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#but I feel the need to protect that bean
petalsfordany · 11 months
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thinking about lottie desperately saying to nat “just because you don’t understand something doesn’t make it evil” when she’s been struggling to understand herself and her illness/abilities with and without her medication her entire life and being told by her parents for years that it’s shameful and a bad thing and… anyway I’m gonna go cry about lottie matthews again
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badolmen · 2 years
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wish me luck lol
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nicksolemnlyswears · 5 months
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THE BEAR AND THE BEE HIVE
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summary: in which carmy falls for the sweet café owner that supplies him with endless americanos
pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader
word count: 14.4k
warning: it's a little bit of a slow burn. sorry. i'm a sucker for it and i feel like carmy is a slow burn kinda guy. 18 +, cursing, smut, p in v, oral (m. receiving), fingering, they use protection guys! i deserve a pat in the back. nothing too wild. oh, and very brief mention of suicide.
a/n: i started writing this way back in october and then it was nearly done and i abandoned it. well i finally got around to completing it tonight!
this is my first time ever writing for carmy and i tried my best writing this. i love carmy and the show but i didn’t expect it to be hard to write him as a character. i wanted to get him right so i took my time with it and didn’t rush it. hopefully you guys like my carmy. enjoy!
i think i've had this stored in my drafts for like 4 months and it's time for me to set it free.
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The cigarettes were not enough anymore. No matter how many smoke breaks Carmy took, he still felt the edge on his shoulders. A fear laced with anxiety that overtook him.
After deciding that blowing through yet another wall in his restaurant was the way to go, Carmy took a break. He needed it before he used the sledgehammer to destroy the restaurant in its entirety, along with his dream.
He remembers a coffee shop only a block away from The Bear and thinks he could use a coffee right about now. Maybe the mixture of caffeine and nicotine will be able to relax his shoulders, if only for an hour.
As soon as he opens the door, the smell of ground coffee beans greets him. He looks around, taking in the cozy ambiance the decorative wood brings to the place and the splashes of warm yellow that lighten it up.
Then he sees you, and his focus shifts entirely. His eyes only see you.
"Hi, welcome to Bee Hive!" You chirp with a small smile.
Carmy freezes, forgetting why he's there in the first place. He slowly steps up to the register, where you patiently wait for him. It's just after the lunch rush, so you're in no hurry.
He finds he's acting like a teenager who has just seen a pretty girl. Only he's not a teenager, and you're more than a pretty girl.
"What can I get for you today?" You ask, not noticing the effect you've had on him. You take a sharpie out of your yellow apron, preparing to scribble down his order in a cup.
Carmy has perfected the empty on the outside but screaming on the inside face. Strangers don't tend to know he's almost always losing his shit.
"I-I don't…sorry," Carmy looks at you briefly before diverting his eyes. He apologizes in a flurry, looking for an excuse for his weird behavior, "Uh, it's my first time here. What do you recommend?"
"It's not a problem," you say softly as if to calm him, "I'm a simple girl. I love the latte, but if you're looking for something stronger, the americano is one of the favorites."
Carmy nods as you ramble about the drinks, where the coffee beans come from, and the different notes of each blend. He hangs onto every word that slips from your lips. The static in his brain clearing up for the first time in hours.
It ends too soon as you realize you're talking too much and probably overwhelmed him. You sheepishly smile at him and trail off, but he continues to stare, waiting for you to continue.
"I'll take the Americano," Carmy nods, giving you a tight-lipped smile. Although he had been hanging to every one of your words, he was too focused on the shape of your lips and the sweet tone of your voice.
"Good choice," you nod, grabbing a cup from the tray beside you, "What's your name?"
Carmy looks up, slightly alarmed, as if you've asked for his social security number. "What?" He thinks you'll be forward and ask for his number next, seemingly forgetting how coffee orders work.
"Your name? For the order?" You explain, trying to ease his worries. He's odd, but in an endearing way. You believe this is his first time here because you're confident you would've remembered him.
"Fuck, right, yeah," he nervously says, pinching the bridge of his nose, "My name's Carmen."
"Your Americano will be right out, Carmen," you tell him, capping your sharpie back up.
Carmy quickly pays and stands to the side to wait for his order. He forces himself to not look at you or in your direction as you take other customers' orders. He just knows he's made a fool of himself already. Not that it matters. Why would it matter? He's there for the coffee. Nothing else, no one else.
As he walks out of Bee Hive, he sips his coffee. His shoulders instantly drop, and his fear-induced anxiety starts to dissipate for the moment. He's unsure if the effect is because of the caffeine or the thoughts of your pretty smile.
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Visiting your coffee shop becomes routine for Carmy. Whenever things at The Bear become crazy -or he starts to lose his fuckin' mind- he makes his way to Bee Hive with a cigarette hanging from his lips.
For twenty minutes, he's free of Richie's constant hounding, Sugar's struggles with the permits and scheduling, and Sydney's disappointment because the menu is still extremely underway.
Each time he's stopped by, you've been there to greet him, and each time, you've left a little heart by Carmen's name, which makes his heart race in a peculiar way. His hands would touch his chest to check if it was heartburn, but it didn't feel like that. It's not anxiety either cause he knows pretty well how that feels.
All he knows is he hasn't done anything to deserve such a gesture. He's convinced himself you draw little hearts for everyone because he's not special.
One Thursday afternoon, Carmy realizes he doesn't know your name. He looks for a name tag, but you're not wearing one on your yellow apron. He should know your name if you insist on making small talk despite his short answers.
He can't help it. He gets too in his head to answer like a normal person, so his answers come out choppy and dry.
"Alright, Carmen, your order will be right out," you say, handing his cup to one of the baristas. You always hold out and ask him what he wants to order. He has the right to change his mind anytime, but for now, he's stuck with the americano, which he drowns in sugar.
As curiosity eats at him, he gathers the courage to ask. "Thanks. Hey, uh, I've-I’ve never gotten your name…” Carmy says, cursing at himself for not formulating the question correctly. His hand comes up to grip his hair instinctually.
Your smile widens when he asks your name. The silly crush you've developed for your customer fluttering to life. It's just a crush over a stranger, nothing to write home about.
You tell him your name but follow it with "-call me Honey. Everyone knows me by that name. I'm sure if you ask my friends about me with my real name, you'll throw them for a loop."
You're rambling, hoping he doesn't think calling you by your nickname is weird. Then again, how can he judge when he has a sister people call 'Sugar' and he and his siblings also don the nickname 'Bear.'
"Honey." Carmy repeats your nickname, smiling as he finds it fitting. "In that case, call me Carmy."
"Nice to properly meet you, Carmy," you say, grinning.
Like all the days before, Carmy steps aside and waits for his coffee. He doesn't let himself continue the conversation or ask more about you even if it’s everything he wants to do.
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It's rare for Carmy to be in a good mood, and whenever it happens, it doesn't tend to last. His goal of opening a restaurant in 12 weeks makes it impossible for him to relax and enjoy the ride. To prolong this unusual feeling, Carmy stops by Bee Hive on his way to The Bear.
"Have you made your boss angry, Honey?" He asks as he pulls out his wallet to pay. He ordered the americano as he always does.
"No…why do you ask?" You ask, tilting your head in confusion.
"Uh, 'cause you-you're always here. Do you not take days off? Not that I'm complaining. I-I like seeing you here." Carmy's words get quieter as he speaks, red creeping up his neck. So much for trying to make a joke.
You look around the room and tell him, "Imma let you in on a little secret."
Carmy follows your hand, waving him to get closer. The smell of cigarettes invades your senses as you get close to him. You'd never admit that the mix of his cigarettes and your coffee is addicting. As both lean over the counter, you whisper, "I'm the boss. I can't run away even if I wanted to."
"You own the coffee shop," Carmy pans in shock.
Carmy is more than surprised at your words. Especially now that he knows how expensive it is to open a business. You can't be a day over 25 and own a successful coffee place. There is hope, after all.
"I do," you nod, standing straight once more.
A couple of years ago, you had inherited a hefty amount of money from an estranged aunt. Fresh out of college and with no real plan, you thought it would be a good moment to follow your dream and open the cozy café.
"How do you do it?" Carmy asks, amazed at the girl smiling at him. "I don't know if you know, but, um, I-I'm opening the restaurant around the block. Used to be The Beef?" He finishes grimly as he points to his side of the block.
"Oh, yeah. The guys who worked there helped me move some equipment when I first opened two years ago," you reveal, "Tell you what, whenever you have a break, come around. I'll give you a free americano and tell you all about it. Neighbor to neighbor."
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Carmy agrees. "I'll take you up on that."
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Weeks go by, and Carmy seemingly forgets about Bee Hive and your pending conversation. You try not to overthink about his absence or how you might've scared him away. He's probably just busy remodeling his restaurant. You know better than anyone how much time that takes.
Still, his presence has become part of your routine, and you can't help but look at the door each time the bell rings. You expect to see him walking up to the counter, the remnants of cigarette smoke coming out his nose as he breathes.
You're pretty close to your assumption because Carmy has been dealing with the fire suppression test. They didn't fail the test once but twice, and if they didn't pass it on the third try, their plan to open the restaurant in 12 weeks goes out the window. Fak has tried everything, and nothing works.
He'd sent Richie once on a coffee run, but the fuckin' idiot went to the nearest Starbucks. Carmy had been looking forward to tasting your coffee and seeing his name in the cup with the little heart because he's 100% sure he's the only Carmen you know. It's not a common name in these parts of town.
One very early morning, he's walking to work, and as he passes Bee Hive, he sees you inside, wiping tables down before you open at 6:30.
Impulsively, he knocks on the glass, not giving himself the time to overthink things. You turn to look at the window and see him standing outside, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his familiar plaid jacket to protect himself from the chilly March air.
"Hey stranger," you greet him, opening the door and inviting him in.
"Hi," he breathes out, staring at you, "you're here early," he tries to casually mention.
You roll your eyes dramatically and say, "It's a downside of the job. Did you know people want coffee at the crack of dawn?"
You try acting as nonchalant as possible. It's not like you missed seeing one of your favorite customers, his beautiful blue eyes, or the way he rocks a simple white t-shirt.
"I had no idea," Carmy smiles, bringing his tattooed hand up to his lips, "I, uh, usually drink mine at night." That much is true. On those sleepless nights when insomnia takes over him, the best remedy is coffee.
"Would you make an exception and join me for a morning coffee at the crack ass of dawn?" Anxiously, you play with the rings on your fingers. It feels like you're asking the guy on a date when it's just a friendly coffee.
"As long as you have some business advice to spare?" Carmy responds shakily. He briefly looks down the street to glimpse at his restaurant. It's too early for anyone to be there yet.
"Deal."
Throwing the towel over your shoulder, you make your way behind the counter. Carmy attempts to make small talk with you as you prepare both drinks.
This is the first time he's watching you in action since you tend to stick to the cash register when he's around. It's not a coincidence. After the first time he came to Bee Hive, you wanted to see more of him, so you stationed yourself at the register where you'd be sure to see him, and he'd see you.
"Here you go." You place his coffee mug on the table along with yours before disappearing momentarily and returning with an orange soufflé coffee cake. You're pulling all the stops for Carmy to leave a good impression.
Carmy thanks you and sips his coffee, "Wow, this is fire!" He expected to taste an americano, but what you prepared was entirely different. He can make out hints of hazelnut and caramel in the coffee.
"Thanks. I took the liberty of changing your order. You can always come back to the americano, though…" you shrug shyly, looking at him over the rim of your mug.
"I-I appreciate it. Thanks." Carmy throws you a nervous grin. He gestures with his tattooed hand to dig into the cake you brought out. He shouldn't be the only one eating.
You and Carmy share the cake as you talk about yourselves and the crazy businesses you own. Somehow, talking to you comes easy to him. He's still nervous and scared to fuck things up, but the warm coffee and your even warmer smile ease him into it.
"How do you do it? This place is always packed, and you seem like you run a tight ship," Carmy wonders, playing with the fork. The cake is long gone, although the notes of orange remain on his tongue. Would you taste the same?
"It wasn't without mistakes. I had to learn a lot from my fuck ups and listen to my team because although I'm the owner, they are the ones doing most of the work. Whenever there's a flaw, they are the first to know," you speak softly, afraid of ruining the calm ambiance you've set up, twirling the small amount of coffee left in your mug.
It's your favorite part of morning coffee. When you have just the smallest bit of coffee left, and you know you'll never drink it because it's cold, but it gives you an excuse to remain where you are.
"So, all I gotta do is listen?" It's funny you say that because Carmy listens, but his friend's voices get muddled somewhere along the way. As much as he tries to focus on them, they merge together and form a cacophony in his head.
"A lot of listening and a lot of experimentation. I've been open for two years, and it's only been in the last six months that I can confidently tell you we found our groove," you admit with a grimace.
Bee Hive is your baby, but bringing it to life was everything but easy. You messed up so many times, costing you so much money. You didn't know shit about owning a business or building one from the ground up. Doing research and putting your pride aside to ask for help got you through it.
"I've only been doing this for, like, less than a fuckin' year, and I already want to pull my hair out," Carmy admits with a pitiful laugh.
"I'm sorry I can't tell you it gets better soon," you say apologetically, reaching for his hand that rests on the table.
Carmy freezes, glancing at your hand on top of his. He hasn't got a clue what to fucking do with the display of affection. Was it a display of affection? He doesn't fucking know. "It's, uh, it's, uh, it's alright. As-as long as you give me coffee, I think I can make it through," Carmen furrows his eyebrows as he stutters through the sentence.
"I can't wait to see what the award-winning chef does," you say, bringing your hand back to your lap, none the wiser to Carmy's internal struggle.
He should've done something to keep your hand on his. Place his other hand on yours or fucking turn his hand around to grasp it. He liked feeling your warm skin on his. It hasn't been a minute since you pulled away, and he's craving it already. It's ridiculous. Is he really that touch-starved that he's seeking affection from a near stranger?
He coughs and darts his eyes between the wooden table top and you, "Fuck. You-you know about that?"
"I might've done some research after finding out you're opening the restaurant. I got curious. I'm sorry." Apologizing is your default thing to do. Messing things up is your area of expertise. You really didn't think he'd mind you mentioning it.
"No, no, no, uh, you don't have to apologize. You just caught me off guard," Carmy shakes his head, reassuring both of you.
"Okay, good," you lightly smile at him, averting your eyes when your gazes meet.
If there's a time for you to make a move, it's now. Taking a shaky breath, you speak up, "I was wondering if you'd ever like to-."
A loud knock on the glass door interrupts you. You and Carmy jump and look towards the source of the noise. It's one of your regular clients, waving at you to open up. Looking at your watch, you see it's 6:30 already.
"Shit. I'm-I'm sorry I took so much of your time," Carmy apologizes, picking up his mug and the plate to put away.
You grab his wrist to make him stop in his tracks, "Relax. I enjoyed talking to you. Maybe we can do it again soon?"
Carmy nods wide-eyed. He likes the idea just as much as you do. You take away the mug and plate with a soft 'okay.' He then follows you to the door as you unlock it and turn the sign to 'open.'
"I, um, gotta go work on the menu. I'll probably be back later for another coffee?" Carmen asks you as if he's asking for permission, which you find adorable.
"I'll be behind the register," you say, watching him walk away. He turns his head back for a moment, and you catch the smile gracing his lips as yours turns to mimic him.
"Oh, he's cute," your customer, an older lady, says, watching him go along with you. "It's about time you got a boyfriend."
"Mrs. O'Hara, here for your tea?" You ask her, ignoring the comment about your love life. That woman will set you up with anyone. She does love her tea, though, and expects you to provide it on time.
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It's slow, but Carmen warms up to you. Instead of grabbing his coffee to go, he now drinks it at the café, coincidentally around the same time you take your break.
He's been hesitantly opening up. It's not like he's telling you about how fucked up his family is or how his brother committed suicide. More often, it's about the restaurant and his work as a chef, the struggles of getting every permit they need on a tight schedule since they are supposed to open in about four weeks now, or the occasional childhood memory. It's everything you need to know at this stage.
You love listening to Carmy talk, even if you have to coax it out of him sometimes. He's passionate about the restaurant despite all the stress that comes from it, and he adores the people he works with. He's shy but not in a dorky way because he's actually fascinating. Before meeting him, you never knew that collecting denim was a thing.
The smell of cigarettes that clings to him is also tightly laced with his character. When you step outside to get some sun and the scent of someone smoking hits you, your heart instantly speeds up, hoping it's him coming for his daily americano, or to come swoop you away into a sunset.
"-I fell on my ass in the middle of the street. I was freaking out, thinking I was gonna get run over by a car," you exclaim as you tell Carmy about the crazy Christmas you spent in New York last year.
"It's New York. You probably would have been run over," Carmy chuckles along with you. "There was this one time I was running late and-" His phone vibrating interrupts him.
"Sorry, it's just the fridge guy," he tells you with a furrow of his eyebrows. You notice he does that a lot when he's thinking deeply. Carmy silences it and looks back over to you.
"You should pick that up. A busted fridge is the last thing you need. Trust me. Been there, done that." You encourage him to take the call. The restaurant is more important than your story about how you bruised your coccyx in New York.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, Carm! Call him back before you forget," you insist, grabbing his empty cup to trash it. You don't give him any other option, leaving him there to help your employees with a faulty machine.
He watches you closely, closer than ever before. He allows himself to watch how you frown at the machine and how your ringed fingers fumble with the knobs. His eyes keep trailing down involuntarily, and they take in how nicely your jeans hug your ass.
He goes into a spiral into these old pair of Levi jeans popular in the 90s and how they would fit nicely with the shape of your hips and legs. Carmy continues on the tangent, imagining himself peeling them off your body.
The phone vibrating in his hand snaps him out of it. Clearing his throat, he picks up the phone and walks outside. He waves at you through the window as he makes his way back to The Bear. Your frustration at the machine vanishes momentarily as you wave back, except the machine splatters, forcing you to redirect your attention. When you look outside again, he's gone.
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Stakes are high at The Bear. There's less than four weeks until Friends and Family, and there is much to do. Marcus has returned from Copenhagen and is working on the desserts. Tina is doing her job as the new sous chef. Fak and Sweeps are helping out wherever they can. And Richie is being Richie, trying to be open but resisting change.
"I need coffee or a pop. Anything with caffeine," Sydney says, throwing her head back. She and Carmen have been working on the chaos menu for hours, and she keeps messing up. Carmy insists that it's okay that they'll adjust and get it right soon, but she's beginning to lose hope.
"Me too. I'd kill for an espresso," Natalie agrees, softly rubbing her hand over her growing bump.
"I thought you couldn't have caffeine cause of the baby," Richie mentions, remembering Tiff's time while pregnant.
"I don't need you to fuckin' tell me what I can or can't eat, Richie," Natalie yells, glaring at him. Although he's right, the doctor told her to limit her caffeine intake. Hard to do when she's up all night thinking about everything she needs to do for The Bear.
"Shit. I'm sorry for fucking caring," Richie screams back, lifting his hands up in defense.
"I can go to the coffee place down the block. Get everyone something," Carmy pipes up, looking forward to seeing you today.
Natalie is quick to shoot that idea down, "You can't. The fridge guy is coming in 20 minutes."
"Fuck, that's right," Carmy groans, digging his head in his hands. His fingers rake through his hair, messing up his curls. He wanted to see you and talk to you, even if it was for five short minutes.
"I'll go," Sydney sighs. She needs to leave the kitchen for more than five minutes, or she'll go crazy, "Just tell me what you guys want to order."
Natalie grumbles about getting decaf, Richie orders a plain black coffee, and Carmy asks for his americano. As Sydney leaves to ask Marcus, Carmy yells after her, "Please, go to Bee Hive. If you get Starbucks, I'm gonna fucking lose it."
Richie and Natalie exchange a look. Richie because he's confused, and Natalie because she knows something is happening with Carmy. He's never been picky over coffee. In fact, they have an old coffee machine in the office that now goes unused because he's always at that coffee shop.
"Sorry, I didn't get the fuckin' memo. Since when is Starbucks bad?" Richie frowns, looking to get a rise out of Carmy.
"I don't think it's about the coffee, cousin," Natalie responds, directing her gaze towards her brother, who is hunched over the counters, chopping vegetables.
"If it's not about the coffee, what is it about?" Richie questions, crossing his arms.
"Shut the fuck up, Sugar," Carmy grumbles, looking at his sister with a glare. He already knows where she's going. She tried to bring it up a couple of days ago after she walked by the coffee shop and saw him being friendly with you.
Natalie smiles and responds, "Carmy has a crush on the barista."
"That's ridiculous. I don't have a crush on her." Carmy shakes his head, avoiding Richie and Natalie's eyes on him. They always do this. They gang up on him if he shows even the slightest interest in a girl. They think they can help, but all they do is embarrass him.
"Come on, Bear. Why else would you go almost every day to get coffee?" Natalie asks, giving him a look.
"Because it's good fuckin' coffee. Jesus, it's not that deep." Carmy grabs the veggies he chopped and drops them into a container to use later.
"It's okay to admit you like a pretty girl, cousin! I'm excited for you! Makes you human and not a lonely hermit," Richie jokes, pushing on Carmy's buttons. "When was the last time you got laid?"
"I swear to God, Richie. Shut the fuck up," Carmy points at him angrily.
"No, I should go with Sydney and see who this girl is!" Richie says, walking out of the half-built kitchen.
Carmy follows him instantly, "You're not going fuckin' anywhere, fuckin' jagoff." He's turning red from anger, seeing Richie with his mocking smile. Natalie follows behind them, amused at the situation. It reminds her of the banters they used to get in with Mickey.
"Admit that you like her," Richie shrugs, giving him a choice.
"No, I won't," Carmy refuses. "You always do this shit."
"Then, I'm going," Richie nods, stepping towards the door.
"Fuck! Shit, alright. I like her, okay? Don't fucking go anywhere," Carmy yells, rubbing a hand on his face out of frustration. It's like he's not allowed to keep anything good to himself.
"Was that so hard?" Richie grins, clapping a hand on Carmy's shoulder.
"Don't fuckin' touch me," Carmy grumbles, walking back to the kitchen. Natalie follows him with a smile, shaking her head at Richie.
Carmy sighs and squeezes his eyes shut. He has yet to admit that he likes you more than he should. He's been avoiding it, afraid of what it might lead to, or rather, what it might not.
He couldn't let Richie go see you. He has a big fuckin' mouth and will tell you Carmy has a crush on you whether it's true or not. Just like that, he feels the sour taste in his mouth, his heartburn making an appearance. Carmy should go look for his pepto before it gets worse.
Unaware of the argument back at The Bear, Sydney walks to Bee Hive. She's walked past many times but has yet to have the time to stop and try it out.
As she waits in line, she reads over the drinks menu. It's clear that it's been carefully curated. Starbucks has nothing on this menu. She can see why Carmy would prefer to come here instead.
When it's her turn to order, Sydney takes out her phone to recite everyone's drink order. She also points to a few pastries, thinking Marcus would like to try some of them and get inspiration. That and she knows Natalie will enjoy them as well.
You're sitting at a table close to the pickup counter. You often find yourself all over the store, ensuring everything goes smoothly. Sometimes, you stop to talk to your regulars and see how they're doing.
You notice Sydney struggling with all the cups she has to carry. It's proving difficult despite the to-go trays your barista put them in. Deciding to approach her, you ask, "Do you need help?"
"Oh, no. I'm fine, thanks," Sydney responds with a nervous smile. She's trying hard to grab everything, including the box with the pastries.
You continue watching her struggle because you know she needs help. You let her try and figure it out for one more minute before stepping in again when she almost drops two of the drinks, "Need some help now?"
"Yeah," Sydney sighs, "I guess I can leave one of the trays here, go to the restaurant, and come back for the rest," she speaks mostly to herself.
"Are you going far?"
"No, just the restaurant down the block," Sydney responds with a sigh, scratching her eyebrow as she tries to figure out the logistics of carrying the drinks. She could get a box to put everything in.
You perk up at her response. The only restaurant down the block is Carmen's. Could she work there? "Carmy's restaurant?"
"You know Carmy?" Sydney asks, tilting her head. Maybe Nat was right. Carmy spends his time here because of the woman in front of her.
"He comes here often. Anyway, I can go with you to help you out. It's not far, and I'd feel bad if your drinks got cold." You offer to help her out because you're a nice person. Not because you want a chance to see the curly-haired man you are developing feelings for.
"You really don't have to…"
"It's really not a problem," you press, grabbing one of the to-go trays and motioning for her to lead the way.
Sydney sighs in defeat and nods, "Thanks. I'm Sydney, by the way."
"I'm Honey," you smile, following her outside.
You chat all the way to the restaurant with Sydney. She reminds you of Carmy in some ways, so you can see why they are friends. Before arriving at the restaurant, Sydney apologizes in advance for any sort of mess there might be, including yelling.
As you near the building under renovation, your palms start to sweat. Maybe you shouldn't have come. You're showing up unannounced, and he's probably too busy to talk to you anyway. You can slip in and out without him noticing. That's the goal now.
You open the door for Sydney, letting her go through first, and quietly follow her into the restaurant. There's no time to escape, as all eyes are instantly on you.
Richie is arguing with Fak when he sees you walk in. He narrows his eyes as Carmy looks in your direction from the kitchen. With just one glance to Carmy's face, he knows who you're supposed to be.
"Guess I didn't have to go anywhere. She came to me," Richie whispers, rushing out the door.
"Shut the fuck up. Where are you going? Don't embarrass me!" Carmy whispers out to Richie unsuccessfully.
"Oh, you'll do that all by yourself," Richie throws over his shoulder.
"Honey, hey, what-what're you doing here?" Carmy speaks, not giving Richie a chance to open his big mouth. He stands between you and Richie, blocking him for the time being.
"Sydney needed help with the drinks," you answer nervously, averting your eyes.
"Oh, thanks for that. You didn't have to," Carmy approaches you and takes the drinks from your hands. His fingers brush with yours momentarily, causing you both to blush.
"I did, or else you probably wouldn't have anything to drink," you whisper to him.
Sydney, Fak, and Richie all watch the interaction amusedly. Richie has a big teasing grin on his face as he makes a plan in his head.
"Hi, I'm Richie! Carmy's cousin," he introduces himself, shoving Carmy to the side and shaking your hand enthusiastically. "I gotta say Carmen right here is obsessed with your coffee. He's banned us from getting Starbucks."
Carmy curses under his breath as Richie does precisely what he tells him not to. He has the urge to throw the coffee at him and run away.
"Is that right?" You ask, amused, looking over at Carmy with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh yeah," Richie answers for him as Carmy tries to find the right words to say. "Cousin, why don't you give the nice lady a tour of the place?"
"It's not done yet. Could be dangerous," Carmy hopelessly says with a gulp.
"Nonsense! You'll take care of her!" Richie insists. He takes the coffee from Carmy's hands and pushes him in your direction. "Go give her a tour."
Richie, Sydney, and Fak all disappear to the office to stay out of the way and try to snoop simultaneously. Fak sends Carmy a not-so-discreet thumbs-up that makes you giggle.
