fire burn you from the inside out like it had with him. You helped him through his, helped him control it. Now it's his turn to do so for you.

He cares for you, loves you for all your soft touches and gentle tone. But he's prepared to love you through your jagged edges, through all the anger that's inside you. He'd love both sides of you, because it's you, and no one else.

His foot accidentally steps on a twig as he sees you leave. Hobie almost ran towards you when you looked at the source of the sound. This time he ducks away, knowing that there's eyes on you, eyes that are prepared to take you away the moment they see him. So he waits, until there's no more eyes on you.

The next time he saw you again was when you stepped out of the carriage and into the golden doors of the palace. He's terrified for what's to come, whether or not Miguel has brought you on a silver platter for the wolves to devour.

With his guns accompanying him, he readies outside the walls of the palace until you leave, until he sees you again climbing inside the carriage.

He can finally breathe again, he doesn't have to kill this time. Not yet anyway.

Hobie tries his best to stay hidden, he bribes and lies to get inside Hazelside. Then he waits, and bides his time just to talk to you.

—

“Hazelside estate,” Miguel says when the large manor looms over the horizon. “Your family has owned it for two hundred years. Passed down to every first born child of the family.”

Acres and acres of land stretch across the vast space. Primed apple trees and oaks line the road, men and women in work clothes walk near the carriage, not even craning their necks to take a peek inside. It seems this was a daily occurrence for them.

“Two hundred years.” You repeat, contemplating how many generations owned it. “So it's mine once the papers are signed? Where would my…uncle and aunt go then?” Your mind goes through a hundred scenarios where you stay and where you decide to leave it all again.

“They have their own house. Granted it's not as big as Hazelside but it's enough for them. Knowing his majesty, he'd take his sweet time from releasing the papers.”

“How well do you know the king and queen?” You ask, eyes scanning your family's land.

Stone houses are standing miles away from the main estate, employees of the house you think. Chimneys billow out smoke whilst the sun is just about to rise. You imagine them having breakfast with their families, sleep still clinging in their lashes, hot tea wrapped in their cool hands. Opening the window, the smell of fresh apples wafts over you. Home, you think. It smells like home. Or it just reminds you of the apple tarts Jessica made for you when you were younger.

“You alright?” Miguel asks, watching you frown.

“I'm fine, just tired.” You lied, in truth, you miss them all.

“You had a hectic day, I don't blame you. You'll get to rest soon, I promise.”

How could you even think of sleeping alone? After being near him? After saying goodbye?

“You didn't answer my question.” You shift your attention from the trees to the man before you. “How well do you know them?”

“I barely know the queen, but the king? Yes, short answer? He's a moron, a buffoon wearing a crown.”

Lyla snickers next to you, head plopped on the carriage wall, seemingly asleep.

You smile, “You have a monkey for a king.”

“Once you're the Hazelside duchess, he'll be your king too.”

“Christ.” You chuckle nervously.

“Don't worry, I'll help you get accustomed to polite society.” Miguel reassures you and you still have no idea if you'll stay long enough to bear the title.

“Polite society.” You say with a scoff, “What I just saw wasn't very polite.”

“Just remember, everything here is political. Everyone here is climbing the ladder, kissing the royal asses. Some are doing it for their families, some are doing it for their personal gain.”

“Which one do you think I am?”

“Neither.” The carriage stops, horses neighing, hooves stomping on the gravel. “You're not like them, Y/N, that's why you'll end up walking all over them.”

The footman opens the door, Miguel gives you a look before coming down the small steps. He reaches towards you, helping you down. You hesitate. You still don't take his hand even with your bad leg.

The wind blows cold, goosebumps appearing on your skin, face worried at the sheer size of the manor. The glinting silvered birds catch the early morning's sun's rays. Beady eyes seemingly blinking when a cloud passes by.

Vines cling to the ancient walls, small purple flowers run along the plant and along the large windows. Strong columns line the façade, laurels carved on the marble, oak doors displaying the house sigil— your necklace bearing a similarity to it. Flower beds cradling violets lay by the foot of the building, blooming and fragrant. The smell hiding your trepidation from the dozen or so people watching you with unreadable eyes.

The staff greets you with a stiff nod, they stand on the stairs leading towards the manor. Their uniforms are perfect, perfectly ironed and clean; perfect white gloves on their hands.

A couple of them help your drunk uncle off their own carriage. He groans, head swirling, eyes rolling to the back of his head. Fancy clothes sweaty and moist, neckerchief lopsided and dirtied by ale. In contrast to his wife, who looks tired with the heavy eye bags under her eyes, she still looks like a proper noble compared to Frederick.

“Freddy—” She groans, kicking her husband's leg, “get up!”

“Darling…” he slurs, “there's two of you—oh wait…now there's three!” His guffaw fills the quiet morning.

Victoria gives up, leaving the man to the care of her staff. She walks off, huffing and puffing. She gives you a glance, “what are you waiting for? Get inside.”

Her eyes flick to Miguel who stands behind you, she immediately clamps down her bitterness. “Welcome to Hazelside, niece.” With a stomp of her heeled foot, she heads inside, no doubt seething.

“Catty.” Lyla says next to you, elbowing your side. “C’mon, your grace, before the sun gets in their eyes and sends them into a murderous frenzy.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. Something flickers in your peripheral vision, when you move your head to look, whatever it was, it's already gone behind the thick bushes.

“Y/N?” Miguel beckons you over. “It's cold out, come inside before you get sick.”

“Coming,” you call back, eyes darting around the thicket.

—

Miguel shows you around to your room in the west wing. Various historical paintings decorate the walls, wooden simple frames around them, showing the true beauty of the art without all the extravagant gold laurels around it.

Sculpted busts of your ancestors wait at every corner, marble eyes staring blankly at what's in front of them. Large windows line the walls, just outside the glass lies an expansive field of apple trees, bulbs of reds and greens adorning the branches of the mighty orchard. You stand in awe at the sight, workers start flocking the trees, picking and plucking at the ripest of fruits. The sun shines directly at the field, apples aglow with its light like red and green stars.

You lag behind Miguel as you gawp at the scenery, hand tucked inside the pocket of your gown, mindlessly rolling the pearl. Wishing the crew could see it too, wishing that he could see it and harvest the fruits with you.

Miguel calls for you, hand reaching but he retracts it back to his side. “Apples are new around here.” You genuinely smile at him, so he continues. “It used to just be hazelnuts, which still grow plenty in the estate.”

“Why the change then?”

“They didn't change, your family merely adapted. Your grandmother was the one who started planting the apple trees. Whenever she had a—” Miguel falters, you can practically see his brain turning.

“Had a what? I'm a big girl, Miguel, I can handle whatever it is.” You encourage him with a nod.

“A miscarriage,” he says lowly, “At the end of her life she planted seven trees. There was only one seed she didn't plant and that was when your mother was born.”

Your heart aches at the story even though the people in it are practically strangers to you. “Apple of her eye.” You murmur.

Miguel chuckles, turning to watch the vast orchard that spans acres upon acres of land. “It’s an understatement. She was spoiled, your mother. But she had a heart, most of her gifts almost always ‘gets lost’ somewhere.” He smiles fondly. “Strangely enough, it always ends up with someone who would benefit from it more.”

“Which one ended up getting lost in your backyard?” You smile at his rare grin.

“A lot, pocket watches, jeweled eggs, there was a kitten once. Only because her mother didn't like it.” He sighs, hazel eyes shining under the sunlight.

“You loved her.”

“I did,” he stares at you with kinder eyes. “She was my best friend, and so was your father. They both were.”

“What did you mean back at the carriage when you told me that they did the same to you?”

He swallows thickly, staring back at the outside of the opulent manor. “My daughter, Gabriella.” he says after a moment, “She was only a few years older than you. Your parents were her godparents, this was before they eloped and had you.” You can feel the strain in his voice. “She got sick…they poured everything into giving her the best doctors the country has to offer. They were at her side while I was drowning my sorrows in the navy. When they weren't by her side, they were with me. But in the end everything was all in vain.”

“I'm sorry,” you say genuinely, “I'm sorry, Miguel.”

He gives you a tight smile and a pat on your shoulder. “Even after all that they were still by my side, even when I pushed them away.” Sniffing, he subtly wipes his eye. “I didn't cross the sea and traveled thousands of miles to find you because I want us to be even. Or to pay the debt, I just wanted to find the last thing they left in hopes that I also find them in you.” His chest heaves. “I couldn't even say goodbye to them.”

There's tears in your eyes as he chokes on his own words. “I lost my friends but you lost your family before you could even meet them. And for that, I'm sorry, Y/N.” His hand shakes. “They didn't deserve what happened to them.”

“Tell me what happened to them.” You stand toe to toe with him, determined to get answers.

“Pirates, I told you they were pirates.”

You shake your head. “Do you really believe that, O’Hara? Or are you still trying to convince yourself otherwise?”

His jaw clenches, “It was pirates, Y/N.”

“Tell that to the former navy medic I call mother.”

He whispers, “the last time I looked further into their deaths I lost my Job, stripped of all my titles. I almost lost my house because of it.”

“Then tell me what you found.” You challenge him back. “Tell me who ordered it so I can live in this house in peace.”

“I don't have definitive proof—”

“Who?”

“Edward.” He says through gritted teeth. “He wanted to marry your mother, even going as far to ask for her hand. But when she refused him for your father—” he heaves. “I think he has probable cause to order the attack.”

“You were answering the man who might've killed my parents and wanted me dead?”

“How do you think that makes me feel, hm? I had my full trust in the navy, trusting the report they gave, trusted them with my whole life, even dedicating my life to them. And the moment I get a whiff of a planned murder on the only family I've ever had they bar me from the only life I've ever known. How do you think that made me feel?”

“I'm sorry you went through that but you could've done something.”

“He is king!” Miguel's voice booms around the hallway. He shifts his voice, pinching his knitted brows. “His word is law, I couldn't have done anything, even if I had proof.”

“You should've started with that instead of telling me lies, then I would've come to you without a fight.”

“There would've still been a fight.” He states matter of factly. “Hobie was ready to fight the moment I stepped below deck.”

“Could you blame him though? We both know not every single pirate crew is as nice as them, he didn't attack because you claimed it was pirates. Or that he was offended, he knows that he has done unsavoury things too. So what did you say that made him lunge at you?”

Miguel shakes his head, refusing to say anything. “It's best that you don't remember it.”

“Fine, be like that, just know that there will always be a wall between us.” Your heels clack loudly against the oak floors as you leave him behind.

—

The room they gave you was surprisingly comfortable, unlike the apartments in the palace that you explored. It's ten times bigger than the inn you were in, complete with your own bathroom and sitting room. It's all wooden walls covered in beautiful tapestries of various scenes from history— the thick cloth helps keep the heat inside. All the windows are wide open to let the cool air in and the moonlight. So you could hear the rustling of the trees outside, so you could smell the crisp apples. It helps, you think as you sit in front of the large stone fireplace with birds engraved in every corner of the stone.

You're already sick of the bloody birds.

You wrap the fur blanket closer to your body, still in your gown, refusing to wear anything else they've provided for you. You've heard of poisoned dresses before, it's far-fetched but you can't risk it now that you're in a more unfamiliar territory where your own family holds a grudge against you just for existing.

Especially now that you're alone in a large room filled with strange things. And with only his dagger to keep you safe.

Anyone would kill to be in your shoes right now, to be pampered and placed in a household that can provide for all your needs. If it weren't for the hunger in you, you would've left all of the gold in this house just to get back to them. Instead, the fire has you in its hold too.

Miguel's information only fueled the glowing embers in you, you're determined to find who killed them. But you're still restrained in this large manor, and until you can get your answers, you say their names to satiate the hunger.

“Edward and Mathias.” You say through shuddered breath, feeling if you could just say it louder, the sky would strike them down where they stood.

The pearl in your hands is warm, the shiny surface reflecting your scowl.

The flames mesmerize you as it dances in the kindling. Orange and reds illuminate your face, it's the only light in the whole room. You exhale and a puff of clouds escape your cool lips.

It's getting colder, and you're missing him.

Just when you're about to stand up to close the windows, a pebble lands near you. It thuds on the wooden floors, the sound gets your attention.

“What the hell?” You say confused. Standing back up, another flies through the open windows and into your room. “Who the fuck?” Speed walking towards the window, you almost get hit by a pebble if you didn't dodge it in time. “Hey!”

Fifteen feet below your window, you see two people dressed in their night clothes, bundled up in fur coats. They look up at you with wide eyes, like they got caught with their hands inside the cookie jar.

“Cousin!” One exclaims, a wide apologetic smile on his lips, showing you his perfect teeth. “Sorry about that! Can you come down?”

“Who in the world are you?” You ask, confused, you lean down to take a better look, hands gripping the sill for support.

“We're your cousins! I guess?” The girl next to him says, eyes shining in the moonlight, hand holding another pebble. “We waited to see you during supper and around the house but you were apparently hiding!”

“Alright, why do I need to come down then?”

“Because we want to properly introduce ourselves! Without screaming at you from below that is.” The girl shrugs, smiling prettily at you. “Please, cousin?”

“...fine.” you grumble, the dagger is still hidden underneath your skirt in case they're planning something nefarious.

They beam up at you, the girl daintily claps her hands. “Brilliant! We'll be waiting at the entrance.”

As you trudge down the unfamiliar sprawling halls, trying your hardest to not get lost in the maze-like structure. You accidentally encounter another painting of your mother.

Her name is etched on a golden plaque just below the portrait. This one was different from the one in the palace, she was stiff there, lips tightly closed into a line, eyes cold and empty. The one in front of you is warm, a soft smile on her lips, eyes shining and alive. Her dress is in lilac, golden stars adorning the bodice. She still wore the same necklace you're currently wearing, it rests perfectly on her neck. In her hand is a closed locket, you wonder whose portrait lies inside.

“Hi, mum.” You whisper into the cold hallway. “Where's dad's portrait?” You ask like she would open her mouth and answer back. With a sigh, you head downstairs.

Walking the ancient floors, the moon shines down at you, the light peeking in from the gaps of the heavy curtains. Silently, you meet with your cousins in the foyer. Carefully coming down the curved staircase, hand gripping the bannister, the boy who is about the same age as Miles meets you halfway. He reaches towards you, giving you a hand.

“I heard about your leg, I thought you'd appreciate some help.”

“You're Frederick's children?” You say, questioning whether or not you should take his hand.

“We are,” he says with a sigh. “Come on, cousin, or you might miss it.”

“Miss what?”

“The birds.” The girl waiting in the foyer excitedly says. “They're migrating.”

“Oh, I don't see why that would be so interesting.” You say as the boy flexes his fingers, beckoning you down.

“You’ll see why. Take my hand please, you look like our grandmother going down the steps.”

“Fine,” with an exhale, you take his hand. You hold his hand, a feather light touch that he barely feels, giving yourself enough time to react if he decides to do something.

“I'm Jonathan, or just John.” He says as he gently leads you down the steps. His stride is slow, waiting for your own feet to keep up. “And this is my sister—”

“Collette!” She suddenly clasps your hands when you reach the last step. “Sorry–” her tone is sweet and genuine, quickly removing her hands from yours. “I got too excited! I'm Collette, my brother and I are twins.”

“Unfortunately…” John says under his breath.

Collette jabs her elbow by his side, earning a groan from him. You see the similarities on their faces now that you're closer to them. From the slope of their noses to the curls of their hair, they look very much alike. Except for their eyes, Collette has emerald eyes that shimmer from the oil lamp she carries. While her brother has brilliant blue eyes that remind you of the sea when the sun shines above it.

You get reminded of him again.

“Who's older?” You ask teasingly, pushing the previous thought away.

“I am!” They both speak at the same time. John looks at her sister with disappointment, while Collette scrunches her nose.

“I'm five minutes older than you, Jojo.” She says with a tone you could only describe as annoyed.

“Father told me I'm the one who's five minutes older. Not you!”

“Sure,” she nods sarcastically, the lamp in her hand sways. “Because father was in the room when we were born.” Her head swivels to look at you, and you almost jump at how fast she moved. “He wasn't in the room.”

“Ah, I think I got it—”

“Like you could bloody remember.” John says with a scoff.

Before the argument could go on, you stop them with your hands on each of their shoulders.

“I need to sleep, so whatever you want to show me, just fucking show me.”

Collette stares at you with a gasp, eyes wide like you just said the darndest thing. Meanwhile, John has the biggest grin you've ever seen.

“Wow, cousin.” He says, amused. “I heard you used to run with pirates but I didn't know you got their vocabulary too. Hazelside would be more interesting now that you're here.”

“Gosh,” Collette exhales, clutching her pearls (literally) “I didn't know that word could be uttered by a woman.”

“You should try it sometimes. It's very freeing.” You chuckle at their reaction whilst you make your way outside. “Before we freeze to death, cousins?”

“The oldest should lead the way.” John takes the opportunity to rag on his still bewildered sister.

She groans audibly. “You're not the one with the lamp.”

You smile, there's a warm familiar feeling in your chest.

—

Leaves crunch under your bare foot, you've got blisters from the uncomfortable heels Miguel gave you. You'd take walking on bare feet rather than wear that torture device ever again. The only plus side of the fancy shoe is that it makes you feel powerful with every click of the heels. Walking along a path, tall apple trees carve a way for you and the twins.

“I like your dress.” Collette says right next to you, you sense her wariness by how she keeps her distance. “The color is beautiful, it's our house color.”

“Thank you, but I've been told that red suits me better.”

“Oh, I think they're right actually.” She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Yeah, I'm slowly getting used to this one though.” You lift up your skirt a bit for emphasis.

“Is it true that you were shot?” John asks in front of you, looking over his shoulder. “We heard from the footmen that you were shot by a pirate when O’Hara rescued you.”

“I was, but that's not the whole story. Miguel didn't rescue me.”

“Really?” Collette's brows are raised in question and surprise. You nod at her question. “Huh, I told you we shouldn't listen to gossip.” She slaps her brother on his bicep, he winces, glaring at her. “It's bad to begin with.”

“That's the thing about gossip, Co, it's not always the truth.” He spits out.

“I knew that, pssh.” She crosses her arms on her chest, annoyed and embarrassed.

“Why are we out here again? If you're planning to ambush me—” Colette gasps loudly, like you've shot her.

“Ambush you? Do we look like we know how to fight?” She stops you from going further down the path just as you see a dark river at the end of it.

John knits his brows with a pout. “We're here to give you a warm welcome, cousin. We heard mother and father didn't even give you a tour, so I guess it falls on us to show you around.”

“At night though?” You gesture around the silence of the grounds, save for a few crickets chirping and the flowing of the lake, you're practically alone in the dark.

“Guess we're just living to our house motto, ‘carpe noctem—’”

“‘Seize the night’” Collette finishes her brother's sentence. “The ancestor who established our house was a gambler.” She shrugs.

“That's our house motto?”

“Nope!” Collette answers you. “It was our house motto.” She gestures to herself and her brother. “Before the crown granted us Hazelside, after—” John elbows her. “I'm sorry.”

“It's alright, what's the actual motto?”

“‘alis volat propriis—’”

“‘She flies with her own wings.’” You translate, the siblings look at you with awe. “There's latin in medicine.”

“You know medicine?!” Collette shrieks, the sound echoing through the dark.

“Brilliant.” John murmurs.

“Oh you must tell us more!” Collette loops her arm around yours, walking side by side. “How and where did you learn it?”

“I—”

“Don't pester her, Co.” John clicks his tongue, “have you cut anyone's arm off?”

“How grim!” She exclaims.