He's internally screaming at his so-called friends but is glad to see you. It was all he wanted before Sydney left to get their drinks. It's strange having you here at The Bear, though. He's so used to seeing you in your own space back at Bee Hive.
Trying to make things better, you say, "Sorry you've been roped into this. You probably have better things to do. I can go-"
Carmy doesn't let you finish. "No, stay. I want to show you around."
"Let's see what you got then, Berzatto," you grin, following him to the kitchen.
Carmy takes his time showing you The Bear. He wants you to stay. He wants to spend time with you but doesn't really know how to say it. So he takes it slow, answers your questions about the restaurant, shows you the front and how everything will be laid out, and introduces you to the ones around, including the fridge guy working on the handle.
Sadly, you get a call from Bee Hive asking you to come back. Carmy walks you outside, dreading having to say goodbye.
"I'm really excited for The Bear to open. You have a great place and team," you tell Carmy.
"I really got lucky with them, huh?" He asks, playing with a dish towel.
"I gotta go. I'll see you later, Berzatto." You don't know where you got the guts to lean towards him and kiss his cheek.
Carmy stays still as his face heats up. You start walking away and throw him a smile over your shoulder. When you're a distance away, he touches the cheek you kissed. Back inside, Richie runs over to Sugar to tell her what he just witnessed.
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It's late when Carmy leaves The Bear. As he walks to the train station, he has his hands stuffed in his jacket pocket. On his way, he sees a lone light turned on in your café. Crossing the street to check it out, he sees you're still there with glasses perched on your nose in front of the computer.
He tries the door, and to his luck, it's open. You look in his direction, startled, but relax once you see it's him.
"Nice glasses," Carmy teases, pulling out a chair to sit.
"Are you making fun of me?" You purse your lips, propping your chin on your palm.
"No, I…I think you look cute with them," Carmy admits. After a stern talk from Sugar and Richie, he's realized he should probably make a proper move on you because if what they say is true, you also have a crush on him.
"Thanks," you blush, the light from your screen making it obvious to Carmy, who can't stop the corners of his lips from turning up into a smile.
"Late night?"
"One of my baristas is moving out of state. I have to find someone new, preferably who has experience," you say with a sigh. Glancing at him, you add, "Are you perhaps interested in the position?"
"Poaching me from my own restaurant, nice. I'll let you know I'm an excellent worker," Carmy jokes, tapping his fingers on the table.
There's no doubt in your mind he's an excellent worker. He has to be if he's considered one of the best up-and-coming chefs. Or to work in one of the best restaurants in the world with three Michelin stars.
"I don't know. I'll need references," you speak as if not believing him.
Carmy smiles and softly chuckles, "Fair enough."
There's a moment of silence between the two of you that Carmy is quick to fill, "So, uh, have you had dinner yet by chance?" This is it.
You shake your head no and look at him with hopeful eyes.
"Wanna go grab pizza? I know a place," he asks, finding your gaze on him.
"Say no more," you say, closing your laptop and taking off your glasses. "I'm starving."
Carmy waits for you to lock Bee Hive and grab your things. Then, you both walk to the pizza place. To pass the time, you and Carmy talk about your days and anything that comes to mind. Nothing serious as you get to know each other.
Waiting in line to order the pizza, you tell him all about your nickname and how you were donned 'Honey' to everyone who knows you. In return, he tells you about his nickname 'Bear' and why his restaurant is named as such. For the first time, he dares mention Mickey.
"Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy says, taking a slice of the pie and placing it on your plate.
"I'll see about that," you murmur. You wait until he has a slice of his own and dig in simultaneously.
"It's good, but this is not the best pizza place in Chicago," you say after chewing the first bite, "I'm gonna get your chef license revoked."
"Are you? With what proof? Have you tried all the pizza places to know?"
"I don't have to because I've tried the best," you hum, taking another bite. The cheese stretches as you pull it away.
"Oh yeah? Which one?" Carmy questions you, taking a drink of his beer.
"Mine. The pizza I make is the best," you shrug modestly.
"Wait. You cook?" Carmy asks, giving you a look of surprise.
Cooking is a universal thing. Most people know how to cook up to a degree, yet only some are as confident in their skills as you are. You know you're definitely not up to Carmy's level, but if there is something you know how to do properly, it's pizza.
"Yeah! You're not the only good cook here, Berzatto," you sass back at him, dipping the pizza crust in the marinara sauce.
"Sorry for assuming," he raises his palms.
"You're forgiven," you chirp.
"When will I try this famous pizza of yours then?" Carmy wonders. An attempt to see if you'd like to see more of him.
"I promise I'll make it for you once you open The Bear. You're too stressed to fully enjoy it now," you respond. You were reaching out. Throwing hints that you want this to continue in the foreseeable future.
The conversation continues to flow with an empty pizza box in front of you. Customers come and go until it's only the two of you and a drunk customer picking up his pizza.
"Tell me about your tattoos. Were they an act of rebellion or something else?"
It's an excuse to touch his hands. You reach for them, turning them to see the black ink on his hands and fingers. You gently trace over them with the pads of your fingers. Over the hand that's stabbed, the letters S.O.U. on his knuckles and the forget-me-nots. The one you're dying to touch, though, is the one on his bicep; you'd give anything to feel the hard muscle underneath the rolled-up sleeves of his white t-shirt.
"Uh, my first tattoo is the 773. Got it when I left Chicago for the first time. After that, I sort of became addicted to them. I found they helped my anxiety when it was becoming too much. The pain distracted me and made me feel stronger than I actually was," he says, letting you touch him. He finds that he likes it. Your touch is soft and warm. Comforting.
"So what you're trying to say is you're a masochist," you say, bouncing your eyebrows at him. Your touch goes further up his arm to turn it and look at the fish tattoo on his forearm.
"I guess so," Carmy responds with a breathy laugh, "Do you have any tattoos?"
"Maybe…" You shrug as the pads of your fingers trail back down to his palm until you pull them back towards you. Carmy instantly misses the feeling, opting to cross his arms to retain the warmth you left behind.
"It's bad, isn't it?" He says knowingly. Your reaction told him everything he needed to know.
"The worst," you grimace, shaking your head at the memory of you getting it.
"So, rebellion or something else?"
"Rebellion. For all the wrong reasons," you groan, burying your face in your hands, "Growing up, everyone saw me as a good girl because that's what I was. Breaking the rules terrified me. So, as a teenager, I didn't want to be seen as a goody two shoes, so the summer before I went to college, I decided that getting a tattoo would make me a badass."
"Did it work?"
"God, no. I only got the outline done 'cause it hurt like a bitch. Then I went crying to my parents, fully having a meltdown, apologizing for disappointing them," You scrunch your nose as you say the following words, "They laughed in my face, called me a wimp, and told me to suck it up."
Carmy fully laughs at your story. Head thrown back, eyes closing, "What did you get?"
"That's a secret, Berzatto," you purse your lips, avoiding responding. You just know he'll make fun of you for it.
Everyone who has seen your tattoo has made fun of you for it, yourself included. It's so silly and not badass. Carmy will have to wait to see your tattoo, and you hope this continues so he can see it up close.
"Really? That bad?" Carmy stares wide-eyed.
"It's terrible," you nod, leaning on the table. "We should probably get going before the waitress throws a fit."
Carmy looks over his shoulder to see the waitress glaring at them. It's five minutes till close, and they've made no move to go. He turns back to you and nods towards the door. Carmy helps you with your jacket and leaves a tip on the jar for the waitress. At that, she happily calls after them with a 'Good night!'
"Do you live far?" Carmy asks, seeing how dark it is now that most places have closed. There are too many lamp posts that aren't working. He'd feel better if he could walk you home or you called an Uber. Preferably the former.
"Only a couple of blocks away. Why?"
"It's late. Let me walk you home," Carmy says decidedly, not giving you much of a choice.
"Thanks," you respond with a small smile.
The pace you set is slow. You don't want your time with Carmy to end just yet. He's such an interesting and sweet guy. He's a little awkward, but it adds to his charm, and you can see he's trying.
Somewhere along the way, his hand brushes against yours briefly. Then, it happens again, and you decide to bite the bullet. You grasp his hand in yours.
"Is this okay?" You ask when he falls silent.
Carmy doesn't have a lot of experience with girls. He can't even remember the last time he held a girl's hand. All he knows is he doesn't remember ever feeling this good. "Yes, uh, this is okay."
Carmy walks you up to your front door when you reach your house. You unlock the door but stay outside face-to-face with Carmy.
"Thanks for the pizza," you say, fiddling with your fingers. You were about to make one more move for the night. Because as long as Carmy allows you, you'll keep pushing for more.
"Sorry, it wasn't the best," he retorts, rubbing his jaw with his hand. You notice he does that a lot when nervous.
"Your company made up for it," you reassure him, "g'night Carmy." You kiss his cheek goodbye, watching as his cheeks blush.
"Night," he whispers.
As you turn to leave, Carmy stops you by grabbing your wrist, "Wait-uh, can I? Uh-shit. Fuck it." For a second, Carmy shuts out the excessive thoughts in his head and does what he's been dying to do for weeks.
Carmy cups your jaw and kisses you. It's soft and slow. He gives you enough leeway to pull away if it's something you don't want, but you reciprocate eagerly. You've been waiting for this all night.
As confidence surges through his body, Carmy throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You wrap your arms around him, one of your hands resting on his neck, tangling on his curls. The tug of your fingers feels like heaven.
The kiss turns needy and desperate, your lips moving perfectly in sync. His tongue brushes over your lip; Carmy has been dying to test a theory. Are you as sweet as your name?
He's rewarded by a little noise in the back of your throat as he slips his tongue into your mouth. It's endearing, and he finds a way to make you do it again. With heads tilting to deepen the kiss, he concludes he was right. You're pure honey. Sweet and addicting.
When Carmy returns to his apartment, he gets the urge to create, to cook. He wants to bring your taste to life with his cooking. Something with honey.
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"I was wondering if you'd want to come to the restaurant for Family and Friends."
You and Carmy are in your little office at Bee Hive. He stands between your legs as you sit on the desk. His lips are slightly red and swollen, and the hair at the nape of his neck is messier than usual.
"Hm, I could be persuaded," you pretend to think as you play with the golden chain around his neck, pulling him towards you.
"Yeah?" Carmy laughs, leaning to brush his lips against yours. When he feels you nod, he closes the small gap between the two of you.
His hands hold your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. He tastes like coffee, which is to be expected from the discarded cup beside you. It's funny how your relationship, if it could be called that, has moved all around Bee Hive from the register to the front and now to your office.
You're at a weird spot where you're not exactly friends because friends don't kiss, but you're not a couple either. It's a situationship for sure. You're content with what you have now, although you'd also love it if Carmy were to ask you to be more. You pin it on him being shy. He'll get around to it.
"What do you say?" Carmy questions as he kisses a trail from your cheek to your jaw.
"Consider me in," you giggle when he kisses a tickly spot.
Carmy brushes a strand of hair out of your face, remaining close to you. This is what he needs. After months of stress and anxiety of having to deal with The Beef, now The Bear, he needed you and your calming presence. Someone removed from the chaos, a safe haven.
He's quiet as his thoughts consume him, and you take the intimate position to fix his gold chain. Turning it so the clasp faces the back instead of the front. "I'm excited, Carmy," you say with a smile, brushing his cheek with your thumb.
"You can bring someone with you," Carmy offers nervously because he realizes he probably won't have the time to spend much time with you. "I-I don't think I'll be around much. I'm sorry. I'd understand if that makes you change your mind," Carmy drops his head as he braces himself for disappointment.
As the weeks pass, you learn more about Carmy and his insecurities. It doesn't deter you from wanting to be with him. Everyone has their issues. "Berzatto, stop. Look at me," you softly divert his attention, "I'd love to go and support you even if it's from the sidelines."
"You sure?" He asks once more.
If reassurance is what he needs, that's what you'll give. "Don't worry about me. This is your moment, Carmy. Enjoy it. I'll be around afterward."
"Thank you for understanding," Carmy responds, stealing one more kiss from you.
When he returns to The Bear, he helps Sydney prep the dishes they finally chose to serve. He notes how everything is laid out and anything they should fix before opening.
Richie struts into the kitchen with a suit on. Apparently, it's his thing now. Carmy figures staging at Chef Terry's restaurant had a good impact on him. All Carmy wanted was to show Richie he had what it takes. That he's not a fuck up.
"Glad to see things are going well with Honey," Richie thunders.
"What are you talking about?" Carmy says in a rush as he plates the lamb expertly.
"That thing on your neck," Richie says, motioning to his own neck. He has a smug look on his face.
"I don't have time for this, cousin," Carmy grumbles, wiping the plate where the sauce might've splattered.
Groaning, Richie grabs one of the new pans and holds it in front of Carmy. "I don't see anything," he frowns, looking at Richie for an explanation.
"Right here," Richie points towards the edge of his t-shirt around his neck.
Carmy pulls it back and finally spots what Richie has been referring to. There is a fading purple bruise on his skin, a hickey. You must've done it when he was back in your office. He'd been too busy touching you to notice.
Sydney, silently watching, pipes up, "No wonder he hasn't been as on edge lately." Carmy shoots her a glare, which causes her to shrug and laugh with a, "What? It's true."
"Ay, yo, Sugar, get in here!" Richie yells down the hall to the office.
"What is it?" Natalie barges in, afraid something went to shit.
Carmy ignores Richie as he babbles to Natalie what he found. His face is red, though, as Sydney nudges his side.
"That's enough about me. We have shit to do," Carmy shouts in his chef's voice.
Everyone in the kitchen, including Richie and Natalie, repeats, "Yes, chef!"
Walking out of the kitchen Richie, 'whispers' to Natalie, "I've always wondered if he likes to be called chef in bed."
"Fuck off, Richie," Natalie glares, but then it falls, and it's replaced with a teasing grin, "He definitely does."
"I heard that! Don't you two have better things to do?" Carmy screams at them.
"Yes, chef!"
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Carmy keeps hearing Cicero's 'Uh-oh' throughout the whole day. He understands Cicero, he really does, but to call you a distraction?
His work with The Bear is only starting. They managed to make it to Friends and Family. Now, they have to keep up their best work to fill up the restaurant daily and have a waiting list. His work is far from done. He should listen to Cicero.
Cicero said it with the best of intentions. He doesn't want the Berzatto siblings to fail. He wants to believe they'll succeed and, most importantly, get him his money.
If there is something Cicero has learned throughout the years, it is that girls are distractions. They mean well, but oftentimes, they keep your eyes off the ball. Especially when it's a new relationship like Carmy's. Ultimately, it's up to Carmy to decide what he wants to do. Cicero has played his part by giving him his advice.
One last delivery is made to the restaurant an hour before opening. Richie is the one to receive it and place it in front of Carmy. "She's a keeper, Cousin," he says with a pointed look and a nod. He also wants the best for Carmy, and yet it doesn't align with Cicero.
You knew Carmy would be too stressed and all over the place to eat or drink, so you sent everyone at The Bear a drink and a pastry. One of the cups has Carmen's name with a little heart and 'good luck' written on it.
"Yeah, she is," Carmy sighs, turning the cup in his hands to look at the message. His thumb brushes over your handwriting longingly. Is listening to Cicero the wise thing to do? He's one of the most successful men he knows in his family.
When it's 10 minutes till open, Carmy changes into his uniform and looks in the mirror. His heart is racing, begging for Friends and Family not to be a complete failure. Walking out of the bathroom, Carmy is a man on a mission.
It starts relatively well, but like everything in Carmy's life, the kitchen starts welcoming in the chaos.
They are too slow getting the orders out, which causes Sydney to start doubting herself and asking Carmy to step in. He reassures her she's doing good. They just have to keep up the pace.
Then, one of the new chefs disappears mid-rush. Forcing Tina to work two stations and Marcus to step out of his to help Sydney. Carmy ignores some weird tension between them as he works on ensuring the dishes are good to go.
Next thing he knows, Sugar is rushing into the kitchen, yelling at him about forks. It's wasted time, as he can't do anything about it. A shrill reverberates inside his head as he looks at the ticking clock. It's enough to give him a headache.
With no one to take a dish to its table, Carmy takes it upon himself to do it. There's no time to re-fire or wait for someone. He places it on their table and pours the tea into their cups before retreating with an 'enjoy.'
He looks at his restaurant, and suddenly, the ringing in his head gets louder. Sitting in a booth is his old boss, staring back at him like he did back in New York. Like he was waiting for Carmy to fail.
His voice echoes in Carmy's head. Why are you so fuckin' slow. Hurry up. Go faster motherfucker. Talentless piece of shit.
Right before Carmy spirals, it all goes away. His focus shifts entirely as he sees you taking your seat for the night. The one he chose because he'd be able to see you from the kitchen. You have successfully blocked the mirage he'd conjured up.
You're there with your brother as Richie talks you up, thanking you for coming. As if sensing him, your eyes lock with Carmys. Shyly, you send him a wave, which he returns, thanking you in his head for getting there at the perfect time.
Carmy ducks back to the kitchen with newfound energy. Richie enters shortly after him.
"Chef, your girl is here."
"Thanks, Chef, um, do you have the notepad?" Carmy asks as he continues cleaning dishes and making sure each one is up to par.
"Here you go."
Taking the notepad from Richie, he begins scribbling. I love- No, too fuckin' soon. Thank you for- Nope, it's too stale.
I'm happy you're here, Honey. Wait for me after you're done? -Bear
"Here," Carmy hands it to him without even looking at Richie.
"Keep up the good work, Chefs," Richie yells out to the room before disappearing to the front of the house. The door swinging shut behind him.
"Yes, Chef!"
Something isn't working in the kitchen. They're too backed up, and no matter how hard they try, they're always a tad too slow. Through Sydney surrounding the wheel to Richie, Carmy steals glances out the kitchen window. You're smiling at whatever your brother says, your lips sipping the wine he chose. Carmy can get through this night because, in the end, you'll be waiting for him.
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"There he is," you sing as you spot Carmy walking out of the kitchen. The chef's whites back in his locker as he sports his white t-shirt, jeans, and jacket.
Fak, who kept you company while Carmy finished up, speaks up next, "My brother, I'm gonna grab a sandwich and head home. Honey, it was a pleasure meeting you."
"You too, Neil!"
"Thanks for everything," Carmy tells him, giving him a hug and a pat like dudes do.
Carmy turns and grabs your hand to pull you close and kiss your cheek. "What did you think?"
"It was the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," you tell him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
There's a reason Carmy has had so many accolades despite his young age. He has a gift in the kitchen. The moment his food touched your taste buds, your life changed. He and Sydney outdid themselves, and the way everything flowed showed how much work they put into the restaurant.
"You're exaggerating," Carmy modestly says, his arms wrapping around your waist.
"I'm really not," you shake your head, pursing your lips. Carmy can't resist placing a small peck on your red-painted lips.
"What about your famous pizza?"
"No, it might be the best pizza in Chicago, but whatever I ate today topped it," you smile at him, scrunching your nose. "Consider your chef's license reinstated,"
"Thanks," Carmy laughs breathily, "Do you mind if we walk? I feel some of the rush still."
"Lead the way, Mr. Berzatto."
Carmy grabs your hand, leading you to the streets of Chicago. It's silent momentarily as the wind cools Carmy's heated face. He places his hand along with yours into his pocket.
"Did your brother like it?" He asks, breaking the ice.
"Oh yeah. I'm officially like the best sister ever," you respond, squeezing his hand.
You had accidentally forgotten that your brother had passed the Bar exam. So, you didn't have time to get him anything in celebration. You figured dinner at a lovely new restaurant would help while you got him a proper present.
"How did you feel throughout, though? It looked intense." You often found yourself looking through the small glass window into the kitchen. They were always on the move, looking for the next thing to do.
"It didn't just look like it. I'm used to it, though," Carmy admits with a sniff. Everyone's best and worst habits shone through for those couple of hours. It's an environment he's all too familiar with, in and out of the kitchen.
"That rough," you grimace.
"It's fine. We have a lot to work on, but it's a start, and it wasn't entirely terrible," Carmy says, thinking back on tonight. Before coming out to meet you, he wrote down a couple of things to go through with Sugar and Sydney.
"Good, 'cause I hope The Bear sticks around the block," you say, bumping your shoulder with his.
You invite Carmy into your house when you arrive. He takes up your offer, holding your hand to help you balance as you take your heels off. It reminds Carmy he forgot to mention how beautiful you looked today.
He follows you to the kitchen, watching your hips sway and your dress skirt swishing. Padding to the wine fridge, you pick out a bottle of red to celebrate.
Carmy indulges in looking at your legs as you stretch up to reach for the glasses of wine up in your cabinets. His blue eyes darken as your dress hikes up, exposing your pretty thighs.
His gaze darts back up at you when you turn around to place the glasses on the kitchen counter. You hand him the wine opener so he can do the honors because you suck at taking the cork out. It's why you mainly stick to cheaper wines with twist-off caps.
"Here is to The Bear and its amazing owner," you say, lifting your glass in front of you.
"Here's to not fuckin' it up entirely," Carmy follows, making you giggle. Your wine glasses clink, and you take a drink.
Placing the glass back down, Carmy pins you against the counter, his strong hands resting on the edge of it. You look at him through your lashes, a hand coming up to his chest to feel the steady thumping of his heart.
"You look beautiful. I like the dress," Carmy murmurs. It's better late than never.
The dress you wear is a pretty shade of light blue. Simple yet dressy. The neckline gives him a good view of your cleavage and has long sleeves to compensate for the shorter length. They currently cover the goosebumps lining your skin.
"Yeah? I picked it out thinking you might," you reveal, biting your lip. The shade reminded you of his eyes.
"You were right," he whispers, cupping your jaw. As pretty as the dress is, he's sure it'll look so much better on the floor.
Carmy closes his eyes as he leans down to kiss you. He's always struggled with words, so he hopes it's enough for you to catch what he's trying to say.
You smile into the kiss, blindly leaving your glass to the side to be able to touch him. Your palm presses against his chest and taut abdomen. He hides a nice amount of muscle under his t-shirts, a pleasant surprise.
Carmy easily lifts you up to sit down on the kitchen island. He steps between your legs, never breaking the heated kiss. The hands on your waist trail down to your thighs and under your dress. Carmy's tattooed hands squeeze your ass and thighs, earning him a moan from you.
This is the farthest you've ever gotten, and you're more than ready to have all of him. Carmy knows this, which leads to his thoughts getting out of control.
He has to make a decision now. Does he allow himself to be with you, or does he remain by himself like always? Richie's, Sugar's, Cicero's, and Sydney's voices all shout at him different things. Some are in favor, and others are in opposition. 'Uh oh.'
He can't lead you on and sleep with you if he will back out tomorrow. The voices become deafening in an instant, ripping him away from your embrace. His emotions bubbled over and spilled all over the place.
"Wait, stop, I just-" Carmy breathes heavily, taking a couple of steps back from you. Carmy's hand comes up to his forehead as he attempts to organize his thoughts.
"What's wrong?" You ask worriedly. Did you do something wrong?
Carmen's thoughts spill out his mouth without making much sense as he paces in your kitchen. "I can't stop thinking about it and owe it to my team..."
"Carm?" You slide off the kitchen counter, approaching him slowly.
"-keeps saying it's a distraction," he rambles mostly to himself. His heart is pounding painfully in his chest. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he was having a heart attack.
"Hey, hey, hey. What's a distraction?" Softly, you grab onto his arms, stopping him in his tracks, trying to find his lost gaze.
"You. Whatever this is," Carmy breathes, finally meeting your eyes, which he instantly regrets as your eyes turn sad.
The watering of your eyes is unintentional, as is the knot forming in your throat. "You think I'm distracting you?" You question barely above a whisper.
His response is instant, "Fuck, no, the opposite. W-When I'm with you or-or think about you, things get clearer, and it's-it's when I feel the most focused." Carmy holds your shoulders, comforting you because he never meant to hurt you. He can't stand the sad look in your eyes.
Slowly, you begin to piece together his rambling and conclude that other people have been telling him you're a distraction. You wonder if they don't want him to be happy. The Bear is the center of Carmy's life, and before that, it was the restaurant in New York. He deserves more than this crazy job.
"Then fuck what others tell you, Carmen. You deserve to have a life outside The Bear." Maybe you're selfish because you don't want to lose him, but you hope he believes your words.
"I-I don't. I don't deserve all your attention or your affection. I'm nothing special. I don't deserve you." Carmy says, shaking his head with furrowed brows.
Weeks ago, he had no source of enjoyment. He said it himself at the support group. Now, he has you, yet he can't bear the thought of you wanting to be with him. He feels like he's tricking you into a bad deal. That's what he is, though, isn't he? An overachieving fuck up with tons upon tons of baggage.
Carmen Berzatto is an anxious person with too many problems in his life. He has a fucked up family. His mother is a mentally unstable alcoholic. His brother was addicted to painkillers and decided that shooting himself on a bridge was better than living this life. That's without mentioning all the trauma he has from his job and the terrible people he's worked with.
What good does he have to offer you?
"Yes, you do," you reassure him, placing your hands on his cheeks. The cool metal of your rings soothes him somewhat, grounding him. "You deserve all that and more, Carmy. You're so sweet and kind and hard-working. You've been through shit. You deserve something good in life. Maybe it's me, or maybe it's not, but don't close yourself off."
You're begging at this point. Whatever this relationship is, it's just starting. He's not giving himself a chance. You like Carmy so damn much. He's funny without knowing it and thoughtful, too. There are so many qualities he doesn't realize he has.
His eyes watch you as tears line them. He's silently pleading for you to convince him. To get him out of his own head and forget the expectations others have on him.
"I'm not going to force you into anything, Carm. It's your call, but I've enjoyed our last couple of months together. I know we don't know each other completely, but I want to know everything about you. I have feelings for you, so whatever you decide, I'll support it."
Being honest is all you can do at this point. You pour your heart out and hope Carmy chooses you.
You and Carmy stand in the middle of your kitchen. Face to face, reaching out towards each other. It's clear as day that you want the same thing. It's only a matter of taking the right steps now.
"I can't let you go," Carmy responds, grabbing the hand on his cheek. His thumb brushes over the back of it.
"Then don't."
Carmy's decision is made. Without another thought, he smashes his lips against yours. He grabs the back of your neck, tilting your head to meet his heated kiss.
It's more intense now that the cards are on the table. Nothing to hold him back.
Tongues clash together as your bodies seek each other out. The temperature rises when Carmy lifts you up to wrap your legs around his hips. His hands are on the back of your thighs, holding tight onto you.
"Bedroom?" He asks, breaking the kiss, a trail of saliva between the two of you.
"Down the hallway," you breathe heavily, kissing down his neck.
Carmy makes it to the bedroom, opening the door with a bang. He spots your bed, placing you in the middle with him holding himself up on top of you.
He watches as your back meets the bed and your fair fans around you like a halo. The curvature of your breasts accentuated even more from the position.
Carmy hikes your leg further up his hips as he dips down to kiss a wet trail down to the neckline of your dress. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on the rounded flesh, nipping at the skin playfully when you arch your back to push more into him.
"Carmy," you breathe, cupping his jaw to pull him back to your lips. Grinding your hips, you manage to graze against his bulge.
"Shit," Carmy shakily curses, thrusting his hips to meet your touch once more.
Curiously, your hands wander across his body. Carmy's moans in your ear make your panties wetter than they already are.
You grasp the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off. You're desperate to have him, your cunt aches for him. Your nails scratch down his firm stomach when he bites into your earlobe, softly calling your name.
"Unzip me," you pant, pushing him away and pulling your hair off to the side.
Carmy grabs the small zipper, pushing it down and exposing your pretty skin. As he slides the fabric off of you, he kisses your shoulders and back, taking note of the goosebumps on your skin.
His mind is in the present, and nothing can take it away from him. It's like a switch he managed to turn off in his brain. No more family drama, no more The Bear. It's just you...and him. Honey and Bear.
You stretch your neck to the side, giving Carmy more space to pepper kisses across the delicate skin. The dress pooling at your feet exposes your chest, and Carmy's hands come up from behind you. His fingers shyly brush up your stomach, tickling you, until they find your breasts.
He draws a moan from you as he squeezes them in his palms, pushing you back to meet his chest; turning your head to the side, you find his lips.
The kiss breaks when he slides one of his hands into your underwear, dipping his finger to feel your wetness. Your arm reaches back to dig your fist in his curls.
"You're soaked, Honey," he moans, finding your clit to tease it.
"Been waiting for so long, Carmy," you whine as your hips stutter along with the flicks of his wrist.
"I'm sorry. I'm here now," he purrs into your ear.
Carmy can hear the distinct 'shlick, shlick, shlick' of his fingers against your clit. It spurs him on as he slips a finger into you. He can't wait to have his cock inside of you, snug and warm.
"Oh my god, Carmen," you gasp when he prods another finger into your entrance. Hanging onto his arm across your chest, you roll your hips against his fingers.
"I got you," he says, digging his fingers deeper into you and curling them.
Your knees buckle as the tips of his fingers curl and hit your g spot repeatedly. If it weren't for him, you'd be on the floor. With your tummy tensing under the weight of the pleasure, you stutter out, "I'm gonna cum."
Carmy's hand is wet from your juices as he ups the ante. Just as your walls begin to squeeze around his fingers, he pulls them out to circle around your clit.
"Oh, f-fuck!" You squeal, throwing your head back onto his shoulder.
The way your clit softly twitches under the pads of his fingers fucks with Carmy. It makes his cock throb and leak into his jeans.
Untangling from his embrace, you place a breathless kiss on Carmy's lips. His slick digits dig into your hips as he prolongs it.
Blindly, you find the edge of his jeans and unbutton them. If Carmy notices, he doesn't say anything. You want to give him one more reason to stay with you.
He moans into your mouth when you grasp his length through his boxers. He's rock hard as he desperately ruts against your hand.
With your hold still on him, you push him to sit on the bed. Carmy looks up at you lustfully. You plant a single short kiss on his lips before kneeling on the floor between his legs. You leave love bites down his chest while looking up at him through your lashes.
Carmy brushes away any hair that falls on your face, his blue eyes focused solely on you. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you pull them down along with his underwear.
His length pops up from its confines, slapping against his tummy. Its tip is a pretty pink shade, with a thick length and a slight curve to it. You salivate instantly at the sight of it.
Carmy's nervous under you. It's been a long since he's been with someone else, and he's never been the most confident.
"Relax," you say teasingly, kissing around his lower tummy to calm him.
Finally, your hand wraps around his cock, lightly pumping it. Leaving sloppy kisses down his happy trail, you feel Carmy's stomach taut in anticipation.
It's been so fuckin' long.
With your eyes staring into his hungry ones, you kiss the pink head that glistens with pre, teasingly brushing it against your lips. Keeping eye contact, you lick his length from base to tip. You alternate between kissing and licking for a minute, enjoying watching Carmy squirm.
"Fuck, Honey," Carmy throws his head back at your torturous pace.
"Look at me," you sweetly say.
Taking mercy on him, you part your lips to take his length into your warm, wet mouth, bobbing your head to a steady rhythm. Prying one of Carmy's hands from the bedsheets, you place it in your hair, encouraging him to use you.
"Good girl," he moans, fisting your hair to force you to take more of his cock. You let your hands rest on his thighs, feeling the strong muscles underneath.
Carmen observes you with hooded eyes as you hollow your cheeks, sucking him expertly. He's obsessed with how your lips leave behind a tinge of red lipstick on his skin.
"Shit-Fuck me," he yells into the room when you swallow around him.
You want him to cum, but Carmy has other plans. He doesn't think he'll last long if you make him cum now, so after the stunt you pulled, he pulls you off his sensitive cock.
The sight in front of him is erotic as a string of saliva connects you to his cock. The tears lining your eyes and blushed nose add to that pretty picture.
"c'me 'ere," he says, helping you up and kissing you as he leads you back to the bed. He tugs off your wet panties, throwing them somewhere in the room.
You lay back on your pillows with Carmy slotted between your legs. It's torture having him so close and yet so far. Now that you've gotten a taste of his cock you need more.
Carmy touches the inside of your thighs, inching his way closer to your cunt. He instantly notices how fuckin' wet you are. You're dripping even more than before.
"Sucking me off, got you this wet, princess?" He asks, leaning his forehead against yours.
"Mhm, Carmy, wish you would've cum in my mouth," you admit, tilting your head up to brush your lips against his.
"You have such a dirty fuckin' mouth," he chuckles darkly.
Where did this side of you come from? You're usually so sweet and delicate. He should've known you would be a freak in bed. To think he almost let this all go.
"Carmen, please."
"Please, what?" Carmen teases, lining his cock against your opening, wetting his cock.
"Fuck me," you moan, kissing his jaw.
"'m gonna fuck you good, princess," he promises, with a shaky nod before he remembers, "Fuck! I-I don't have a condom with me."
"I should have some in my drawer," you mention breathlessly.
Carmy opens the condom in record time but is surprised when you take it from his hands and roll it down his shaft yourself. You just want an excuse to keep touching him.
With your leg hiked up, he aligns himself and slowly pushes in. You both gasp at the sensation. Carmy, for one, is trying to not bust a nut so soon because you're so tight and warm.
Meanwhile, you hold onto Carmy's back as he stretches you out. It's been so long, and your toys aren't nearly as thick as him. You breathily moan in his ear, which he takes as a good sign as he begins thrusting more forcefully and deeper.
Carmy hopes this isn't a dream, and if it is, he hopes he doesn't wake up anytime soon. He has one hand holding onto your thigh and the other holding himself up. His gold chain dangles above you as he picks his head up from its spot on your shoulder. You take the chance to tug on it, returning his attention to your lips.
"You feel so fuckin' good, princess," Carmy groans, squeezing your thigh.
"I love your cock, Carmy," you whine, feeling the drag of his cock on your walls. The pleasure is all-consuming, leaving a fuzzy feeling in your brain.
"You like when I fuck you like this?"
"Yes, yes, yes, keep going."
His hips snap hard against yours, hitting that spot each and every time. His pelvis hitting your clit. He squeezes your thigh, hips, and sides before his hand squeezes your tits, too, playing with your nipples.
Suddenly, he straightens up, pulling you down the bed to have you flushed against his pelvis. He's a sight for sore eyes that forces you to keep your eyes open.
His thrusts are more forceful like this, where he digs his fingers into the fat of your hips to pull you towards him with each snap. It makes your tits bounce, hypnotizing him.
Through your lustful gaze, he looks like a marble statue. His chest glimmers under the lowlights of your room as sweat clings to him, his chain jumping against the blushed skin of his chest, and his fucking hair falling over his pretty eyes. The set of his jaw could've been sculpted by Michaelangelo himself.
Your hands indulgently reach down to touch him in any way you can. You can only reach his stomach, where a nice pair of abs appear due to the effort.
"You like what you see?" Carmy teases. He's entirely lost on you because otherwise, he wouldn't be as cocky to say that.
"You're so handsome," you pitifully say. Your brain not computing as it should, but how can it when it's being fucked out of you?
Carmy doesn't know how to respond. It's not often he's called handsome or looked at as lustfully as you're looking at him. Thankfully, he doesn't need to say much as your eyes roll back and you squeeze your walls around him.
"Carmy, I'm so close," you pant, trying to find any part of him to hold. He offers you his hand, lacing your fingers together.
"Just a little longer, princess," Carmy groans as you clench around him. "Fuck, don't do that to me."
He glances down at the spot where you and him meet to see a ring of white on the base of his cock. He's enthralled with the way you stretch to accommodate him and the way your pink walls drag along his length when he pulls out. Fuckin' beautiful.
Putting all his knowledge to use, he thumbs your clit, making you jolt. He needs you to cum now, or he won't make it. His balls feel like they're about to burst.
"Carmy," you cry out, tightening the hold on his hand.
You teeter on the edge for only a second until you cum, waves of pleasure washing over you. Carmy curses from above you as your tightening walls choke his cock, making him cum too. He stutters his hips a couple more times, riding out his orgasm.
He leans back down again, catching your lips in a small kiss. His body slowly relaxes against yours as his head rests on your neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and perfume.
"That was good," you breathe heavily, rubbing your hands up and down your back. You're just starting to think clearly.
"Fuckin' amazing," he adds.
There's a beat of silence before you both burst out laughing.
A bubble encases you, and it can't be popped as long as you stay in your bedroom. Carmy doesn't want to leave; it's late already, and in a couple of hours, he has to get up and go to The Bear to repeat the process.
For once, he forgets about that and focuses solely on you. He has a couple of hours to spare. Sleep is overrated.
You face each other on the bed, talking in hushed whispers. Your fingers trace the '773' tattoo on his bicep like you've always wanted to do. It tickles Carmy, so he grabs your hand and kisses your palm.
"Now that I'm thinking about it. I didn't see your tattoo," he whispers to prevent disturbing the peace.
Your face warms at his words. You had forgotten about that. He's seen a lot of you in the past couple of hours. What's a bit more of skin?
"You missed my big bad tattoo?" you joke, poking his nose.
"Show me," he says with a lopsided smile.
You make it dramatic, rolling your eyes and giving him a big sigh. Sitting up on the bed, you peel the bed sheets from your body. Carmy props himself up on his elbow in anticipation.
Right there, on your left side and under the curve of your breast is a small outline of Winnie the Pooh's face. Carmy touches it, biting his lip to hold back a laugh. Unsurprisingly, it's precisely what he expected from you.
A few chuckles pass his lips as he pulls you back into his arms.
"Don't laugh. It made sense at the time," you whine, covering yourself back up.
Carmy pulls you to his chest, kissing your temple, "I'm sure it does. Pooh Bear loves his Honey," Just like he does.
"Exactly! Someone gets it!"
And he does because Carmy, aka The Bear, is quickly falling for his Honey.
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A couple of days later, Carmy is back at your house helping you prepare the famous pizza you promised him. He lets you take the lead on everything, preferring to follow your instructions rather than let his mind run wild. It's not like you'll let him do most of the work anyway; it's your recipe, and you're protective over it.
"Can you chop up the veggies?" You ask him as you lay down the dough in a pan.
"Yes, Chef," he nods, kissing your cheek as he digs through your kitchen drawers for a knife.
"Oh, I like the sound of that," you muse, shaking your shoulders as you knead the dough to spread it.
"Don't let it get to your head, Hun," Carmy smiles, slicing the vegetables expertly.
Cooking with Carmy is surprisingly easier than you thought. He's not controlling over the kitchen or judgy. He lets you do your thing in peace, following your orders no matter how strange they might be. This is your kitchen, not his.
As you spread the sauce and cheese over one of the doughs, Carmy gets a call. He wipes his hands with a rag and picks it up. You only hear his side of the conversation.
"No, I'm off tonight. I'm with my girl. Call Sugar. She should be able to help you with that. Great. Thanks."
Carmy had promised himself that he would try to balance it all better. He has his team to help each other out. The Bear is a priority, but so are you because you help him keep whatever sanity he has left.
Carmy hangs up, and when he returns to you, he notices the grin on your lips as you put the toppings he chopped on the pizza.
"What's with the smile?" Carmy stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he props his head on your shoulder. Your hair tickles his nose, smelling the notes of coconut of your shampoo he digs his head farther into it.
"I'm your girl?" You ask, the smile still present on your face. He'd missed your initial reaction when you heard him call you 'my girl.' You almost dropped the container of pepperoni that was in your hands. It's a shock cause he never asked you to be his girl.
Carmy pauses and tenses up against you. "Uh, yes? Hold up. Turn around," he orders, as he places his hand on your hips to turn your body around.
"Yes, chef," you respond cheekily, your arms around his neck, careful not to touch his sweater with your messy hands.
"Aren't you my girl?" He frowns, rubbing a thumb over your hips.
"I could be, but I don't remember you asking," you pretend to think.
Carmy never directly asked you to be his girlfriend, and you never asked him to be your boyfriend. You might as well be a couple since you've been dating long enough. You decide to seize the opportunity now to get it out of him. Having a proper anniversary day would be nice because you hope this lasts.
"I see, my mistake," Carmy nods, catching your vibe, "Honey…"
"Yes, Carmy?" You blink innocently at him.
"Would you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?" He finally asks.
You could joke around but decided against it cause the moment is perfect, "I'd love to," you nod, giving him a small kiss.
When the pizza is cooked, you bring it over to the dining table. Serving Carmy a pretty slice. Excitedly, you wait for him to bite into it and taste it.
"What do you think?" You ask expectantly.
"You were right. Best pizza in Chicago," Carmy agrees with an unbelievable laugh. He's got a lot to learn from you. It's the truth, or maybe he's blinded by his feelings. Only time will tell where you and Carmy will end up.
The End?
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thank you guys for pulling through and reading! i know it's a slow burn but i hope you liked it! i certainly enjoyed writing it even though it took me like 4 months.
if you liked it, i would appreciate you liking it, commenting or reblogging. if you have some feedback feel free to send it my way too. i wanna get better at this whole writing thing!
thank you! bye xx
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isekyaaa · 1 year
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I tell myself I wanna make a Thoma x reader fic, when in reality, I wanna make a reader fic with side Thoma in a way that would utterly fail the Bedchel test.
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risestarkiss · 4 months
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The “Ba” in “Baja”
Rise Ramblings #628
Mikey and Leo. Baja Blast. The Tide Pod Duo. Although this duo has limited dedicated screen time, they are an absolute joy to watch. First and foremost, you can’t help but notice how Leo does nothing but try to protect the little bean.
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He’ll bend over backwards just to keep his baby brother safe.
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Leo will also offer emotional support in very dire times.
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It’s just so nice to see them together. Plus, you can tell that Leo loves Mikey to pieces.
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Even when Leo’s being annoying.
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All of these traits are expected from big brother Leo. However, it’s the other side of this relationship that I find intriguing.
Let’s discuss Mikey and how he interacts with the blue one.
I’ve summarized my thoughts about Mikey’s half of their relationship into two parts: “Emulate” & “Outdo.”
As the youngest of the four, it’s natural for Michelangelo to look up to his older brothers. Yet, throughout the show, I believe that Mikey seems to emulate Leo the most.
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This thought leads directly into the “Outdo” portion of my hypothesis.
I've noticed that a competitive streak emerges in Mikey when Leo is in the picture, a streak that I cannot say I’ve seen him express with any of his other brothers, April, or even their rivals. It’s unique just to Leo.
It’s almost as if there is some driving force within Mikey that wants to prove something to Leon.
When it comes to Leo, Mikey is suddenly determined to see who’s the strongest, best, or fastest between them.
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(I compiled all of the Air Hockey scenes from the episode, “Mrs. Cuddles”)
The most compelling aspect of their relationship is that this competitive streak seems to be one-sided, at least initially. It's almost as if Leo feels like he doesn't have to prove anything to Angelo.
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Eventually, though, Mikey goads Leo into competing with him, and Leo gives in if not but to defend his title, satiate Orange, and give his antagonizer what he’s looking for. (It’s a “you mess with the bull, you get the horns” type of thing.)
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Why does this dynamic exist? Who’s to say. But I believe that the dissonance between these two comes from Leo seeing their relationship as “Protector – Protectee” while Mikey sees Leo as a rival, or more specifically, Leo is the goalpost that Michelangelo has tasked himself with surpassing.
In my opinion, the concept of Mikey seeing Leo’s accomplishments as something he needs to “Emulate” & “Outdo” is a compliment in it’s simplest form. Mikey thinks that Leo is so great and awesome that he wants to be just as awesome, and even better than the brother he respects and looks up to so much.
…Or maybe Mikey just wants to knock Leo down a peg or two.
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I can’t say that I’d blame him.
Also, do you know why Mikey is the “Ba” in “Baja?”
Because Leo is the "Jajajajajajaja" *laughs in Spanish*
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All right. I’m done.
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codtrashsammy · 1 month
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Cute Meet?
Started as a kinda character study and idk what happened, i'ma be honest. I haven't written anything with length in awhile, so feel free to leave cc and let me know what you think <3 Just a cute meet kinda scenario, reader is an anxious lil thing and Simon 'Ghost' Riley is obsessed upon first glance. Love? No, not yet.. but obsessed, yes. Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You Warnings: No warnings, no use of y/n tho Enjoy :))
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Ghost is the keeper. Ghost is stoic, cold, even apathetic. Ghost can kill a whole platoon without batting an eye, can be covered in the blood of his enemies and be entirely uncaring to watch it flow down the drain once he has enough time to scrub the caked blood from where it seeped through his clothes. He is in charge, able to control his emotions effortlessly, able to lead. He is everything he needs to be. And then there’s Simon. Ghost is the keeper. Simon is the man beneath the mask who needs one. Simon is more akin to a stray dog than a human at times. Face hidden from the world, yet teeth always barred and ready to bite. Hidden behind a mask, a carefully crafted mask that is Ghost. A man with more scars than flesh, a man with more trauma than peace, a man who simply longs for the normalcy of life without a way to reach it. And then came you.
Ghost couldn’t care less for you. The mask is on as he’s on leave, shopping in a grocery store to get something to eat on while he stays in that damned motel for the next couple of weeks before flying out once more. The mask stays in place, a protection, a show the keeper is in charge. You don’t mean to run into him, you’re definitely not the type to go looking for trouble- you’ve had enough of that in your life, and you’re just starting to get your shit together for the nth time. But as you’re both leaving, you stumble, bumping right into him and leaving a couple of his poor bags strewn about on the sidewalk rather than carefully held within each hand. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Ghost grumbles with a sigh, clearly not pleased by the circumstances while watching a can of beans he had bought simply roll off of the sidewalk area and into the road- promptly ran over by a vehicle looking to park. No beans and toast now, british man. “I am so sorry-” You immediately apologize, the sheepish and embarrassed look on your face obvious as you dust yourself off and try to begin gathering the mess that you had caused. Ghost is annoyed at you. Just one look and he’s annoyed. But Simon? Simon is enchanted. The sweet, sheepish smile on your face, the way you scramble to help, the heat to your cheeks in your embarrassment as you scatter around trying to fix the situation. The way your hair falls and how you’re clearly nervous, but you still act anyway. You don’t care of how he looks- all brooding and intimidating with his hoodie over his head and the black medical mask over the lower half of his face. You couldn’t care less of that- you simply want to make things better. Simon notices that though. Simon remains frozen for a few moments, hidden interest in his eyes as he watches you scramble about, resorting your things just to have an extra couple of bags for his things. And you just hand things back over to him, the sheepish smile still on your face, the embarrassment clear- but gods, you look like such a sweet lil thing, lookin’ at him like he’s a human, a person. “‘S fine,” Simon eventually spits out, taking the bags from your hands and glancing once more at the beans staining the roadway now, before turning to focus his attention back on you. He could let you leave now. He could, it’d be so easy. He could leave it at that and walk away, probably never hear or see from you again. I mean, hell, he’s only known you for all of 5 minutes, and it’s because you’re a clumsy little shit who fucked up his shopping. It’d be so easy so why does it feel so hard. “D’ya always ‘ave to make such an impression?” Simon quips out, readjusting the bags comfortably in his grip. You can’t even pretend not to notice his accent- it’s unusual for where you live, you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything like it outside of the media you’ve consumed. It’s pleasant, rings around in the ears for a bit. You finally meet his eyes, and gods, they are gorgeous. Deep, rich, brown- like chocolate with golden flecks scattered. Especially in the sunlight- like they are now- pools of liquid gold swimming about a chocolate river. “Ah- No- Um-” You struggle to find the right words, now your cheeks are warmer, and it’s less from embarrassment and more from the pretty eyed stranger you just fucking throttled on accident. But at least he doesn’t seem angry, so there’s always that. “I’m so sorry,” You settle on apologizing again, one of your hands moving to nervously run through your hair, pushing some strands out of your face. “‘S fine. Really.” Simon says with a slight nod, and you can feel the burn of his eyes as they trail over you. You can’t decide if he means it or not, though, he sounds oddly monotone for such simple words. “Still, I feel bad, I uh- I’m kinda clumsy at best,” You blurt out, sheepish smile on your face despite its softness as you glance away from him before looking back once more, “I uh- just wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going- a real bad habit of mine, honestly- which is surprising cause you’re kinda huge and hard to miss-” 
What the fuck did you just say?!Your cheeks heat up further, hands moving to gesture with your words now. You’re rambling, you know you are, but god did not give you the ability to shut the fuck up. “N-Not that that’s a bad thing! You’re uh- very well-built!” what the fuck you’re making it worse- “I-I mean- You uh- You have lots of muscle a-and that’s a good thing! And you have pretty eyes- always a bonus!” Simon’s eyebrow slowly lifts, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Simon’s been called a lot of things in his life- but he’s realizing at this moment that no one has ever called his eyes pretty. They’re brown. He can recall Johnny referring to them as ‘shit brown’ more often than not.  And you just look so fucking adorable- continuing to ramble, but he’s hardly paying attention to the words now, watching your cheeks get darker, your hands gesturing with your words, nervously shifting on your feet as you try to ‘save’ the situation. Such a precious lil thing, too pure for this world.
Simon was enchanted at first glance.
Ghost decides he could be, too.
A pretty thing like you? In this world? Oh, love, that’s just not safe. You’re a lil bundle of nervous, clearly. How’d ya make it this far? Who made ya like this? Unsure, rambling, nervous? Ghost wants to learn you. Wants to figure out what events molded you into this cute lil thing. You clearly need someone- he won’t judge, Simon needs him, too.
Ghost decides he wants to know you. Simon has made that thought known.
“You know what? I’m gonna shut up!” You finally say, voice a higher pitch and the heat being felt in the tips of your ears at this point as you take a step away from the masked man, who you know you’ve done ruined the chance to know with your inability to shut the fuck up.
“Tell me yer name before ya do,” Simon says, voice smooth like it’s the easiest and most casual thing in the world.
He’s so… quiet. He let you ramble and make an absolute fool of yourself- but now he’s actually wanting to know your name?
After you manage to knock yourself out of your stupor, you finally offer your name to him, cheeks finally cooling down a bit. Only to heat back up once he repeats your name in that voice of his, all low and gruff- says it differently than anything you’ve ever heard before- like it’s something important, something that matters.
“Simon,” He supplies, adjusting his bags in one grip as he offers a hand to you.
Simon and Ghost are two very different people who share this skin suit.
But they both decide you’re theirs.
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igotanidea · 9 days
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The little bean: Anthony Bridgerton x pregnant!wife!reader
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A/N: So..... After my "Too much" series I've been asked to do something with Antony and pregnancy trope. And since 1) I got baby fever and 2) Bridgertons are back, there is no better time than now.
***
“Y/N, my love, what are you doing?”
“I’m holding a book…?”
Ever since Y/N found out she was pregnant with the heir (which she would rather address as her precious little baby, instead of giving him titles before he or she was even born) Anthony entered right into an overprotective mood. If anything he would just keep her home, away from any prying eyes, that – in his opinion – might somehow take a look inside, at his baby and perhaps, see the little one before it came into the view of a proud viscount father.
Y/N could barely walk around the Bridgerton household, let alone the garden, without her husband chasing after her with a very concerned look, ready to carry her wherever she wished, just so that her feet wouldn’t touch the ground.
There were so many dangers on the way after all.
Wild animals. (i.e. bees, dogs and strays cats)
Speeding carriages.
Stones on which she might trip and fall.
Too much sun.
Too little sun.
And worst of all-
Members of the ton.
It was merely the first trimester and viscountess was torn between calming Anthony down (tactfully avoiding the information that the next months will be much more challenging) or just rushing away to her mother-in-law (yet, again) to seek aid in keeping him in check.
And just when she thought the oldest Bridgerton could not get any more obsessive, he took the lecture she was reading out of her hands.
“My dear, you cannot carry such weights. It’s straining and I am to protect you from threats.”
“It’s a book…” she frowned a little, but not without a hint of amusement in her voice
“It’s heavy.”  
“It's a 200 page novel…”
“It’s heavy.” Anthony’s voice was gentle, but firm. Both demanding and pleading.
“Anthony…”
“Y/N.”
“I can hold my own book.”
“We got servants for that.  In fact – let me call upon your maid and –“ he started walking towards the door in sheer purpose to liberate his dearest wife from the unnecessary burden.
Nonetheless his dearest wife had quite a different plan, reaching to grab his hand and stopping him in his tracks.
“My love. Please, come. Let us sit.” She guided him to the ottoman, still keeping the soft touch that was grounding to him.
Much to her surprise Anthony rushed to the furniture first, fixing pillows and blankets so Y/N could sit comfortably. And apparently that word, in his language, meant sitting half a meter in the air, covered from head to toe, regardless of the perfect spring weather outside.
“Here. Perfect.” He flashed a perfect smile, content with the spot he made for her.
“Anthony…”
“Yes, my love?” as he spun around meeting with her desperate look, the smile slowly disappeared from his face. “Y/N? Are you not feeling well?” Anthony grabbed both her hands in his, searching her face for any symptoms of malaise, dizziness, nausea. “Do you need some water? Or-“
“No, no, Anthony, please just listen to me for a moment-“
“Perhaps I should call upon Daphne, she already had a child of her own and she would be of help. Or maybe my mother could-“
“Anthony!” she laughed whole-heartedly at his  feverishness “I am not going to give birth in the fourth month of pregnancy! Please just calm down.”
“Just say a word and I’ll call for a medic immediately. Do not fret my dearest, I will take the best care of you. I swear on my life that-“
At that moment Y/N used the most effective way to stop his blubbering in the form of putting his hand on her slightly rounded belly in which their baby was healthily growing.
“Shh.” She whispered, putting her own palm on top of Anthony's, calming him down, letting him caress the stomach in hope to make him calm down. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. I don’t need medic. Nor your mother. And certainly not your younger sister. I am feeling good and the only thing that concerns me is my husband's distress over nothing.”
“Nothing? You are carrying our baby!”
“And our baby needs his father to stop fretting.”