As they lead you towards the sparkling lake, you three chat through the night by the banks of the hazelside lake. They ask about the world outside the capital, they ask about the sea and the pirates you were with. You don't tell them about all the blood and violence, deciding that you shouldn't mar their innocent hearts with stories of death. It's not yours to tell, and you don't want to traumatize the only people who don't look at you with contempt.

“So you're not mad at me or even at least a bit annoyed for showing up and taking the estate from your parents?” You ask whilst the sun slowly rises, bathing the lake in bright blue. The hazelnuts in your mouth is a welcome one since you haven't eaten a single bite since you got to the capital.

“Not really.” John munches on his own pile of hazelnuts. He lounges near the water, hand cradling his head, chewing quietly. “We were surprised at first because there have been a handful of girls who claimed to be you. Who were obviously not you.” You raise an eyebrow at his statement. “But when they told us it was Miguel who found you, we were sure it was really you.”

“Wait— there were people who claimed to be me?”

“Mm-hmm.” Collette hums, sitting close to you, hanging on to every word you utter. “They weren't very convincing.”

“The story of Miguel trying to find you was pretty famous around here. I mean, the guy abandoned his post to find a missing duchess who may or may not be alive. That was a big story back then, so a lot of women threw their daughters and young relatives at the manor's gates to get a chance.” John informs you.

“We were quite young back then, but the fakes dwindled away through the years.” Collette finishes his statement.

“‘Quite young’ she says,” he scoffs, “we were barely out of the womb, Collette.” His sister sticks out her tongue at John.

“Huh, that's probably why I haven't heard of it either, I was still young.” You wonder.

“The sun's almost out!” Collette points at the clear sky. “Get ready, cousin, because you're about to see the most gorgeous thing.”

“The birds here migrate at this time of year,” John helps you both up to your feet. You surprisingly take his hand. “like clockwork. Collette and I used to watch it with our parents before they got all…well, too much. Now it's some sort of tradition for us.”

“Look look! The trees are rustling!” She points, jumping up and down.

“Any minute now.” John smiles at his sister as she half hugs him.

The three of you wait for a sign of the birds, a minute passes, then two, then five. Yet, not even a feather flies overhead. The early morning sun shines brighter with every minute that passes. And with every minute, the twins grew agitated.

“Why aren't they coming out?” Collette asks sadly.

“I'm sure they're just getting ready for the journey.” John reassures his sister with a pat on her shoulder. “My calculations are correct, why aren't they here yet?” He questions no one.

Their slumped shoulders and frowns get to you. An idea pops in your head, and you think it's all Hobie's fault.

“Maybe they're still sleeping.” They look at you simultaneously, “I mean it's really cold out, they probably wanted to stay in bed— or nest to sleep more. I know I would want to.”

“Oh,” Collette gives you a small smile at your attempt to make them feel better. “That's probably it. Thank you, cousin.”

You grin mischievously at them, “what if we wake them all up?”

John makes a face. “How?”

You inhale, putting your hands around your mouth, you scream, “wake the fuck up!” The sound echoed throughout the field and across the lake.

Your cousins let out a loud guffaw, you giggle at their reaction. John joins in, copying your actions.

“Wake up you wankers!” He yells, exhilaration filling his chest. “I've always wanted to say that.” Chuckling, he laughs louder at the face his sister is making.

“Johnathan!” His sister gasps next to him.

“What? Try it out! Come on then! No one's out here to tell us off.” John shakes her shoulder, giving you a wide grin.

“Join us in the dark side, Collette.” You sing song, “the birds need a wake up call.”

“You won't tell mother and father?” She asks the both of you. Wiggling, she’s excited.

Crossing your heart, you promise. “I won't, I'm not a tattletale.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die, Co.”

“Alright.” She exhales deeply before letting loud the loudest scream you've ever heard. “Wake up, cocksuckers!” It's so loud that you swear your eardrums are blown out. Smiling, she turns towards your surprised forms.

Now it's you and John's turn to gasp.

“Cocksucker?!” You exclaim, bewildered.

“Where'd you learn that, Co?!” John pokes his sister.

“I heard it when Mrs. Williams stubbed her toe during lessons.” She said shyly.

“Good on you, sis.” He pats her back. “Good on you.”

Collette looks at you expectantly. “Good show, Co.” You wink at her and she giggles happily.

Facing towards the thick trees across the lake, the birds still don't fly overhead. There's nothing but the wind rustling the branches.

“They didn't wake up though.” She says forlornly.

“What if we do it at the same time?” Your words have them smiling again.

“Yes!” They say simultaneously.

“Ready?” They both nod, taking in air before screaming their hearts out.

“Cocksuckers!” The three of you let out simultaneously. The canopy rustles and out comes a hundred or so birds from the thicket.

You all jump up and down, arms up in greeting the birds. Their feathers shine in the sun, light filtering through their wings. Iridescent blues and whites glowing, reflecting in your eyes. Wings flapping loudly, beaks held up high as they greet the sky with open wings.

Amidst the beauty of it all, you wish that he was there to witness it.

A tear slides down your cheek. You wipe it quickly before the twins notice. Head staring up at the sky, amidst all the beauty and light, there's a darkness swirling inside you. Amidst all the life around you, you feel the opposite. And you miss him. The worst part is, you see this place becoming your home.

>>> CHAPTER 13 II

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mistyresolve · 1 year

Text

| Give Me One More - Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count - 3.9k

Warnings/Tags - explicit, swearing, 18+ ONLY, praise, overstimulation, fingering, hj, spitplay, unprotected sex, creampie

Summary - The reader has never dealt with the heat very well. So when it’s time for sleep and they are having a hard time staying still Simon comes up with a plan to tire them out.

A/N - i am a firm believer that our mr. simon “ghost” riley is a service top, and is really in tune with his partner.

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It was the heat of summer, and it was hotter than the devil's anus. The original plan was to go out for a shopping day with a couple of friends, but it was cancelled for fear of heat stroke. In lieu of that, you stayed inside for the day and eat ice cubes on the couch while hate-watching "Days of Our Lives".

You had sent Simon a text midday to tell him he might have to pick up food on his way home because there was no way you were turning on the oven. He replied an hour later with: “Tacos.” He had also been oh so generous to bring you a slurpy too. The treat was so cold that there was precipitation dripping down the sides. Simon wasn’t able to tell you the flavour but it was a red one (chances were high it was cherry). It stained your tongue and lips that same obnoxious red. Simon had snuck a few sips for himself and he might have gotten away with it if it weren’t for the stain on his own mouth. He had a goofy grin when you confronted him, and he still tried to deny it.

When Simon disappeared into the ensuite to take a shower, you had followed him in. Steam rolled out from the glass but without being asked he turned the tap a little on the colder side for you. You squeezed a little shampoo onto his open palm and he set to massage it into your hair creating a thick lather. Extra attention at the temples and pressure points are the base of your neck. He spun you around to face him before dipping your head back into the water to rinse it all away. He placed a tender kiss on your exposed throat. Despite trying you couldn’t fight the smile back and laced your finger into his hair.

“It’s getting so long,” you commented, tugging at his scalp lightly. It wasn’t that you didn’t like it, you liked him no matter what he did. It was the fact that he never lets it get this long, knowing preferring his hair cropped for it was more comfortable under the mask, “Is it busy at work?” you asked. It would explain the hair and the tired eyes.

You knew what his job description was but never the details. It was both a security and moral issue. The relationship was a little rocky at the beginning when you were first coming to terms with the fact that he couldn’t completely open up to you. He did the best he could but some things he held tight to his chest.

Your gaze shifted to the copious scars and imperfections in his skin. Tracing a finger on a particularly gruesome slash on his bicep. He had told you it was from shrapnel, a rouge sheet of metal from a vehicle. Each time he returned for a mission you checked him for new injury. More often than not there was. Some wounds were smaller, little white lines peppering his arms and across his chest. Like little flecks of glitter against his skin. Some wounds were more harrowing. A few of them were nearly fatal. Like the angry stars that were left behind by bullets. Those ones you always paid extra attention to when you were on top of him. Running your open mouth across his skin.

His dark eyes flicked to your face as he moved to work the conditioner into your hair. You ran your finger up his arm to his lips and the little fading scar there. He’s yet to tell you where that one came from, all he’s said was that it was from before he enlisted. He pressed a kiss to the pads of your fingers.

“It’s picking up, yes,” his voice was rougher, as if it were covered in char and gunpowder. Even today the juxtaposition of your delicacy a juxtaposition to his occupation stuns him.

“Are they going to send you away?” You closed your eyes as the water and soap started to fall over your face. He quickly washed it all out so he could pull you out of the onslaught of water.

“Probably…not for long though. I’ll be speedy this time,” he flashed you a cocky smile, revealing faint lines around his eyes. The identical indents on his cheeks make you cup his face and turn it away from you. He was gorgeous, and sometimes it was a little too much for you to handle.

Once out of the shower, he let you wash any remaining black paint around his eyes with your array of skin care. Envy bubbled up into your chest for the length of his lashes. You let him smell your brand new rose toner, and he agreed when you asked if it smelt like candy. You tried to give him an overnight lip mask, but he swatted your hand away. He quibbled that if anyone found out he let you do that the damage to his reputation would be irreversible.

You padded after him back to the bedroom, and he tossed one of his shirts over his shoulder to you. You slipped into it, catching the underwear he tossed next. You give him a distasteful look. He picked the skimpiest, laciest pair he could possibly find. He had pulled on a loose pair of grey sweatpants, forgetting a shirt. His dog tags flashed as the light from the bathroom hit them. He leaned back against the dresser, resting his elbows behind him. His chosen position allowed you a view of his chest and thick waist. How many times have you run your hands up and down that body? Fingers following each ripple and dip of muscles. You eyed him as you pulled them on, slowly. Very slowly. A muscle in his jaw twitched as his brown eyes narrowed in on the action.

He made to grab at your waist when you hopped out of his reach. “It’s too hot for that tonight.”

He feigned innocence with a languid shrug, his broad shoulders raising and falling, “I wasn’t going to do anything.”

While you finished getting ready for bed he completed his nightly routine making sure all windows and doors were closed and locked. He pulled the sheets back and jumped in, holding an opening for you to slide into. He made a sound of contentment as you melded yourself against him. Wriggling a little more than you needed you.

“Careful, lassie. Play nice,” his accent grew thick as he wrestled with sleep.

“Always,” you purred before turning to face him.

Now that it was night and the sun had gone down, you half expected it to cool. To your dismay, it didn't. You shifted around the bed for an hour before finally kicking the blankets off your legs. A thin layer of sweat beaded on your chest and forehead.

The arm that circled around you, squeezed "Stop your moving," Simon mumbled into your back.

You tried to. For a full minute, you remained still but when another unbearable heat wave hits, you threw his arm off you and spread out on your stomach. Simon half lifts his head and opens a single eye to glare at you.

"You're like a furnace," you push his way from you, his body heat becoming unbearable.

"Are ya calling me hot, lovey?" There was a hint of humour coating his weary words.

"No. I'm saying that you're sweaty. The air is hot," you gasp, then add, "Are you not hot?"

"No," He echoes, "I'm about to kick you to the floor if you don't shut up,"

You groaned a "no" into the pillow. Then you felt a hand lift the hair from your neck, letting cold air onto the newly exposed skin. A delicious chill ran down your back, and a small smile grew on your lips.

"Then stop talking," his hand returned to you but this time to lift the back of your shirt. Again a cool breeze hit your back. You coo at him. Deft fingers run up and down your back, leaving goosebumps rising in his wake.

"We need a fan," you turn your head to him to find his eyes on you.

He flicked your forehead, hard enough for it to hurt and leave a red mark. You cover your forehead in shock. “Stop talking,” he says before turning away from you, “Or I’ll give you something to be all hot and bothered about.”

You freeze, considering. Then shake your head and rise from the bed. Then you kick off the flat sheet that was still tangled around your limbs and kneel on the bench that was situated in front of the window. You opened the window, leaning out as far as you could without the fear of falling out.

“Lift your shirt for me,” You hear from back within the room.

“Just ignore me some more. You did a really good job of it earlier,” You peek back into the room to see him rising from the bed. He freezes mid-motion when he sees that you see him. Then the both of you are moving. You're scrambling off the bench and making a break for the door. He nearly pounced on you, his arm going around your waist and the other around your mouth. He was surprisingly fast for his size. Then he’s lifting you off the ground, your bare legs flailing in the air, and hauling you back to the bed. Your fingers dig into the wrist of the hand covering your mouth.

Then the world is on its side as he tosses you onto the sheets. You erupt into giggles. His hands flip you so you're on your back. Next, he's kneeling between your legs, hoving over you. He lowered his face so it was mere inches from yours, his teeth flashing as he snarls, “You’d make an awful boot, you don't listen to anything I say,”

Resting your hands on his chest stopping him from coming any closer. Biting your lip you wrap your hand around his dog tags, not wanting him to leave either, “It’s too hot, Simon.” you still wrap your legs around his hips, pulling his groin closer to yours.

He tilts his head to the side, the movement predatory. His eyes were impossibly darker from beneath his silken hair. Your breathing hitched at the sight. His eyes flick to the bedroom door, his expression giving away the fact that he was devising a plan.

His hands go to your legs, removing them from around him. You’re about to object when he says, “I'll be right back,” and he vanishes out the door. You strained your ears to hear what he was doing but since he’s trained to remain unseen it was futile.

Now alone, you rise up on your elbows and take the moment to scan the room. Not a single piece of clothing was laying on the floor. The TV neither of you uses had begun to collect dust, and you made a mental note to deal with it later. Behind the TV was a small collection of pictures. Most of them you had taken yourself. Some were taken in secret and sent to you at a later date. Almost all of them were of Simon and yourself. One or two of them were of your late cat.

On Simon’s bedside table was a picture that was taken by your own mother. It was you and him sitting on the stairs to the front porch. You were looking off to something ahead of you, your hands out as you spoke animatedly about something. What you were saying you couldn’t recall now. But Simon was looking directly at you, the softest of smiles gracing his usually snarky mouth, his eyes covered by the ratty blue baseball cap. Lord have mercy, he really was beautiful. You got it framed and snuck it onto the table, he never said anything about it being there, but he never moved it from its original place. In fact, you were pretty sure he adjusted it so it was facing the bed more.

The door creaked open and Simon reentered, closing the door behind him. He with a glass of iced water. He downed half of it before handing the rest to you. You greedily finished off the rest. Ice tinkled in the glass as he placed it on the table next to the framed photo. Still standing above you he bites down and you hear the crunch of ice. A slick heat pools low in your abdomen.

“Oh,” it’s barely a word as it comes out. Suddenly shy, you shove your hand into the covers to keep from grabbing at him.

“Lay back for me?” it was hardly a question, but you still obeyed him. “Close your eyes.”

With your eyes closed you could hear him come closer to you. A calloused hand roamed to your side, lifting the shirt you are wearing up to just below your breasts. You released a slow breath, moving your own hands to his stomach feeling the hard muscle. Something cold and wet was placed on your bottom lip. You gasped, pulling back from the sensation. Ice cubes, you realize. Your chest rose and fell rapidly.

He left a trail of cold from your mouth to your neck. His own lips, cold from ice water, follow, letting his teeth drag across your skin. You tilt your head back, allowing him access to your throat. You let out a small squeak when he grabs another ice cube, this time tracing a line on your stomach. Goosebumps rose on your skin, and your eyes flew open to look at him. He was looking back up at you, analyzing every line and curve of your face.

"Better?" He said in a low voice. You hummed in response, your hands diving into his hair. "Good. Now shut yer fuckin’ mouth,"

He moves back up and puts his lips to yours, nipping at your lip. You open your mouth to him, his tongue diving in to explore you. Once again you wrap your legs around him, pulling him impossibly closer, tugging at the elastic of his sweats. All thoughts of the heat dissipated in the want of him. He pulled away from your mouth, leaving wet kisses down the length of your jaw, to the hollow of your throat, to your collarbone. It earned him a hard grind of your heat on him.

“Simon,” your voice was breathy and needy.

Then he was moving, lifting you to bring you back to the head of the bed. With his knees locking you in place, he raised above you to help take off your shirt. It disappeared into the shadows, and you were left bare to him, save for the little lacy panties of his choice. He was probably planning this from the beginning.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell” he groaned and ran a hand up from your stomach, trailing between your breasts and landing at your throat. His fingers delicately curled. You arched your back into the touch, eyelids fluttering shut. Again sweat beaded on your chest and forehead, only this time it was from a different time type of heat. Simon mumbled something as he brought his lips back to yours, but it was far too low for you to catch. The free hand drifted down the apex of your thighs, his finger digging into the bundle of nervousness there. The sound that came out of your mouth merely motivated him.

“Please,” you plead, grabbing his wrist with one hand, not to take it away but to make sure he doesn't remove it. He was silent as he worked you, little touches and small, tight circles. He wanted to observe all that he did to you.

If it weren’t for the slight tremble in his breathing you might have assumed he wasn’t enjoying this. That and the excitement shining in his brown eyes. His restraint was always impressive, but you wanted to see him snap.

Reach down between you and press your palm against the hardness hiding under his sweats. You traced the outline of his cock causing him to stumble in his movements, and eliciting an all male moan. His head fell to your shoulder.

“Slow,” he whispered into your skin, his breath fanning across your neck. Agonizingly slow you slipped your hand into his pants. He jerked at the touch. “Shit.”

He rocked his hips into your hand, timing it perfectly with his fingers. You squeezed around the head, and a dirty dirty sound escaped him. His fingers halted for a second before he could find his mind again. This time he shifted your panties to the side, dipping into your arousal, and coating his thick fingers.

“Jesus,” he muttered, looking down at his hand, “you dirty little thing. What do you want?”

“You,” you dragged a finger up this length.

“Nuh uh, tell me. Use your words,” he made a single teasing circle around your clit.

“I want your fingers inside me,” the words came out quicker than you expected them to. “Please.”

“Atta girl,” he’d be damned if he didn’t oblige you. Slowly moving a single finger inside, allowing you time to adjust. When you were ready you shifted your hips, leisurely rolling them. “There you go. Show me how you like it.”

He pumped once, twice. Added another finger. Then matched your rhythm, curling his fingers so they hit that one spot every time he dragged his fingers back out. Your hands continued with their own adventure, tugging his pants down just enough to free his cock. It knocked against his stomach, twitching when you grabbed him again. He sucked in a tight breath.

“Just like that, good girl,” he groaned. His fingers picked up speed and so did your hand. Both chasing an apex.

All you could manage was a strangled mess of words in response. You lifted your eyes to his only to see he was already looking at you. His brows taught with pleasure. Then a brash grin appeared. He removed his fingers from you, and you almost slapped him. The thought vanished when he shoved those same fingers into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. A silent command to open up. You opened your mouth and he leaned forward to spit. The sound of it was lewd, but you revelled in it. You whimpered before closing your mouth around his digits and sucked, running your tongue underneath and between them. Showing him what you’d do if he put his cock in your mouth instead.

“Put it in,” he gritted out if only to keep from whining. He pushed your panties off to the side again, allowing you access. You rubbed him around the wetness to make the entry easier. He was big, sometimes a little too big. Any bit of assistance you had you used when it came to him. Then you guided him in, biting down on his fingers to mediate the pain. He took his time, adjusting himself so he could place one hand on your hip and the other tangling in your hair.

You moaned in unison as he bottomed out. You reached out to grasp his face, pulling it to yours to catch him in a hot open mouthed kiss. Teeth gnashing and tongues darting out to lick and breathe each other in. His fingers tightened on your hip, hard enough that little finger shaped bruises would appear tomorrow. The hand that was previously in your hair moved to your thigh, pressing your leg out and down into the bed, allowing him deeper inside your cunt.