“But-“
“Here!” her eyes grew wide as she guided his hand to another place “did you feel it?”
“Was it--?” Anthony’s face expression mirrored the one of his wife.
“It kicked…” she whispered as their gazes met and for a second that extended into eternity, they just kept looking into each other’s eyes expressing so many feelings.
And then, almost as if in a dream, Anthony fell to his knees in front of Y/N, pressing his head into her belly.
“Our baby.” He whispered, kissing her body through the material of the dress. “our little baby.” He wrapped arms around her midsection with his ear pressed to the home of the child, almost hoping to hear him or her inside.
“Our baby…” she repeated with tears in her eyes. Despite knowing and obviously – feeling the imminent arrival of the new family member it was the first time she actually felt and knew. And it was beautiful. Her little bean was really there. Growing and waiting for the right moment to appear in the world, landing right into the waiting, safe arms of loving mother and father.      
“Do you think it can hear us?” Anthony pressed one ear to her stomach, his entire face lighting up at the possibility.
“Depends.” She chuckled
“On what?” his eyes travelled up to meet hers.
“If I say yes, will that mean you start talking to my insides?”
Anthony smirked.
“I will do that, even if you say no.”
“Then why the question?”
“Testing your knowledge.”
“I am not a doctor, Anthony. My expertise in the area might be a little limited.”
“Very well. Then give me an answer as a mother, not a medic.”
“Yes. Yes, I think it can hear us.” She cupped Anthony’s cheek in the affectionate gesture. There was something utterly heartening in seeing him like this. Holding her (and/or the baby) like she was the most precious thing in the world, needing the assurance that his child was already reaching to him.
That it could hear him, even if it wasn’t even born yet. Hoping for the love of the Lord that it was truly happening. That in a few months, that were going to pass by with extraordinary speed, the little one, a girl or a boy, would take a corporal form. That the viscount would not only be a noble and a husband but would also take on the new role – a father. A protector. Caregiver. A teacher, guardian and a guide. That somehow – his life would be complete. He’ll have his own little family. Something that was nearly impossible to him a few years prior.
And now-
“Anthony…” Y/N whispered, wiping a single tear from his eyes. “Sweetheart, what is wrong?”
“Nothing. Nothing is wrong, love. It’s all perfect.”
“Then why are you-?”
“I’m not.” He cleared his throat and gathered himself.
“Of course not.” She laughed softly brushing his hair. “But if you’d want to actually talk to the baby, that would stay in this little circle.”
Anthony smiled lovingly, grateful for having his miracle of a woman in his life. She understood him so perfectly well.
“We’re waiting for you, little one.” He whispered against her attire, with a little muffled voice, be it from emotions or closeness of his lips on her body. “You are already loved by two people, with more to come.”
‘You can say it Anthony…” Y/N whispered, knowing what he was holding back.
“I love you my little one.” The viscount whispered with the softest voice, caressing the place where the kick was previously felt.
And they stood like that for a while longer, enjoying that moment of joy and thinking about the future that looked quite bright. 
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vase-of-lilies · 6 months
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❀  Pairing: Medusa!Wanda Maximoff x Blind!Reader (F)
❀ Warnings: Reader is “sacrificed” and “saved by Wanda”, so much fluff, really quick acceptance, sexual content, Wandas snakes have their own personalities and love to mess with the reader when she is just snuggling with Wanda or when she is just chilling (lol), fingering, oral (r receiving), Wanda just flicking our bean while out on the beach, the snakes calm reader down IDK OK, 
❀Disclaimer The pictures only represent aesthetic and themes. There is no certain skin color, body type, ethnicity, or description other than Y/n and “you”. Credit to who made the pictures in the banner as well.
❀ Authors Note: I have started reading the story called “Stone Blind” and it is a re-telling of the story of Medusa and telling the “true” story of how she became the “monster” she turned into. I feel like that even though Medusa was assaulted, she deserves love and I think that having a blind reader would help her feel like she was loved based off of her personality, not of fear. This story is a little lighter than the others, but it still is dark with hints of kidnapping and captivity. I will also be keeping Stheno and Euryale, Medusa’s original sisters, just for the organization of plot purposes! There are quotes in here that are loosely based on “Stone Blind”! All credit to Natalie Haynes for the style of Medusa I use!!
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It’s a cooler summer day in Greece, rain feeding the dry crops with much-needed food. The drought that Zeus brought to the mainland was devastating, causing crops, veggies, and fruits to cripple before they were ripe enough to pick. This was a punishment for the greediness the people were showing, thriving a little too much to the god's liking.  
It wasn’t uncommon for the god to be selfish like this. He would often flood the fields with too much water, making them die equally fast. Your village was one of the many affected by this cruel situation. You later learn that Zeus had a bad day and wanted to take it out on someone other than his poor wife in the clouds. 
These games he played were difficult to navigate, as the world through your eyes was sightless. Just like tinnitus in the ear, your eyes seemed to feel the same way; clouded and blurred figures with every movement of your eyes. You were born this way, and no amount of begging could have changed what you encounter daily. 
However, with this blindness, your other senses are heightened. Your hearing was better than most, and you did everything possible to protect it as it was your most powerful sense. Every chirp of a cricket, creek of a door, a voice outside your home. You could hear it all. 
It was a blessing and a curse at the same time. “She won’t even know we are gone, she can’t see us. Out of sight, out of mind.” This was the last thing you heard from your parents before they abandoned you. Your heart broke when you heard those words, never feeling such betrayal from someone you loved before. It was that moment that caused you to shut off your emotions to other people. 
At the age you are now, it was difficult to find really anyone who would accept your blindness, and love who you were on the inside. What never occurred to you was the fact that you needed someone who felt the same. Someone who felt an insecurity that needed to be validated by someone similar. 
This was exactly how Wanda felt. She was the youngest of the Gorgon Sisters, born a mortal human but was punished by a goddess out of jealousy and spite. 
The goddess Athena was spoiled by her father, getting everything and anything she wanted with a snap of her fingers. When she was betrayed, she didn’t punish Poseidon, who in fact was the person who caused this problem in the first place. She punished the poor girl who was hurt by Poseidon, all because the situation unfolded in Athena's own temple. 
Why did she choose Wanda to punish? Because she was mortal and did not have to suffer through centuries of war and turmoil. The night she went to Wanda's cave, her sisters were out hunting; gathering for their mortal sister so she could eat. Athena took this opportunity of Wanda's solitude to torture her, ripping every piece of hair from her head, forcing red, writhing snakes to take their place. 
She was in pain for days, her scalp burning with every movement the snakes made. Her nights were spent screaming and sobbing into the darkness of her cave, her sisters trying everything they could to soothe her. They were only met with silence until the day she finally spoke up about who hurt her. Her sisters were angry with the sea god for even looking at their loved one. They had their own way of punishing Poseidon, but of course, the god couldn't care less. He was powerful and could do whatever he wanted, just like his niece Athena. 
Some could say that Athena took pity on Wanda for what her uncle did. And to keep the other gods away from her, the powerful goddess turned the girl's beautiful locks of hair into a head of writhing snakes. This was for protection from her uncle and any of the other greedy and overpowered gods that rule the world. 
No matter the tale that one has heard, what is true is that Wanda is now considered a monster just like her sisters. But who determined what a monster was? Was a monster someone merely different from you? Or was it men that made everything monsters? Men seem to be afraid of powerful women, or women with sharp teeth, wings, and tusks. 
Monsters are misunderstood. 
The two sisters are some of the most gentle creatures to adorn the earth's surface. Sure, they hunt animals and look a little scary, but they keep a flock of sheep, learn how to cook bread, and take care of their mortal baby sister. 
The first time they met Wanda, Stheno’s talon gently brushed along her cheek, wiping away a tear that had fallen when she arrived on the sand. Now that Wanda is a grown woman, her immortal sisters adapted to her needs. She spent most of her time on the beach, but now spends her time in the depths of her cave, too scared to come out of fear that Poseidon will hurt her again. 
Stheno and Euryale vowed to never let anyone hurt their beloved sister ever again. They hoped that one day she would find a lover who would be willing to love her for who she was. Someone she could grow old with, and love with every fiber (and snake) of her being. 
The snakes… they each have their own personality. There are thirteen (13) in all. Wanda or anyone for that matter has named them or really knows the difference. However, the two snakes at the very front of her head, close to her temples are easily told apart. On the left, there is Fang. She has a visible attitude and can hardly believe her fate was to be on top of someone's head. On the right, there is Lucky. Just like her name, Wanda could tell that she felt lucky to be a part of her host. Fang was sassy and defiant while Lucky was just happy to be there. 
Though the rest of the snakes are just as present as Fang and Lucky, they each have a mind of their own and tend to make Wanda laugh despite her fate. Their hisses of protest when Stheno says that it’s getting dark and to come back into the cave, or when Euryale asks Wanda for her help with something while the snakes are sunbathing. My god, do they love the sun!
You did too. It was for a much different reason than what a seeing person might believe. You loved the sun for its two main purposes; to light up and warm the earth. Now, that may be what everyone thinks of Helios, the god of the sun. But to you, it meant so much more. With no sight and just a blurry field of vision in front of you, the sun kept the colorful blobs of people and obstacles slightly more viewable. 
Selene, the moon goddess was not your favorite. Although she lights the night, most occasions it is only a sliver of light. Once a month do you really get to enjoy the darkness with some light guiding you from place to place. On the nights of the new moon, you stayed in the comfort of your home for the night. Although you could not see the phase of which Selene was in, you knew the darker the next night got, the closer it was to a new moon. 
On one particular evening, you were unaware that it was a black moon. Meaning it was the second new moon in a months time. It was getting dark, but you had the thought that it would be bright enough to make it home, only to make a wrong turn when a man pushed past you. 
Villagers helped you put your fallen fruit back into your basket, and a kind woman gives gently places your bamboo guiding stick back in your hand. You thank them, but you missed the opportunity to ask them the direction of your home. Physically you knew where you were, but again, it was getting dark and you were all turned around. 
Hoping for the best in a difficult situation, you chose to turn right. Usually at this cross road, you would be facing North and your home was East, so you would turn right. Unfortunately, this rocky path led you right to Poseidons’ sea itself. And the god was ever so pleased to have a clueless woman enter his domain. Coming up from the oceans depths, he approaches you in your wandering state.
“Can I help you find your way, miss?” The god asks. Your head follows the voice to the right, unaware of who asked the question. 
“I may be a bit lost,” You say with honesty. “I was on my way back from the market, but stumbled and lost the direction I was going.” Explaining yourself to the stranger felt like the logical explanation, but Poseidon used your confusion against you. 
“No, I think you’re in the right place…” He smirks, gently putting his hand on your shoulder. Your head snaps to the sudden touch, clutching your baskets handle a little tighter. Poseidon isn’t aware of your blindness, all you are to him is a means to an end. He is in debt to his father, Kronos. 
Poseidon knew the moment you stepped foot on to his cool sand, he knew you were perfect. As a god, you think he would know everything about you, but you were very wrong. 
“Here, let me help you find your way back to the road.” He says, removing one of your hands from the basket handle. You allow him, but you are confused as you continue to feel sand beneath the sole of your sandals. The moon was not there, and you were helpless. 
Kronos, the god of time, was betrayed by his son. Poseidon decided to ask his father for time. All the time in the world, when he got ahold of Wanda. He wanted to spend every waking minute with her, fucking her and holding her when she is begging to see her sisters again only to drag her under the oceans surface when he is bored of her. Poseidon gets bored very easily, but Wanda’s pussy was different. Although his father did not question what he was going to use this time for, automatically a debt was owed. 
Poseidon decided against using this time with Wanda, as her whining and begging becoming increasingly annoying. So he sent her back to her sisters to live in peace. That is, until Athena came along of course. He was adamant that he shouldn’t have to pay his father back since he did not use the time. Kronos lended him this time willingly without question. He was determined to get it back. And Poseidon had his sacrifice right in front of him. 
His hand pulled you in the direction of a large rock by the edge of the water, a place that Poseidon remembers greatly. Andromeda was supposed to be sacrificed there, but Perseus swept in and came to the rescue, stopping a large sea monster with the help of Athenas spear and Artemis’s winged sandals. It was a shame to see such a beautiful sea creature leave the world in such a damaging way. 
“Here we are, back on the road again, just a little further,” Poseidon says, his other hand taking the basket from your hands. 
“Hey w-wait, I need tha-” You are cut off by a calloused hand clasping over your mouth. 
“Just stay still and it will all be over soon.” The god whispered in your ear. Your breaths were staggered as you heard his words, confused by what he meant. Soon his hands were untying the soft rope from around your waist holding your silk toga to your body. The fabric fell to the ground, leaving you only in your under garments. You whimpered, trying to understand what is happening.
“Please, whoever you are, let me go. H-have my fruit, t-take the gold!” You fought hard against the gods rock hard torso, fearing for your life. 
“I told you to be still!” He shouted. His arms wrapped your body and he threw you over his shoulder. Damp hair rubbed against your skin as you struggled and a chiseled arm wraps their way around your legs to keep them still. A hard hit to your barely covered ass made you yelp, and you tried scratching at Poseidons back. The immortal couldn’t feel pain, so he took no thought of it. 
With little to no trouble at all, he put your squirming body on the sand and held his hand over your neck to keep your back against the rock. The power he had was nothing compared to your mortal strength. So he held you still by straddling your legs, while his hands expertly tie your wrists together with the very rope keeping your toga on. 
“Please sir, please I’ll do anything.” You whimper as tears fall from your grey eyes. The god ignores you and takes the chain set under the rock by Zeus himself and begins to connect your now-restrained wrists to it. You were trapped, and you could only pray to the gods, any of them, to show you any mercy. 
“There. No need to cry, little one. You are a divine sacrifice for a god that has a lot of power. Don’t struggle, it makes him angry.” Poseidon said, and he tightened his already perfected knot in the rope. 
He stepped back from your crying form and looked up to the sky. “I come to give the debt I owe! Isn’t she enough, father??” He shouts his arms opening. The sea is uneasy, his emotions controlling the tide. 
Thunder claps and you know Zeus is present. “No, brother. Not now.” Poseidon growls, the intention of this sacrifice going to his father, not his sibling. 
The rain soaks into your skin and clothes causing the thin band holding your breasts and underwear to become sheer and see-through. Poseidon took notice of your exposed body and paused his message to his father. Making his way to you, he smirks as he sees you trying to move your wrists from the sturdy, iron padlock connecting them to the chain. “It’s no use, ομορφιά μου (my beauty).” 
You don’t look at him, your futile attempts at escaping only end in failure. He growls when you ignore him, not acknowledging his clear compliment at calling you “his beauty.” Approaching you, he knelt down in front of you and roughly pulled you to face him by your chin. The moment his eyes met yours, an epiphany hit. 
“You’re blind?” He asks, pulling his hand away from you like you were a leper. He knew his father would never take such a broken sacrifice. “Disgusting.” He spat while he stood up. He begins to walk away, your ears barely picking up on his steps thumping in the sand. 
“W-wait! Wait please let me go! I wan-want to go home!” You shout his way, but the god only ignores you walking into the sea and leaving you exposed for anything. 
In a sense, you were grateful that you were no longer Poseidon's sacrifice. But you were still stuck in your current situation, so you went to your last resort. You started to call out, shout, scream, to anyone who you thought could save you. An hour had passed and your voice was nothing more than a croak. 
You were starting to believe that you were going to die on a God's beach with no one in sight to help you. However, someone was watching from afar. A woman who fears to look at you without the knowledge that you are blind. But she was in the same position as you, and she wanted to help you. Yet, she hasn’t had anyone to keep for herself. 
So she considered. Would she be just as evil and selfish as Poseidon for taking you? Could she make you believe that she rescued you and instead not let you leave her cave? Stheno and Euryale would most likely not approve, Wandas sisters love her and only want what is best for her. The snakes on Wanda’s head hissed in question, Lucky gently rubbing her scaly head against her cheek. 
“I know, I really shouldn’t. But she was a victim of that retched god too. Maybe I can finally feel in control… when I am in control of her? I- I don’t want to turn her to stone…” Fang hissed in response, her tongue tickling her opposite cheek. “I could blind fold her, and you’re right, she needs someone to take care of her. She looks like she’s about to die right there. That bastard…” Wanda says to Fang, starting her journey from the beach's small cliffs to the rock you were restrained to. 
Before she makes it to you, she gathers the fruit that fell when the god took you and sets them back into the basket. Then she reaches for your discarded dress and picks it up as well. Finally, she reaches you. Her heart breaks when she sees you. Your wrists are rubbed raw, blood soaking the brown rope surrounding them, tears are stained on your cheeks and your eyes are closed. 
Wanda rips a piece of cloth from your toga and kneels down next to you. Peacefully asleep, you are still as she ties the cloth around your eyes. With the blindfold on, Wanda leans her head down to the rope encasing your injured wrists, one of her snakes near the back of her head — the one with much sharper fangs — begins to chew on the rope. The rope broke free and your arms fell loosely to your lap. 
The smallest whimper left your mouth, exhaustion keeping you fast asleep. Wanda admired your stoic look, your exposed chest moving up and down slowly with each breath you took. She sighs softly, knowing how it felt to be left exposed, for anyone to come across. Her empathy grew as she looked at you, your nipples were seen through the sheer fabric of your strophic (greek bra) and the wind nipped at your skin causing goosebumps to pebble. 
Shaking her head and mentally cursing the sea god, she wraps the fabric of your dress around your body; Adding a length of seaweed to keep it secured to your waist. Oh so gently, she lifted your unconscious body into her arms smiling as your head rolled against her chest. Lucky and Fang were eager to meet you, both of their heads trying to get as close to you as possible. 
“Hey, you’ll get to meet her when we go back home, ok? I promise,” Wanda chuckles, and the snakes pull their bodies back to their place closer to her scalp. 
The journey to her cave was not very far, just around the bend of the cliff. North of where you were destined to be sacrificed. She took care with each step taken, making sure that her prized possession was still asleep, and comfortable. Lucky and Fang looked over you as you slept, keeping their distance until Wanda let them say hi. As scary as they may look, they are all puppies at heart.
Chills crept up your spine as Wanda entered the cave with you in her arms, and goosebumps began to pebble on your skin. She takes notice, gently laying you down on her straw bed in the dim fire-lit cave. Your head lulled to the side, causing Wanda to jump slightly, forgetting that you had the blindfold on to protect you. 
Stheno and Euryale were surprised to see another woman besides their little sister inhabiting the cave, and they curiously looked over your unconscious body. 
“Wanda? Who is this sleeping woman?” Said Stheno, creeping quietly behind her sister. 
“I don’t know her name yet, but I saved her from an untimely death. Poseidon had gotten ahold of her, hoping for a sacrifice, but was unsatisfied by her,” Wanda explains, sighing as she drags her knuckle down your lightly textured cheek. “That bastard is nothing but trouble.” She sighs, trying her hardest to not look at her sisters, understanding that even immortals can turn to stone with one gaze at her eyes.
Euryale eyed Stheno, worried that Wanda may be turning into someone she swore to never become. 
“Did she come willingly?” Euryale asked, settling her wings against her feathered back. 
“She hasn’t woken up yet, but I am sure that she will understand, right?” Wanda was anxious about your awakening, your acceptance of your stay was appreciated and not feared. “Should we wait outside until she wakes up?” 
Wanda's older sisters nod their heads. “I don’t want to frighten her when she opens her eyes. I believe we would be some of the last monsters she would want to see.” Of course, they don’t know that you are unable to see…
“I will go tend to the sheep,” Euryale said.
“I will go set up a fire on the beach and start cooking your meal,” Stheno said, both creatures leaving to do their tasks. 
“And I will go help, and wait for my sleeping beauty to awaken.” Wanda says with a smile, softly swiping her thumb over your cheek. 
~~~~~~~
The same as every other day, your eyes open to a blur of shapes and colors. However, this time is different- you are met with complete darkness, the atmosphere is cold and almost damp, and the scent of salt water fills your nose. There is cloth over your eyes, something you don’t take mind to. Trying to find where you are, you feel around your surroundings to retrieve your guiding stick only to be met with sand, small rocks, and straw. These sensations were familiar but not something you would regularly wake up to. 
Standing up, you struggle to navigate through the cave you concluded you were in, reaching for a wall or something to stabilize yourself with. You let out a sigh of relief as your hand reached a rocky wall. Now you were stuck, you didn’t know what way led out of the cave. 
“Hello?” You call out, your voice echoing through the cave. Your head turns in the opposite direction as you hear padded footprints against the sand. Your worries heightened, unknowing of the person approaching you. 
“Hello dear, I’m so glad to see that you are awake, how do you feel?” The smooth voice of a woman is heard. Gentle, yet assertive. Confusion melts across your face and you take an unintentional step back, causing a slight hissing from the woman in front of you. 
“I- I feel fine, wh- where am I?” You ask, distressed and scared. Being unable to see every day was fine with you, as long as you knew where you were. That fear skyrocketed the moment you woke up in a new environment. 
“No need to worry about that, sweetheart. Come with me,” The woman said, and with a soft hand, she grabbed yours. The unexpected contact started you, but you followed nonetheless. 
“Who are you, a-and why am I here? I want to go back to my home, please.” Cracks in your voice made Wanda turn to face you, only to be met with tears rolling down your cheeks. 
She sighs and stops just at the entrance of the cave. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry, you are safe here now. That god won’t get you here.” 
“God?” You don’t remember what had happened the night before, your memory fogging up after falling at the crossroads. “What do you mean, “safe now?” I just want to get back home, the fruit was so expensive.” 
Pulling away from Wanda, you grab at the cloth around your eyes. The fabric falls from your head and hits the ground faster than Wanda can stop you. Panic fills her system, and she quickly turns her head away from you, her head of red snakes following. 
A soft red tendril of energy hits your temple, and you fall unconscious. Before your body hits the ground, Wanda turns and catches you just in time. Guilt takes over her as she looks at your sleeping form, Lucky and Fang are equally as concerned for you as their host. 
The scaled head of Fang nudges against Wanda's cheek, a small hiss emitting from her mouth. “Yes, she’s ok. She was nervous and wanted to see where she was, I know that. Im just going to put her by the fire until she wakes up.” She responds to Fang, her little eyes rolling as she gently taps his head from getting any closer to you. 
As gently as she can, Wanda lifts you into her arms and brings you out to the fire that Stheno lit. She sits down and lays your head in her lap, softly brushing a few grains of sand from your cheek. A groan emits from your closed lips and you subconsciously roll your body closer to the warm fire. It brings you a sense of safety a blanket could never do justice. 
But the feeling of being so close to Wanda felt just as safe, even though you did not know where you were or who you were even with. Her presence gave you a comfort that you hadn’t felt before. Her soft toga rubbed against your cheek, and you nuzzled into it subconsciously. Wanda’s lips turned up into a smile, petting your hair with a gentle hand. The sensation begins to wake you up, pulling you from your forced slumber. Slowly your eyes open, the dull shade of yellow filling your blurred and confined field of vision. 
The blindfold was still on, however, you didn’t mind this time. Whoever’s hold you are in made it clear that they do not want to be seen. Although you are unable to see, you keep your eyes glued to the fire in front of you, the light slightly dimmed by the blindfold. 
“Are you awake, dear?” Wanda’s voice sounds from above you, and you nod your head that lays in her lap. 
“Who are you?” You ask, your voice filled with curiosity but not fear. 
“My name is Wanda, and you are here with my sisters Stheno and Euryale. You are safe, sweetheart.” Wanda responds, her knuckle softly dragging down your cheek. She smiles as you begin to sit up, allowing you to fully sit next to her. 
Your next question was quick to exit, “Where are we? I was on my way home but was turned around,” You explained your situation, leaving out the part where the god almost sacrificed you to his father but left you for the dead when he decided you were not good enough. “I hear water,” You point out. 
“Yes, we are on the beach a ways North from Athens. You needed help, as when I found you, you were chained to a rock,” Wanda said bluntly. “But you’re safe now,” Her snakes hissed at the thought of the woman in front of them being used as a sacrifice, but Wanda was quick to hush them. “And what is your name, sweetheart?” 
The feelings of the rope around your wrists caused you to cringe in disgust, your arms wrapping around yourself.
“R-right…” You respond, trying to get the thought of death from your mind. Shaking your head, you sigh softly and lean back on one hand, answering Wanda's question, “My name is Y/n.”
“What a beautiful name, but I think I’ll stick to calling you sweetheart. Is that alright?” Wanda asks, her finger softly brushing over the exposed skin of your arm. A small smile grows on your lips and you nod. 
“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be,” You say, a small giggle leaving your mouth. “I- um, I do have to ask. Why am I blindfolded?” The question was burning at the back of your skull for what seemed to be hours. From the first time you woke up to now, you had been aching for an answer. 
Wanda hesitates. When she was turned by Athena, she never looked at her sisters. Even though they were immortal, they could still turn to stone if they met her gaze with their own. You hear a soft sigh and her soft voice tainted with sadness answer, “There is a dangerous creature around here that has the ability to turn any entity into stone once you look into her eyes. I cover your eyes for the purpose of protection.” 
“But I can’t see,” You protest, reaching for the fabric. Wanda's hand wraps around your wrist as she stops you. “No, you don’t understand, I can’t see, even with the blindfold off. I was born blind," you explain, trying to help the woman in front of you understand that you were not in danger. 
“Blind?” Wanda asks, your hands falling into hers as you move to your knees. “Meaning, you are unable to see anything?” 
You nod, hoping she can see you. “Yes. There are only blobs of color here and there, but other than that, I can’t see a thing.” It was always difficult to explain what you could see. There was no reason it should be this hard as you could always say: ‘I can’t see anything,’ but you always go to the ‘blob of color’ explanation first. 
“I don’t want to risk it, sweetheart. Blind or not, we don’t know who is not affected by her power,” She pauses, “Ive only just begun to get to know you, I don’t want to talk to a statue of such a beautiful woman.” 
You feel heat rise from your neck, to your cheeks, all the way up to your ears. Her compliment makes you smile brightly. “O-oh, thank you…” You say, shyly looking away from her. “I understand, but, I really don’t think I will be affected, honestly!” You attempt to grab the blindfold again, this time successfully ripping it from your head. The fabric falls to the ground and you blink to allow your eyes to settle back to normal. “If I can’t see the creature, I don’t think it will be a bother,” You smile.
Wanda sighs and closes her eyes, pulling her gaze away from your beautiful figure. She hums as she feels your hand against her shoulder, your thumb softly rubbing over her skin. “May I feel your face? I would love to have an idea of what you look like to others,” You ask her, not wanting to seem too forward with your request. “Only if you allow it…” 
Wanda keeps her head down, her snakes moving down to your hand to move their little tongues over your skin to learn more about you. 
“Oh, oh? What are these?” She hears you say. She is taken aback by the giggling she hears next. “They’re tickling me,” You say, your sweet laughter filling the air. “Is this your hair?” Your finger hovers in the air just above her shoulder and the rest of the snakes lick it as well. 
Wanda’s silence is enough to answer your question. 