The room was filled with his guttural moans and your deprived whines. Along with the wet slapping sounds of him thrusting into your heat. You tightened around him and took that as a sign you were close because his movements became faster and deeper. One hand slapped over your mouth because you knew this apex was going to make you scream. You were already shaking, bucking against him. Your other hand grappled at the sheets, pulling at them in desperation. He shifted, bringing his knees underneath you so your hips were elevated, and both hands were at your hips, bringing you onto him. The position made it so he’d hit your g-spot, and that was the end of you.

“Cum for me baby,” he huffed as he watched you stiffen and your eyes rolled. Your vision goes momentarily, and your back bowed off the bed. All followed by a choked sob. A hand flying to where you connected, pressing against his abdomen to try and slow his relentless pace. Before you were able to completely come down from the orgasm, he flipped you onto your stomach. “Give me one more.”

You mewed at him. His hand made a quick swipe along your cunt making you jolt and shoved himself back inside. He lifted your hips off the bed so you were on your knees. You were acutely aware of the slick that leaked down the inside of your thighs. With your ass still up for him you slid your upper half back down onto the bed, muffling your moans into the bed. He braced both his hands beside your head, the position reminding you just how much bigger he was than you. He captured one of your hand's underneath his, fingers intertwining. You used your free one to get underneath you and rub your clit. He noticed the action and lulled his forehead so it was resting on your back, his cock twitching inside of you. His own hand possessively replaced yours between your legs.

Let me take care of you, it said.

You wrapped around his wrist, in case you needed to pull him away as you were nearing overstimulation. His breath fanned across your neck, and his lips found your skin. Sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin just below your ear.

It felt like he was everywhere, engulfing you. All but one pillow had ended up on the floor, and you pulled it into your face, biting at the fabric as yet another climax hit you. It wasn’t long after you that Simon followed, his pace stuttering as he filled you. His last couple thrust harder and more desperate than the rest. He stifled a whimper and the sound of your name on his lips was like ecstasy.

“Shit,” he said under his breath. Eyes watchful as he pulled out of you, and more specifically his cum leaking out. He dragged a finger up your cunt, catching it all before shoving it back inside. “Mm’my god.”

You pulled away from his touch, even the slightest pressure right now would make you sob.

“I love you,” he turned you onto your side, his hand gentle on your skin. Skimming over your curves.

“I love you more,” you teased, pushing his hair back away from his now-damp face. Your heart skipped at the sight of him. When he was completely at ease like this he looked so youthful. Every worry and burden lifted off his shoulders ever so slightly.

“Want a wet cloth?” he leaned into your touch, before pulling away when you nodded.

He returned with a warm, damp cloth. Wiping at you as gently as he could, then moved to your thighs, and stomach. Your face heated when you realized he was covered in your arousal too. The V leading down to his manhood was glistening with it. Although he didn’t seem to care it made you a little sheepish.

“Maybe another shower,” you said, sitting up and pulling him back into the bathroom.

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#simon riley x you #ghost x reader #cod x y/n #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost smut #simon riley smut #lemon #simon riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #cod ghost #cod smut #MistyGhosties #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader

1K notes · View notes

starsandhughes · 6 months

Text

Penalty Box Series— Trevor Zegras Edition (Eight)

23-24 Season Masterlist

previous: seven

next: nine

this is so short i’m sorry! i’m still playing catch up

NOVEMBER 1, 2023

yourusername

liked by tterry19, trevorzegras, and 19,723 others

yourusername welcome back to my postgame penalty box update show: my boyfriend might be moving into the penalty box edition!

after sitting for part of leason's penalty in the first (because my mans is the default criminal), trevor got his own penalty bestowed to him for slashing travis dermott in the third! my poor baby didn't even know he did it :( but alas, he did the crime, and he did the time

scared of watching a game loss? never fear! the duckies are here! my boys got their fifth straight win tonight in overtime against the coyotes! the best part about this? MY DAD, TROY TERRY, SCORED HIS SECOND CAREER HAT TRICK TONIGHT! it was completed in overtime where he scored the game winning goal after scoring the first two, and he's the first duck EVER to score a hat trick in overtime! i’m so proud of you, dad! i love you! @/tterry19

AND FRANKIE! FRANKIE TANKIE! THANK YOU FOR FIGHTING! YOU SINGLE HANDEDLY BECAME MY GOD FOR THE NIGHT! MWAH! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! STAY CRAZY!

and to my sweet boy, i'm sorry you've got a pointless drought, but you're playing great! it's the beginning of the season, you'll pop off soon enough! i love you, always🧡

p.s. LEO, MY SON! YOU BROUGHT US INTO OVERTIME AND I'M SO PROUD OF YOU FOR THAT! I LOVE YOU!

tagged trevorzegras and frank_vatrano

view all 133 comments

trevorzegras i love you, forever, my favorite personal cheerleader🧡

yourusername coachy cro doesn't call me the ducks's human mascot for nothing! but i’ll always be your cheerleader first🫶

trevorzegras aww, you sap

yourusername for you? always

trevorzegras that's three times you've said always! that's a love hatty

yourusername i'd call something different a love hatty, but i’ll take it! go me!

trevorzegras you're thinking of a horny hatty

yourusername ah yes, how could i get them confused?

trevorzegras silly girl!

jamie.drysdale oh my god make it stop

yourusername @/jamie.drysdale jealous much?

trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale green is not a good color on you

jamie.drysdale i quit

yourusername maybe the twins will split into three and we can have a baby hatty!

trevorzegras that's so many babies

yourusername and we would love them all!

trevorzegras yes we would, sweet girl

jamie.drysdale oh so NOW you decide to be cute

yourusername @/jamie.drysdale we have depth

user7 okay but that fight was hot as fuck and suddenly... i’m on my knees for vatrano

user33 DEFAULT CRIMINAL HA

_quinnhughes how does it feel to be below me on the penalty totem pole, zegras?

trevorzegras you're at two games

_quinnhughes and you have 8 penalty minutes 10 games into the season

yourusername laideez, laideez, save the animosity for november 28th!

trevorzegras @/yourusername you have a "we can't fuck with each other" rule

_quinnhughes @/yourusername you're sending mixed signals, sissy

yourusername @/trevorzegras @_quinnhughes trip him

trevorzegras @/yourusername who was that for??

yourusername @/trevorzegras yes

user6 "my poor baby didn't even know he crimed" and it's not even the first time😭

yourusername @/trevorzegras yeah, BABE! don't touch kivi's stick!! and apparently don't do that other thing!!

trevorzegras @/yourusername IT DIDN'T USED TO BE A RULE

yourusername @/trevorzegras SO YOU SHOULD'VE TESTED IT OUT AGAINST NOT THE STARS

trevorzegras @/yourusername you're right, i’m sorry

user39 i need to know what vatrano and durzi were saying to get z's jaw to drop

jamie.drysdale our boy is trying to defenseman that's why he's not rallying up those points obviously

yourusername damn and i thought he was trying to become a goalie

jamie.drysdale you're not very observant, my ex dear

yourusername bite me, my ex husband

yourusername psa to everyone: I'M WITH HIM AND HE ACTUALLY BIT ME

jamie.drysdale psa to everyone: she bit me back and whacked me

yourusername psa to everyone: i also bit mason just for funzies

masonmctavish23 i gotta stop hanging out with you three after games

yourusername @/masonmctavish23 but then you'd be lame

jamie.drysdale @/masonmctavish23 don't be lame

masonmctavish23 is this a cult? it feel like a cult

trevorzegras @/masonmctavish probably

user20 the ducks: ceo of comebacks this season

leocarlssoon i love you, too, mom! i scored just for you!

yourusername you're such a good son🧡

trevorzegras it wasn't for... ya know... the team?

yourusername @/trevorzegras not everything is about you, trevor

leocarlssoon @/trevorzegras shhh what she doesn't know won't hurt her

trevorzegras @/leocarlssoon you really are a good son!

user16 BEAUTIFUL, ANXIETY INDUCING, GAME!

tterry19 thank you! i love you, too

yourusername AHHHHHHH

trevorzegras and she means that

tterry19 you crazy, kids😂

jackhughes @/trevorzegras this isn't very sissy's fiancé of you

trevorzegras listen, i'm trying

yourusername he's making passes!! the other guys just aren't scoring either!!

jackhughes @/trevorzegras do you always make your girl fight your battles?

trevorzegras @/jackhughes i’ve seen you jump over the couch screaming because she started lunging at you

jackhughes @/trevorzegras unimportant

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes we used to call her scary sissy

jackhughes @/lhughes_06 also unimportant

yourusername @/jackhughes don't get all cocky just because i’m pregnant and can't jump you. i remember everything. i have other ways to attack you.

jackhughes @/yourusername please don't

trevorzegras @/yourusername that's my girl!

user44 sissy is feeling a lil ratty tonight i see

frank_vatrano your god for tonight?😂 i'll accept that! i love you, too!

yourusername as you should!

trevorzegras @/yourusername i can't believe you're hoeing stromer like this

yourusername @/trevorzegras he's my HERO not my god! i can't believe you think i’d do that to my stromer

frank_vatrano @/yourusername then who's normally your god?

yourusername @/frank_vatrano me

frank_vatrano @/yourusername that's taking god complex to a whole new level

trevorzegras @/frank_vatrano she is next level

yourusername @/trevorzegras SIMP

trevorzegras @/yourusername for you? forever🧡

#penalty box series #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras fanfic #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras au #trevor zegras insta edit #quinn hughes #jack hughes #jamie drysdale #luke hughes #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #jamie drysdale imagine #jack hughes imagine #quinn hughes imagine #mason mctavish

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thecuriousquest · 6 months

Note

Dabihawks x winged leader??? 🫣 I’m thinking if she hides the wing clippers long enough and got out? I know that’s not much to go on and but no means do you have to do it if it’s not enough 🤗

Guardian Angel

Nah you good homie. I’ve got this! Thanks for the idea!

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug @palesweetscherryblossom

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, abuse, quirk abuse, isolation, reader punished, mentions of burning, mentions of spanking, mentions of cutting, kidnapping, dismemberment, death, revenge fic

Note: Reader’s quirk in this is just like Keigo’s but your wings are even tougher than his.

—————————————————————————

So, the game is on. Dabi and Hawks will be hunting for the clippers until they realize you hid them. Then, it’s basically good cop/bad cop. You see, these aren’t just regular clippers we’re talking about. Your feathers are special, extremely resistant to normal clippers. They appear feather-like, but the molecular structure of them makes it so that they can’t be easily cut. It’s like trying to cut through a diamond with a regular pair of clippers. No, they need state of the art clippers especially designed for you, and it takes a long, long while to craft those special clippers.

Now, you think it would be Keigo being the good guy and Dabi being the bad guy, right? Wrong. Dabi’s the one you’d rather have to deal with because Keigo is fucking insane. The most harm Dabi would do to you is brand you with his flaming palm. However, Keigo’s a real meanie. He’s cutting you with his feathers until you start talking.

You manage to stay silent long enough, making them grow more anxious by the day as they see your feathers fanning out to their full extent. They can’t get the clippers crafted in time because the store has to order special grade materials that they just don’t have on hand at the moment.

So, even more time passes, and you take the scoldings, the beatings, the verbal abuse. You take it with grace because you have a flicker of hope to hold onto now.

Chains do nothing, you just cut right through them. Locking you in your bedroom is of no help. You just use your feathers to pick the lock on the door or shred the door in half. (They always look so dumbfounded when you just walk out of your room like they didn’t try to lock you in there).

You don’t let them bully you around anymore now that you have your quirk back at full strength. Dabi tries to brand you? You cut that bitch’s arms up. Hawks tries to bend you over his knee for a paddling with his feather or cut you like meat? You threaten to slash his achilles tendons with your feathers.

Now that you’re back to normal, you simply…dismember them? You cut them apart brutally for everything they’ve done to you. Every stab with your feather is ingrained with the memory of them kidnapping you, hurting you, mistreating you in such vile ways.

Covered in blood, you fly out of their apartment feeling weightless and free. Death to your tormentors, death to them all. You become an angel of vengeance, a vigilante stalking those who domestically harm their partners and kids so that you can “take out the trash”. This is your new life as the Guardian Angel.

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whatdoeseverybodywant · 3 months

Text

You're the Only Girl for Me - Chapter 12

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

All OC Characters belong to me

Series Masterlist

taglist: @christinabae @southerngirl41 @jeyusos-girl @jeyusosgirl @reci1996 @melaninsugababy @bemybabiibish @jstarr86 @baconeggndcheez @nbanenefrmdao @purplehairgawdess @arination99 @alyyaanna @m3llowww @jeysbae @empressdede @theninthwonder @badbitchcentralinc @bluesole16 @leaderofthebadbitchbrigade @bebesobrielo @venusesworld @babysyhsyh

**if your name is bold, tumblr won’t let me tag you**

February 4th 2021 - Pensacola FL

It had taken 3 weeks to get Josh moved into his new place and have it up to par for when Tracy brought the boys down. Tracy had insisted that she needed to make sure that her kids weren’t being brought to some ‘crack house’.... those were her exact words and it pissed Josh off, and brought on an argument that had her pushing back the boys visit another week.

“So you ready to see your boys?” Airielle had as she excitedly bounced on her toes. She was beyond happy for him because she knew how much he missed them and Josh couldn’t wipe the smile off his face, no matter how hard he tried.

“Hell yeah.” He said, grabbing his keys off the counter. “You sure you don’t wanna come with me to pick them up” Airielle nodded her head.

“I’m sure. You spend the day with your boys and I'll meet up with y’all for dinner.” She cupped his cheek when he gave her a look. “I promise I'm not tryna run away or anything. I’m really excited to meet them. It’s just…” She paused and bit her lip.

“Tracy” He said and nodded his head in understanding. “Aight, i’ll call before comin’ to pick you up.” She nodded and grabbed her purse before walking out the door with him. She let him walk her to her car and placed a kiss on his lips before driving away.

Airielle groaned as she entered her apartment and saw Joe lounging on her couch.

“Don’t you have a home?” Joe rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, but I like being here. Whatchu’ doing here anyway. I thought you were meeting Jahair and Jahmir?” Airielle grabbed two waters out of the fridge and sat down on the couch passing him one.

“Yeah later on. Their mom wants to see Josh’s apartment to make sure it meets her standards or something,”

“You ain’t wanna see her? Size up the competition?” She sent him a glare that made him laugh and hold up his hands. “I’m kidding” she hummed and rolled her eyes.

“I can deal with him having kids, but the whole baby mama slash ex-wife thing,” She shrugged “Imma have to work up to that.” Joe chuckled and nodded his head.

“Yeah, Trace can be a bit much at times I don’t blame you.” Airielle shrugged again

“I mean, if I wanna stay with Josh, imma have to meet her eventually just not now.”

The butterflies in Airielle’s stomach intensified as she heard a knock on the door. She knew Josh liked to actually meet her at her door instead of her coming down to his car, but she thought him having his sons that he would make an exception.

All of the nervousness left her body when she opened the door though. Josh stood there with his usual bouquet of flowers but his two sons also had one rose each in their hands. “Hey,” He smirked and handed her the bouquet and his sons followed suit with their single roses.

“Thank you.” She said smiling at the youngest, Jahmir who blushed and hid behind his father's legs.

“I stopped to get ya’ flowers and the boys wanted to get you some too.” Airielle placed a hand over her heart and thanked the two boys again before letting the three of them in so she could put the flowers in the vase.

“Thank you guys. My other flowers were starting to become withered.” Josh led the boys over to the couch before grabbing Airielle’s hand and going into her bedroom, cracking the door. “What? What’s wrong?”

Josh sighed and grabbed her hands, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of them. “Don’t be mad at me aight?” When she nodded, Josh continued. “Tracy is coming out with us tonight.”

“Oh.” Airielle said, pulling her hands out of his grasp and wrapping her arms around herself. “I thought she was just flying down with them and leaving.”

“She was, but uh- Mir brought you up and she said there was no way she was letting her kids meet you without her meeting you first.” Airielle sighed and sat on her bed. “I’m sorry Rih”

“I mean I guess it’s okay.”

“You sure?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “Cause it’s okay if you don’t want to meet her.” Airielle shook her head.

“No, it's cool. I wanna spend time with you and your boys.” Josh nodded with a big smile on his face.

“Aight bet, come on before they start tearing up ya’ living room.”

AirielleJones

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Airielle had never felt more awkward in her whole entire life. Josh had warned her that Tracy could be a bit much but.. Jesus she was insufferable. Everything was cool at the arcade, Jahmir and Jahir had pulled Airielle and Josh all around the arcade while Tracy stayed at the table with their stuff.

Airielle could avoid Tracy at the arcade by walking away when she was around, but it was at dinner that they sat across from each other and Tracy kept sending Airielle glares when she would try to talk to Jahir or Jahmir, Tracy would answer for them as if she didn’t want Airielle talking to her kids.

Josh glared at Tracy as he leaned closer to whisper into Airielle’s ear. “Don’t worry bout her aight? As soon we done eating me, you and the boys can leave.” Airielle sighed and nodded her head. She had no clue as to why Tracy was making everything so difficult.

Yeah, they used to be married and they were together for a long time, but from what Josh had told her, Tracy had been moved on and the boys had already met her new boyfriend without any interference from Josh.

“So Arabella-”

“Oh, it’s Airielle.” Tracy shrugged and waved her hand dismissively

“Same thing.” Airielle let out an exasperated sigh as she grabbed her cup and took a sip. “So I hear you work for the WWE too.” Airielle nodded. “Are you a wrestler as well? I don’t remember seeing you on T.V”

Airielle resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “No, I’m not a wrestler, I'm a backstage interviewer.” Tracy frowned her face up.

“Oh, that sounds boring.”

“Oh well it’s not” Airielle shot back immediately then cut her eyes towards Josh who had covered his mouth with his hand, trying to hide his smile.

“Daddy, I'm tired.” Jahmir interrupted and Airielle sent out a silent prayer. Finally she could get away from Tracy. Josh gave Airielle his card so she could pay and took the two boys to the bathroom. Airielle immediately took the card and rushed over to the counter so she could pay.

“Is that my husband's cuban?” Airielle’s hand flew up to the chain on her neck. “It looks just like the one I got him for his birthday last year.”

Airielle sighed. “Ex-husband and No, it’s not his.” Was all Airielle said, getting the receipt and walking out of the restaurant with Tracy hot on her heels.

“You know,” Tracy said once she and Airielle were outside “I think you would look so much better without all that make-up. Your skin is probably crying out for a break.” Airielle let out a loud laugh, tilting her head. Her eyes twinkled with amusement. Tracy was trying to get a rise outta her but it wasn’t going to work.

“My skin is fine, thank you very much.” She rolled her eyes, still laughing. It was at the moment Airielle wished Josh gave her the keys to the car because if Tracy said one more thing to her, Airielle wasn’t sure if she’d be able to hold it together. Luckily Josh and the boys finally came out. Airielle stood there awkwardly as she and Josh waited for the boys to say goodbye to their mother.

Tracy turned to Airielle and gave her one final up and down glance before saying “I guess it was nice meeting you.” And walked off before Airielle could say anything back.

“Thank you.” Josh said, breaking Airielle out of her thoughts. He had just finished putting the boys to bed. She finished wrapping her hair up before turning towards him, a confused look on her face.

“For what?” Josh shrugged and patted the spot on the bed next to him so she could come lay next to him.

“I know you wasn’t too happy about having to spend the day with Tracy” He said as she climbed into the bed next to him. “So thank you for still coming and spending time with me and the boys.”