“I wish I could see them, they all seem so gent- ow! Except this little one,” Fang, still a little nervous to be around a new face, bites down on your finger. It was not as painful as you thought it would have been. Wanda jumped at your pain and immediately tapped Fang’s head to discipline her. 
“No biting! She is a friend, not an enemy!” Wanda whisper-shouts at her, and you giggle quietly to yourself. “I apologize for her behavior, she knows better.” The snake hisses in return and she sighs as she moves her gaze up just a little bit. Her eyes land on your beautiful breasts, your nipples showing through the thin fabric of your toga. Wanda knows she should not be lusting, but she can’t help it. 
You tilt your head at her scolding her head of red snakes, and your hand falls. “I don’t want to intrude on your home. Thank you for saving me, Wanda, but I best be on my way,” You say, standing up. Carefully, you try to reach around for a stick of some sort, nothing close to you. All you can do is stand awkwardly, trying to keep calm as you listen to the waves crashing against the sand. 
“No, you need to rest, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day, so why don’t you sit down and we can eat? Stheno has made some bread, and the chicken is just about done.” Wanda tries everything in her power to make you stay, not wanting to force you just yet. In her mind, she knows she will make you stay. 
Your stomach rumbles, and Wanda chuckles. “It seems like your hunger has spoken for itself, so lets sit you down again.” 
Before Wanda is able to help you sit down, or protest about anything for that matter, you reach up to feel her face, your eyes meeting hers. Although you were unable to see her beautiful green and red mixed eyes, she saw your grey ones. Your irises held no color, and a scar-like line of [your original eye color] strikes through your right eye. 
You didn’t turn to stone…
“Wanda… Wanda look!” Stheno exclaims. The woman you are looking up at tilts her head, her power not working on you. 
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” You ask, retracting your hands from her cheeks. Instantly, she pulls them back. 
“No, no you didn’t hurt me, sweetheart. I- I am just surprised… my power, it didn’t work,” She says, churning confusion inside of your head. 
“Power?” You pause, putting two and two together. “The creature you mentioned… the one that can turn people to stone, you are her… aren’t you?” 
Wanda nods, your hands moving with her head. “Yes, and, I was trying to protect you, but-”
Your thumb gently brushes over her lips, the rest of your fingers ghosting over her facial structure, sculpting a picture in your mind. “I’ve only heard legends of a so called “monster” in these parts. But I have yet to meet a monster… Besides that god that tried to sacrifice me of course, but you? You are no monster.”
Your words made Wanda's heart melt. She has me wrapped around her finger already… there was no way I was letting her go. Her inner thoughts were loud, and she smiled softly as your fingers grazed her lips again. 
“I’m very. Much aware of my inability to see what most people can with their eyes. But…” You pause, your hand cupping her jaw. “I do see your heart, and I think you’re absolutely beautiful. You took me in when I was vulnerable and scared, and I can’t thank you enough… You are no monster, Wanda.” You whisper, smiling as you feel Wanda’s arms curl around your waist, pulling you against her body. 
“We’ve only just met, sweetheart…are you already falling for me?” Wanda teases, making you giggle as you lay your hand on her shoulder and drop your head to her chest. 
“I might be… or I might just be hungry,” You prod back, your stomach doing somersaults as her lips press to your forehead in a soft kiss. “I hope its the former…”
~~~~~~~
As the night went on, you, Wanda, and her sisters enjoyed the food. You were happy you got to know Wanda a bit more while you talked amongst yourselves. She told you about her troubles with Poseidon, and how she became the 'monster' everybody claims her to be. She mentioned how she is still mortal and will die a death as any other mortal would. 
It saddened you that she considered herself a ‘monster’, but you comforted her every time. She was not a monster in your mind. She was a victim who was punished for someone else’s doing, as were you. Although it was Poseidon who made his father angry, he punished you by trying to sacrifice you. You found common ground with Wanda. 
“I think we will head into the cave for the night,” Said Stheno, nudging Euryale. “Just be sure to put the fire out when you both are done.” 
Wanda nodded at her older sisters, shooing them away as she turned back to you. “It is such a beautiful night… I wish you could experience it the way I am,” She said to you, her fingernails tickling your arm as you lay in her lap. Her heart flutters at the feeling of your body weight in her lap, it grounded her. 
“I can see how beautiful it is by feeling it,” You turn your body so you are looking up at Wanda, her snakes curiously looking back down at you. “I feel a small breeze against my skin, and I can hear the waves crashing against the sand. I can smell the salt coming from the sea, and I can hear your breaths. All of these things are such a beautiful image to me.” 
Wanda’s lips pull up into a smile, a real, genuine smile. It had been so long since she felt as happy as this. It had been so long since she felt so carefree. As you spoke about your experience with your other senses, Wanda softly caressed your cheek. She hums quietly as she notices goosebumps form on your arms. “I have taken my sight for granted,” She says suddenly, taking in everything you said about feeling everything surrounding you. 
“To a deaf person, I have taken my hearing for granted as well, but I am grateful that I can hear your voice,” You counter her thoughts, wanting to make her not feel so guilty about her advantage of sight. 
“Your thoughts are just as beautiful as you are, sweetheart,” Wanda pauses, her fingers moving from your cheek to your neck. Slowly she moves closer to the dip in your dress, your breasts now free from their undergarments, and lying loosely behind the fabric of your toga. “You have the body of a goddess, the mind of a sage, and such a sweet personality.” 
Her hand gently cups your breast, nimble fingers rubbing over your hardened nipple, peaking through the white dress. Your hand goes to hers, holding it still. She freezes, “Can I see you, sweetheart? All of you?” She asks, knowing exactly how it felt being forced to submit to someone much more powerful than her.
As you sit upright, you untie the piece of seaweed holding your dress around your body, the sleeves sliding down past your shoulders finally revealing your round, perfectly shaped breasts. Wanda sucks in a soft breath, an aching in her belly starting to form. She needed you, badly. 
From her crossed-legged position on the ground, Wanda moves to her knees. You can sense her shifting, and you look around to follow the noises. Wanda's smooth hands softly guide you to your back, laying you gently against the sand below you. She then slowly pulls the rest of your dress off, exposing the rest of your beautiful body. “You are even more than I imagined…” She whispers, leaning down close to your chest. 
She presses a kiss to the valley of your bosom, moving her lips up your sternum and to your neck, hovering just over your jugular. You can feel her smile against your neck and you turn your head to expose more skin to her. 
The goddess above you couldn’t hold herself back any longer. Looking at your perfect body from her perspective was riveting, and it drove her mad. Her breath fanned against your lips, your body frozen and waiting for her to kiss you. That dull aching in Wanda's core grew, and she leaned down to kiss you deeply. Your arms wrapped around her neck, and you giggled as some of her snakes licked your hands. But Wanda wanted something else. 
Her eyes began to glow a bright red, her head of snakes wrapping around your wrists. You gasped but allowed it to happen. As she leaned down lower, her snakes held your arms to the ground, holding you open and exposed to Wanda. As she continued to kiss you, her hand crept down your belly and to the soft hairs of your mound. She rubbed your petals, smirking against your lips as she could feel how wet you already were. 
“Mmm, are you all wet just for me, sweet girl?” She whispers against your lips, chuckling softly as you nod desperately. “Such a good girl,” Her fingers finally dip between your wet folds, perfectly rubbing your button of nerves. A moan leaves your mouth, your legs spreading to give her more access. 
“Feels s-so good, W-wanda,” You whimper, never feeling such great pleasure before. Your back arched against the cool sand, your arms still pinned to the sides of your head. Squeezing your eyes shut, you saw starts as the tight coil in your core began to form. 
“I can feel that you’re close, sweet heart,” Wanda mumbles darkly against your cheek. Your mind clouded with a lustful mist, your legs shaking as your orgasm came crashing down upon you just as the waves did the sand. A loud moan leaves your mouth, Wanda's name being cried out by the woman underneath her. 
Your breaths come out in soft pants, gulping in as much air as you can as your orgasm calms down. But Wanda is far from done. Her snakes uncoil from your wrists and she moves her lips down your body, her mouth meeting your dripping folds. You let out a whimper, your clit sensitive from her previous ministrations. “Relax, sweet girl…” She whispers, “I need to taste you,”
Her lips close on your engorged clit, swirling her tongue in just the right way to make you moan her name. She spreads open your pussy with one hand, her fingers prodding at your tight hole with the other, and you jolt in surprise at the sudden intrusion. Wanda's snakes are quick to calm you down, their heads rubbing against your thighs in gentle circles. 
“Such a good girl, taking my fingers so well,” Wanda says, two of her long fingers sliding into your soaking hole, a whimper leaving your mouth at the same time. “Keep making those cute little sounds, love,” She eggs you on and you give in to every command. 
Your moans are music to her ears, the frequent movement of her fingers pulling each mewl from your throat. A ‘pop’ is sounded as her lips suctioned off of your clit, but returning soon after.
Her fingers move faster, and her tongue moving around your clit pushes you over the edge, causing your second orgasm to flow through you. Your juices squirt out of your quivering hole, soaking Wanda’s face along with some of her snakes. 
“Oh… how beautiful, and delicious you taste, sweetheart.” Wanda smiles against your pussy, pressing her lips to the top of your mound softly and kissing up your body. Her lips wrap around one of your nipples, and your hand reaches to find her pussy. 
“Wanna feel you…” You say, rubbing your hand over her belly and lower, finally reaching her pussy as you push your hand under her dress. 
“By all means. You are mine and I am yours,” Wanda says, resuming the pleasure of your nipple. 
You feel her clit, rubbing her in slow circles at first. Slowly, your fingers move to her hole as well, gently easing into her and smiling as you hear a moan from her mouth. The vibrations from her throat send more pleasure through your nipples, pulling more moans from your own mouth. 
As you move your fingers in and out of her wet cunt, the palm of your hand rubs against her clit. You can feel her body shake, her breath quiver, and her breasts against your own body. All sensations you never thought you would love so dearly. 
Wanda is close, and she leans up from your nipples to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, her hole clenching around your fingers as she cums. You swallow her moans, your free hand coming up to cup her cheek as you return the kiss. 
“Wands,” You whisper, not moving away just yet. Gently, you slide your fingers from her pussy, bringing them to your mouth and seductively sucking her juices off of your digits. “Such a ravishing taste, my love,” 
Hearing those last two words made Wanda's stomach do backflips. Belonging to someone was all she wanted, and she wanted you to belong only to her. “Your love?” She asks, pulling away just to see your lips move. 
“My love, Wanda,” You confirm, smiling as you lean up to kiss her again. 
~~~~~~~
It is long past midnight, and Wanda has you in her arms, both of your naked bodies pressed against each other. With your head on her chest, you can hear her heartbeat, the soft thumping calming and lulling you to sleep. 
“Thank you for saving me, Wanda. I- I don’t know what how I can express to you how grateful I am,” 
That sparks an idea in Wanda’s head. You were a kind and loving soul, most likely willing to do anything to repay someone for their own kindness. So, she makes her plan fall right into place. 
“Stay with me? Live here with me and my sisters? We all can tend to you, help you navigate, and we can even go to the village just East of here. But stay, please?” Wanda asks you, her lips gently pressing against your head as you think. 
“I have no one back where I am from. They all shunned me because I couldn’t see. I can’t say no to such an amazing and thoughtful proposal as this,” You sit up, maneuvering your body to straddle her lap as she leans against the rock that was settled closer to the water. You nuzzle your face into the crook of her neck, Lucky gently laying her head on yours as well, and you close your eyes. “I would love to stay with you, only you. Forever.” 
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854 notes · View notes
anadiasmount · 2 months
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as time gets close - jude bellingham x reader.
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quick sum: almost close to your due date, what is wrong with a late-night grocery trip with your very excited and anxiously waiting fiance?
wc: 1.8k | masterlist | jude's masterlist
psa 🗣️: a little dad! jude blurb bc we haven’t seen much of this on the timeline!! like always hope you enjoy 🤍
"why are you bending down? you know that is bad for you," you rolled your eyes at your fiance's scolding, grabbing the keys from the floor. "i dropped the keys by accident," you say as you pick the correct key that belonged to the lock. jude rubbed your belly, ensuring you were okay before helping you out to the car, the reusable bags tucked underneath his arm.
"did you bring the list?" you ask him seeing as he nods and pulls it out from the pockets of his hoodie. "i did. i also brought you some snacks because you didn't eat much after getting some nausea," you pouted your lips leaning up to peck his cheek thanking him. "what would i do without you?" you tease, a playful scoff falling from his lips.
"what makes you think you'd be without me? i'm attached to you for life remember?" he grabs your left hand kissing over your ring finger as he gives you a knowing look. you feel as he brings your intertwined hands to your belly, "and you're carrying my baby in there."
"really i couldn't tell," you say sarcastically.
"let's make it quick because my feet already hurt and i want to sleep," you advised letting out a tired yawn. despite being close to your due date, you still had some work to do before maternity leave. making calls to set meetings, attending them over zoom, filing paperwork, in charge of making sure the firm doesn't backfire, and planning some stuff out for your wedding.
jude had told you multiple times to take it easy, but placing that aside, he always helped you unconditionally. in the shower, when cooking, taking care of chores, before bed, and attending all your doctor's appointments. he was your personal midwife and wanted to take care of you the most he could.
you remembered to look on his face when you told him you were expecting, the tears on his face as he spoke to your barely bump all night and traced his hands on your belly. singing and humming lullabies and stories about his day. since then he wanted to protect you the best he could.
going to the grocery store at this time was nothing new, in fact, it became so prevalent now that you were pregnant because you craved everything. making jude do a late run to pick up your cravings or groceries for the upcoming weeks. the same store, at the same time.
you placed your purse on the cart, snuggling into your jacket as the cold air inside the store blew you away. you followed jude who picked out veggies and greens for his meal prepping, helping him tie the bags and weigh them on the digital scale that produced labels. you watched in awe as your boyfriend picked out three pairs of different flowers. "what are these for?" you asked, smelling the flowery scent.
"for the house. we need to replace the old ones that dried out," jude says with a shy grin. "you were the one who said plants and flowers bring a sense of home into our house, " jude recalled your words, kissing your temple, pushing the cart since it became a bit heavier. "i did say that didn't i? well i wasn't wrong," you shrug, wrapping a hand around his bicep as he trailed along isles to pick up the different items on the list.
he did all the heavy lifting as you reached and picked stuff up from your level, like spices and eggs. you turn your back for a few seconds to retrieve some milk and coffee beans for the morning, to see the cart filled with pop tarts and other salty snacks. "no no no," you shake your head, as jude whines out protests. "y/n we need them! they're even on sale!"
“jude, i don’t care! we just got some three days ago!,” you say laughing, putting back the box of pop tarts. “y/n i’m telling you right now, in a couple of hours or days you’re gonna have me running back here for them,” jude states following behind you.
“am not!” you quickly defend, bringing a hand to your aching back. “are too! last night you had me running out for cheetos. what’s it going to be today? kettled popcorn? or wingstop?” jude teased making you rolls your eyes and focusing back on to what needed to get done. “don’t forget we need to pick some of that acid reflex stuff for you, to get rid of the heartburn,” jude reminds you, taking the cart and walking out of the pop tarts isle, sneaking a box in for you.
“what’s left on the list?” you ask him, taking out a small snack you had in your purse and offering some to jude. “we need bananas, strawberries, orange juice, and meats for upcoming dinners…” jude reads the list one by one, using his index finger as he goes along.
you pass by an isle grabbing some cereal and granola for your yogurts and bowls. jude insisting he grabs his favorite too since you refuse to share from your part. as you wait by the deli section jude come behind you, grabbing your belly and relieving some of the pressure.
you immediately lay your head back on his shoulder sighing in relief, hearing jude chuckle and place a kiss on your head. “almost there darling,” he whispered running one of his hands along your tummy. “i know what you’re doing jude… and if this baby starts kicking right now i’ll leave you here,” you warn.
“i’m just trying to help you love. doesn’t it feel good?” he reprimanded as you nodded. “yes but not when she starts kicking, i swear she does it on purpose and it’s your fault. like she knows it you,” you said feeling your lower back less tense and heavy. "i kid you not, last night she almost made me pee from this hard kick!"
"sounds to me like we have a mini footballer coming into our lives," said jude continuing to hold your belly since you were tired and your baby was heavy. he had read the method online with other tips and tricks. jude got more into reading when he found out you were pregnant, wanting to know every effect and secret to ensure a healthy and safe pregnancy.
"let's hope not, i don't think i could handle cleaning up broken stuff around the house every day," you sigh, releasing yourself from his hold because you began to get hot. you didn’t understand how your body was so quick to adjust and then de-adjust from hot and cold, but it was so easy and it drove you mad sometimes.
“you okay?” jude softened his eyes as you let out a breath of despair, holding your hand and feeling a sit squeezed tightly against his. “yeah just got a mini cramp,” you held your back and practiced breathing methods you learned, “i’m good, i promise,” you kiss his hand before retrieving the meats from the butcher. "we'll get home soon, and i promise you a warm tea and massage okay?"
"did you want chocolate or strawberry milk?" jude held up the pint containers, "strawberry, we still have chocolate milk at home," you said, jude nodding as he quickly picked the orange juice and your favorite yogurts. "i was never a fan of sweet or flavored milk but these are soooo good," you exaggerated, jude smiling hard down at you.
"never a fan? these were my childhood as a kid! my mum used to buy these or the powder to make it ourselves," jude says recalling a old memory thinking of his babygirl. "you reckon she'll like them too?" jude spoke softly as he saw you give him a fast nod. if there was one thing loved it was discussing his babygirl. he was so anxious and wanted to meet her. the itch in his teeth getting bigger as every day passes.
to hold her while she slept, hug her to keep her warm, coddle her to sleep, feed her. he was ready for it all. he loved to shop and spoil her already. her carrier, crib, different books, toys, and stuffed animals like he had as a kid. she didn't know it yet, but she would be jude's second best friend. firstly you. always you.
they saw if one ever finds love at first sight, and jude definitely did with you. a smile so bright, eyes gleaming with happiness, a stranger who he fell madly with almost immediately after hearing her say hello. through ups and downs, you found your way to each other and since then, it's a love story for the movies. jude had his career blowing, a beautiful fiancee, and now a baby on the way. what more could he want?
as jude helped bag the groceries into the recycled bags you had, you paid and thanked the cashier whom you got close with on nights like these. asking how her day was, about her kids, anything special, always something to distract her. "you two have a safe night!" she yelled as you turned and thanked, wishing her a good night as well.
after you insisted on helping, you carried four light bags as jude carried most bags since he hated double trips. you guys quickly unpacked everything, longing and wishing to get into bed. you ensure the stove and other appliances are off, grabbing your tea and heading upstairs with jude.
"lay here for me," jude instructed, grabbing some cream and begging to smooth and massage out the muscles on your legs and shoulders. "after we have her, i promise i'll return every single thing you did for me while i was pregnant," you say struggled and full pleasure as the tension went away at jude's fingertips. "oh i'm fully expecting the injured boyfriend method again," jude teased as he finished up.
he grabbed a new book, laying on your side as you brushed and played with a few curls on his head, twirling them around your finger as he breathed softly. he looked so gentle and full of excitement like this, reading to your babygirl, who sensed her daddy's voice as she kicked. she knew, she always knew.
he applied your belly oil to prevent any stretch marks and kissed the small ones that formed along the way. jude cherished your body for carrying his baby in there, for being able to give and bring a new life into his and yours. you laid on your side, jude's chest connecting and fitting the crevasse on your back, holding your tummy as in a way to keep it safe.
you placed and locked hands with his, as jude wishing you a goodnight, peering kissed on your shoulders then finally lips, moaning in delight, a tiny groan leaving his lips. "i love you so much darling," he whispered, kissing your temple and snuggling into you more. "iloveyoutoojude," you said fast, with a playful smile on your lips as you felt a familiar sensation of a certain craving. "okay now i do want some pop tarts..."
"are you serious right now?"
942 notes · View notes
borathae · 10 months
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"Now that Jungkook can finally stay the night, you and he take advantage of it as many times as possible. Cuddles, snuggles and sweet kisses lull you to sleep. His hard cock filling up your pussy and his needy moans wake you again. "Don't tease please", he begs, knowing very well that begging is fruitless."
Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x Witch!Reader
Genre: Vampire!AU, Magic!AU, established relationship!AU, polyamory!AU, Camping Trip!AU, Smut
Warnings: Yoongi & Tae get mentioned, sex in a camper van, sub!Jungkook, Dom!Reader, he calls her Mistress, needy!Jungkook, masochist!Jungkook, consensual free use kink (free use in this story = you can do whatever you want to me, whenever you want), consensual somnophilia, he fucks her pussy while she sleeps, use of lube, Koo has sensitive nipples, nipple play, he's got a big vampire dick, gentle choking, needy begging, dirty talk, praise (good babyboy!googie nation rise), degradation (he gets called slut), dumbification (m.receiving), he cries cause it's so good & he's so needy, she uses her magic to control his orgasms, edging for him, multiple orgasms for both, creampies, unnatural amounts of cum ;), she grinds her pussy against his cock, thigh riding until she cums, a little bit of anal fingering for her, cock slapping, she rides him, he can’t stop hugging her and touching her and kissing her :(, he needs so much aftercare, please protect this bean, they are in love and very kinky
Wordcount: 7.4k
a/n: This is Sanguis!Kookie & follows this smut. I am literally going to combust on the spot. I fucking need him so much. Enjoy besties, this is unhinged 💗
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The sun is shining into the camper van. The blinds are still drawn closed, which results in the light to enter the room in small golden streaks. The ocean sings its daily songs. Last night when Jungkook woke you with his lips wrapped around your nipple, it was silent as it slept. It is awake again, now filling the nice silence with the rushing of waves and the occasional call of a seagull. The chatter of people ebbs and flows as, outside, fellow campers pass your van on their way to the beach. Their conversations are unintelligible to you.
Jungkook is moaning above you. It is gentle and quiet and equals little whimpers more than anything else. 
You need a few seconds to conceptualise what is happening to you, but once you do, you feel charged in pleasure instantly. Jungkook is rocking himself into you, filling you up with his warm, hard cock. He actually made good on the promise he made last night and is now using your pussy to masturbate his sensitive dick. From how sensitive you feel yourself and by how raggedy he breathes, he must have been going at it for quite a while. The sheets under your butt are soaked and in the deepest pit of your stomach, you feel a constant warm pressure threatening to burst. 
You open your eyes, expecting to meet his gaze but being surprised by what you find. He has his eyes closed. His curly hair is sticking to his damp face, his brows are furrowed and his pouty lips are parted. The golden sunlight falsifies his skin tone, turning his naturally pale vampire skin a healthy human colour. He is glowing, not only as if sunlight kissed him, but also his cheeks are flushed. Pinker than the rest of his face. Cute. So immensely pretty.
You stay silent as you enjoy the view. You don’t want to soil this moment by making yourself known. Jungkook should continue to exist in the blissful embrace of thinking that you are still asleep.
He is propped up on his hands. They rest a little above your head and dimple the pillow. His muscles are tensed, the veins in his lower arms are swollen. You fight every urge inside of you not to feel him up, to trace his veins and touch his hardened muscles. Not yet. He needs to be blissfully unaware longer. He feels so good when he is, rocking into you slowly and deeply. Being deep is honestly rather easy with his impressive length. You really can’t get enough of how he feels, how he fills you up and how he never hurts because he fits you as if he was made for you.
His nipples call your attention next. He has the daintiest, little nipples. Darker in colour and incredibly pretty. They aren’t swollen right now, but they could be with just one touch. Truly, he is so pretty. And to think how sensitive they are. 
You knew what you were doing last night. You knew that sucking on them would get him needy. You don’t know why you did it because you were this close to falling asleep again, but you really wanted to do it. Maybe you enjoy scrambling the thoughts of your lovers. It feels so good to know that you can turn them from intelligent, well put together men to stuttering, begging messes within seconds if only you touch them right. They are all the same. Taehyung with his sensitive thighs, Yoongi with his sensitive neck and Jungkook with his sensitive nipples. It’s so easy to turn them into messes. 
Maybe that is why you did it last night. Because you love to drive them so mad in lust that they stop thinking rationally and instead act instinctively. The sex always feels especially good when they do.
You don’t touch his nipples even if you want to. Not yet. Jungkook shouldn’t be aware of you yet. 
You shift your head a little. Just a little in order not to call his attention. Jungkook doesn’t notice it, he is too lost in you.
You can’t see a lot from the position, but you try to look at his tummy next. Only glimpses of it meet your eyes. His hard-earned abs tense and relax with the smooth movements of his hips. On any other day, you would have reached down there and felt him up. Not yet.
Your eyes flit up again. He still isn’t looking, but scrunches his nose up. His head is tilted back the slightest bit, revealing his throat to your eyes. Glistening in a slight layer of sweat and skin vast of any sorts of marks. Not that marks stay on their bodies for long, but it’s still a tragedy that his throat looks so empty.
Not yet.
Jungkook moans and shudders above you. His cock fills you up deeper and forces you to almost make a sound. You widen your eyes, biting down the moan threatening to escape as your toes curl in bliss. Jungkook repeats the motion. The same feeling courses through your body as before. Hot and addicting. He does it again and by now, you realised that he picked up a new tempo. Deeper than before and needier. Judging by how hard he tries not to be loud, he is getting closer, making it harder and harder for you to stay silent as well. All you want to do is moan.
Perhaps you have to make yourself known. It’s too good to handle.
You lift your hands to his nipples and rub them.
“Holy fuck, ah”, Jungkook gasps and collapses to his elbows. His face falls against the crook of your neck, his cock covers your walls in spurts of his hot pleasure, “holy fuck.”
“Good morning”, you rasp, pinching and rolling his nipples between your fingers.
“You’re making me cum”, he whimpers. It’s been too long since he started. This was his last straw, “holy fuck, honey”, he moans and shakes.
“Oh?” you let out and giggle, hugging him against you as he empties his heavy balls inside you, “what a way to start the day. Does that feel nice, baby? Mhm?”
“Yeaah”, Jungkook keens, shaking in your arms. 
“That’s it baby. I’m sorry. I surprised you quite a bit, didn’t I? But that’s okay, baby. Enjoy yourself, just enjoy yourself my honey”, you talk him through it, helping him ride out the surprise high by rolling your hips up against him. Your heart is racing like crazy. This is the cutest, yet hottest thing he ever did.
It feels heavenly to you to be filled like that. His cum is so warm and his cock so hard. It feels nice to be filled with him. 
Jungkook comes down with a shudder of his limbs, dropping atop of you with a loud squeak. He shivers, squeaking out little noises. His cock is still rockhard, throbbing inside you as he recovers. You soothe him with back scratches and a slow scalp massage, enjoying the warm scent he radiates. 
“Good morning indeed, mhm?” you whisper. 
“I’m sorry”, he croaks, breathing heavily.
“For what?” 
“I didn’t mean to cum already. That was so embarrassing.”
“It wasn’t. You were perfect”, you say and giggle, “although I gotta admit, it’s a little funny to think that the second I wake up you have to nut.”