“It was no big deal.” She shrugged. “I mean, no I wasn’t ready to meet your ex, but it was gonna happen eventually right?” She laid down and propped herself up on her elbow. “Besides, I’m happy I got to meet your kids today. they’re cool as fuck.” She smiled and Josh knew right then and there he was in love.

AHHHH! they're so cute 😭🥰

sorry in advance about the next couple chapters

#wwe #jey uso #jey uso x black reader #jey uso imagine #main event jey uso #jey uso x reader #wwe x black reader #jey uso fanfic #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso fluff #jey uso x fem reader #jey uso x oc #wwe x fem reader #blackwriters #black reader

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lovelyhan · 1 year

Text

— favorite poison (a teaser) ⟢

pairing: wonwoo x reader

summary: no strings attached sex is easy. catching feelings for a person you supposedly hate is hard. it's in times like this when wonwoo wishes he can set the dial on his life on easy mode forever, but everyone knows he's nothing if not stubbornly competitive.

word count 1.8k words

tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, attempt at humor, in denial!wonwoo, fluff, smut (in later scenes, although this teaser is a bit suggestive)

warnings: mentions of twitter porn, daddy kink, suggestive situations (minors dni!!), reader becomes visibly uncomfortable around one of the characters

notes: this is the sequel to underlying pretense! as with all my teasers so far, it's always the first scene that comes up in these posts HEH the title is based off fuller's song, favorite poison bc it just screams in denial wonwoo :')

“So when are you introducing me?”

The buzz of visitors inside the convention hall is already grating enough as it is, but when Mingyu walks over to Wonwoo’s designated booth, all it does is irritate him further.

He doesn’t exactly have to do anything aside from receive gifts from the viewers coming to pay him a visit, and take a few photos with them, but Wonwoo is yet to accustom himself to being the center of attraction in front of so many people. So having to listen to his roommate-slash-best friend asking him stupid questions isn’t exactly helping his case.

“To who? My family?” Wonwoo scoffs.

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “No. Your girlfriend, genius.”

“What the hell are you even talking about?”

His best friend pouts and Wonwoo is having a really tough time taking him seriously because Mingyu is wearing one of those hats with bunny ears that flop around if you press the buttons dangling from the front. “You’re always scampering off with some girl from time to time. The others haven’t noticed, but I’m your roommate, hyung.”

“What gave you the impression that I’m ‘scampering off’ with just one girl, though?” Wonwoo smirks, shaking his head.

Roughly three months have passed since Wonwoo bit the bullet and agreed to be your…fuck buddy? Not-so-friend with benefits? Whatever this arrangement is called, he’s satisfied with getting to let off steam every once in a while, and you don’t seem to have any complaints as long as he fucked you stupid and helped you make filthy content for all the world to see.

Honest to god, it’s a miracle how shit hasn’t hit the fan yet. But then again, you and Wonwoo were both careful and extremely selective about what gets posted on your secret Twitter porn account, and what stays tucked away in the hidden galleries in your phones. That sort of cautiousness is rewarded with having to get away with everything you’re both daring enough to pull off behind the scenes.

Still, it doesn’t change the fact that, outside his sexual relations with you, Twitch streamers everyone_woo and Koyahngi pretty much hate each other’s guts. Even if yours is the best fucking pussy he’s ever had (something you’ll never catch him dead admitting aloud), he’s not about to do a complete one-eighty degrees and treat you any differently in front of his friends and followers. You don’t seem to have any plans on doing that either.

Wonwoo hasn’t once brought you to their shared apartment, so he’s certain that Mingyu is basing all his hunches off pure intuition alone. And just because that intuition turns out to be somewhat right (PSA: you’re not his girlfriend), doesn’t mean Wonwoo has to come clean about his goings-on.

Besides, they’re at a fucking convention. Why is Mingyu trying to hotseat him now?

“Whatever you say, elusive gamer who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman that isn’t his mom.”

“Fuck you, you know that’s not true.”

“Well, obviously, you’re smitten with someone, and once I find out who it is, I’m throwing the biggest party in Seoul,” Mingyu says with a huff of indignance coloring his words. He says it like it’s a threat, and Wonwoo makes a face at him.

“Why?” he asks with a scowl.

“Because I love you, that’s why.” Mingyu then takes off the stupid hat and places it on top of Wonwoo’s head—even putting the work into making sure it fits and everything. “Anyway, I’m heading off to Koyahngi’s booth to say hi. You wanna come with or do you still have a stick up your ass when it comes to hanging out with her?”

Wonwoo has to keep himself from blurting out how he’s not the one with anything up his ass when it comes to you, but realizes that if he wants to get Mingyu off his back, he probably shouldn’t make traumatizing allusions to his sex life.

“I can’t exactly leave my spot until the main program starts. The same goes for you, idiot,” Wonwoo points out. “Who knows how many of your subscribers are looking for you at your booth? Go away and tend to them first.”

Mingyu pouts again, but since his best friend is a guy that’s literally a six-foot wall of muscle, Wonwoo doesn’t feel even an ounce of sympathy for him. “I haven’t even been gone for ten minutes! I just wanted to see how my friends are doing.”

“Then you shouldn’t have set up a booth at all, Gyu.”

“Hmph. You’re always so stingy, hyung.” Mingyu crosses his arms before turning on his heel. “Anyway, I’m heading over to Koyahngi’s. I heard she’s cosplaying Sage today. Not that you care though.”

He sounds so genuinely sulky that Wonwoo would’ve laughed a little as Mingyu stomps away to head to your booth. But the mention of you dressing up as a Valorant agent that Wonwoo has started to despise since meeting you makes a couple of memories from earlier this week resurface in his mind.

Aside from the catgirl gimmick, your cosplays are but another selling point for your streams. You dubbed it the catgirlification of every playable character I like right after Wonwoo railed you two days ago in that same Sage cosplay that Mingyu just mentioned.

What a fucking weirdo, Wonwoo mused for a second before blowing your back out again not five minutes later.

About an hour later, the program on the main stage was in full swing, and Wonwoo just finished doing a little segment with Soonyoung that one of the fans who won a raffle requested for them to do. It was a Pocky Game that got a little too intense because Soonyoung wouldn’t stop fucking squirming, and they nearly kissed in front of the entire audience. Wonwoo doesn’t entirely mind because PR is PR, after all.

The thing he does end up minding, though, comes a little later—after the convention hall settles into a more relaxed atmosphere and everyone is back to booth-hopping.

Despite what he told Mingyu earlier, Wonwoo took it upon himself to do some wandering around. It’s kind of nice to see other streamers and content creators he’s only ever got to interact with on Discord or their respective streams.

But while he’s munching on a cherry-shaped cookie that Seungcheol is handing out to his visitors, the bane of his existence swoops down on him just when he thought he could finish this entire event in peace.

“Hey, daddy,” you giggle into his ear before swiping the cookie out of his hands, tossing it into your mouth without a second thought. “Didn’t think I’d get to see you today.”

Wonwoo clicks his tongue before shrugging off the arm you draped around his shoulder. “What do you want?”

“Nothing in particular,” you hum before swallowing the food you just stole from him. “But now that I got a taste of Cheol’s cherry cookies, I kinda want some more. Do you know where he is?”

“I think I saw him flirting with a bunch of cosplayers near the stage.”

Wonwoo startles at the sound of a third party’s voice intruding in your conversation, and from the looks of it, you’re just as startled as he is. Turning around, though, his apprehension ebbs away when he recognizes who it is.

“Johnny,” he says with a small surprised smile before offering his hand for a casual shake. “It’s been a while.”

The famous streamer returns Wonwoo’s gesture gingerly, but he realizes that Johnny’s gaze isn’t trained on him at all.

“It has been,” he chuckles before turning to you. “I didn’t know you were friends with Wonwoo, doll. How you got someone as cold as he is to warm up to you is beyond me, but at least you’re expanding your network.”

Wonwoo would’ve rolled his eyes. Johnny is just as frank as he remembers. But before Wonwoo can point out that: 1.) you and him are not friends; and 2.) he is not a cold person, and therefore has absolutely no need to warm up to anyone, he quickly picks up on the sudden shift in the air. And it’s not his or Johnny’s discomfort he’s sensing right now.

“Nah, you’ve got the wrong idea,” you respond to Johnny casually, but Wonwoo doesn’t miss how your fists are clenched at your sides. “Wonwoo would rather get banned from Twitch than call me his friend. I just like pissing him off every now and again is all~ That, and his friends are pretty cool, so I need to tolerate him.”

Johnny laughs before reaching down to ruffle your carefully styled wig. To others, it would’ve looked like a display of casual affection between friends, but Wonwoo is keen enough to notice how you momentarily flinched from the older streamer’s touch. His brows knit together as he attempts to figure out what was going on.

Actually, how do you even know Johnny in the first place?

“Anyway, I’ll be going now,” he laughs before letting one eye drop into a wink. “It’s good to see both of you. Enjoy the rest of the convention, yeah?”

As Johnny makes his exit, you’re a little too quick to fill in the silence that he left.

“You’ve gotta take me to Cheol before he runs out of cookies,” you whine, tugging on his arm with a persistent look on his face—not even breathing a word about Johnny, as if it hasn’t been two minutes since he left. “I’m pretty sure I saw him wearing a Pikachu onesie, so he should be easy to—”

Wonwoo immediately cuts you off with a quick yank of your wrist. As he leads you to one of the unoccupied restrooms near the convention hall, your voice drones in annoyingly repetitive succession in his ears while you struggle to free yourself from his grip, but Wonwoo just won’t budge.

Not when he can’t get the sight of you with genuine fear in your gaze when you first laid your eyes on Johnny out of his head.

“Shit,” you whisper hoarsely the moment Wonwoo slams you against the door—a shit-eating grin resting haughtily on your lips as he nudges your thighs apart. “I knew you were possessive, but not this much. Johnny just gave me a few headpats, daddy. It doesn’t mean a thing.”

Yeah. Wonwoo is totally doing this out of some pathetic, alpha male need to stake his claim after another man got his grubby hands on you. Not because he was bothered by that look on your face, and can’t think of any other way to help get your mind off it aside from fucking you senseless in a public bathroom.

“Shut up,” he murmurs before forcing your cheek against the cold door. “Now take off your leggings before I tear a hole in it myself. Can’t mess up your perfect fucking Sage cosplay now, can we?”

You let out a noise caught between a sigh and a whimper as you do as you're told. From three months ago to now, your general opinion on Jeon Wonwoo as a dom has yet to change. Even if he was about to rail you with a fluffy bunny beanie still resting on top of his head.

He’s fucking perfect.

the full fic can now be found here!

#seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #svt smut #svt fanfic #wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #lovelyhan

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therealtsk · 4 months

Text

What Your Favorite Worm Ship Says About You

some people have found my crusty, old ass tumblr post on this very topic, so im making a new one with my updated opinions! Cause those are, in fact, allowed to change. Enjoy! Taylor x Lisa: you're into relationships that could be dysfunctional or healthy with one push in either direction. also something something sun lesbian moon lesbian. Taylor x Rachel: You love dogs, and you want a girlfriend who can kick your ass. You're also into bomber jackets. I respect you. Taylor x Alec: Sadly, you do exist, and you did make it weird. Go away! Taylor x Amy: You read altpowers on the daily and complain about canon worm being too grimdark. Solid odds on you having never read worm. To be clear, it's worse if you have. also something something FBI OPEN UP Taylor x Victoria: You like the vibes of Lisa and Taylor's dynamic, but you want them to be a little more heroic and a little less dysfunctional. But only a little. Taylor x Clockblocker: You're straight and liked that one joke that cropped up. I also haven't seen any of you in a hot minute, thank god. No offense but this ship is mad boring.

Taylor x Sophia: You've come to realize that Sophia is a great character who gets done extremely dirty by the rest of the fandom. Also, rivals to lovers. Taylor x Emma: This can go one of two ways. Either you adore childhood friends to lovers, or you love enemies to lovers. Either way, you're obsessed with hurt and/or comfort fics. Taylor x Theo: You actually read Worm and recognize that Theo is criminally underrated in the fandom. Now just stop shipping him with Taylor and you'll complete the next step on your journey to enlightenment.

Taylor x Simurgh: I can't say for sure you're a anime fan, but you're definitely at least a little bit of a monsterfucker. also something something inherent eroticism of being world-destroying power couple. Taylor x Greg. You read Worm SI's unironically and get really defensive when people say that Greg is an incel. Completely unrelated, you haven't spoken to a woman other then your mother in five years. Taylor x Cherie: I've been informed this is a ship. I've yet to be informed as of a reason why I should like it. Cherie likers stay mad!

Lisa x Rachel: I don't remember the last time I saw this ship that wasn't also tagged as a polycule with Taylor, so I'm going to go out on a limb and say you're an OT3 enjoyer.

Lisa x Victoria: You’re into the “enemies to lovers” trope, but more of the "Spiderman x Black Cat" type then the "you murdered my entire home town but i can't help but find you sexy" type. Also you have a thing for blondes

Lisa x Faultline: Your ideal relationship dynamic is bickering married couple. You're also into heist movies.

Lisa x Simurgh: You have a thing for smart girls... who hate you. Also, you really liked Part of the Whole. Contessa x Alexandria: You're fucking based. Also something something inherent eroticism of girlbosses winning Contessa x Numberman: you're friends with Peri and enjoy memes about pants and math Numberman x Jack Slash: You think serial killers are hot and are starved for m/m ships. Danny x Eidolon: You're losersexual and are starved for m/m ships. Also you frequent r/wormemes Danny x Miss Militia: Honestly, i think you all died out. I couldn't be happier, this ship is fucking dumb. Amy x Literally Anyone Besides Taylor: listen, there's like a hundred different jokes i could make here, but all of them boil down to amy defenders always defending the rapist for some reason so let's just agree amy defenders are fucking cringe and move on Dragon x Defiant: You understand that this is unironically the only healthy relationship in worm with some of the best character growth and romance in the entire story, and a majority of all of it happens off screen. You're extremely bitter that so many fanfics do both of them so dirty they get beaten into different characters. Alec x Aisha: You like the idea of this ship, cause two pranksters making everyone miserable is the kinda vibe you enjoy, but constantly run into the issue that Alec is...well. Alec. That or you're into Alec's brand of shit, in which case, FBI OPEN UP Aisha x Missy: You read It's Cold Out There Every Day. I did too. Fuck, this fic is so good. I'm going to go cry about the ending again. Lily x Sabah: Yes, you know the age gap is a little problematic, you just want to be happy with your relatively healthy canon lesbians goddamn it Purity x Literally Anyone: You don't understand why people keep calling you racist. You're not! You're just weirdly defensive of the hot milf who murders people of color and seem to constantly bring up that Kaiser didn't actually believe the nazi propaganda he was peddling. You are racist btw Taylor x Brian: You...are Wildbow

#worm #parahumans #wormblr #shipping #all of my opinions are objectively correct btw #if you disagree with me you are wrong and must improve yourself #@ everyone reading this and being upset i didn't include your incredibly niche ship: stay mad #jokes aside im only including stuff i've actually seen in like.#more then one or two fics

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xxnghtclls · 8 months

Text

Permission

Chapter 30

(Chapter 29; Chapter 31)

True Form Sukuna x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Graphic Depiction Of Violence

Please see Chapter 1 for tags! Permission

The Embrace

You reach out your hand while you run to him, screaming his name from the top of your lungs.

“SUKUNA!!”

Step.Step.Step

“SUKUNAA!”

Your voice almost gives up. However, you’re close, watching him fighting in front of a barn. His movements are fast, the men have no chance.

“SUKUNAAA!” you keep shouting and shouting and in the break of a second, you see his head turning, when suddenly

Bam!

The air gets knocked out from your lungs, as someone gets pushed into your left side, tackling you to the ground. You almost lose your dagger during the impact. A stinging pain shoots right through your heart again, making you hiss in agony, before you look to your left. The person who attacked you lies dead on the ground right next to you. His throat is slashed. Your eyes widen in shock and you look into the direction he came from and see another man, grinning widely at you, holding up his knife.

Fuck no!

He starts coming at you, but you’re fast enough to hurry back on your feet and start to sprint back into Sukunas direction. The man follows you, giggling like a maniac while he does. As soon as you’re back on track, looking forward, you suddenly see Sukuna’s silhouette in front of huge flames approaching you with fast, heavy steps. Your heart skips a beat, as you see him approach you, until there’s only a few yards distance between you.

He looks pissed!

With white eyes and rage in his face, he forms a fire arrow and doesn’t hesitate to aim it at your head. Your eyes widen in shock as he releases it immediately. Crouching down just in time, shielding your head with your arms, the arrow flies over your hands, burning your knuckles in the process. You shout in pain, pulling your hands back down in reaction, while the arrow hits the attacker behind you, pinning him down to the ground. The man screams while being burned alive and you turn to him. Relief spreads in your gut, as you see that you’re safe.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Sukuna growls at you in anger, making you look back to him, while his huge figure keeps stomping into your direction. The string pulls hard at your heart, making you unable to answer.

“My King.” your voice so thin from all the exhaustion.

“Your King asked you a fucking question, brat.” he grabs you by your collar and yanks you harshly against the door of a nearby hut. Your weight and the hard impact causes it to fall open and you stumble in, even having trouble to stay on your feet. Sukuna follows you, slams the wooden door shut behind him, almost breaking it. The sounds of war keep playing in the background, muted screams reach your ears. Bombs keep falling.

Boom!

You stumble backwards, almost tripping over some stools and stumbling around a table, looking into the face of the man you sought and found, but you’re not recognising him. These white, soulless eyes. Words aren’t able to crawl out of your throat, only your racing heartbeat.

A crack. Smoke.

You look up and notice that the roof of this hut is burning from the outside, dark smoke crawling into the room. Fear spreads in your gut.

“Answer me!” he hisses, making you looking back at him. Sukuna appears even taller, even more intimidating, his muscles swollen from all the fighting, while his face and naked torso is splattered with blood of those people. He keeps walking to you, cornering you, slamming this stool out of his way and into the corner, bursting it.

“I- … I…” you’re scared of him.

Those eyes.

His facial features twitch in anger and he clenches his jaw, before he grabs you by your throat with his left upper hand, raises you to his eye level and pushes you against the wall.

Heartache. So strong.

You hold on to his arm, your feet dangling in the air, while you gasp. Tears pool in your eyes.

“What are you doing here?” he repeats in an aggressive whisper through his teeth.

“I-“ you gasp, looking at his face. “I- …” you ponder.

“I needed to see you…” you whisper with a trembling voice. “I’ve missed you. So much.” you dig your nails into his arm. “I couldn’t bear it.”

His rage filled soulless eyes look at you, his brow twitches, while he breathes heavily. A moment passes and you just look at him, with all your honesty and all the longing that has built up in you, your thumb grazing along the skin of his wrist. He keeps staring at you, while his grip on your neck tightens. Sukunas lip twitches another time, before he dashes forward, pressing his lips against yours. The air get’s stuck in your throat, as you realise what he’s doing. You hear his breath against your face, before the fingers of his right hand move into your hair. His bottom pair of hands let go of their weapons and find their way to your thighs, supporting you. Blades cling to the floor, while you feel the weight against your throat feel easier, but not the weight in your heart. You feel his lips against yours and you don’t know how to react. Tensing up, you grab his hair, holding on to it tightly.

With a smack of his lips, he breaks the kiss and you inhale deeply, breathe like you’ve been about to drown. Heart beating so, so fast. You keep your gaze down, not daring to look into his eyes yet. Noses touching softly, while you breathe into each others mouths, so hot. Your breath is trembling, his face still so close to yours, that your lips brush against each other, causing the fear to leave your body.