Jungkook lets out a breathy laugh, “yeah uh”, he lifts his head, blushing like crazy, “fuck”, he laughs.
“You’re cute, Kookie”, you say, cupping his face. 
He closes his eyes, leaning into your embrace. He smiles prettily.
“I do gotta say though. You’re bold as fuck. You really just used my pussy to jerk off huh?”
“Mhm?”
“I woke up to you jerking off with my pussy as if you’re a dumb, needy animal. What kind of imagine does that make Kookie, hm?”
He opens eyes, pouting at you, “I needy one?” he asks cutely.
“Exactly. So needy.”
Jungkook widens his eyes cutely “I, I only did it because you told me last night that I can fuck your pussy.”
You smile, tracing his cupids bows, “mhhm, did I?”
“Y-yes.”
“Interesting. I can’t remember that I did”, you coo and pinch his cheeks. 
“Ah aha, don’t”, Jungkook giggles, bucking his hips into you in a needy reaction. It feels so good, but teasing him feels even better. You stop his hips, speaking in a soft yet demanding voice.
“Get off of me, Kook.”
“What?”
“Get off of me. Now.”
Jungkook follows your orders instantly. 
“I’m, I’m sorry”, he stutters, tearing up because he thinks that he messed up. That he did something you didn’t want to do. 
You sit up and take him by his shoulders to guide him. He falls against the headboard, looking at you with glassy eyes. 
“I’m so sorry”, he chokes out.
“Don’t apologise baby, you did nothing wrong”, you assure him, smoothing over his cheeks, “well”, you smirk darkly, “you did. You’re such a needy, little boy, aren’t you? Look at the mess you made”, you say, running your fingers through your creampied pussy, “so messy.”
Jungkook gulps, widening his eyes cutely. He finally understands what is happening. You aren’t mad at him, you are just being your perfect self. This is all an act. A part of the sex he started. You are so into this right now. He pouts, tears roll down his cheeks. 
“I didn’t think that you would take my offer and yet you did. You are such a needy slut, Kookie. Do you really only think with your cock, hm?”
Jungkook sobs and nods his head, squeezing his eyes shut. 
“I’m such a dumb slut”, he chokes out and sobs, “I’m sorry Mistress, all I do is think with my cock.”
“Of course you do. That’s all you do, you cute, pretty slut”, you say, sitting down on his lap right under his cock. You smear his cum everywhere, using it to grind your clit against his muscular thigh. The sensation makes your body burn up.
Jungkook opens his eyes and whimpers, grabbing your hips. 
“Please”, he begs, trying to tug you onto his cock. 
“No touching”, you say, taking his wrists to guide them behind his back. 
Like this, your faces are so close that with only one tilt of your head, you would kiss him. He is gazing at you, eyes racing between yours and sparkling like crazy.
“I want you to keep your hands behind your back. Can you do that for me or are you dumb enough to fail?” 
“I wanna try”, he whispers, “please?”
“You’re such a good boy, so good for me”, you praise, “clean.”
You press your cum slickened fingers against his lips. Jungkook opens up and takes you inside, sucking on your digits as his good boy eyes gaze up at you. 
“There we go. Are you yummy mhm? Do you like how you taste?” 
He nods his head, moaning needily and tensing his thighs.
“Kook”, you sigh, eyelids fluttering, “Koo, I’m…my pussy’s sensitive. Keep…yeah, keep doing that.”
He moans, sucks and tenses his thigh. It flinches and shakes under your pussy. You glide over his smooth skin, electricity shoots through your veins. 
“Fuck”, you sigh, dropping against Jungkook’s strong chest. Like this, you forget all about your fingers in his mouth which results in your hand slipping down and your fingers tugging his jaw down with them. 
Jungkook shakes his head free, resulting in your hand falling around his throat gently. 
Your forehead is resting against his shoulder, your back is bent so you are more comfortable and your pussy is dripping down his sculpted thighs. 
Although he promised to be your good boy, Jungkook puts his arms to the front. He needs to touch you. That’s all he wants to do. Touch you, hug you, feel you as you moan in his arms. He wanted to do those things for years and now that he finally can, he doesn’t want to stop doing them.
“Holy fuck, that’s good. Fuck, that’s so good”, you moan, scratching his scalp as you continue to twist and relax your fingers in his hair.
Jungkook cuddles closer, kissing your neck as best as possible.
“That’s so good, oh god Kook”, you shudder, circling your clit against him quickly, “holy fuck.”
“I’m here”, he whispers, slipping his right hand to your butt while his left arm still hugs you close. His fingers dip between your buttocks, picking up the remnants of his cum so he can spread it on your hole. 
“Baby”, you groan, tensing up for just one second before you shudder and moan shakily. Your hips speed up afterwards, your fingers squeeze around his throat, “don’t stop baby, please don’t stop.”
Jungkook moans, enjoying you with his eyes closed. This is paradise to him. He continues to move his pointer and middle finger against your hole, massaging it with just enough pressure that you feel it deep inside you. He doesn’t even have to slip in and yet you feel stuffed with him. 
“So good…”
Your clit is burning. That’s how it feels to hump his sculpted thigh. Hot. So incredibly hot. You can’t take much more. 
“I’m gonna cum like this”, you choke out, resorting to moaning afterwards. 
“Don’t hold back, please”, he begs, hugging you closer. He presses down on your hole and slips inside to his first knuckle.
“Ah”, you wail and orgasm instantly. If there is one thing that will always break you it’s when they introduce something new to the sex. Just like Jungkook with his nipples, all it took for you right now, was for Jungkook to breach your hole. 
You shake and tremble, covering his thigh in your orgasm as you feel in goddamn paradise. 
“Holy f-fuck, holy shit, Kook”, you moan, hugging him tightly.
“Don’t stop, please don’t stop”, Jungkook begs, holding you through your high as his cock aches for your warmth again. 
You shake two more times and then drop. A little grumble of utter ruin leaves you, your fingers slip from his throat. 
Jungkook slips his fingers out and caresses your buttocks instead. Your pussy throbs on his thigh rhythmically. Like a heartbeat. He knows that these are the aftermaths of your intense high. You are panting like crazy too. 
“A good morning, huh?” he jokes.
“Yeah hah”, you laugh breathily, lifting your head, “fuck.”
Your face is glowing from sweat and the golden light, your eyes are sparkling. Jungkook feels short of breath at the view. This is you. This right here is you. The truest you and he can look at you without wanting to rip you apart. Holy fuck.
He cups your cheeks, running his thumbs over your skin. His tummy flutters when your first reaction to his touch is to lean into him and give him a droopy smile.
“You are so beautiful”, he says.
“You are beautiful too, Kookie.” 
“I want more”, he confesses and tries to tug you closer to his cock, “please don’t let this end yet.”
“I don’t want this to end either”, you say, chasing him. You lift yourself, pressing your warm pussy against his cock as you go in for a kiss.
Jungkook whimpers, closing his strong arms around your lower waist and pressing you against him that way. He has to crane his neck to reach you, but he doesn’t mind. There is nothing better than to look up at you, to lift his head for you. You deserve that. You are his beautiful goddess and all you deserve is to be gazed upon. To be kissed and held and cherished.
You move your hips slowly, grinding your clit against his cock without slipping in. Just warmth, pressure and connection. It’s enough to make Jungkook moan into the kiss. Slow and gently you kiss him, sucking on his tongue because he tastes so good and moans so sweetly. 
You are still incredibly sensitive from your first high. His cock feels like the sweetest torture against your clit. A torture you can’t get enough of and which has you chasing him with eager, needy movements.
Jungkook breaks the kiss, “okay, fuck. You gotta slow down”, he sounds out of breath, his thighs are shaking beneath you.
“Why?” you ask, rutting against him with your arms hooked behind his head and your fingers deep in his hair. 
“I’m gonna cum”, he mewls and moans, tilting his head back and parting his lips. He squeezes your waist, throbbing against your clit. 
“Already?”
“I love you.”
“Yeah?” you giggle, “that’s why you’re close?”
“Yeah”, his eyes tear up, he pulls you closer.
“You’re cute”, you sigh, running your fingers through his hair “so cute”, you whisper, circling your clit right on his frenulum. 
“Oh mhmgng”, he presses out, widening his eyes at you. 
“So cute baby, so cute and so dumb.”
You can watch how his thoughts leave his brain, how utter emptiness fills his mind and how he becomes nothing but yours. You have to giggle and caress his cheeks. You press your pussy closer, resulting in his cock digging into his tummy and for your clit to feel charged in pleasure. 
“So dumb and cute, my little slut”, you coo.
“Please slow”, he begs, spilling tears, “I’m gonna cum, please.”
“Mhm, what a shame”, you say, lifting yourself and dropping back onto his lap. You continue rutting against him, using his thigh instead of his cock. 
“Please”, Jungkook mewls, now whining about being edged. He tries to sit up and chase you, but you take him by his shoulders and position him back against the headboard. He lets it happen with a moan, dropping his head against the window right above it as he is unable to open his eyes. He is so dizzy. You made him your dumb, pretty slut and however hard he tries, he won’t be able to escape until you free him again.
“Comfy?” you ask him again.
“No”, he croaks.
“No?”
“Want your pussy.”
“My pussy, hah”, you chuckle, “didn’t you whine about being too close?”
“I lied.”
“Sure you did”, you chuckle, “you’re being a greedy slut right now, aren’t you?”
Jungkook whimpers, “yeah”, he squeaks, arching into your touch.
“Of course you are. Just fucking look at your cock”, you say, placing your hands on his tummy right next to his cock. The touch is so heavy, leaving him to gasp for air.
“Please”, he begs for your hands, but you ignore him.
“You’re so wet, look at you. All sticky and messy”, you rasp, running your thumbs through his dark pubes. They are soaked in his own cum and your wetness. They feel so soft against your skin, “did you use lube when you fucked me?”
“Yeah. I, I didn’t want you to hurt so, so I used lube.”
“You did, wow”, you click your tongue, “even if you knew that you needed to use lube you didn’t stop, mhm? Is your cock really all that controls you, huh?”
He throbs, leaking new slick. The pretty little pearl runs down along his swollen vein and gathers on the base.
“Of course it is. Look at how wet you get when I talk about it”, you tease and grab him by his base. You slap his cock.
Jungkook cries out and arches off the headboard. His thighs squirm under your pussy, rubbing right against your clit. The sensation feels like fucking paradise.
“So dumb, you’re so dumb”, you taunt, spanking his cock again.
Jungkook bucks his hips up, almost throwing you off his lap because of it. He wails so sweetly, gripping your thighs because all he wants to do is hold you. He expected anything but this. 
He fucked your pussy for quite a while before you woke. It started with him waking up to you being his little spoon and your naked butt pressing right against his bared cock. The mess of last night was still sticking to your bodies, enabling Jungkook to rub his cock against you without any kind of struggle. It wasn’t long until he was hard and just as needy as he was last night. Maybe he was even needier because your words of last night kept repeating in his head.
“I can’t wait to wake up to your cock stuffed in me tomorrow”, you told him last night and ever since then, it has haunted him.
So Jungkook began humping you, trying to get you to wake up, but you were slumbering too deeply. So he tried something else. He tried to suck your nipples again, burying three of his long fingers in your warm pussy and massaging your clit. All it did was make you wetter and sigh in your sleep. So he tried to get rid of his desperation by humping your thigh, but this only made it worse. He tried to grind his cock against your clit next, but that didn’t wake you and made him so horny that he felt like crying. Nothing helped and the ache between Jungkook’s legs became unbearable. So he grabbed some lube, rubbed it all over his fully grown cock and then filled your pussy with his length. You felt like heaven around him and Jungkook began rocking himself into you in the slowest movements he ever made. If he hadn’t, he probably would have lost himself within seconds. The slow movements were nice, Jungkook never felt as close to you as he did when he fucked you this morning. They were nice, but they also kept him on the constant border to climax. 
The one he had before didn’t help. It just made it worse. The ache for you is unbearable. Which meant his cock was this close to bursting right now and your spanks were the last sparks needed to ignite the flame.
“I’m cumming”, he chokes out, fucking the air aggressively.
“No”, you say, squeezing around his base. It tingles where you touch him. Jungkook knows you are preventing his cock from cumming with a little bit of help from your magic.
“No”, he keens, writhing painfully, “please don’t do this to me, please.” It hurts so much. He wants to cum, but he can’t. Oh god, it hurts so much.
“Why not? It’s the least I can do to you for being such a slut”, you taunt him. The pressure around his base stops, instead you press his cock against his tummy and connect your pussy with it. In smooth rolls of your hips, you grind against him, sending his body down a spiral of unbearable pleasure.
“Please slow, please slow, please slow”, he begs.
“I am slow”, you tell him, holding onto his shoulders as you grind against his heavy cock, “I’m barely even moving.”
“It’s too much”, Jungkook mewls and sobs, “I wanna cum.”
“Stop whining.”
“Don’t tease, please”, he begs, bucking his hips up, “oh fuck, that was too much”, he begins whining, pouting as he does. He writhes as he talks, “please don’t go so fast, please Mistress please.”
“Do I have to force you to stop being such a slut, mhm?” you spit and grab his chin, “look at me.”
Jungkook peels his eyes open. The sweetest tears roll down his face and soil your fingers. Your hips still move against him, grinding your swollen clit against his burning cockhead. You are dripping all over him, your pulse is racing in your pussy. Jungkook can feel everything and it makes him want to pass out from how good it feels.
“Do I actually have to use magic on you to get you to stop being so sensitive, huh?”
“Can you do t-that?”
“I can do unspeakable things to you if I wanted to, Kookie.”
“Oh god”, he mewls, presenting his throat to you, “please do whatever you want to me, I-I’m free use.”
“Mhm, so needy”, you taunt, “fine, if you’re asking for it like such a slut”, you say and lean down to kiss his forehead. Jungkook knows that the kiss was magic. Not only because it really comforted him, but also because he felt unbearable pressure building in his stomach once your lips touched his skin. 
He mewls and writhes, fighting the feeling with minimal effort. He wants to cum and yet can’t. The pressure in his tummy is too much and yet he can’t let go. 
“Please”, he begs, “please, oh god please.”
“There we go”, you say, lifting your head. You smooth over his forehead, caressing his cheeks afterwards, “how is that feeling, mhm?”
“A, a lot. There, there is so much pressure in my tummy and, and my legs feel so, so weak”, he stutters. 
“Yeah? That’s the magic, babyboy”, you explain, “is it too much?”
“I don’t know yet”, he says, spilling tears, “please don’t let go.”
“I won’t, baby. Now that I can use your pretty, little cock to get off, I won’t hold back”, you say, moving your hips against his cock. 
Jungkook can feel everything. The magic doesn’t reduce the pleasure you give him, it simply prevents his body from falling over the edge. Your wet pussy grinds right against his swollen cockhead and all he can do is take it and spill tears. 
“How’s that? Is the magic too much?”
“I don’t know, I don’t fucking know”, he sobs, “please don’t ask me that, I don’t know”, he wails, pressing his eyes closed. 
“I’m just asking to make sure you’re not pushing yourself too much. Yeah? You’re such a dumb little slut that sometimes you go too far, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes”, he moans, “it’s not too much. I can’t cum, I don’t know what to do.”
“You don’t have to do anything. You just gotta be a good boy and let me use your cock like you used my pussy. It’s only fair, wouldn’t you say?”
He nods his head vigorously. 
“Good. Now relax”, you say, pushing his head back and speeding up your hips. 
Jungkook returns to his most natural state, moaning and sobbing just for you as his body writhes underneath you. His eyes are squeezed shut, his cheeks flushed and his pretty lips pouted in bliss. He looks so content with the situation. Content, but also utterly ruined. His arms keep tensing, clearly fighting the urge to squeeze you strongly. 
You run your hands to his biceps and squeeze them softly. Tense just how you thought. Your clit throbs against his cock.
“Fuck, I want you so bad”, you moan, giving in to your urges and lifting yourself just so you can sink down on his cock. 
“Ah”, Jungkook gets out, chasing you by sitting up straight. He was so lost in the feeling of your wet clit grinding against his cock that he didn’t even realise that you were taking him back in. 
“Relax”, you whisper, pushing him back down gently. His head does a thun as it hits the window again.
“Holy fuck”, he croaks, “holy fuck please let me cum, please.”
“Not yet”, you say and begin bouncing on him. 
“Ah!” Jungkook moans, arching his back, “ah! ah! ah!” 
He can’t do much more than make noises. There are only a few better things than having you ride him. Jungkook loves fucking you. He loves to control the tempo and movement and how you writhe and moan in reaction. He fucking loves it. But there is something especially heavenly about having you bounce on him. 
To be at your mercy, to take what you give him and to be reduced to a pretty cock to bounce on. Jungkook lives for the feeling of it, begging you to continue in a shaky voice.
“That’s it, holy fuck that’s it”, you moan, pressing yourself closer with one single goal in mind. Cum on his cock. Your naked tits press against his sculpted chest. His body heat mixes with yours, forcing layers of sweat to cover your skins. It’s an addicting sensation. To be so close and warm and sweaty with him as your bodies connect in harsh bounces. It’s addicting.
“I wanna cum”, Jungkook sobs, fighting the spell, “this is torture, it hurts so much.”
“Say the word and I’ll stop, you know you can stop this baby”, you pant, hugging him tighter against you. You need his stomach to grind against your clit. His cock is so deep inside you. You possibly couldn’t take all of him and yet he still feels as if he is going to rearrange your insides. You’re so goddamn addicted to that feeling. 
“Don’t stop”, Jungkook doesn’t say the word. He begs for more. Burying his face in the crook of your neck and going hazy at your scent, he begs for more. He wraps his arms around you, squeezing you desperately.
“I won’t, baby I won’t. You feel so good, you have no idea”, you choke out and moan loudly. You bury your fingers in his damp curls, pulling him closer this way. You need him so bad. Nobody knows just how bad you need him. You weren’t able to be like this with him for years. He would have ripped you apart before that, hurt you, even killed you. You had to hold back, he had to be restrained and muffled, people had to step in between whenever you grew too close. Two lovers forbidden from connecting in the most addicting of ways because otherwise you would have ended up dead. Two lovers now finally alone and able to find each other without the fear of being separated again. Nobody truly understands how much you want him. How much this morning means to you. 
“You feel so good”, you moan, “Kookie, you feel so good.”
“Please don’t stop”, he begs.
You knew that this trip wouldn’t be very productive. That you would spend most of it in your camper van while outside the weather was nice. It would have been a shocking surprise if you didn’t use the newfound freedom exploring each other every waking second. Perhaps this is even why you went on this trip in the first place. To fuck without restraints. Living with the others in your big, spacious castle was nice, but sometimes it feels better to know that you have true privacy. That everyone who can hear your blissful moans was a  stranger, who will never get to know you. 
It’s just you and him in a sea of strangers and that shit makes you want to ride him even harder. 
“I love you”, you pant, “I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too. Ah please”, Jungkook mewls, drooling all over your shoulder. His toes curl, his thighs tremble. He can’t let go even if he needs to. Jungkook feels this close to passing out. 
“I’m fucking cumming”, you moan, convulsing on top of him without stopping your movements, “holy fuck, holy fucking fuck Kook. Oh god.”
This is what happens when you get your hands on him. You get so goddamn greedy that you keep fucking yourself stupid while your body shakes uncontrollably. Your clit throbs against his tummy and your pussy convulses around his huge cock and yet you can’t stop. You don’t want to stop. 
“Please”, Jungkook sobs, “please, please I wanna cum, please.”
“Not yet, I’m not done”, you croak, lifting your head to stare at him. His hair is just as messy and wet as yours is. You are fucking so hard that it’s hard not to sweat. It’s hot. He looks so good when his skin glistens. He thinks the same about you, looking up at you with teary eyes and his cock throbbing deep inside you. The connection burns him alive. To share such a messy, private state with you in this golden lit, warm room feels like a dream to him. He tugs on your hips. 
“Please I wanna cum in you”, he begs. 
“And get all sensitive? You’re better off like this.”
“No, I’m not”, he whimpers, giving you puppy eyes.
“Say the word, Kookie. One word and I’ll lift the spell.”
Jungkook sobs, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Kiss me. Please”, he pleads.
“Fuck, Kook. I want you so bad”, you say, squishing his face as you pull him into a kiss. Sloppy tongues and deep moans. You kiss each other as if this was the last moment on earth. 
You sink down on him more. He stretched you well enough that it feels possible now. One more inch. Two more inches. The last inch and your ass connects with his meaty thighs. The impact is audible. Skin slaps against skin, your pussy squelches now that your mixed pleasure gets spread all over his lap. 
Jungkook moans into the kiss. You swallow his sounds and press yourself closer. All he should do is kiss you and give you his big cock. You bounce on him, circling your hips to make sure that not even an inch of you misses out on the ecstatic feeling of being stuffed by him. Jungkook whimpers into the kiss and tugs on your hips again. He wants to both hug you as he loves you like crazy, but he also wants to grip your hips and force them to slow down. He signed a devil’s contract when he allowed you to use magic on him. The pressure in his tummy has become so huge that his legs feel numb. He swears his balls grew twice their size by now, he can’t even comfortably close his legs anymore because it would crush his balls. He begs his body to be stronger than your spell. To cum. To please release him of this pressure. But he can’t. He is at your mercy and it hurts so goddamn wonderfully.
He breaks the kiss just as you break it. He wanted to beg for mercy, but you interrupted him with a high-pitched moan.
“Kookie, this is making me cum”, you confess, rubbing yourself against his abs while his veiny cock was grinding against your g-spot. 
“Don’t stop”, he begs, wanting nothing more than your high, “please don’t stop”, he begs even if his cock feels like bursting. The pressure spreads to his upper tummy as well. Jungkook never tensed his abs as much as he has to right now. But he has to stay strong. You are going to cum and this is more important than finding his own release. 
“Oh god, Kookie, oh god”, you drop your face into the crook of his neck, “oh god baby, holy fuck I’m so filled up with you, oh god now.” 
Your body grows limp and starts shaking. You whimper into his neck, flinching and trembling and convulsing on top of him. You wanted to keep fucking him, but you can’t. This is so much more intense than your first high. Now stuffed with all of his cock and being so close to him, your body is breaking apart under the pleasure. 
“This is so good, please baby please”, Jungkook sobs, chasing your high with harsh thrusts. It shakes you on top of him and makes holding on hard, but it’s a goddamn perfect fucking thing. You are so weak that you can’t move anymore, so having Jungkook take over feels like sweet relief, “it hurts so much, I wanna cum”, Jungkook wails, fangs tickling your skin because of how lost he is. He won’t bite you, but it’s hard to hide his natural state if you fuck him that hard.
“Please cum for me”, you order, lifting the spell with a kiss to his neck. 
Jungkook screams up and breaks. The pressure bursts the second the spell is lifted. Your name is the only thing which he manages to choke out and then all he can do is scream and shake.
“Yes Kookie! Yes! That’s it! Yes!” you encourage him, riding him in sloppy rolls of your hips. Now he is the one who can’t move, while you take over for him.
He cums so hard that your pussy gets too wet and his cock flops out. His creamy seed bursts out of you and covers your ass and his thighs messily. And as you leak uncontrollably, Jungkook keeps cumming, spreading his white pleasure everywhere.
“I can’t stop”, he sobs, “I can’t stop, I can’t stop.”
“That’s my boy, that’s it. Such a good boy”, you praise him, reaching behind yourself to push him back inside.
“___!” Jungkook screams and feels how much harder he cums. It scares him how good it feels. So this is what happens when your magic prevents his body from functioning normally. This is what happens when you finally give him back control. He can’t stop cumming. Jungkook fights the feeling and sobs, burying his face in your shoulder “please make it stop, please.”
“Almost there, baby. Almost there, don’t give up on me”, you talk him through it, bouncing on his throbbing cock to help him ride it out.
“Please make it stop, I can’t stop. Please don’t make me cum- no- again!” he wails, throwing his head back as he cries the hottest tears, “make it s-stop please.”
“Almost there baby, I’m so proud of you. You’re doing so well. I know it’s a lot, but if we stop now you’ll end up with way too much cum still inside you. We have to milk you, yeah?”
“It won’t stop, please I’m s-scared.”
“I’m right here. Almost done, baby. Almost there”, you soothe him, caressing his cheeks as he does the best job of emptying his heavy balls inside you.
"Mistress please make it stop”, he begs.
“I know baby, I know”, you soothe him, pulling his head to you so you can smother his cheeks in kisses, “don’t give up, almost there baby. You’re such a good boy, so good.”
Jungkook wails up one last time. One last time he empties his balls inside you. One last time he dances between the world of the living and the world of the dead. One last time he fights for air and then it finally stops.
His body finally stops spasming, his cock finally stops throbbing and his balls finally feel empty. Every inch of his body gives up. He slacks against the headboard, head rolling to the side and almost slipping off if you hadn’t caught it. You place it on the edge gently, running your fingers through his soaked hair. He is barely breathing, dripping sweat from his face as behind his closed lids, his eyes don’t seem to stop racing.
“Good job, my babyboy”, you praise him, drying the tears from his face.
Jungkook doesn’t respond, he merely lets his head slack into your hand and then gravity drags his torso down resulting in his head getting bent into an uncomfortable position.
“Careful, hey my honey”, you giggle, placing your arms around him so you can pull him against your chest.
Jungkook falls into you like a limp ragdoll, his head bounces against your shoulder, knocking a barely there sound out of him.
“Kookie, are you okay?” you ask him, caressing his back.
He doesn’t move. He can’t move. Almost as if he was paralysed. Oh. Everything falls into place. This is the result of a Ripper high. You actually made him cum so hard that it equaled the intensity of a Ripper high. Jungkook is actually paralysed because you made him cum too fucking hard.
“You’re doing so well, my babyboy”, you praise him, slipping off of his cock to make it easier for him to come back to you.
He whimpers softly.
“Sorry, I know that was a lot”, you say, ignoring the feeling of you leaking his cum. It’s so much and doesn’t want to stop, “but you’re safe with me. I’m right here, babyboy.”
You run your fingers over his back.
“Take your time, Kookie. I’m not going anywhere”, you whisper, hugging him against your chest and running your fingers through his soaked hair. It’s covered in sweat. You feel as hot as he does. You came so goddamn hard right now. You rest your chin on his shoulder and let your head fall against his’, “I’m so done. This was the most intense orgasm ever”, you say and close your eyes, falling into the blissful feeling of recovering with him together. You keep leaking as you do, but you try to ignore it for now.
The first thing Jungkook manages to move are his arms. They fall around your waist and keep you close.
“Hey there”, you whisper.
“Hey”, he croaks.
“That was something, wasn’t it?”
He nods his head, giving you a soft squeeze.
“I’m still leaking”, you say and giggle.
When Jungkook doesn’t laugh with you, you lift your head in worry. He raises his head, looking at you with teary eyes.
“Hey Kookie, are you okay?” you gasp, cupping his cheeks.