It’s him.

His grip on your neck loosens and his hand moves up to the side of your face, before you feel him moving. With a grunt, Sukuna holds you tight and takes a few loud steps passing the corner right next to you and slams you against the adjacent wall.

Bam!

The air is knocked out of you once again, before his lips crash back onto yours, pressing your face against his with his hands and pushing his body against yours. You open your mouth and you feel his lips slide hungry against yours, feel his tongue move passionately against yours.

Feel his soul desperately embrace yours.

An embrace so deep, like two lovers who were separated for a lifetime.

You kiss back and your face melts into his. Heart is aching so bad, you want him to rip it out of your chest. You feel whole, feel in love, feel so aroused for him. He breathes into the kiss, as he deepens it, holding you so tight, with his hands on both sides of your face, as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer.

Pull him so close it almost hurts. So desperate. So needy. So soft and violently.

Flames crawl through the ceiling, but there’s only the two of you. Total darkness before your closed eyes, but in this darkness you feel nothing but him, taste nothing but him. The taste of blood and spit and dirt. The taste of his soul and its relief to see you again.

Wood cracks under the fire, but the kiss goes on, deepens even more, makes your whole body trembling and you feel his breath tremble, too. Sukunas grip on your thighs tightens, making you sigh into the kiss, before you wrap your legs around his torso, pulling him even closer. Licks, bites and kisses on each others lips, while your heart bursts in your throat, let the tears roll down, while feeling him so close.

The kiss slows down, lips leaving each other to catch a breath. Foreheads touching while breathing heavily, your own hands find their way to his face, holding him like he holds you. Your eyes look up, seek his gaze and you see him. Those red eyes that you‘ve missed so dearly. Wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. A gaze so soft.

You lean back to get a better view of his face.

There’s something in his eyes, his brow knit together in desperation. Longing. Relief.

And the way he looks at you? It pulls at your heart. Heavily.

It‘s him.

A sad feeling spreads in your chest, while you wonder if this heartache is not yours but his. You wished for the heartache to end when you see him, but instead it’s as worse as it can be since he saw you.

It‘s him.

Like you’re the one knocking on his mind, he‘s the one pulling at your heart.

You‘re sure of it.

The room heats up more and more from the fire. It’s now burning through the ceiling.

He looks tired, a dark shade paints the underside of his eyes. And you want to cry seeing him like this. Want to never let him go again. Just take him home. Into the shrine.

Just you and him.

Sukuna musters your face, while you muster his. Eyes dancing from point to point across your face.

Memorising. Drowning.

You sniff, as a tear rolls down your dirt stained face. Pity in his eyes, as he watches the tear silently crawling down your cheek. The drop hits the tip of his right thumb, before he gently smudges it away, smudges away the dirt away with it, revealing the bruise on your left cheek, making your eyes twitch in pain. His eyes grow sinister, as he sees it.

“Who did this?” he whispers. Your heart flutters, hearing him like this.

“In a village further north… You forgot someone.” you answer. “…I killed him.”

A worried look paints his face for a second, before his hands leave your face. He clenches his jaw and without a warning he drops you to your feet, looking down to you.

“You have to leave.” he growls, while turning around, picking up his swords and walking to the door.

Crack. The flames come nearer.

You follow him, anger bubbling up your throat.

“You think I came all this way just to leave again? I can’t.” you spit at him. He listens to your words, while watching you over his shoulder.

“…I just can’t.” you add quietly.

A strip of wood crashes down from the ceiling behind you. The fire is now inside.

“Don’t tell me to leave. Please.” your eyes beg him.

He turns to you and lowers his face to yours.

“I didn’t ask you to be here! Leave!” the fire behind you flickers in his angry red orbs, his gaze intense. “Now!”

And you understand. He’s right. You’re not strong enough to fight at his side. Not that he would need your help anyway. You would probably just a weight on his shoulders.

Your face is trembling, fighting with tears.

Crack. A cupboard that caught fire starts to crumble.

Can’t let you go. Not like that.

You grab his face tightly.

“Meet me when this is over. No matter what little time you have.” you demand in anger. “I need to tell you something.”

Crash.

His eyes squint softly, before he nods, almost not noticeable. You look at him with hurt, before you let him go, pass him quickly and dash out of the door.

The noises grow loud again, as soon as you step out the door. The battle is not over. You draw your bow and nock your arrow, ready to shoot anyone who’s coming near you. Hearing Sukuna coming out of the door behind, you suddenly hear screaming coming out of the same direction. Quickly you turn back around and in the split of a second, you see a woman jumping off the roof head first, ready to bury a knife into Sukunas neck.

You shoot immediately.

The arrow misses Sukunas face by two inches, hitting directly into the head of his attacker. His eyes widen in surprise, as you stomp back to him. Sukuna watches you walking past him to the dead woman, to pull the arrow out of her head, without disgust, without remorse.

“I will see you.” you shoot him a look, passing him. His lip twitches.

“Run!” he orders. You stop, looking at him in confusion. Sukunas eyes roll back, while a sadistic smirk curls back into his lips and he cracks his neck.

“Run, Princess.” he hisses at you once again with this soulless eyes of his, while he walks back into the battlefield. You listen.

Running and running, you aim for the darkness that the light of the fire can’t reach. The battle is still going, but less erratic. Many people already died. This fight is emaciated.

Your feet run over corpses and dirt and splash into pools of blood, while you hear your king slashing and ripping behind your back. Giggling and laughing, shouting and growling. Flying arrows became rare, fire bombs already used up. The people who’re still fighting, fight to the end.

And it’s coming.

You run and run and run, until you slow down, being at the point of where you came from. Turning around, you see Sukuna making room for himself with one motion of his blade, slashing the people around him. He’s now standing the middle of the battle, him being so much taller than the rest of the men. He raises his upper pair of hands, forming a hand sign with them, pressing his fingers together like a triangle. He keeps staring at you with his soulless eyes. You see his mouth move, as if he’s saying something.

The earth suddenly starts to rumble and in the haze of the fire a gigantic shrine appears, like a dream brought to life. Your eyes widen, as it looks similar to the shrine you live in. Skulls and spikes decorating the outside.

Boom!

The earth rumbles again, making you stumble, before a shockwave runs through the crowd of fighting people. Like insanely fast movements with a blade, person after person gets slashed into unrecognisable pieces. So fast, they fall down like a wave moving towards you. So forceful, even the fire get’s wiped out. Huts get demolished. Trees are shredded.

This wave of darkness crashes over this battle. Men are fleeing into your direction. They’re screaming at you with bleeding faces, swing their weapons at you. You’re ready to shoot your arrow, as someone runs directly at you, before he gets slashed into a million pieces, right before your eyes. The wave stops right before your feet, the remaining wind of the shockwave flying through your hair.

Empty Darkness.

Sudden Silence.

Except your agitated breathing, after witnessing what happened here. You lower your bow and arrow, trying to spot Sukuna in the dark. The shrine fades into the wind, before a black silhouette steps away from the middle of the battlefield.

Asshole.

He’s not coming.

Anger boils up in you and you stomp away into the forest.

You stand next to your little campfire, shooting your arrow into the same spot of the tree in front of you over and over again.

“Asshole.” you repeat to yourself, after you picked up the arrow from the tree and getting in position once again.

Shoot!

Again.

Shoot!

Again.

It helps you clear your mind.

He kissed me.

Except it doesn’t.

He kissed me.

So violently. So passionately.

Like he missed me. So much.

With trembling lips, you nock your arrow once again, before something pinches at your heart, before you hear a soft rustle in the bushes behind you.

Before you can react and turn around, you feel a warmth at your back. Your breath hitches, as a giant hand crawls to your stomach, the sharp nails so familiar. Relief spreads in your gut. Another hand on your right shoulder. Another under your risen elbow of your left arm, holding the arrow. A fourth hand on your waist.

Quietly a foot moves between the two of yours, pushing your left more apart from your right.

“Flex your core.” his quiet, low voice so smooth in your ears, it makes your knees feel like soft dough, while his fingertips press against your stomach.

“A little higher.” a whisper, while he tips the fingers of his other hand against your left elbow. His grip on your waist tightens, as he moves his other hand along your stretched out arm.

Your heart is racing at his gentleness.

“Shoot.”

But you’re still angry.

You turn around and aim at his face.

“I’m angry at you!” you growl.

He pouts at you, before he smacks his lips.

“Tch Tch Tch…That’s no way to speak to your King.” he coos, while putting the tip of his finger against the tip of the arrow. A smirk already creeping up on his mouth. And you hate how you love to see it. Love to see his usual asshole mannerism.

You sigh and retrieve the arrow. He huffs, while you slump down, sitting down in front of the warm flames. Sukuna pulls something wrapped in fabric from his waist, while he sits down cross legged in front of you. You watch him unpack a severed arm, covered in blood and dirt.

“You have time until I have eaten this.” he motions his dinner at you. “Then I need to get back to the camp of those insects.” he adds, before blowing, swiping and tapping off the dirt on the arm. You sneer in disgust, watch him pinch away a tiny stone that’s been sticking in the skin. But you can’t help to smile to yourself.

He’s cute.

You take an apple out from the fabric of your waist and bite into it. Simultaneously Sukuna bites a finger off the hand and both of your foods make a cracking sound at the same time.

A feeling of joy spreads in your gut, while both of you munch on your food. You smile to yourself. It’s been a long day and you love how calm it feels, while listening to your munching and crackling of the fire.

“Kind of feels familiar, huh?” you whisper in a smile at him “This setting.” He hums in agreement, while he’s busy gnawing the skin off the finger. You can’t help to think, that he’s in a good mood. Watching him eat that finger like the big hunk he is, you have to contain yourself.

Fucking cute.

You swallow your apple.

“I didn’t think you would actually come.” you say softly, seeking his gaze. “I’m glad you did.”

“Two seconds ago you were angry.”

“I am angry. Six weeks ago? A King is not supposed to leave his princess like that... Without saying goodbye.”

“Mhhm his princess…” he smirks, cocking his eyebrow in amusement, while admiring the nibbled bone of the finger. “You came all this way just to be angry at me for that?”

“…No.” you chew on your lip, remembering that you told him that you needed to tell him something. Remembering, that you said that without thinking, just to prevent him from leaving. Well now that he’s here, sitting calm at this fire with you…you might as well…

Curse or love?

You lower your gaze and fiddle with the bitten apple in front of you.

…If there wasn’t this incredible nervousness…

”I-uhm… I …“ you ponder, noticing your burned knuckles again. “The reason I came here is…” your throat becomes dry as sand. “…because… I cursed you.” you exhale. “I had no other choice.”

He stops chewing and you look up. Sukuna frowns at you.

“I know.”

You frown back.

“You know?” you huff. “What do you mean “I know”?” you continue, imitating his deep voice for the last part, making him squint his eyes in annoyance, before he huffs.

“Princess…” he says, letting a smirk crawl on his face and raising his eyebrow in pity. “This whole trip has been only half the fun since you keep knocking at my mind. The headache you give me…“ he sighs, before ripping off a bit of skin with his teeth. “That’s why I know.” His words make you feel angry, but guilty.

“Well. I’m sorry.” you sneer, tapping your fingers on the floor, realising he could feel your longing the entire time. He hums, while he keeps gnawing at the hand, doesn’t even seem to be mad at you for the headache you give him. A moment passes, before you keep talking.

“You knew… and yet you claim that you didn’t ask me to be here. Acted all pissed and angry when you saw me, although you didn’t even order Uraume to lock the door.” you complain. “You knew I would come after you sooner or later. And since you cursed me, too, maybe you even hoped I would.” you spit at him, his reaction only being an amused smile at your bitching. “So how about you tell me how happy you were to finally see me?… Before you send me away again.” your emotions overflow and you almost regret what you just said.

He stops chewing once again, his flickering red orbs staring into yours. Sukunas smirk fades and you feel like you pissed him off.

“I thought I did.” he finally says, in a calm but serious tone, cocking his eyebrow at you.

You open your mouth to complain again, but his persistent gaze stops you.

Huh?

You frown in confusion. A moment passes until it clicks.

The kiss??

You’re stunned, mouth falls slightly open. Sukuna starts chewing again, while he keeps staring at you. Your mouth trembles for words to say before your head turns red.

“You didn’t use words.” you mumble, as you turn your head and body to the side, escaping his gaze, not expecting him to admit it like that.

“I didn’t use words. I needed my mouth for something else.”

Uff.

Your heart keeps beating blood into your face, while you listen to him. Sometimes you hate how smooth he can be.

“I guess you did.” you whisper, feeling embarrassed, while you keep fiddling with the apple nervously.

“And I liked it.” he adds in a low voice. His words crawl through your body like oil, heart beating so fast. You start to chew on your lip.

Can’t look at him now.

You can feel his eyes continue to pierce through your being.

If I look he will know.

“But the curse is not the only thing you wanted to tell me about, is it?” his words pierce through you like a spear.

No. He already knows.

“What else would I want to tell you?” you try to play cool, but still avoid his gaze.

Knows, that I love him.

“There’s something stuck in your throat ever since that star flew across our heads. Ever since you put that curse on me. I was hoping to finally learn what it is.” the smirk in his voice as present as ever.

He knows.

“No.” you lie.

He raises his eyebrow at you.

You sigh.

Fuck.

“I… like to be around you.” is the best you can come up with without admitting it directly.

“I know.” he smirks, letting you know that he knows that it’s just another bad excuse. You look everywhere, but him.

He just wants to hear it.

You feel his eyes pressuring you to keep talking.

Asshole.

“Why do I need to say it? You would only call me pathetic.” you shrug, as you lean behind you, pretending to adjust the wood in the fire. “You don’t use words, either.”

Hearing him putting the nibbled arm aside, he hums, before you feel his finger quietly hooking into the waistband of your hakama, before he slowly pulls you to him. Not fighting his actions, you let yourself being dragged backwards into the warmth of his body. It coats your back again, as he makes room with his legs and pulls you into the space between them. You want to melt, feeling him like this, being near him like this. After weeks and weeks of missing him like a part of you that’s been lost. Your racing heart lets your breath come out trembling.

His upper left hand moves over your chest, wrapping itself around your right jaw, softly guiding it up to reveal your neck. You feel his breath close to your skin, as you watch the fireplace crackling in front of you.

“I like to be around you, too.” he breathes, making your breath hitch. “That’s why I was angry at you for leaving my chambers.” he whispers, before his lips find the thin scar that formed on your neck. You breathe heavily, his words being too much for your heart to handle. “I hoped you would come. That’s why I didn’t order to lock the door.” he mouths against the sensitive skin of your scar. His lips wander up to your right cheek. “I was relieved to hear you say you came to see me.” he mouths against it. Unconsciously you grab the hand that’s been resting on his thigh. “That’s why I kissed you.” he purrs. You squeeze his hand, the burned skin on your knuckles hurting while doing so.

A soft kiss in front of your ear. “There. I used words.” a hot breath against your skin, while the hand on your jaw slowly moves down.

You tremble in his hold, not having expected him to be so honest and admitting to your accusations. Heart flutters, as you notice how his breath is quick too, while he keeps purring in your ear.

A weight presses against your chest, his left hand grabs your right shoulder and you realise, that his left arm is now wrapped around you.

Embracing you, pressing you against him.

His heart beats against your shoulders. You feel it and lean into his face, your left hand reaches for his arm that’s wrapped around you.

“Is this goodbye?” you whisper.

He nods against your face, before he loosens his grip. Your heart aches and you wonder if its you or him who feels this way. Probably both. You already feel the tears tingle in your eyelids, while you crawl out of his hold and stand up.

He gets up as well and looks at you for a moment, pondering, looking as if he’s about to say something.

Heartache.

He stops himself, instead mumbles a “pathetic.” So quietly, you almost didn’t catch what he said. So quietly, you wonder if he actually meant himself. Wonder if he shares the same feelings for you.

Mortal feelings. The pathetic kind.

His hand finds your chin, guiding your face up a little. He looks at your lips, his eyes saying goodbye to them, before he slowly leans down to your eye level. His eyes find yours, become soft as he sees the wet reflection in your eyes. His thumb strokes gently at your lip, before he leans in. Sukunas nose gently touches the side of yours, his lips about to brush against your parted ones.

“Don’t.” you stop him. He hesitates before he leans back into your sight, looking at you questioningly.

“Do it when you come back.” you continue. “Just come back.” you breathe, fighting with your tears. His gaze grows emotionless, before he leans to your ear.

“As you wish.” he whispers, before placing a chaste kiss on your cheek.

Heartache.

Leaning back, he looks into your eyes a last time, before he walks past you. You turn around, with trembling lips, watching him leave.

Turn around.

The light on him grows dim.

Turn around.

His figure now just a silhouette.

Turn around.

He stops. His head turns slightly and you see his red orbs pierce through the darkness.

They look at you, before he vanishes in the lightless forest.

Leaving you there.

With an aching heart.

#permission #permission chapters #true form sukuna #sukuna #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #true form sukuna smut #fanfiction #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #true form sukuna x you #true form sukuna x reader

126 notes · View notes

webbo0 · 22 days

Text

Prodigal Doll

Goose Boys Mafia AU

AO3 Link

Length: 753 words (short and not sweet)

Summary: Nobody ever expected Ken to join the family business, but when he's caught in the middle of a war he knows nothing about, the other boys have to pick up the pieces.

Content/Warning: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Hurt/barely comfort

Authors Note: I don't even remember how this started lol

I think I saw those Tag Heuer photoshoot pics that look like Ken but as Six?

Anyways I have a LOT of lore ideas and a whole arc for Ken in this, but god only knows if I can actually write it ugh

Also I'm not sorry lmao

“He’s… changed”

“ Don’t say that”

“Look at him!”

“Shut the fuck up, Richard”

Gathered, the men stare at Ken.

Whenever he used to be scared, he was loud (it was a liability sometimes, all the shrieking and sobbing). But now, he’s silent. Tear stains cut clean lines through the filth and gore on his cheeks, but none fall from his eyes. Not anymore.

He’s… vacant. Not like Driver, his stare always intense, or like Julian, always lost in thought. No. He’s just. Empty.

Six and Lars are sanitizing and bandaging his wounds. Slashes on his chest, burns on his limbs, bruises scattered on every inch of available skin like a fucking Jackson Pollock, and blood from god knows who and god knows where drenching his scarily pale skin and platinum blonde hair. He doesn’t flinch, doesn't move at all, even when Six gently murmurs that he needs to reset his shoulder. The bone grinding into place would have even the toughest of men gritting their teeth in pain, but Ken just sits there. Disconnected from the world. Lars is delicately cleaning the blood off of him, swallowing tears of his own while dabbing a warm cloth over his exposed skin.

Ken wears nothing but a ragged pair of boxers stained with fluids nobody wants to think too hard about (just like they found him). He hasn’t said a word since they found him, but Lars finally gets a reaction out of him. He’s shakingly whispering to Ken that they need to remove his old shorts to wash him off and get him into something clean, but when his hand goes towards the waistband an explosion of movement happens. Ken bolts away from the men, scrambling to the closest wall and pressing his back to it. His voice is raw and venomous as he roars at the surrounding men.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

Everyone in the room freezes because Ken never curses. All eyes are on him, the torn and bloodied nails on his hands scratching at the brick wall, the bloody trail of footprints he makes, his heaving chest, and his frantic, darting, unseeing eyes. Blood drips down his inner thigh.

“I think I’m gonna be sick”

“He needs a professional, guys, we can only do so much”

“Oh yeah, get the cops involved that’s smart”

“I thought I told you to shut the fuck-”

“Everybody out.”