“Thank you”, he chokes out, cradling your face between his weak hands, “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, my honey”, you say, closing the distance between you and him until your foreheads touch.
“Thank you”, he whispers, “thank you, thank you, thank you.”
You chuckle, kissing the slope of his nose.
“You’re so polite.”
“I’m in your debt.”
You snicker, “no you’re not. You deserved this.”
“I was so scared.”
“I know, but I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you.”
“I know, I was so scared but it felt so good. I, I don’t feel horny anymore.”
“Hah”, you laugh softly, “good to know that this is what it takes for you to stop being needy.”
“Yeah”, he chuckles, “I’m still gonna give you lots of orgasms on this trip.”
“Oh really? Well, that’s good to know”, you tease, ruffling his wet hair, “how about we take a shower first and get something to eat? And then spend more time at the beach? It’s a nice day, we should do something other than just fuck.”
“Why? We haven’t been able to do this for so long. Just you and I. It’s new to us.”
“Yeah, it’s so nice.”
“It’s paradise.”
“It really is.”
“I want to pinch myself, because I keep thinking that it’s not real.”
“It’s real, my sweetie.”
“I can’t believe it. This is real. You're with me and I actually know how to control myself.”
“After just three years of training that is.”
Jungkook smiles, “I can’t believe that this is real.”
“Me neither, but it is. And I’m so proud of you. So fucking proud.”
Jungkook lifts his head and flashes you a bright smile.
“Oh ___”, he says, swooping you off his lap so he could roll in the sheets with you, “I love you so much.”
“Careful Kookie, I’m leaking”, you laugh, trying your hardest to close your legs.
“Sorry, god”, he laughs, pressing his knee against your pussy “I don’t know what happened. It was so much cum.”
“Yeah it was. That’s so hot”, you say and give him a fond grin.
Jungkook retorts it, caressing your butt.
“You even tensed up at the end, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I honestly felt like I wouldn’t come back. How the fuck did you give me a Ripper high without blood?”
You snicker, “witchy talent.”
“You’re seriously so hot. Thank fuck you discovered your powers.” 
“Yeah, seriously”, you agree and snicker, “you think that Yoongi would be down to get this done to him?”
Jungkook’s eyes light up.
“He’ll pretend that he isn’t but yeah a hundred percent. I think he’d marry you on the spot if you gave him a Ripper high without the blood.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, hell yeah. Fuck, I wanna marry you on the spot for doing that to me. Like oh my god, be my wife please”, Jungkook says, making you laugh. 
“Mhm, fine”, you giggle, “we can all be married”, you joke, snickering happily. 
Jungkook laughs with you, running his hand up and down your leg. 
“Deal.”
“Mhm, best deal.”
“Yeah”, he smiles, “hey, do you want to wash each other?” he suggests, “I promise I won’t get horny again, I just want to be close to you.”
“Do you think that the shower is going fit us both?”
“I don’t know, we could try.”
“We could. I would love to take a shower with you, sweets”, you tell him, “and if it won’t fit, we could run down to the beach and jump into the water.”
“Yeah totally”, he giggles.
You will share a lovely day with him. It will be filled with yummy food, intimate conversations, sweet kisses and way too much fun at the beach. And later that night he makes good on his promises and you share yet another blissful moment with each other.
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emilybeemartin · 3 months
Text
A whopping, like, 2.6 people have expressed interest in my recent adventures in watching Bean films, which is all the encouragement I need to present to you:
An Incomplete Guide to Sean Bean Roles (Investigation Ongoing)
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Our guy has a vast filmography, and I'm not even close to being halfway through it, but I've watched a lot of his significant ones in the past few weeks thanks to a perfect storm of illness, injury, and lapses in client work. Crucially, I have created superlatives for a variety of them and present them here for your benefit. Disclaimer: many of these films are violent! Or have butts and/or tits! Some have dick! Some have dated bits that didn't age well! So, if you have triggers or are watching with young viewers, do your research first! Also, these are just the opinions of one solitary millennial! Nothing is objective! Nothing is real! I care not!
Okay, CYA done, let's begin. I'll get the two most obvious ones out of the way up front, otherwise they'll dominate half the categories:
ACT I
Greatest Bean: Fellowship of the Ring. I've said it before and I'll say it again, he achieved more pathos with Boromir than a lot of his other roles have allowed for, and every note he hits just sings. No debate.
Best Bean for Your Buck: Sharpe. For the best confluence of quantity, quality, physicality, emotion, humor, and action, you can't beat Richard Sharpe.
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Favorite Dramatic Bean: Time; he earned that BAFTA fr
Softest Bean: The first date scene in Stormy Monday, where Brendan shyly gets to know Kate, slow dances with her, lends her a shirt and strokes her back after she asks if they can just go to sleep instead of have sex.
Most Dashing Bean: Vronsky in Anna Karenina, that uniform cuts, damn
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Swooniest Bean: I know I'm supposed to say Chatterley, and he is undeniably sexy as Mellors, but there are parts where his character is actually kind of off-putting. I'll lay a good chunk of the blame on the weirdly ominous score, the very of-the-time depiction of dubious consent, and Joely Richardson's tendency to look like she's having the worst time of her life while shagging the hot gamekeeper. No, I'm giving this category to Stormy Monday again. He's just so gentle and genuine in this one, without some of the obligatory "heartthrob" overtones of his nineties stuff. He never raises his voice at Kate or manhandles her. He really does feel like some kid who just wants to be sweet to his girlfriend.
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Laddiest Bean: When Saturday Comes, specifically the strip club and bathtub scenes.
Favorite Sad Bean: As a collective, he has some great grief scenes in World on Fire, but! The railroad track scene in When Saturday Comes?! That was RAW.
Favorite Mad Bean: Black Death; there are plenty of movies where he doesn't smile at all, but unlike some others, his grimness and anger felt proportionate to the story, rather than just rage because he's good at rage.
Favorite Bad Bean: There are so many great Bean villains (Goldeneye, obvs), but I think my favorite is Patriot Games. Bonus points for all the different hairstyles he has in this film (long locks-shag-shag ponytail!-buzz-wet spiky buzz). Also HUGH FRASER AAAA
Favorite Dad Bean: Wolfwalkers, where Bill Goodfellowe literally turns his own convictions and beliefs upside-down in order to protect and support his daughter.
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INTERMISSION
A note on GoT: I haven't watched it. When season one was first coming out, it was during a time where I really couldn't handle watching any kind of sexual assault onscreen, and while I have a higher tolerance now, I just... don't want to. I like seeing gifs of Ned Stark and appreciate that it's one of his great roles, but I just can't make myself take the plunge.
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ilysm you grizzled dead wolf man
ACT II
Favorite Costumed Bean: Odysseus in Troy: curls, leather, thighs.
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Favorite Un-Costumed Bean: He strips in quite a lot of his films, so let's give it to Lady Chatterley for sheer screentime, exertion, and the bonus of being naked and wearing a flower crown. Honorable mention to When Saturday Comes for the totally not homoerotic amount of butts and also dick in the locker room bathtub scene.
Hurtin'est Bean: Bravo Two Zero. Oof, don't watch this one if you have an aversion to seeing pain, although---you're a Sean Bean fan, and we all know one of his MOs is being GREAT at pain. This one was directed by Tom Clegg, who directed Sharpe. Also lol at the sickle-shaped wound on his shoulder, which is covering his 100% Blade tattoo (he gets a lot of sickle-shaped wounds on his left shoulder).
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Best Inside References: The Frankenstein Chronicles, where he plays a former Peninsular soldier, and every reference to his service is a reference to Sharpe, including shots of his greenjacket, pistol, sword, and flogging scars. Honorable mention to The Martian for the Council of Elrond line.
Most Unsettling Bean: Cleanskin for moral grayness, The Frankenstein Chronicles for body horror
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Most Inefficient Use of Bean: Black Beauty. Despite getting high billing he's only onscreen for about two minutes and I'm convinced the long shots are a body double. Criminal.
Biggest Missed Opportunity: We were robbed of a Sean Bean Odyssey. R o b b e d
Funniest Bean: Deploying Bean for comedy is woefully underused, but he made full use of his ~15 seconds in The Vicar of Dibley ("Spring" episode). He's also hilarious in Wasted, though I haven't watched the show, only the clips he's in on YouTube, where he plays a mock version of himself serving as a spirit guide for a stoner. IMO, though, Sharpe gives him the most room for humor.
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Favorite Character Quirk: In World on Fire, when Douglas is having WWI flashbacks and really coming apart, he kept putting his hand to his mouth. My modern brain first read this as talking into a phantom radio, but of course that wasn't right, and then I realized--he was reaching for a phantom gas mask. CHILLS. AMAZING. (Honorable mentions to the Mouth Rub and the Tongue Thing [pictured above]).
Most Nostalgic Bean: National Treasure. The concept may be utter silliness, but you have to admit, this is a fun movie to watch.
Best Dismount from a Horse: Henry VIII, he goes pshwing out of the saddle
Best Swordplay: You may think there's no possible answer to this, but there is---two moments, specifically: the preparatory sword-spin he does at Balin's tomb just before the goblin attack in Moria, and the four lunges he does at 1:26:22 of Sharpe's Battle. It's just facts.
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Prettiest Bean Film: Wolfwalkers, hands downnnn
Favorite Bean Death: All right, you knew we had to eventually end here. It's Boromir, obviously--- nothing tops that. But if we're looking at other roles, I think Patriot Games is my favorite, followed by Goldeneye.
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So! That concludes this installment of Bean films, though I'll be continuing the labor, and I hope you will, too. What are your favorites?
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mazeinthemiroh · 11 months
Note
Soft thought; skz with a shy and introverted s/o? 🥺 lllike I think
Like I think it’d be so cute and adorable 💓
stray kids with a shy s/o
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genre: fluffy af
warnings: none
please like and reblog if you enjoy <3
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chan
thinks your adorable
lowkey likes to make you flustered
squishes your cheeks 24/7
supports you in social situations
encourages you to interact with different people but doesn't push you out of your comfort zone
very loving and attentive to your needs
minho
teases you
has a triumphant smirk on his face when he makes you flustered
and making flustered is very much a goal for him
but even with all this teasing, he sticks with you in most social situations
claiming it's to support you but really he needs you jsut as much as you need him
changbin
protective
loud about his love for you
always has an arm around you
or a hand touching you in some way
to give you some physical reassurance in social situations if you're uncomfortable or anything
thinks your adorand babies you in private <3333
hyunjin
enjoys the comfortable silences you share
lowkey protective of you, looking out for you when needed
plays with your hair in public
can sense when you're feeling overwhelmed and need him to be with you or not
can't help but coo over you when you blush at his romantic tendencies
jisung
he's your comfort person
very attentive
does cringy aegyo to make you laugh to distract you when you're in a busy setting
sticks by your side in social situations
"hey, wanna get out of here?"
he knows when you're at your limit and is adaptable to your needs
felix
is a little bit of a shy bean himself :))
but he takes the role of taking care of you because he knows your shyer than him
and he thinks it's adorable
just so find of you
gives you a lot of cuddles and physical reassurance in general, no matter what situation
seungmin
your on the shy side and he's on the quieter side
so comfortable silences are often shared between he two of you
he enjoys your peaceful company and you find comfort in him
he doesn't stress or overwhelm you in every way
so doesn't take advantage of your shyness
jeongin
teases you a little for your shyness
when you blush over something he has said, he will poke your cheeks cutely
which makes you blush even more
but if anyone makes you uncomfortable or takes advantage of you in anyway, he's ready to throw hands
your no. 1 defender!
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myfictionaldreams · 1 year
Note
Hey, can you do something with where the reader is pregnant in mafia stucky and Bucky and Steve are super protective about her?
Xoxo
Our Little Bean // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader
A/N: Thank you for your request, this has been requested quite a few times by many people so I hope you do enjoy!
Important note for readers: I'm currently working within maternity services within the UK so the pregnancy side of this is all based on a UK perspective but it's set in the US so apologies if anything is different over there. Also, the signs and symptoms are based on my bestie's pregnancy so thank you for letting me use these!
ALSO: I'm sorry if I don't do any more pregnancy/baby fics, I wanted to just do this one and return to the normal trio we had before.
Tags: 18+ readers only, unplanned pregnancy, fluff (LOTS!), comfort, soft steve/bucky, protectiveness, pregnancy kink, pet names, pregnancy symptoms discussed in detail, crying, family/domestic fluff, tooth-rotting goodness!
Words: 6.9k
my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link
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Your nausea never seemed to settle, barely being able to keep down dry toast or sips of water and then there was the immense exhaustion, finding yourself to be lucky if you were awake for an hour before falling asleep again. This, paired with the dizzy spells and dull aches in your temples, it was safe to say that you were done with feeling unwell and you definitely blamed Sam Wilson for this. He’d turned up to work last week feeling unwell, slightly different symptoms to yours as he had a head cold but ill nonetheless and now, here you were, collapsed onto the couch in the living room, under a mount of blankets.
It wasn’t all bad however as Bucky had stayed home to look after you and he was doing a good job of it too, but he and Steve were always extra attentive when you were unwell and had been taking it in turns to stay home, with Steve having stayed with you yesterday.
Bucky today had helped you wash, changed into fresh pyjamas and then carried downstairs, tucking you into your little fort before sitting on the floor and reading the book you were halfway through reading. You were too tired to read and didn’t want to keep your eyes open so Bucky offered, which was hilarious to hear him trying to read along and then asking questions as to the type of books you’ve been reading.
“So who is this Rhysand guy? Just some hotshot king or something?” he asked, lowering the book to look at your resting face. You smiled tiredly at his question, opening one eye to look into his confused expression, he was already invested in your book, even though he had started more than halfway through.
“Something like that”, you replied, voice croaking from needing water which he was quick to notice, lifting the glass with the straw to your mouth and you hummed your thanks, taking a sip and closing your eye once more.
You fell back to sleep again and woke to be carried, noticing that it was dark outside with another day passing as Steve carried you up the stairs, having returned home from work. Your arms were trapped into the blanket cocooned you were being carried in so you nuzzled your face into his neck to let him know you were awake.
Steve tilted his head, kissing the top of yours as he placed you into the centre of your shared bed, “think you’re up for eating some chicken noodle soup?”
“Did you make it?”, your voice was full of hope as you blinked open your eyes to look up at him but made no attempt to move just yet.
“Of course, only the best for you”. Steve left to retrieve your soup, giving you time for another quick snooze, before he was back and shaking your shoulders. With his help, you untangled yourself from the soft blankets and attempted to sit up but were hit with a wave of dizziness, having to stop and close your eyes to get your bearings straight before it subsided and you could sit up properly. Steve was looking at you with a knowing glance as he sat on the edge of the bed, a warm noodle soup bowl in his lap that he began to spoon-feed you - something he insisted on. “You know I’m going to call the doctor, right?”
You release a frustrated huff, you didn’t need the doctor, “It’s fine though, it’ll pass. Sam said it took him 4 days before he started to feel better and I’m only on day 3”.
“Baby, you’re on day 4 and you said this all yesterday and it’s only getting worse”, he stated everything matter-of-factly but you were still shocked that you’d somehow missed an entire day. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to see a doctor and there was no use arguing with Steve when it came to your health.
So after you’d finished half a bowl of the soup before feeling queasy, Steve excused himself to call his doctor who just so happened to be a close family friend. Of course, you had fallen asleep before the Doctor arrived and being rudely awakened made you feel even more groggy and unwell as Steve whispered, “Sorry honey, but Doctor Banner’s here to check you over”.
Steve excused himself so the Doctor could check you over properly without feeling pressured by the mafia boss in the room. Doctor Banner put you at ease though with his warming personality and you’d met him on a few occasions anyway when Steve or Bucky were more injured through an event with work, but you’d never had him look after you before.
The two of you ran through the general list, ‘When did you start feeling like this?’, ‘What are your symptoms?’, before he began doing your vital signs, temperature and blood pressure, all just normal procedures.
“Could you be pregnant?” he casually asked as he velcroed the blood pressure cuff from your arm.
Frowning you answered, “Um no…no, I’m on birth control, so I shouldn’t be”.
“Do you mind if we do a quick test just to tick it off of the list? All you need to do is pee in this cup and I’ll dip a test strip into it”.
You wobbled to the toilet on unsteady feet, realising this is probably the first time you’d properly walked in days because the boys insisted on carrying you everywhere. As you used the toilet, you didn’t think anything of the test, leaving the cup on the side for the doctor and returning back to bed, wondering if he’s going to give you some antibiotics or just see how you get on over the next few days.
After a few minutes, your eyes were closed but you could hear the Doctor returning so you asked, “So, do you think it’s just the flu like I said-”
“It’s not the flu, your test was positive”.
Your eyes snap open to look at him, sitting up and feeling dizzy but ignoring it, “what? What do you mean it’s positive?”
Doctor Bruce held up the little white strip that had two purple lines on it. You looked between the test and his face as he calmly smiled, “You’re pregnant”.
“What if the test is wrong? Can we do it again?” Thankfully he didn’t fight you on this and gave you the packet of tests, you grabbed two and stumbled back to the bathroom. Both strips gave the exact result and now it felt like your heart was coming out of your mouth it was pounding so hard and loudly in your ears.
“Take a deep breath for me”, Doctor Banner calmly instructed as he placed a steady hand on your back in case you needed extra support. You took a few deep breaths, not even realising that you had been holding your breath. Gripping onto the bathroom side, you began to feel dizzy again so he helped you back to bed waiting until you were settled before continuing.
“This explains your symptoms, I’d say you were in your early stages of pregnancy so we’ll book an appointment with the midwife tomorrow and sort out things like a scan. You may feel that your symptoms get worse over the next few weeks and if they do, you can always call me back but otherwise, stay rested and take it easy”.
You were only half listening. Midwife? Scans? Symptoms getting worse? There was so much for your brain to process. There was an actual baby inside of your body right now, a part of you and… who? Your anxiety was increasing with each second as you tried to let the words sink in as the Doctor packed his stuff away. Did you want to have a baby right now? You had always wanted kids but were you even ready at this stage of your life but then again… was anyone ready for a baby when they were accidentally knocked up?
Then the knocked-up by who question echoed through your thoughts. You obviously didn’t know if the baby was Steve's or Bucky’s, so would they be upset about this? If it was planned at least there could be some way you could arrange who to have sex with to know for sure but now… you were all in the dark about the paternity. You didn’t care if it was Steve or Bucky, you were always a trio in every sense of the word but now that this was your reality, would they be pissed off? And were they even ready for kids? The business took so much of their time and was still very dangerous but this was bound to happen eventually as you all wanted children.
Bucky and Steve had always been very open that they wanted kids, especially Bucky with his affection name for you being ‘mama’, he often would talk about his fantasy of seeing you barefoot and pregnant with his kid. So, at least you knew they were on the same page about wanting to have children but now it was the stress of is now the right time and who was the father of the baby?
You were vaguely aware of the Doctor bidding his farewells, “I’ll speak to you tomorrow and I’ll let you tell your partners the good news”. You offered a half-assed wave to him as he left, before staring at your hands in your lap, completely petrified for the next few minutes.
Steve and Bucky wandered in a few beats later, sitting on either side of you on the bed but you couldn’t look them in the eye, trying desperately to hold it together.
“Everything ok, Doll? The Doc didn’t tell us what was wrong, just said you would explain”, Bucky asked, stroking a finger down your arm to try and soothe you but it was enough to make you break.
You burst into tears, hiding your face in your hands.
“Honey? What is it? Talk to us”, Steve encouraged, attempting to pull your hands away from  your face but you held them there tightly so instead, he pulled your body into his lap, your legs over his thighs so that you could hide your face into his chest, the sobs building in intensity and everything was just so overwhelming. You were excited, scared, relieved but nervous, it was a lot to handle.
Steve and Bucky encouraged you to talk to them both, becoming more unsettled with your increasing hysterics. It took a few minutes to calm down, and it helped as Bucky held both your hands, rubbing circles into your skin and Steve wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you close to his body. You decided it was better to just tell them than keep it to yourself any longer.
With your face still pressed into Steve’s face, you whispered “I’m pregnant”, however, it was so muffled and quiet that neither man heard you.
“What was that sweetheart?”, Steve asked, trying to pull you away enough that both men could see your tear-stained face.
The words sounded strange coming from your mouth as you kept your head hanging lowly, mumbling, “I’m pregnant”.
You knew that they had heard this time by the way both completely froze, not even breathing as they processed the news. Bucky finally whispered, “What?”
You still couldn’t look at him, scared you’d see disappointment or anger in his eyes.
“Are you sure?” Steve asked in such a faint voice you were shocked it was even from him.
Nodding your head at his question you explained, “We checked a couple of times, he thinks I’m still in my early pregnancy but-ah!”
You jumped as Bucky all but tackled you and Steve, his lips kissing every part of your face that he could reach and when he pulled back enough to cup your cheeks, you took in the glowing grin on his face, his eyes twinkling with love as he shouted, “you’re pregnant! We’re having a baby!”
Steve then seemed to snap out of his initial shock and his arms tightened and lifted your body further up so he could kiss your face just as happily as Bucky before nuzzling into your neck, breathing you in, “I love you so much sweetheart, I can’t believe it! Wait, why were you crying, are you not excited?”
He relaxed his hold on you so that they could both see you properly and you had room to look at them both. “I... I am excited! I just wasn’t sure how you would both react as I don’t know which of you is the dad-”
Bucky leans across and kisses your lips quickly cutting off your sentence, the grin still broad across his face, “I don’t fucking care, if the baby has my genes or Steve’s, we’re all in this together, remember? That’s what we’ve agreed on”.
“So you aren’t upset?” you wanted to clarify.
“Fuck no hot mama… and you’re actually going to be a mama! This little bean is ours, all of ours!”
You were crying again with relief, “you really mean that?”
His eyes softened, kissing the corner of your mouth, “Of course I do”.
“We both mean it, I… I can’t believe it, I’ve always wanted to be a Dad”, Steve admitted, kissing your temple and as you looked up, you could see his eyes glistening with unshed tears which only made you smile and cry harder.
Steve made the move first, lowering his hand over your abdomen, resting over your stomach where there was no bump yet but knowing there was something growing inside you, he couldn’t help the relieved gasp. Bucky was quick to cover his hand and yours on the top so the three of you were feeling where the baby would be. “I can’t believe we’re going to be parents!”
The next few days were a whirlwind of excitement and unimaginable joy whilst also still feeling relatively unwell, especially feeling more exhausted as you wanted to buy every pregnancy book and read them all but soon fell asleep with it open in your lap.
Then there was Steve and Bucky who could not contain their excitement, going above and beyond for you, especially with you still feeling ill. They would cook and feed you, if you were too tired, refill your glasses of water, constantly ask if you were comfortable and more than happy to fetch another pillow if needed. Not only this, but their levels of affection had increased massively, whispering their love for you at any opportunity, holding your hands, and lots of kisses, it was so nice to feel this level of love when going through such a life-changing experience.
Both of them had been just as motivated to read about pregnancy, birth, babies, and the whole lot from A to Z, they researched everything that was possible and then gave you the rundown on what your bodily changes would be including what you couldn’t eat, vowing to not eat the same items until you could which you didn’t seem necessary but appreciated the gesture.
Then there was the excitement of going to the Midwife’s appointment and it all became so much more real again, especially being able to book the ultrasound scan. This was where you found out that you were 8 weeks and 3 days and the entire world seemed to pause around the three of you as you watched your baby's tiny heartbeat on the screen.
To say you all cried was an understatement, all of you not taking your eyes off of the scan picture that was provided, the little bean was so tiny, only just being able to tell the outline of its arms and legs. Now it felt official. You, Steve and Bucky were going to have a baby.
Many things changed including protection that increased tenfold. Security around your home doubled and you had not only Sam Wilson as your bodyguard but also Natasha. Not only this but if you attending the business or in public, Steve and Bucky would crowd around you, almost like a human shield, their overprotective instincts on overdrive, even from people who were just at the check-outs in stores. Sam and Natasha were confused by the sudden dynamic intensity and it was hard to keep it all a secret but you had all decided to wait just a little while longer and continue with your unknown illness excuse just until the baby had grown a little bit bigger.
This was something else that you had to get used to with adjusting to the many bodily changes you were going through to adapt to growing this baby. A few days following the scan, you’d come downstairs to Steve cooking you scrambled eggs which were your usual favourite breakfast but as soon as you smelt those cooking eggs, you were gagging and rushing to the toilet, throwing up violently.
Your eyes were watering as you finally stopped emptying your stomach but still gagging as you could smell the lingering eggs in the air. A warm hand rubbed circles over your back, Steve’s apologetic voice came from behind you, “Sorry, baby. No more eggs”.
This was the first instance of vomiting and it wasn’t just eggs, as every single day you would be throwing up and then feeling extremely tired afterwards that you weren’t able to do much throughout the day but be with your head in the toilet or lying in bed. The boys were almost glued to your side during this time, worried that you weren’t keeping enough food or drinks down and even had to call Doctor Banner back just to check you weren’t too dehydrated.
Thankfully you hadn’t needed to go into hospital as your vomiting subsided but the nausea remained for a while.
“You sure she’s ok? She’s looking a little peaky,” Sam commented to Steve one day as he came to help guard the house and was having his lunch with you all but he took one look at you and knew something wasn’t right, even as you forced the sandwich into your mouth, making sure to still eat for you and baby… not that Sam knew about the baby.
“Yeah, she’s fine Sam, thanks for checking though and we appreciate the extra hours you’re doing”, Steve responded with a thankful grip on his friend's shoulder.
“It’s no problem man, just worried for her that’s all, don’t really understand what’s going on with you all, especially with the extra security and whatnot and I feel like I’ve hardly spoken to her for a few weeks now. Just want you to know I’m always here if you ever need anything”.
You felt guilty when Steve later told you what Sam had said, feeling bad that you were keeping it secret but it was only for a few more weeks.
Luckily, you had found the special trick to help your nausea as suggested by a friend: lavender! After sitting with a bag of dried lavender for a couple of hours and not feeling nauseous, Steve and Bucky were quick to fill the entire house with lavender-scented items including candles and sprays, even having some in the car and it helped to settle your nausea massively.
But, as soon as one symptom passed, another would be replacing the uncomfortable feeling. The next was your breasts becoming incredibly painful and sore, even if you accidentally knocked them when putting on a bra or rolling over in your sleep, it was agony. Your boyfriends were even more careful with you during this phase, getting ice to hold against them during particularly painful moments and being careful to give you enough room when asleep.
A couple of weeks later was the first day you noticed the little bean kicking, at first it felt like maybe gas, almost like there were butterflies fluttering in your tummy but then you finally realised what it was. The feeling grew stronger with each day as well as the size of your growing stomach which was something Steve and Bucky were going absolutely feral for. They would take pictures each week to show your progression and would constantly be placing their hands on your stomach, even if the bump wasn’t that noticeable just yet.