The room silences once again, save for some muffled sobs and Ken's rapid breath. All eyes now turn to the man who spoke, the man in charge . His white jacket is splattered with blood, and a fire rages behind his cold, blue gaze.

“... are you sure we should leave him like this?”

“Six stays, the rest of you leave. He’s in no state for visitors. Every man is allowed some dignity.”

The room empties without protest, save for Ken, Six, Driver, and Julian. Julian didn’t need to ask to stay (not that he would have). Wherever Driver goes, he goes.

“Why am I staying?”

“You have the most combat-medic training. And. You can… restrain him if you need to.”

The rage in Driver’s eyes slips, showing for a brief moment deep, soul-wrenching anguish before he clenches his gloved fists and returns to his default neutral, intense stare.

“I expect a complete injury report once he’s patched up. Ask Julian if you need any extra supplies. I have to go deal with the rest of this shit storm.”

He turns to leave, but pauses, glancing back over his shoulder.

“And Six?”

Six stands at attention, ready to receive orders.

“...be gentle.”

Six nods once in affirmation and Driver lets his head hang down, taking a deep breath before straightening his spine and closing the door quietly behind him. The room was now solely occupied by the three men left there.

Julian, standing and waiting by the door. Both ready to retrieve any necessary items and guarding against any poor fool that might try and interrupt them.

Six, shoulders sagged and ruffling through a medkit.

And Ken, who had slid to the floor, legs finally giving out, but the wild look in his eye still shining.

And it wasn’t until Six slowly approaches (the same way he did when he freed a wild deer from a beartrap as a kid), sinking to his knees, gently carding his hands through his blood-matted platinum hair and softly reassuring him that you’re safe now, you’re safe, we got you back that Ken starts trembling, a tear finally slipping from his eye.

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g0tmilkx3 · 10 months

Text

FOOLISH

Things were normal after their breakup. Well normal for them.

Carmy doesn't have the balls to tell his family he and Syd broke up.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, Arguing, Angst, Past Relationship, Toxic Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Possessive Behavior, Unprotected Sex, Jealousy If You Squint, Alcoholism, Marijuana Mention,

Divider: firefly-graphics.tumblr.com GIF: trainstationgoodbye.tumblr.com

A/N:

I tried to remain as true to the characters as I could. That's why there's a toxic relationship tag. You and I both know what would happen if those two got together. The title is based on Foolish by Ashanti btw. Sorry in advance for any weird formatting. Tumblr is being weird but it's Posted on AO3 with the correct formatting.

The sun rose as it did any other day. When the birds sang and car horns cried to break up the melody, Sydney Adamu hustled to The Bear. Through the labyrinth she knew as Chicago she found a place that brought her relaxation and excitement. A place that raised her blood pressure while simultaneously bringing it down to a happy medium. She and her business partner slash idol (slash ex), worked tirelessly to curate the perfect dining experience. Well almost perfect. But, from Sydney's experience, they were near perfection.

A colorful knitted cap sat upon her head, her braids draped down below. With each stride, the blond tips would bounce against her back and shoulders creating a rhythm that stayed in tune with the music blaring from her AirPods.

°⋆ I’ve seen you with the lights off I’ve seen you and you think you love me I’ve seen you with your hat off I’m dreaming of a time you knew me ｡⋆

Wind swooshed around her, dirt twisted before her sending dust to scratch her eyes. Water tip-toed the rim of her lids.

°⋆ So baby, is it all you’ve got? Tell me if you got some more-ore I’m thinking of some time off, off. I’m dreaming of a time when you knew me ｡⋆

No matter how many times Chicago hurt her, she just couldn't leave. Brandished over her heart, a chain that anchored her to the city. A gold chain that she found hidden in a velvet box that was gifted to her by her ex-lover on her last birthday. Wearing it still felt stupid now, but she could never bring herself to remove it. Fleeting memories from her youth reminded her of who she once was. So strong-willed and outspoken.

°⋆ Some things never seem to fucking work ｡⋆

While she still retained much of her buoyant personality, it was becoming harder and harder to remain strong. Sanguine her lenses once were, now not so much.

“Eighty-six the foie gras chefs!” Carmy echoed, not taking his eyes off the sizzling slice of filet mignon in his skillet. He scooped up melted butter and herbs before pouring them over the scorching meat. A concentrated red stream of blood trailed down a crevice embedded in the meat.

“Yes, Chef!" The brigade echoed back, in a cultish chant.

"Eh, it was experimental anyways.” Syd shrugged continuing her prep of the day’s veggies.

Carmy chuckled sparing a glance at her as he plated what he'd just finished preparing. "And kind of illegal."

“Are we still eighty-six-ing the-“

“Rum cake? Yes, Marcus is out today and we just don't have the coverage” He cut a small piece off of the beef and neared Syd. His voice became small as he reached her bubble. "There's a surplus of prepped dessert he made last night."

“Marcus? Out?” She took the piece of steak Carmy held out for her into her mouth without missing a beat. An involuntary moan bubbled out of her throat. “You’re unreal,” She could swear a pink tint spread across his cheeks, but he turned away to grab the plated dish before she could examine it any further. “I was just talking to him last night, what’s up?”

“His mom.” Carmy stepped aside as each member of the kitchen staff stopped by to steal a piece of his latest dish. Their eyes remained connected despite the intrusion of the staff stepping in and out of their line of sight. “I didn’t ask too much he sounded bummed.”

“Fuck, I should talk to him.” She frowned down at her station finding that most of what she needed prepped was prepped. “T, I did the veggies can you please get on the broth?” She called while wiping down where she'd just been working.

“On it Jeff!” Tina got to work as Syd made her way to the back alley removing her blues on the way.

“Syd? I'll be right back Mom.” There was static breaking his voice up before he came through clearly. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey chef is everything alright? Carm was vague as usual…” Her eyes found the clear blue skies, there wasn't a cloud in sight. The expansive scape reminded her of his eyes. How he could convey so much to her in silence. So much goddamn information was stored in his eyes. Hidden away behind a sorrowful gaze that would forever follow Syd. His intense stare would probably follow her until the end of time. Those weren't eyes you so easily forgot.

It was a beautiful day, yes, but she had a hard time appreciating it. There was a jet gliding across the sky. She watched it ease across the pretty blue backdrop, leaving white exhaust behind it.

“Yeah my mom, she has a fever and a fever for you and me isn’t a big deal. But a fever for her…” He grumbled something she couldn't quite make out. Despite their distance, she could still feel the amount of stress he was under. He was her family. Everyone at The Bear was her family and each of them had unique relationships. “So I just decided to hold down the fort and make sure she’s doing all right.”

“Right, right” Syd turned just in time to see Carmy walking out the back door, cigarette in his mouth. Their eyes met briefly making her falter in her words.

“Still there, Syd?” Marcus asked as a timer buzzed in the distance.

“I am,” She turned away, ignoring the burn in her cheeks. “How about I come by after work and bring you what the fam had today?”

“You the one!” He graciously exclaimed. “I gotta go, but alright just call when you're on the way.”

“Peace.” She shoved her phone into her back pocket and whipped her head to find Carmy already looking at her. Pounding just beneath her ribcage, her heart inflated with anticipation. The hair trailing the nape of her neck stood on end as goosebumps rushed up her arms. Their space remained shrouded in silence. How much time had passed? Seconds to minutes, minutes to who knows. They were rarely one on one these days. It was easier to navigate the sludge they'd gotten themselves into when other people were around to break the tension up. She wanted to leave but her legs remained still. There was something hiding. Something waiting to come out. She just felt it. So she stayed, listening to the industrial sounds of the city. The jet was now long gone, but its roar still hummed quietly beneath it all.

Carm's cigarette smoke floated past her. She quirked an eyebrow at her business partner who huffed while shaking his head. He hands her a cigarette to her which she hesitantly took. Despite not being a smoker. They needed something to break the ice these days and it sucked. In the kitchen, it was like nothing ever happened. Like they never fell in love, like they never broke up, but outside of the kitchen? Forget about it.

“Just got off the phone with my mom.” He ran a hand through his hair making it impossibly messier. "You don't smoke." He deadpanned plucking the cigarette from behind her ear and putting it behind his.

“You seemed bummed, didn't want to make it awkward.” She hesitantly chuckled before quickly looking at her feet. “Must've been heavy, the conversation with your mom. I’ve never known my Carmy to stop prep an hour to open for a smoke break."

“Your Carmy.” He muttered under his breath, hiding it behind a chuckle. "Yeah, well she has that effect on me." He stomped his cigarette out, feeling traces of guilt. Syd was never too shy to tell him exactly how she felt about cigarette smoke. She didn't mind weed though.

"Meat delivery was wrong... again." She mentioned trying to find anything to continue their conversation.

"We gotta find another fucking vendor." He cracked his knuckles, now that his cigarette was gone he needed something else to satisfy his vice.

"We do. But the guys we work with now are reliable." The two shared a look. "Semi-reliable and cheap. So we're stuck with 'em."

Another stretch of uncomfortable silence followed. More avoidant glances. More shuffling.

If only he just said what he wanted, she thought to herself. If only he'd release her by simply saying what he needed to say. She wouldn't (no) she couldn't leave without finding out why those baby blues of his were so downcast so pleading and so, so broken. But Carmy was even more stubborn after their severance, they barely knew each other these days. But this felt huge. It felt big, she could feel it vibrating that invisible cord between them. Disturbing the constant hum they sustained, even after everything.

"What'd your mom say?" She finally let her curiosity win.

There it was. His eyes flashed with something akin to fear and his lips twitched. He fidgeted even more. He was always in motion. Moving, moving, moving. “She asked to meet you y’know?” He rubbed a hand down his mouth, slowly nodding his head. He stared out in front of him, at nothing in particular. But she could see his anxiety beginning to bleed into his irises. She could feel it too and god she'd do anything to make it stop.

“You didn’t tell her?” Her thoughts were interrupted by that revelation. For the first time in a long time, she stepped into his space and caught his gaze. “Carmy it’s been weeks.” She stopped short. "No, months! Like two whole months!"

"Almost two months." He corrected earning him one of Syd's signature eye rolls. “I know, I know.” He sighed trying to drop her big brown eyes but it was proving impossible. Each time he'd find the ground or a spot just past her shoulder their shared magnetism would beg his attention. Forcing him to bare his soul. “Look, only the crew knows. Richie just got back from vacation and I guess I just never see Sugar enough to mention it."

Carmy was still in denial that he and Syd had reached an end before Richie left. He spent the early days in a dreamlike state, hoping that he'd blink and everything would be back to normal. That he'd wake up and everything wasn't on fire and she'd look at him with the love she used to and not the resentment that now replaced it. Once he came to terms with it, Richie was gone and Sugar was far too busy to stop by, with the fresh addition to the family and all. The staff noticed but they didn't say anything. He wasn't going to say anything either. Tina realized what occurred when she saw their mirrored shame. Eyes avoidant and chemistry nonexistent. The family felt their disconnect as it trickled down to each and every one of them. Ebra was the first to slice the tension one day after closing.

"Tensions heavy." He called from a far corner of the kitchen, after a painful bout of awkward silence. "Trouble in paradise?"

Carmy's eyes met hers as she hesitantly dragged her gaze to him. If they told them it'd make it official. It'd make it real. Fuck him if he didn't want this shit to be the worst nightmare of his life. His throat was dry when she looked around the room. His heart pounded when she clasped her hands together and uttered the revealing truth.

"Me and Carm have decided to keep our relationship strictly professional for the betterment of the business." She sagged her shoulders. "Happy? Now come on let's get it chefs, we all wanna get home right?" She didn't look back at Carmy as she grabbed her cleaning utensils and escaped to the walk-in.

"Chef!" They called behind her. Tina's frown followed Carmy as he entered the walk-in behind Syd.

"Really?" He complained angrily. "Wh-wh-what are you doing? Why are you doing this to me?" His eyes searched hers. "That's how you choose to do it, Syd?"

"How the fuck else were we going to tell them? Sit them down one by one in our office. 'Oh yeah, your bosses aren't fucking each other anymore. Prepare your stations for a walk thru', that's real professional!"

He raised his voice, frustration boiling over. His face was hot with a thin sheen of sweat over it. The cool air of the walk-in did nothing to help. It only made it harder to breathe. Her angry eyes only made his breath shorter. "Anything but that!"

She sighed taking note of his erratic breathing. Once upon a time, she was the one that'd calm him down, now she was the source of his worries. How quickly the fucking tides change.

"Look, Carm I'm sorry." She avoided rubbing her closed fist over her chest. It felt wrong now. "I didn't mean for it to be messy, but we've been tiptoeing around each other for weeks they were bound to find out."

She brushed past him exiting their bubble. The eyes of the staff greeted her plunging her back into reality.

"Do you guys want a picture? A straight-to-DVD recording? Or what." She deadpanned before shouting. "Let's go!" She stormed to her station finishing her tasks.

This all happened after Richie left, a few weeks back. It wasn't like Carmy to just go and call up Richie during his time off. Call him for what? To give him the good news? Carmy didn't want to bother him with something so trivial and high school. "I haven't had the time to tell my family about us. Sugar took it upon herself to tell Mom about our first anniversary coming up and now… now she wants to meet you.”

Her eyes narrowed in skepticism.

Okay, so he wasn't being entirely truthful and he's pretty sure she knew it. He intentionally hadn't told anybody. He didn't want to. It'd make it feel too final. He and Syd breaking up just didn't sit right with him and he wasn't sure if it ever would. Sydney, however, didn't have a problem telling whoever. She was taking their breakup like a champ.

She frowned contemplating exactly how they got to this point. It began how any work romance started. Fleeting glances and red cheeks. Accidental touches that soon lingered. One too many hangouts that lasted way too long. One too many drinks led to a passionate and intense hookup. Then the inevitable downfall. Too much time spent with one another. Going to work and seeing each other, going home and seeing each other, seeing the best but the worst in each other. Uneven work distribution eventually began interfering with their personal relationship. They thought they could work through it, that was until it started affecting the workplace and their dynamic. One too many complaints from the staff of a hostile work environment and that was it. One of them just had to stop it. It was Syd who called it quits first, she knew Carmy would drag his feet and draw it out for a lot longer than it needed to be. Carmy didn’t have the energy to beg her to stay but his eyes said it all. She thought they fell back into step. Back to a neutral place, nothing deeper than coworkers. But every now and then they’d catch each other’s eyes or he’d get just a little too close to her and it was all so real again. But they knew better than to go back there.

“We were together for less than a year-“

“I’ve never been with anybody for a year…” He interjected in a matter-of-fact tone. “Sorry, my family they just, they’re happy that I found someone to put up with me. It's sort of a big deal for them." It would've been a big deal for him too if only they'd actually made it a year. "God they’re gonna have a good laugh when I show up to dinner alone.”

Syd frowned looking back up at the sky. “My point is, I don’t think it should be this hard for us. You know disconnecting from each other….”

“We’re business partners.” He lamented. “We disconnect The Bear fails.”

“This place is never going to fail.” She shakes her head looking back down at him.

“I don't know Syd. Everything I touch...” He looks at her with a familiar echo of fear in his eyes. “Everything I touch fails.”

She watched him crack his knuckles, hands shaky, before walking back inside leaving her with her thoughts.

As promised after closing Syd made her way to her best friends' house with enough food for three.

"From what I've seen, that family is unwell." Marcus lightly jests. "I mean if Mikey is any indicator..." He widens his eyes trying to convey just how hectic the Berzattos were.

"Trust me Marcus I know." She sips her third glass of wine of the night. "I just wish I didn't care so much!"

"Carmy was your best friend once upon a time," He reminded, ignoring her eye roll. "Roll your eyes all you want sis. You two dated for a year, it's normal to still care about him a little bit."

Too bad she cared about him a lotta bit "Yes, but enough to be his girlfriend for one more night just so his family doesn't rip into him?"

"I mean," He shrugs. "It seems."

"It'd be a bad idea right?" More semi-expensive wine slid down her throat. "It'd be bonkers to go along with this, especially after the whole ordeal."

She was referring to her 4 weeks of crying on Marcus' couch, in sweats post-break-up. She was always sure to clean up nice and put on a smile when she went to work, but Marcus was there through the worst of it. He'd never seen her look so small, so vulnerable as she did the first few weeks after they called it quits. She'd lay her head in his lap and cry and cry until she fell asleep. When she wasn't crying she was talking about what she could've done, what he could've done. Which led to anger and then to the inevitable crying. She'd spend the mornings before work throwing up, it only just stopped a couple of weeks ago.

"Look, I don't want you going through that again. But you seem to really want to help out Carm and what's one night?" He poured her more red wine. "You're over him right?"

She gulps down her wine instead of answering. Maybe it was the wine but she could feel water gathering in her eyes. The air conditioning blew past her cooling the tears and making them all the more real. She shook her head, annoyed with herself for crying over him, STILL.

"Fuck! I'm sorry." Marcus rushed to her side and pulled her into a hug.

"No, no it's" She laughs through her tears as she wipes the fresh ones away. "It's the wine I promise."

"I'm still sorry for you know asking that." He replied. "Especially this early on."

"It's okay, friend.” She shakes her head and sniffles as she pulls away. "It's been some months, I should be able to talk about our," relationship. "situation without crying like a little bitch."

"I don't think there's a time limit on getting over someone you loved." He replies sincerely ignoring her previous self-dig. "And if you ask me two months isn't enough time to get over anything."

"Almost two months and good thing I didn't ask you." She teased, tugging on her coat. "I gotta dip but thanks for this."

"Do you know what you're gonna do?" He follows her to the door noticing the stumble in her step. “You can stay the night if you want.”

She leans slightly to the left, eyes hooded. Her face crumbled with each passing second, the tough facade tumbling down. “I’ve decided what I’m gonna do.” She drops her shoulders. "Have an extra pair of sweats waiting though."

"Yes, Chef." He salutes weakly as a worried frown grew on his face. Watching her struggle to slip back into her Crocs helped him make up his mind. “Okay buddy you’re sleeping on my couch, come on.” He easily guided her back to the couch.

”Grab the sweats!” She shouts behind Marcus as she laid back on the cushioned surface.

“When is it?” Her words were hushed but clear. 3 o'clock on the dot had arrived and sleep evaded her still. She tossed and turn until her phone was in her hand and his number was being dialed. It was now or never. There was no way she was going to do this sober.

Of course, he’d pick up, the insomniac. “What?” He held his phone against his shoulder as he stirred his boiling ramen.

“The-the thing." She supplies, although with no explanation her words were useless.

"Syd, I don't-"

"When am I meeting your family, who isn’t Sugar.” She explains. "The dinner."

"Ah, I get it now." He stops what he was doing and turns away from the stove taking his phone into his hand. "You're drunk."

"Okay and?" She scoffs, "Look Carm, I decided that I'll lend you a hand now so later when I need a recommendation you'll help me."

"I'd help you, either way, Chef."

"I bet." She blew a raspberry. "So, when is it, big guy?"

"When is what?" He shot back.

"Carmy" She whines his name the way she used to. It made his heart pound and a smile spread across his face. It made his conscious mind melt away, replacing his thoughts with Syd, Syd, Syd.

It made him feel vulnerable and his voice got all soft and mushy, he'd feel embarrassed if he didn't enjoy how she made him feel so much. So, with a tone only reserved for her, he made her a promise. "Sunday night, 6. I'll swing by yours on the way."

"It's a date!” She says without thinking twice. “Or no it's not a date!"

"Drink some water and get some sleep Syd." He tutted fondly as he silently wondered when the urge to take care of her would go away. "I'll bring you some soup in the morning."

Before she could respond the dial tone interrupted her thoughts. "Asshole." She muttered affectionately before tossing her phone on the coffee table and nodding off to sleep.

True to his word the next morning he handed her a warm Tupperware container filled with his signature hangover soup. They both managed to show up before any of the other staff did. Despite sleeping over at Marcus' she managed to get up by five so she could go home, change, then hustle to The Bear.

“Did you-“

“No, I didn’t.” He shook his head. “Syd come on I know you’re allergic to sesame seeds."

She shrugs chuckling to herself as she uncovered the warm cloudy liquid. The aroma wafted past her reminding her why she trusted Carmy so much with her career trajectory. "We can all be victims of forgetfulness."

"I'd never forget something like that." His words were heavy. Weighted with what they both knew but didn't want to say.

Instead of a day filled with a familiar waltz the ex-lovers shared, their routine was filled with affliction. Damaging the very foundations of what helped the kitchen run so smoothly.

"You two are weird," Richie whispered to Carmy during their cigarette break. "Did uh something happen? You two aren't you know... tweedle dee and tweedle dum-ing it today."

"We uh we-we..." He breathed wanting so desperately to tell him exactly what was going on but he couldn't. The staff obviously hadn't shared the latest gossip with him and Carmy was grateful for the rush that kept them busy for much of the day. After tonight he would but not now. "Just nervous about tonight."

"Listen I already spoke with Donna, it's gonna be small just us. We're only popping open two bottles of wine."

"It's not the wine I'm worried about it's, it's." He pressed the heel of his hand against his eye. Weary of the conversation already. "I never wanted to mix Syd in with that side of the family, of me. What if she sees mom and what she does to me and she-she just leaves" He lets all of the air he'd been holding out. "What if she decides this place isn't worth it" that I'm not worth it "and she leaves for good?"

"Carmy, you're so much of a know-it-all prick I sometimes forget that you have no experience with women." He laughs then took a long drag from his cigarette. As if Carmy's dumbfounded expression alone stressed him out. "What the fuck are you talkin' about?"

"You're not listening cousin-"

"I am. Syd isn't going to up and leave you after meeting your shitty mom- no offense." He redundantly remarks. "If she was gonna leave she would've a long time ago. The girl loves you."

"I don't know...she, we-we arent-" The confession tasted bitter in his throat, the words were on the tip of his tongue when Richie interrupted him.

"She does, every relationship has its rough patch. Some last longer than others." He muttered, blinking away the memory of his once happy family. "She's nervous too according to Sugar."

"Really?" The hopefulness in his voice made Richie scoff at his naive cousin.

"Yeah, Syd's been asking her advice and shit about what she should wear and what Donna's favorite color is. The works."

Carmy exhaled feeling the tightening in his chest decompress. "You sure?" The hopeful lilt in his voice made his cheeks burn, but he couldn't really bring himself to care.

"Yeah kid, really" He blew a raspberry. "God I hope I'm never as gone as the two of you. Just foolish." He muttered the ladder part of his sentence to himself.

“A dress?” He tries not to let his eyes linger on her long legs, the same legs that wrapped around him night after night, but he failed. He noticed her outfit choice when he picked her up, but it took a while for him to muster up the courage to say something about it.

“I wanted to wear something different.” She tugged at the hem. “Too short? You know I'm not a dress person.”

“No, no” He finally left her legs and met her eyes. “You look perfect.”

“Bear!” His mom swings the door open and pulled him into a hug, tears already kissing her eyes. “You look so handsome, and you combed your hair?” She teased tugging at a strand. She turns to Syd, tears welling up once again. “And look at you.” She holds her hand eyeing her up and down. “Carmy goes on and on about those pretty brown eyes of yours but he did not do them justice.” She pulls Syd into a hug as Carmen darts his eyes around looking for an escape route.

"I brought you flowers." She hands the Berzatto matriarch a purple assortment of flowers.

"Wow," She eyed the bouquet admiring the color. “Oh Bear, she’s,” Donna shakes her head. “She’s gorgeous, your babies are going to be just beautiful” She turned away and entered the bustling house before he could speak. The soft sounds of Frank Sinatra drifted past their ears as the door swayed behind her.

“Sorry,” He quietly winces.

"Don't apologize," Syd hesitantly intertwines her fingers with his. "That's what any mom would say to her son and his girlfriend, remember?" She raised an eyebrow.

Carmy let a shaky breath go, gently wiggling his fingers in an attempt to calm his nerves. "Right, I just. I think I need a second outside."

Syd frowned before tugging the door closed and turning towards her counterpart. Her hands rested on his sweater-clad shoulders, forcing him to direct his full attention to her.

"Carm, just relax. It's just a dinner, we can leave whenever you want." She frowned when he shook his head, eyes blinking rapidly.

"M-my family, my mom. Everything is fucked... you-you see what happened with-" He couldn't say Mikey's name right now. It'd break him and he wasn't going to cry in front of Syd. She probably already thinks so lowly of him, after everything he put her through. He still felt indebted to her. "And I just don't want you mixed up in that."

"Well, good news! I'm black and I like to mind my business so we're golden. Now let's go inside, it's getting chilly." Carmy surprised himself with laughter making Syd crack a prideful smile. She grabbed his hand once more finding it a lot less shaky.

The dining room table was grand, littered with masterfully prepared dishes. The gift of cooking obviously ran in the family. Each of them took their place at the table. Syd's eyes trailed the room, beginning at the head of the table and moving counterclockwise. There was Donna who was on her third glass of whiskey followed by Sugar. Sugar's eyes were worried as she looked at her husband, Peter, who held their new addition in his lap. Next to Peter was Carmy who hadn't looked up from his plate yet. At the end directly across from Donna sat Sydney. She was a natural against the brut energy Donna gave off. Across from Carmy sat Richie who was going on and on about some MMA fight, his mouth filled with pasta. Sydney commented on it twice in disgust. Following Richie was Fak who wasn't invited but heard about the dinner and just decided to show up with some girl who seemed to mirror his energy.

Things continued smoothly as time lazily dragged behind them. The much-awaited grand finale usually took place during dessert. Donna was soon to amass their attention. Carmy braced himself as they all dug into their desserts. A nervous glance was shared between him and Natalie.

The lack of conversation could be heard. Silence in the Berzatto house was always so, so loud. The Berzattos were not quiet people, even Sydney knew nothing good lay ahead.

"So Sydney!" Donna began fondly, now beginning to consume her seventh glass of alcohol. She'd begun mixing brown and white two cups ago. "I want to know more about you, who is Chef Sydney the girl who stole our Bear's heart, and put up with him for a whole year!"

She could feel the shift in Carmy's energy, which naturally threw hers off but she quickly recovered.

"I'm from here, erm Chicago. And I've loved cooking since I can remember." She gives the blond woman a tight-lipped grin.

"Short, sweet, and to the point!" Donna chuckled, loudly. It went on for a second too long. "You gotta tell me, what's your secret for dealing with a basketcase like Carmy Berzatto? Because I tell you.."

An awkward silence descended down the table until it reached Sydney, who brushed it off easily. She glanced at Carmy, his eyes avoided hers as discontentment filled them. Upon closer inspection, she could see anger beginning to turn his face red. "Actually, it's been pretty easy." They matched eyes before she confidently turned to Donna. "He's an amazing person. He's attentive and caring he always takes time to listen and he's a big softie beneath all of that... machismo" She teased. lightly. "I've never worked with a chef so dedicated. So gifted-"

"Gifted?" Donna quirked a brow, almost mockingly.

"He cooks like... like nothing I've ever seen before, well 'tasted' before. I don't think he's ever made a bad dish in his life. It's what made me fall in love with him." His smile was small but present. It was reserved, only for her to see.

'You mean that?' He just barely tilted his chin.

'I've got you.' She gently nods once.

“Our big successful chef.” Donna interrupted their silent discussion. Sydney turned to her as her smile morphed into an unwelcoming snarl. Where fondness slept envy roared alive. “Too big to come and say hi to his mama bear.” Her fork clanked against her plate. The sound was reminiscent of swords being drawn, ready to head into battle.

”Hey, Donna could you tell me the tiramisu recipe?” Richie attempted to steer her attention away. "It's good as hell! Fak pass me the dish-"

”Ask bear!” She grinned at him. “It’s Mikey’s recipe the one he came up with alongside Carm!”

The table sat still, each head hesitantly turning towards Carmy. Richie found the table while Sugar attentively examined Donna. Peter examined Sugar, their babbling baby in his arms blissfully unaware of the building tensions. Sydney didn’t know why but Carmy looked so small. Not like himself. Her hand reached for his under the table, his touch made her shiver. Slowly, she pulled his hand to rest in her lap, cupped within hers. She placed her other hand above his cocooning his hand in her warmth and protection.

He sighed deeply as he looked into Sydney’s encouraging brown eyes. He remained looking at her as he spoke. “Mikey loved using half heavy cream half coconut cream. We figured it out one day when we didn’t have enough heavy cream," He finally gathered the strength to face his mother. "It came out perfect and we never changed.” Appreciative sounds filtered around the table.

“Oh, Carm.” Donna's laugh grew until it drowned out the room's quiet chattering. Her laugh dangerously teetered towards the sound of crying. The longer it went on the more Syd questioned if she was actually laughing or crying. Donna's hair covered her face and her hands trembled as she vibrated with sarcastic joy. “You are so special!” She clasped her hands together sending an echo around the room. “So special that you missed your own brother's funeral!” Her throat churned out louder and louder gurgling laughter until she fell into a coughing fit.

"Here Mom let's drink some water." Sugar handed her the cup of water Donna refused to touch all night.

"I don't need water!" The liquid splashed Natalie's legs as it fell to the ground under Donna's hand. "Go be useful and start the dishes!" She waved her hand behind her, not bothering to spare Sugar a passing glance.

Carmy exited the table, escaping from the world he so desperately wanted to leave. Donna was none the wiser, the alcohol content in her blood had exceeded normal levels and only her words were important in this moment. Each face surrounding the table was shadowed by the light of her vigor. Her stage was set and she was not going to let the moment pass without earning a standing ovation. Sydney turned to Sugar who darted her eyes in the direction Carmy went, silently telling her to follow. Which she did.

He sat on the steps of the house face buried in his hands. Without looking up he stuttered out. "P-please just leave, you shouldn't" He shook his head looking out at the street in front of him. "I never wanted you involved with this part of my life. Now you see why."

"Carmy." She slowly squeezed next to him, gently grasping his shaking hands almost instantly stilling them. "You are not your mother." She ducked her head catching his red eyes. His lashes were wet and his face flushed. "You're you, you're one of the best chefs at the best restaurant in Chicago if you ask me."

That earned her a chuckle, which she enjoyed. Warmth radiated through her chest when he grinned at her, despite his tears.

"How do you always know what to say?" He knocked her knee with his.

"Because, Chef, you're my Executive Chef I'm supposed to know you inside and out."

That seemed to sober him up and dry his tears. He'd forgotten that they weren't where they used to be. Not at all. Still, the words she used to effectively end their ten-month relationship replayed in his mind when he'd sit alone with his thoughts for too long.

"I think we just need to set some boundaries."

"Boundaries?" He repeated incredulously, tilting his head. "What do you even mean by that Syd?"

"We can't be together and run The Bear together, it's not working."

"Syd, you sound-"

"I sound what Carmen?" She narrowed her eyes challenging him.

"Afraid." He replied honestly. "You're just afraid, but that's okay because I am too." His hands wrapped around hers, pulling her closer to him with a gentle tug. Brown and blue watched each other, their noses brushed. His lips ghosted across hers and they tingled at the feeling. She was feet away from him when he blinked again, pulled from the haze they often created when in close proximity to one another.

"I'll clean out my drawer tonight." She left out the door before he could argue. He watched her go. That was all he could do. She left him, his lover, his soulmate, the one thing he thought he'd gotten right... she left him.

"Earth to Carmy." She snapped her fingers pulling back his focus. "Dude you gotta stop staring at me like that." She teased but he saw her throat move alongside a nervous gulp.

"Sorry, I just..." He shrugged. "I'm just happy that you're in my life still after" He waved his hand. "After everything. You're the only sure thing I have."

These were the times Sydney felt her defenses were down. That all of the hard work she put in to get over him was simply a farce. A mask she wore to avoid the deep-cutting pain that their separation left her with. He just had to look at her, sick those intense eyes on her and she was suspended in his delicate grasp. He was saying so much. Professing his love, apologizing for whatever, begging her to come back. She felt it all, she read it all just from a simple gaze. She hadn't realized her eyes had fallen closed until his nose brushed up against hers, and her lungs sucked air in begging for the burning to stop. She could feel gentle bursts of air tickling her glossy lips and he'd begun to feel a hint of stickiness rubbing against his.

"Carmen!" Donna burst through the door ruining what they'd just created. The rest of the dinner table was in tow. Their faces were worried, they'd obviously been trying to talk her out of going outside. But Donna was a Berzatto and you didn't tell a Berzatto what to do. "I just came to apologize." She stumbled forward as Carmy stood to his feet to catch her. "I ruin everything." She sniffled, mascara-dyed tears trailing her face. "I'm sorry Sydney." She turned to the stunned girl, nearing her to pull her into a hug but Carmy grasped his mothers' arm pulling her back.

"Let's go to bed ma." He began leading her back inside without another word.

Syd watched them go, feeling pangs of sadness in her chest as Carmy and Richie helped her to bed.

"Claire said she was sober the last time she came to dinner." Fak's friend, Kelly, whispered her statement to Fak but Sydney heard. Sugar knew that Sydney heard because her eyes widened along with hers.

"Wait, Claire? As in Carmy's ex-whatever?" Syd questioned as her brow twitched, the warmth that spread across her face was due to something other than nervousness now.

"I feel like I said something I shouldn't 've." Kelly's eyes widened as they bounced between each of them. She awkwardly cleared her throat before slowly turning away and walking back to the dining room.

"Hold on, come back-" Sydney started to follow her but Natalie stopped her.

"A few weeks back Carmy brought Claire to dinner," She informed her before quickly adding, "He said it was innocent and they just randomly ran into each other."

She shouldn't care. She really shouldn't. They weren't together anymore and this was all fake. He had his own life and he was obviously living it. She had her own life and she had to start living it sooner or later. It's her fault for thinking highly of a man with deep-seated mommy issues anyway.

"It's fine." She pressed her lips together in a thin line. If Sugar was Carmy she'd be poking and prodding her for additional information. She'd see right through her mystique and ask what the fuck was up. But Sugar was not Carmy, she accepted Syd's answer and went back to the dining room.

The man of the hour walked back in, his face drained of energy. Richie patted his back before leaving for the living room. She wanted to be angry at him, but fuck he still held the key to her heart and he refused to return it. The fucker.

"Let'g go." He said just above a whisper and they went.

The car ride was quiet, aside from Carmy's outdated radio that played early 2000s pop through static. It wasn't until he pulled up to her house that the silence was sliced open.

"Okay, what is it?" He shifted gears and turned to her.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She crossed her arms. He kept secrets she could keep secrets too.

"Sydney..." He huffed. "Please, just tell me, it's been a long day."

"Fak's friend said that Claire was at dinner with you and your family a few weeks ago?"

He paused pursing his lips. "Yeah, we uh ran into each other and-and she's a family friend so" He shrugged.

"Right, right" Sydney slowly nodded, her patience was running thinner by the second. "So, just a silly question!"

Carmy braced preparing himself. "What's up?"

"Why didn't you just bring her to dinner? I could've fucked off and spent my night with someone else. With Marcus or-"

"Marcus?" He cut her off. "What is it, are you two together or something? I've noticed how close you two have gotten." He challenged. "Funnily enough it was right after you left me."

"That's none of your business Carm!" She rolled her eyes, deciding to not dignify his accusation with a response. "I'm just saying, next time bother her with your odd jobs. I'm sure she's great at jobs!"

“Look nobody twisted your arm, okay?” He ignored her crude joke, voice raising only slightly. But in the tight space of his car, the smallest inflection made all the difference. He knows better than to raise his voice at her. “You willingly came."

“You might as well have twisted my arm! You put on that forlorn face. The one that makes you look like a wounded puppy-“

“Nice” He scoffs. “Really nice. Look just go, get out of my car.” He reached across her and opened the door. Her perfume clogged his nose and all he could do was think about how angry the smell made him. How she took it away and dangled it above him day in and day out. How she didn't even leave so much as a t-shirt with her lingering scent. One he could press against his face and inhale on the nights he missed her the most. He couldn't stop thinking about how someone else was enjoying her scent instead of him. How someone else got to see her more than him and listen to her ramble on and on about cooking and anything else that popped into her head. He couldn't help but feel bitter, it should be him.

“Yeah, whatever” She slams his door and rushes towards her apartment. On days like these, she wished her dad was behind the door waiting for her with his comforting smile. Ready to soothe whatever ill feelings she was experiencing. But when she unlocked her door she was met with darkness and silence. She was alone.

She’d just taken her shoes off and thrown her purse on the kitchen island when she felt a shift in energy. The air was thick and a creek sounded from the front of the apartment. He sighed heavily, it emanated from the cracks in the door. He knocks softly as if he didn’t want her to hear.

She stared at the partition, internally debating on what she should do. Perhaps if she stood as still as a statue, he’d surmise she was in the shower or didn’t hear him and leave.

“Come on Syd I know you’re there.” His thick accent made his words stick together.

“Weirdo.” She muttered sauntering to the door and swinging it open. Ugh, there goes those eyes again.

“I heard that” He brushed past her and into the dimly lit apartment. “Look, I-“ He shakes his head, placing a closed fist over his chest. They hadn’t done it in a while. It felt way too intimate after their breakup. But drastic times called for drastic measures. He must've known how easily that'd make her turn to mush. “I’m sorry. Sorry I yelled and guilted you into coming to dinner and for being shitty in the car-“

“Woah woah woah slow down Carm” She meets him further in her home, clicking on a soft light. The golden glow created a halo above his head. “You call that yelling? I’ve endured much worse from you.”

“Unfucking believable! “ He throws his hands in defeat. “Can’t you just be quiet for like 10 seconds while I apologize? “

“Oh, this is an apology“ She points to nothing in particular. “It's great Carm, keep going!” He released a heavy sigh through his nose. Her brown eyes reflected the light and softened her hard gaze. Her deep skin glistened under the low lighting making her appear enchanted. Like something out of a Renaissance painting.

“God, you’re insufferable and stubborn." How could someone so breathtaking get under his skin like this?

She ignored the clarifying beauty he naturally possessed, nothing was going to distract her from what she needed to say. “You’re neurotic and have anger issues! Maybe take a therapist to dinner next time.“

“I wish I never fucking hired you!” He yells.

“I regret ever walking into that shithole!” She fires back.

He breathes taking in the gravity of her words. “So, that’s really how you feel?”

She ignores his inquiry because no she doesn’t feel that way. She counts the day she walked into The Beef as one of the best things that ever happened to her. But he didn’t need to know that. “Look I was waiting for the right time to tell you but," She takes a deep breath, preparing herself. "I’m leaving.”

“What? The Bear?” He felt like he’d just been gut-punched “I don't understand. You can’t leave?”

“I’m leaving, Carmen.” She stands her ground, on trembling legs, but she still stood her ground.

He blinked a few times feeling tremors of anxiety climbing his arms. “W-when?”

“Next month.” Her voice cracked. "I was offered a great position in LA and I'm staging there soon. Look, I've been scouting CDC's and I found a reliable one. He's hard-working and... Carm?"

He hadn't realized he was shaking until she gently touched his forearm. He jumped away as if her touch burned him. Their uneven breathing filled the room with sound. The distant sounds of cicadas screamed outside and the air conditioning clicked on before she decided to continue speaking. “Carm say something?”

“You can’t leave.” He repeats which made Sydney rolls her eyes.

“I thought once upon a time that I’d never leave. That you… that we’d have The Bear as our baby forever but,” She blinks back tears, she’d die before he’d get to see her cry. “Things change and people change. Plus you just said you wish you never hired me."

“So this is it?” He mutters giving her those pleading eyes again. “That’s just it for us?”

“Yeah,” She slowly nods, brushing her hand over his. No matter what went on between them they seemed to have a force between them. Pulling them closer and closer without either realizing it. "This is it, I'll be out of your hair in a month.

“This can’t be it, Chef,” He says mere inches from her face. His eyes trail to her lips that sat waiting for him. “Look, I-I need you.” She could only gulp feeling the intensity of the situation set in. After their breakup things were sore for a while but they had lives to live. They never had a chance to double back, to have one last hoorah before lights out. "Sydney. I thank god every day that you walked into The Beef and accepted that position. I don't want you out of my hair."

“You don’t need me-“

“I do need you.”

"The Bear was always yours."

"It's ours. I can't imagine sharing it- this, with anybody else. Sydney." He slightly shook his head. "Don't do this, baby."

Maybe it’d undo all of the work they put into trying to hate each other. Trying to forget about the other's touch or the feeling of their lips on each other. But they could no longer deny what they wanted to do so badly. His hands still felt right around her, pulling her closer. His lips still fit perfectly against hers. She still loved to jump up into his muscular arms and wrap her legs around him. He preened at the feeling of her back in his arms like this, kissing him like nothing ever happened. She sunk into the soft foam of her bed as he laid her back and proceeded to climb over her. His mouth hovered over hers, hesitantly he opened his eyes in an effort to read her. The girl who stole his heart (and one day his last name) was still so hard to read. But at this moment she was open her eyes were honest. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. Carnally. His yearning was near animalistic at this point. Not being able to kiss her and taste her for seven and a half weeks was making him go crazy, but here she was. His fix, waiting for him to make the next move.

"Syd, I...I don't want this to be just sex." He confessed. "I want you back. I'll do anything, I'll change anything. Just please, don't leave me." Her brown eyes flashed with something he couldn't put his finger on but her smile made his heart flutter. Her hand was soft as it gently ran over his ear and neck, despite the burns and cuts she endured over the years. He recalled her once saying shea butter kept her hands soft. She always smelled of it and this time was no different.

"Let's just enjoy this, yeah?" She leaned up kissing him as her arms pulled him against her body. His mind yelled at him to stop talking and enjoy the moment, but how could he if she was just going to walk right out of his life after?

They touched and kissed and rubbed against each other until Syd found herself on top of him. Her heat pressed against the stiffness that pressed against his jeans. Her sounds were intoxicating when his hands gripped her hips and controlled the speed of her gyrations. Over and over again she ground against him chasing sweet pleasure. He could stay like this forever. They both knew that. He never came in his boxers until she walked into his life and sat in his lap. She pulled away, desire in her eyes as she worked to open his jeans.

"Boles de Picolat." She says as her warm hand wrapped around him and began moving up and down.

"Fuck" He groaned. "Are you seriously thinking about the menu, now?" He panted already seeing spots. He hadn't had sex or even masturbated after their breakup, so he was embarrassingly close to coming from less than ten strokes of her hand.

She slinked down his body and made him curse god as her warm mouth sucked him in. His eyes rolled when his leaking tip pressed against the back of her throat. Her velvety smooth mouth swallowed him down as her throat gagged from the spurts of come dripping out of him. "Sorrysorrysorry" He wasn't sorry. His hips twitched as she continued worshiping him, he was still hard and ready to feel her all over.

"I didn't want to forget." She giggled innocently, his dick still twitching in her hand which made Carmy feel all types of hot. He gently grabbed her hand and pulled her back to him so he could kiss her. He tasted the saltiness of his release lingering on her tongue, but he didn't mind. "Also don't apologize. The point is to come." She yelped when he rolled them over. His shirt was the first to go followed by her cardigan. Her dress came off as he leaned back down to kiss that adorable smile off of her face.

"How many?" He questioned as he kissed down her body. He could smell her arousal mixing with the mango and vanilla of her perfume. He kissed her clothed valley, feeling just how turned on she was through the lacey fabric.

"How many what?" She questioned.

"How many times do you think I can make you come?" He used his finger to push her panties aside so he can finally taste her. He moaned like a little bitch when her tangy cream melted on his tongue.

She whimpered, trying her hardest to keep her legs open but it was becoming harder with each pass of his tongue. Her thighs were pressing against his ears, vibrating in no time.

Like the ocean kissing the shore, he rolled his tongue over her swollen bud relishing in the high pitch sounds mewling from her mouth. He loved her like this. She walked around The Bear like she was the toughest thing out of Chicago. Never taking time to relax and rest. But Carmy knew just how to sedate her. He knew how to turn her brain to mush so she had no choice but to relax under him. He hadn't realized he'd forgotten to remove his rings until his fingers were knuckles deep inside of her, but by the volume of her moans, she didn't mind. She constricted his fingers as he pressed over and over against that sweet spot within her. He pulled back to observe at her pulsating entrance mesmerized at the beauty of her body. God why the fuck was he jealous of his own fingers. Her hips jerked and her cunt pulsated rapidly as her first orgasm washed over her.

She didn't have time to fully recover. When she blinked he was lining himself up at her entrance, his red, leaking tip rubbing her over throbbing clit.

"Carmy,-" She began, tone unreadable. As it usually was. She was always so worried. He cut her off by shoving his fingers soiled with her pleasure into her mouth. She deserved to experience how good she tasted.

"Sh, just enjoy it." He slowly pressed into her loving the dazed look that overtook her face. She nodded obeying his command as he began gaining pace. He removed his fingers when she moaned filthily head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Fuckfuckfuck" She breathed already feeling another orgasm climbing her body. His pace accelerated pulling her leg a bit higher on his hip so he could fuck her through her second orgasm.

"That's it" He encouraged against the shell of her ear. "Let go, love." His groan matched hers as she squeezed him, writhing through another orgasm. Her moans were growing louder and louder as he continued fucking into her at the same pace. Her thighs were touching her belly now as his hands held her legs up. A simple glance down at his hands commanding her body made her sensitive rose throb with pleasure. "Again, already?" He couldn't help but chuckle.

"Fuck you-" Her words were cut off when he adjusted his angle and found some hidden button that made her words slur into unintelligible stuttering. He grinned watching her let go again, this time pushing him closer to the edge.

"You're so beautiful" He panted feeling his orgasm creep up his body. "You're my beautiful- fuck- my beautiful girl, all mine." He let an embarrassing noise echo through the room as he released long white stripes inside of her. She met his thrusts wanting to draw his orgasm out as long as possible. His throat was raw as he gulped down air trying to regain his composure but tremors of his release were still running through his body like an electrical current.

Later that evening they lay beside one another in her bed. She rested against his chest and he inhaled the sweet smell of her hair feeling his heart burst. Then something hit him.

"Earlier you started saying something but I stopped you," He could hear the tiredness in his voice. "What were you going to say?"

She hummed drawing a circle on his chest with her finger. He kissed her forehead. Since he'd gotten her back in his arms he couldn't stop adorning her face with kisses. "That I uh...I was just gonna say, I love you."

He figured. It still freaked him out how well they knew each other. "I love you too."

#sorry about formatting tumblr fucks everything up #thats why i posted on ao3 #should there be a part two?#maybe titled unfoolish (iykyk 👀)#the bear #the bear fx #sydney adamu #carmy berzatto #ayo edebiri #carmen berzatto #jeremy allen white #the bear spoilers #sydcarmy #chefs kiss #the bear fic #carmy x syd #syd x carmy #carmen x sydney #sydney x carmen

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lephamquynhnhu · 9 months

Text

Millennial Aegis

Chapter 4

Jing Yuan x Fem! reader

WARNINGS/ TAGS: Arranged marriage, the reader has a default name, OOC, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. (This is a work of fanfiction, events are not aligned or relevant to the original work)

Word count: ~2300

Summary: He is so stubborn to give up on you, and you are too hard-headed to reciprocate his affection. When do you both stop torturing each other?

Not long after, you were recruited as his Strategic advisor and responsible for internal affairs. At first, you thought there would be disputes and inefficiency when working with Lord Jing Yuan, but the fact reverses. You and the general surprisingly harmonized in working together. Hence, the next fifty years of marriage continue to flow smoothly.

When you start thinking this is what happens for the rest of your life, the wheel of fate fails astray its railway, once again.

One day while you and Lord Jing Yuan were supervising the Artisanship Commission, mara-struck Cloud knights ambushed you. After just a millisecond of exchanging thoughts in silence, you two have agreed on the proper course of action in this urgent situation. He actively blocks and takes the enemies down at the front line as you evacuate innocent citizens and protect them with Baritsu or even Jujustu if a quotient enemy manages to get past the general's defense. It is supposed to be a perfect plan as Jing Yuan could easily fend off the attack to stall time for the evacuation and reinforcement. Nevertheless, the table suddenly turns when foes actively change to target your swing, which makes the circumstance dire.

"A Zhi, watch out!" - You only hear the general shouts a warning. As soon as turning around, you see red.

Your pupils squeeze at the dreadful sight of Lord Jing Yuan shedding blood because he used his body to shield you from the mortal wound. Before staggering, he quickly decapitates the said enemy with sublime swordsmanship. Time seems to freeze, and everything is immovable as you witness the fearful scene since you never see him in this state. A wrathful aura with bloodthirst he gives off sends a chilly shiver down your spine. However, Jing Yuan draws his sword into the ground to refuse to kneel.

You will never forget the moment rushing toward to support him. The slash runs from his left back shoulder to his right hip, and the smell of rusty iron intrudes your nostrils as the bright red stains your hands. Those things make your blood run cold and leave you incapacity.

"I'm glad you are okay." - the general now completely lean on your figure and only murmurs the last sentence in your ear before blackout due to blood loss. Fortunately, the reinforcement finally comes in time to suppress the chaotic situation.

"That fatal blow intended to reap your soul. If Lord Jing Yuan did not shield you, it would massacre you into two pieces."

The statement of Lady Bailu keeps roaming over and over your head, as you sit beside the bed and hold his hand dearly. After the assault, the general was hospitalized at Alchemy Commission and stayed limp in a coma for five days. Jing Yuan's body temperature is hot, and his palms are always cozy against your skin, but now, it feels like you are touching a marble figure. Cold and lifeless. Your heart aches whenever skimming over his pale complexion to see a feeble breath that looks like his longevity emits through exhalation. It must be your illusion since you barely sleep these days and vitality drains from your brain. Negative thoughts start overwhelming your mind as thinking the worst scenario. "What if...he never wakes up?" - That question replays countless times as you bring his hand to cup your cheek to seek solace. The burning sensation in your tired eyes accumulates to form woe tears.

Meanwhile, the general had a bad dream in his comatose status, in other words, a nightmarish one. His mentality treks across a vast sea of twinkling stars and finally arrives at a flowery blooming hill, roseate pastel petals looming freely at the landscape. Jing Yuan sees a man from afar, and he is mourning. His feet automatically take control as he dashes toward the man and backpedals to recognize his other essence.

"Lord Jing Yuan, are you crying?" - You abruptly appear in a spirit body with a glowy halo luminance, and a sad smile decorates your feature.

"I am sorry." - You gently mumble while wrapping your arms around his other essence, but he seems unbothered. Or rather, he cannot sense it. Too close yet so distant. Jing Yuan's mind goes wild at the scene, but unable to move. The last thing he sees is a blazing crimson ray shining bright under sunlight from your red Camillia hairpin.

His Highness is pulled back to the present and finds tears threatening to fall from your lower eyelids.

"I don't like seeing my lady cries."

Your lashes fly open at a familiar low-tone voice. The gentle Autumn glint in his amber orbs never changes when watching you. Jing Yuan uses his thumb to attempt to wipe your tears but only makes them roll faster. They finally burst out and cascade like two small springs on your face as you are paralyzed.

The general thinks every cloud has a silver lining because the proximity between you two shortens, and the invisible wall begins crumbling. His dream is no longer a fleeting fantasy as you comply with his childish requests, even receiving his affection. If trolling around the hellscape is the external push factor bringing you to his arms, a worthy price to pay.

"Why did you shield me, your Highness? We are immortals, so the ordinary wounds will not kill us?" - You finally give out curiousness while feeding him with an oat porridge bowl. Lord Jing Yuan answers as a matter of fact that he wants to keep you away from any harm at all costs.

"What kind of legendary general cannot protect his wife?" He adds and chuckles at your inquiry.

Warmth blooms over your heart. Perhaps, you eventually felt for Jing Yuan after two hundred years.

Three months later.

"You should stay at Alchemy Commission for at least one following month." - Thanks to his prime, the injury healed quickly, and his recovery process was shortened than anticipated. He is supposed to stay longer at the Alchemy Commission for advanced monitoring, yet he decided to discharge sooner.

"I knew that, but I want to sleep with my lady." - the general tightens his embrace around your waist, nuzzling your hair.

You two keep silent for a while and lie still as a bizarre mellow tranquillity nestles in your mind. If it were you back two centuries ago, you must be pondering what kind of this feeling. However, you of the present tense acquire the answer that you miss him and wish to sleep by your husband's side too.

"About the ambush..." - Jing Yuan's voice arouses the serenity of the night veil - "It was an organized crime" - you looking at the void when completing his sentence.

"Pretty sharp as always, are we?" - A low chuckle escapes his lips and resonates behind your back.

When connecting the dots, that is a proper conclusion you can draw. The mara-struck occurred accurately when you two were at the center as traffic and the crowd were at a peak. Moreover, the comms signal was more sluggish than usual, which indicates an anonymous party dipped its hand to hinder information connection. That explains why the reinforcement arrived late and pushed you into a passive state by prolonging your defense time. On top of that, the most convincing factor was the enemies' movement. Ordinarily, Cloudknights with Mara-struck would attack any living identities in their eyesight, but they changed target to you as if somebody commanded or manipulated them to shift behavior. In addition, there was a high possibility that they were domestic criminals because they knew you were always the general's weakness and familiar with your schedule. Only people who stay long enough in Xianzhou Luofu recognize this point. Or even worse when treacherous power hides among your authority.

You give out an exasperated sigh thinking about the subject. You silently hope the criminals did not conclude with foreign factors because things gradually grew more complex. The event feels like a bell that prophesies a vicious storm to Xianzhou.

After fully recovering, you two begin to investigate the ambush and explore the existence of an organization called Disciples of Sanctus Medicus. They followed the path of Aeon Abundance and plotted a grand scheme to overthrow the current government. There was also convincing evidence pointing to their failed attempt to assassinate the Abitrary-General. Not long after, Lord Jing Yuan and the Internal Bureau opened an expanded operation to eliminate that organization. All the data and files from this performance were saved as the utmost military secrets and unpublic. However, as soon as the underground battle successfully ended, his Highness got the intel that the Abundance's evils were devasting the other ships. Hence, the Xianzhou Alliance summons him to partake in their purging expeditionary.

The two of you do not measure the duration of his absence, but the general will not return before several upcoming decades. You suspect the ensnarement was just a catalyst of the event sequence, or maybe you are too skeptical to theorize a nonsense hypothesis.

You sigh softly as your hand is placed flat on his chest armor before seeing him off but say nothing. Lord Jing Yuan takes it and squeezes a little, still keeping silent.

"General...please take good care of yourself from now on and return to Luofu safely."

He scans over your face and cannot read your mind yet. Perhaps, both of you have tangled thoughts and do not know how to display what kind of expression. He suddenly snuggles you into his embrace, and you hug him back firmly after a second of surprise. The usual scent of cedar wafting as you breathe in the base of his neck for one last time.

"You will always be here for me, right?" Jing Yuan's voice cracks slightly while your eyes start to tear up.

"I will wait for your glorious triumph and be here for you."

Your cheek presses against his chest armor as you whisper the response.

He feels light-hearted and looks down with a soft smile. His eyes seem to sparkle with affection and admiration towards you.

"Thank you...for everything. And please take care of yourself too. I will see you again someday."

With that short farewell, the general and you depart different paths.

All the Luofu's affairs are now your responsibilities and execute with Lady Fu Xuan. Since the absence of Lord Jing Yuan, time seems to stop flowing, and the four seasons no longer hold any meaning. To you, they are now the linear of weather morphing. Spring with hundreds of flowers blooming synergized with the honeyed love songs of birds does not reach your interest anymore. Summer comes along the blue sapphire sky, and the symphony of cicadas is a mere trait of fiery weather. Even the mellow Autumn hue used to remind you of his amber irises now seeming arid and tasteless.

"Your Ladyship...Your Ladyship!"

There is a concerned voice calling you desperately. It seems familiar, but you cannot figure it out as your clouded mind is incompetent now.

"Master Jin!"

The title finally does the trick when a sugar cube flops down your tea as you are back to reality.

"You space out again, your Ladyship." - Yanqing points out with a pout on his face.

You and your musical disciple have been playing chess, and it would be shameful if he finds out you are not concentrating on his movement. However, the young boy is far intelligent to hit your nerve with another fact. He beams before you recover.

"My master Jin must miss General too much."

Your dark frown at Yanqing sends him quivering a little.

"Since when did you become this audacity?"

He would be doomed if provoking you any further, so he says his apologies and excuses himself quickly to evade your forthcoming reprimands. Looking at the boy jump with joy, you assume Lord Jing Yuan was too lenient with him. Maybe, so were you.

Either way, your shared disciple hit your bullseye as you thought about Jing Yuan more frequently lately. Due to the attribute of every war, you must avoid all electronic devices with short wavelengths to prevent line-tracking. Moreover, to secure leaking any secrets, you incinerate every letter Lord Jing Yuan sent once done reading. It has been nearly one hundred-odd year pass, and you lost count of the letters exchanged. You cannot help but ponder what he felt when waiting for you to reciprocate his love because it is unbearably painful now. You divert concentration on the snow-besieged yard where frost blasted every bud except for one thing. Red camellia still prominently blossoms at the ethereal white despite the harsh weather. Whenever looking snowflakes fall ceaselessly like this, you imagine them as dandelion clocks dancing around the ambiance. Your mind starts drifting back to the old memory when the two of you drank wine and contemplated the full moon.

"Have you ever seen any shooting stars, Lord Jing Yuan?" - You asked him while watching a burgundy maelstrom swirling in your crystal glass.

"Not yet. Something in your mind?"

A halation crowned above Jing Yuan's head when drawing attention to you. He looked like a divine creation when bathing under that hazy moonlight then. You might be drunk as seeing the blurry silvery locks adorning his face.

"People said that wishes will come true if you finish your sentence before they disappear." - You zoomed out your eyesight to the endless celestial bodies skyward, shining like hidden gems - "I...want to be your hero for once."

You finally closed your dreamy eyes and dozed off on the general's shoulder.

Finally, the expeditionary finished with a victory when the cherry blossom flourished. All of Xianzhou Loufu's corners sing the triumphal hymn to welcome back their legendary general as swallows levitate in the high sky. As soon as Jing Yuan returns to his estate, you jump on to hug him. Being crashed surprisedly, he loses his balance leading you both to land on the floor. After some moments, he manages to get himself up, and he feels like his heart nearly explodes with joy as clinging to you once more.

"A Zhi, I am home."

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