The midwife recommended talking to the baby at one point so every night, you would sit with a shirt off and Steve and Bucky would lie on either side of you, taking it in turns to tell stories, sing their favourite songs and lay sweet kisses along the growing bump. One day, Bucky was telling the little bean about the time he and Steve snuck into a movie theatre when the skin under his cheek poked out as the baby kicked him in the face. Bucky sat up with excitement, it being the first time he had properly felt the baby move as he cooed, “there's our strong baby, good job little bean!”
“You hit the right dad as well”, Steve joked causing Bucky to smack him in the shoulder.
“Don’t listen to Dad, listen to Pops, I’m right here to make everything’s ok”, Bucky continued to speak sweetly to your stomach.
Your heart swelled at the difference in names that he had seemed to pick, “is that what you’d like to be called?” you asked them both, stroking a finger across each of their cheeks, feeling the stubble beneath.
“It’s perfect”, Steve beamed, kissing your stomach again.
Now it was your 20-week scan, Baby was so much bigger, you couldn’t believe the difference those weeks had made since the last scan. Now it was really starting to look like a baby with longer limbs and you were even able to find out the gender, however, you had wanted to wait to find out, liking the thought of it being announced at the birth.
With these beautiful new prints of the scans, you finally wanted to tell people, beginning with your closest friends.
It was a casual lunchtime meal at the office. You sat at the large table in between Steve and Bucky, with Sam and Natasha sitting opposite, all idly talking and eating the take-out that Steve had bought. However you had opted for a different meal: 4 packs of salt and vinegar chips and a tub of tomatoes - both were your latest cravings.
Sam eyed your food wearily, “Interesting mix you’ve got there, boss lady?”
Your only response was smiling with your cheeks full of tomatoes as Bucky placed his hand over your thigh. You knew he wanted to put his hand on your stomach but you hadn’t told either of the people across the table just yet and even though your bump was starting to become noticeable now, you were trying to hide it behind baggy shirts but even that was becoming difficult. You were in desperate need of some new trousers as well as the button was digging into your skin as you shifted uncomfortably, looking at each of your boys, feeling antsy with excitement as well.
“Can we tell them? I really need to take off my trousers, I’m feeling really claustrophobic”.
Sam frowned at your random sentence, confused by what you meant however it was Natasha’s reaction that sparked your interest as she smirked, leaning back in her chair with a tilt of the head. You looked at her with a gaped-open mouth, pointing your finger at her, “You already know! Who told her?” you asked, looking between Bucky and Steve.
“Wasn’t me”, they both responded at the same time, holding up their hands as you eyed them both suspiciously.
Natasha leaned forward in her chair, “did you really think that I wouldn’t notice? I’m offended Sugar, it’s in my job description to be observant. In fact, you should be asking if Sam is right to keep this job if he can’t notice something this obvious”, she teased the man sitting next to her who still looked just as confused as before.
You laugh at Sam’s reaction, looking to Steve who handed you the sealed cards. You happily took them, standing from your chair and feeling Bucky’s hand on your lower back to help and then walked around the table, giving them both a card each. It wasn’t anything special or elaborate, but it had a picture of the latest scan with the statement: “Update to your job title; bodyguard & uncle/auntie”.
You’d never heard the high-pitched tone from Sam ever before as he quickly stood, his chair squeaking across the floor as he shouted, “What?!” He turned to you, looking between you, the picture and Steve and Bucky, “Really?!”
You pulled the back of your shirt so the material was tight to your front, showing off your growing bump, grinning as he shouted “Congratulations!”, before pulling you into a huge hug, careful of your belly but rocking the two of you on the spot a few times and kissing your temple, “I can’t believe I’m going to be an uncle again!”
Sam was then pushed aside, giving room for Natasha, “Move it, Wilson, I want to meet my niece or nephew”, Sam didn’t mind being moved as he rushed around to embrace Steve and Bucky.
Natasha hugged you tightly, and you were able to ask, “How long have you known?”
“A couple of weeks, you aren’t as subtle as you think at hiding things. I mean, you’ve hardly been awake enough to have a conversation, this is the most lively I’ve seen you in nearly a month. And that's without the new obsessive protecting from Steve and Bucky, how they’re always touching you and the weird food you’re eating, it’s more noticeable than you think it is”. She pulls back to put her hands on your growing bump, “how many weeks are you?”
“20 weeks and 5 days, I can feel the little bean moving more with each day, I feel so big already and I’m not even showing that much considering I’m only halfway through my pregnancy”. Natasha grinned hearing this, looking at your little bump. “Now you both know, I can take off my pants without being judged”, you groaned as you undid your jeans button, utter relief when they were completely removed from your body and felt free, your shirt was long enough that it stopped mid-thigh so you weren’t too unmodest.
Bucky had snuck behind you, his arms wrapping around to rest on your stomach as he kissed your cheek. Natasha smiled watching the embrace as she remarked, “Guess you got what you wanted all along Barnes, now you can call her mama and she actually is one”.
“Mmm absolutely”, Bucky nuzzled into your neck, the sensation making you laugh as it tickled, turning to shy away from his attack but he only held you tighter until you melted into his arms.
Steve and Sam joined your little gathering and Sam jokingly asked, “So if the baby’s a boy, can we name him Sam?”
You were so thankful for the news being out, especially as this meant that you could go baby clothes shopping with Sam and Natasha, finding little outfits that you could surprise your boyfriends with. It was one of the only things you were able to do for them to show your appreciation as they did so much for you throughout your pregnancy.
Your cravings continued to become stronger with each day and often found yourself waking in the middle of the night to find something to quench the craving for something acidic and sour taste you needed so desperately it felt like your world was going to end if you didn’t eat it right then and there. On multiple occasions, Steve or Bucky would come downstairs in the early hours of the morning to find you sitting on the kitchen floor, your belly round and exposed, hating feeling material against your skin, and a scattering of different foods surrounding you, a happy smile on your face.
“You ok down there beautiful?” they would ask with grins that matched yours and with your heightened emotions you would be crying before long, reaching for them to come and sit with you which they would do eagerly, pulling your body in between there legs and kissing away your tears, “don’t cry pretty girl, I’ve got you”.
If you ever run out of your favourite cravings, they would drive to the store and you were buzzing to go along for the ride in the middle of the night, fully awake and ready for the night time adventure only to fall asleep before getting to the store.
Entering into the third trimester, your belly was round and heavy, things for sure were becoming more difficult for you as the little bean grew. There were small excitements still like attending antenatal classes with your boyfriends who were taking their role as dad and pops  very seriously, you’d never seen them concentrate so hard before.
“You’re doing the boss face again”, you whispered to Steve as he correctly wrapped the baby doll in a blanket. Steve's features softened immediately as he sheepishly looked at you from the corner of his eye.
“I’m just trying to concentrate”, he mumbled, eyes returning to looking at the doll, his fingers trembling slightly as he continued wrapping steadily.
Reaching across you grabbed his hands, keeping your voice low to keep the conversation between the two of you, “I’m scared too, but you’re going to be a great dad, Steve, you’ll be ok”.
This was a little pep talk you needed to have with both Bucky and Steve on numerous occasions as they began panicking that this was actually happening and whilst you reminded them there was nothing they could do to take back the growing baby in your belly, it was ok to have nerves, but everything would come to them with time, they needed to stay strong, especially as you were also sort of beginning to lose it.
Your body was really changing to accommodate the growing little bean. Your hands and feet were swollen until your shoes couldn’t fit anymore and god…the heartburn was excruciating, and nearly as painful as the kicks to the ribs. There was never a moment where you weren’t out of breath, even standing to pour cereal into a bowl took all of your energy and you’d be sighing in relief as you sat down. Your hips hurt, your back was in agony, and the pregnancy fun had well and truly finished.
This was where the boys really shined through as they would massage your hands and feet, they would be more then happy to cook or grab anything for you, picking things off of the ground, finding clothes that might fit and then there were their compliments which was one thing keeping you going.
Steve and Bucky could not get enough of seeing you pregnant, “you’re glowing honey, pregnancy suits you so much, my love”. You never felt like you were glowing and would describe yourself instead as a huge, hungry, tired monster but the way the boys looked at you, put those negative thoughts to the back of your mind.
From the moment you woke up to the second sleep would invade your consciousness, they would remind you of their love, needing you to fully comprehend how much they appreciated you growing their baby, you were doing so much for them, putting your body through it, for all of you, for the little bean.
Their words definitely helped when you began to feel needier in more than one way as your hormones caused your arousal to be one-minute non-existence and the next feeling nearly overwhelmed with how badly you needed to touch them and be touched. Thankfully with how obsessed they were with you during your pregnancy, they were more than happy to deliver. Hands would be all over, their lips leaving words of affirmation against your warm skin, being careful not to be to rough and more than happy if you wanted to take control and do whatever you wanted to them.
You had to be honest and say you never felt more loved up before. Even with the gang still in full operation, they were able to look after you as their number one priority, even through your emotional breakdowns, or weird pregnancy habits that had you thinking you were slightly insane but they never judged once.
For example, towards the end of your pregnancy, you had a completely immense craving to chew on your bath sponge every time you sat in the large bathtub. So when one day Steve walked in with a freshly warmed-up towel and caught you mid-chew with staring eyes, you expected his reaction to being anything but a soft smile, “You having fun in there, baby?”
Pulling the sponge out of your mouth slowly you nervously answered, “I uh… I don’t really know how to explain…”
Steve held up a hand, “You don’t have to explain anything, whatever makes you happy and I think I’ve read in a book that sometimes pregnant women can have cravings like this, whatever makes you happy”.
As your due date closened, you sat in the centre of the large bed, watching Bucky shuffle his way through your clothes, trying to find the right things to pack for your hospital bag. “What about this?” he asked, holding up a pair of your normal jeans.
“They haven’t fit me in four months, Bucky”, you laughed, shaking your head. “I need pyjamas or baggy shirts, things that can be easily taken on and off, maybe you should just leave Steve to do it”, you suggested whilst holding out your arms.
Bucky shrugged, dropping the jeans and jumping onto the bed, making you squeal with the bed moving up and down before he had his hands against your bump, kissing the tip of your nose. “Not long until we meet you little bean”, he was rewarded with a kick against his metal palm that had you wincing. “Hello baby, I love feeling you kick so much but be gentle to Mama she’s doing such a good job with keeping you safe”, he leaned down to kiss your belly as your fingers delved into his hair.
“It’s ready!”, Steve shouted from another room, catching both of your attention. Bucky jumped up first and then helped you to stand, keeping his hand on your lower back as you wobbled to the spare room that Steve and Bucky had been decorating as the nursery. It was something you had left them in charge of organising, not having the energy over the last nine months to even think about decorating and Steve and Bucky were more than excited to take on the job and so far had kept it secret from your prying eyes.
As you looked around the room, tears swelled in your eyes instantly, reaching to hold onto Steve and Bucky, praising, “It’s perfect!”. There was a beautiful baby cot, pictures of the three of you surrounding the ultrasound scan photograph on the wall, a painting you knew Steve had done, and a rocking chair in the corner that Bucky had claimed as his for the night feeds he’d volunteered himself for.
Now it was all just a waiting game.
“You’re doing it again”, Bucky commented from where he stood in the entryway to your home having returned from the office a few days later.
“No, I’m not, I’m just cleaning-”.
“Nesting… You’re nesting, Doll”, Bucky reminded you, taking away the cloth from your hands and throwing it to the side so he could hold your shoulders and kiss your temple. “Go and rest, you’ve only got a few days left!”
You roll your eyes as you leaned into his warmth, your bump touching him first as you hugged around his chest, “Bucky most babies aren’t born on their due dates you know, I just want to make sure everything is perfect around the house and ready”.
“Everything IS perfect, please just rest”. You relented to him, feeling tired already from the ten minutes of standing, moving to sit on the couch when a period cramp suddenly began in your lower abdomen, causing you to scrunch your face up in pain, especially as it was followed by a large kick to the ribs.
“Woah, are you ok?” Bucky asked, his hand cupping your cheek.
“Yeah, probably Braxton hicks or something, it’s fine”, you say, finally sitting down and putting your feet on the small table. Bucky didn’t seem convinced and continued to be a mother hen throughout the rest of the night, even though the pains subsided after you had a nice warm bath.
As your due date came and went, you were becoming restless, needing the baby out, feeling overwhelmed with how big you felt, wanting to meet the baby and hating waiting around. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried everything either. Eating spicy foods, and going for walks, especially up and down the stairs which was incredibly uncomfortable with how low the little bean’s head was sitting in your pelvis. You’d even had sex a few times, Bucky was more than happy to hear that nipple stimulation could induce labour but still, nothing happened.
Those period cramps would come and go throughout these days as well, getting your hopes up before they disappeared and still, no signs that your labour was even happening. 
On the fourth day following your due date, you awoke suddenly in the middle of the night to another period cramp that started in your lower back and spread around to your front. Even though this felt different,  you didn’t want to wake the boys and get theirs or your hopes up as you tried to slide out of bed without waking them to use the bathroom for what felt like the tenth time that night.
“You ok, baby?” Steve asked, his eyes still closed but his hand reached for you in the darkness.
“Yeah I’m, ok, go back to sleep Steve”, you encouraged, touching the back of his hand before pushing yourself up and waddling to the toilet, using it and then realising just how wide awake you were and the dull ache of the pains still lingered so you decided to run a warm bath. During the time that it was filling up, you had another pain which took longer to subside but this was always how it started with the intensity increasing but after the bath, it usually stopped. 
However, even as you let the warm water settle over your body, easing your muscles but the pains continued but at least the little bean was lovely and happy as he or she gave you a powerful kick to your ribs. The next pain had you gritting your teeth, eyes clenching closed as you held onto the side of the tub, waiting for it to pass but this pain lasted for nearly a full minute, and you decided maybe it was time to take some pain relief.
Standing and awkwardly climbing out of the bath, you dried your body and picked up your night dress to pull over your head when another pain came and took your breath away, your stomach hardening and causing you to moan lowly, bending over to blow the pain away.
“Honey?” Steve shouted from the bathroom having heard your moan as he waited for you to come back to bed. You couldn’t answer him as the pain consumed you, and he was rushing to be by your side, Bucky following closely behind him. Steve rubbed your back slowly as your pain finally began to ease so that you could look up at them both.
“Wow, that one was strong”.
“You ok? Can we get you anything?” Bucky asked, stepping forward with worry etched on his face.
“I’m ok.... I think… I don’t want to get my hopes up that this isn’t contractions but fuck, it hurt like hell”, you muttered, bending over to pick up your dress from the floor and then a trickle of clear liquid dripped down the inside of your leg. All three of you noticed as you tentatively looked up, “Is it bad that I can’t tell if I’ve just wet myself or if that’s my waters…”.
Neither of your worried boyfriends had time to answer as another painful wave came and had you doubling over, leaning your head against the sink. Steve was quick to grab you and let you lean against his strong body, remembering what he had learned from the antenatal appointments to help you through the pains, “That’s it baby, breath in and out, nice and slow”. It helped to listen and ground yourself through the pain as Bucky’s cold metal hand rubbed against your lower back, helping to ease the intense pressure from the baby.
The pain lasted for the same amount of time as the previous one and the clear liquid, which was definitely not urine, had gushed out more, forming a small puddle onto the floor. “Ok, I think it’s time we call someone”, you decided.
Bucky kissed the back of your head as he ran to get the phone and Steve helped you to pull your shirt on, his thumb brushing your chin as he sensed your anxieties, “You’re going to do amazing my love, we’ll be with you every step of the way”.
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celtic-crossbow · 4 months
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Series Masterlist
Blood Ties Chapter 15
Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; vomiting; pregnancy; pregnancy complications; allusions to child abuse. A/N: This chapter is a little shorter than most of the others but I’m actually super content with it. I’ve altered Daryl’s idiolect to somewhere I feel a little more comfortable. I hope it still stays true to the character. Lots of feels. Buckle up.
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Apparently, sleep had been in the cards for you after all. There were four things you noticed immediately upon waking. 
Firstly, there was a comforting ache between your legs that reminded you of the events of the previous night. You could still feel Daryl’s bare skin against yours, sweat-slick and new. You were aware he didn’t give that part of himself easily. You felt privileged. Your newfound revelation of your love for him felt validated. Still, you urged your mind onward. 
Secondly, Daryl was nowhere to be seen, along with Rick, Glenn, and Maggie. They must have left for the run already. You fought against the disappointment of not being able to see the archer before he’d gone. He wouldn’t have woken you. You knew that, but that did little to settle the discontentment of not seeing him off. 
Thirdly, a warmth was secured around your upper half in the form of one of Daryl’s button-up shirts. You chuckled quietly, considering how the gesture was one that was likely born out of concern and consideration but allowed yourself to entertain that it could have more than that. A desire to protect you and his child, ensure your comfort, as if wrapping you in something of his somehow marked you as off limits. 
And finally, you had to pee. The basic bodily function had been enough of an inconvenience before a small weight had been added above your bladder. Now, it appeared that your life was nothing outside of eating, vomiting, crying, and urinating. You were still trying to discern where the beautiful part of pregnancy might be hiding. 
“Good morning.”
You sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before waiting as they focused on Carol. You returned the greeting while stretching, your muscles giving up their sleep-induced stiffness. 
“Not much to eat but I saved you some beans. Are you hungry?”
You shook your head while, at the same time, scratching your blunt nails over your scalp. “I really need to pee though.” You eased Daryl’s shirt away from where it had pooled, folding it into a square on your lap. There was a brief chuckle from Carol that had you looking up quizzically. 
“I wish you could have seen him making sure you were okay before he left.” Your cheeks reddened, heat rising all the way to your ears. “Come on, I’ll walk with you.” The woman held out a hand. You took it and pulled yourself up, the warmth in your skin beginning to fade. As an afterthought, you grabbed Daryl’s shirt and unfolded it. It fit loosely over your flannel and shirt, providing a little more warmth against the morning chill. 
“I hope they are able to find more clothes. The wind cuts right through these damn pants.” You weren’t really intending to make conversation during the walk just inside the treeline but the silence after she had confirmed Daryl’s softness toward you had felt overbearing. 
“It was probably even colder without them.”
It took a minute for her words to sink in and then you stopped, feigning confusion even after the hint of pink covering your face surely gave you away. “What are you talking about?”
Carol laughed, a quiet sound, and stepped forward to barely move aside the three layers over your collarbone. “He left a reminder for you.” You really were confused for a moment before you were presented with the pleasant memory of his teeth clamping down above your collarbone and the intense orgasm that followed. 
“How do you know it wasn’t a walker?” You knew your attempt would be fruitless and cringed at the absurdity of your question. There was a relief when she didn’t even embarrass you further by answering. “Don’t tell anyone?”
“I didn’t tell them you were pregnant. I won’t tell them you’re sleeping with your baby’s father.” Carol grinned at your expression, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. “I’ll wait here.”
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You were dry heaving against the far end of the wall when you heard the roar of Daryl’s motorcycle signal the group’s return. Carol had finally insisted you try to eat something and you conceded, barely finishing the last bite before scrambling away from the fire to vomit only a few feet away. After that, it was a losing battle that you didn’t have the energy to fight. 
“Y’okay?” 
Smiling through bouts of retching had not been on your bingo card for the year, but there you were. His warm hand came to rest against your spine. You sagged with a sigh, barely holding yourself up. 
“Yeah.” Your voice was rough. Clearing your throat, you sat back on your heels and tried again. “Yeah, I’m okay.” The back of your hand rubbed across your mouth to wipe away traces of saliva before you allowed yourself to look at him. “Jesus, Daryl!” The archer was covered in grime and guts, a darkening bruise on his right cheekbone and a still weeping cut above his left eyebrow. 
“M’fine. Ran into some trouble. Handled it.”  
When your hand reached for his chin, he didn’t shy away, letting you turn his head one way and then the other. “Looks more like it handled you.” The archer scoffed and swatted at your arm. With a sigh, you braced yourself on shaky arms to force yourself up, caught off guard by his fingers pinching the three fabrics that covered you to pull them aside like Carol had earlier. You didn’t expect to see such a deep frown when you brought your attention to his face.
Pursing your lips, you sat back down and pulled down the collar of his undershirt, relieved that he had taped gauze over the wound you had opened on him. “I think I win, tiger. Besides, it doesn’t even hurt.”
“Don’t make it alright.”
You shrugged. “It does if I liked it.” You were hoping that would bring him some calm but that endeavor was cut short when you lurched to the side to once again heave futility. Daryl would find no protest when he scooped you up after you’d finished, saving you the journey back to the fireside. 
Your feet touched the ground just as everyone came into view. Did he not want them to see him carrying you? 
“Uh, here.” The archer’s fingers shook as he gently lifted your wrist and began to fit some sort of bracelet on it. “Couldn’t find the meds. M’sorry. Tried like hell. Turned that place upside down.” He looked so disappointed in himself. 
You examined the piece, a light pink band with symmetrically placed metal circles that fit snug, but not painfully so, against your skin. It was a strange piece of jewelry. “It’s pretty.” You stated honestly, not really knowing what you were supposed to say. The gift was appreciated and you liked it in all its uniqueness. It was just that Daryl offering you an apology in the form of a gift was new, for lack of a better term. 
The bowman snorted. “S’posed to use pressure points to help keep ya from feelin’ so sick.”
Somehow, that meant even more than an apology. He couldn’t find what you needed so he searched out an alternative. You were almost willing to bet that’s why he looked roughed up compared to the mere dirt and walker guts you could make out on the other three. 
“Ain’t gonna stop lookin’ though. M’a find that medicine for ya.”
You smiled at him, heartfelt and genuine. “You’ll find it and Thumper’ll be just fine.”
“Ain’t just—” Daryl trailed off, scratching at the back of head while not meeting your eyes. “Ain’t just ‘bout the kid, y’know.” You blinked, your eyes filling. Though some of his actions had hinted at it, hearing him say it was something else entirely. 
“Daryl, I—”
“Y/N!” Maggie was beaming at you while jogging over, immediately wrapping a soft hand around your forearm. “Come see!” She encouraged, all teeth and bright eyes. You glanced back to find Daryl already disappearing into the dark, the moment clearly over. 
You let yourself mourn it even as you plastered on a smile and turned back to allow her to lead you to the others. A short distance from the fire, a plethora of items were littered across a blanket. The eldest Greene daughter had already relinquished her hold and knelt above the supplies. 
“What is all this?”
“Well,” Glenn chuckled from beside Maggie. “Daryl had a list. We searched for medicine and clothes and food but that guy was in full dad mode.” Your heart fluttered but you continued to listen. “He had all this loaded by the time we came out with the other stuff.”
“We couldn’t find the meds though. Not yet but we’re going to stop in other places. We did find some IV bags and tubing though!” Her big eyes flitted down to the bracelet you were toying with unconsciously. “He went back in for those.” Maggie’s expression was incredibly soft. “We heard some other people. And there were walkers. We were loading the last of everything and he was just gone.”
“Looked like hell when he came out but had a bag of about ten of those things.” Glenn gestured to your wrist. “He didn’t know if they expired and really, we didn’t know what they were but he did. He said you might need them for a while after the baby comes.”
You were on the verge of tears, your hand closing around the contraption Daryl had fought so hard to secure. Maggie was already showing you clothing she had acquired, mentioning that you and Lori would need them.  There were boots and sneakers, a size larger than you usually wore. Bras, only regular ones. Nursing bras were a no-go but it would be a while before you needed those. They found few actual maternity items but things in larger sizes and some men’s items that could be used. 
“And then all this stuff Daryl grabbed. He said he didn’t know if he’d ever find it all again so he took all he could.” Rick had remained quiet up to that point, refusing to meet Lori’s eyes as he spoke. Definitely trouble in that paradise. 
The blanket held things you weren’t even sure about. Maggie explained the manual breast pump. There were bottles, nipples, pacifiers, orajel, one container of infant Tylenol, a container of infant gas relief drops, two packs of newborn diapers, three packs of wipes, several baby blankets, three healthcare kits, some clothes that were just so, so tiny. You were simply overwhelmed. Daryl, the provider for the group, had ventured off alone to find all he could think of for the baby, leaving the others to find supplies for the here and now. 
“How are we gonna haul all of this if something happens to the cars?” You bit down on your lip after speaking, still fighting the sting in your eyes. 
“I guess he thought of that too.” Glenn jerked his head to the right where several backpacks were piled up. “He said between all of us, we can keep everything here as well as any supplies the adults need.” It went unsaid how you all held onto hope that you’d have a safe place to stay by then. 
“Wow. How many places did you clear?”
“Four.” The young man answered immediately. “Dude had an agenda. He wasn’t coming back until he had everything on his list.”
“Oh! Here!” Maggie grabbed a thick winter coat and held it out. “He said you needed this. It was one of the things he refused to come back without.”
You were still stunned, swallowing it down behind feigned delight. “Okay, gimme some of those clothes.”
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Daryl was leaning against a tree when you found him. You were in much warmer clothes and bundled deep inside the warm jacket that left plenty of room for the belly you’d be sporting soon enough. 
“Hey.” You greeted. He didn’t turn but grunted in reply. “Thanks for this.” You watched his eyes slide over when you gestured to the coat. 
“Warm enough?” 
“I feel like I am legitimately baking a bun in the oven.” You smiled brightly when he deadpanned at you with a mumbled stop. “Seriously, though. Thank you. For this,” you pulled up your sleeves to show him the anti-nausea bracelet, “and for this.”
He glanced over but then back out to the quiet wooded area. “It workin’?” 
You shrugged. “I threw up lunch but then I’ve kept water down so far.” His blue eyes finally turned to you and studied, sliding down and back, before he jerked his chin up in a nod and looked away yet again. Something was bothering him. That much was obvious. “Are you okay?”
“Mhm.” Daryl reached for the bag at his feet, pulling out a carton of cigarettes. He opened one end and pulled a pack free before dropping the box back into the bag. You could hear the plastic tear and the flick of the zippo but your eyes were on something else. 
Breaking the Cycle of Abuse: How to Move Beyond Your Past to Create an Abuse-free Future
You didn’t notice him move until he was zipping the bag with more force than necessary, moving it out of your sight as if you had X-ray vision. 
“You won’t be like them.” You didn’t know who had hurt him. Though he’d allowed you to see him without the thin armor of his shirt, he hadn’t offered any information. Not that there had been time. He sent you off to bed, took watch alone, and he was already gone before you even woke up. 
He took a long drag off the cigarette. “Don’t act like ya know anythin’ ‘bout it.” He stated evenly, smoke flowing from his mouth behind every word. It was difficult but you didn’t let his words sting. 
“I really don’t. My daddy was amazing. My mom wasn’t a monster. She was just—weak. Never had a boyfriend hit me or anything.” A hand came to rest on his shoulder but he shrugged it off. “But I can listen if you want to talk about it.”
“Nah. Ain’t needin’ my head shrunk.”
You noticed immediately that he gave no indication as to any of the people you mentioned being the one in his life to hurt him. There was so much you didn’t know about Daryl. So much he didn’t know about you. If one of you died after the baby came, how could the other possibly tell the story of the other parent with so many missing pieces. 
“Daryl?”
“What?” The archer didn’t snap at you but there was an underlying annoyance that you couldn’t miss if you tried. 
You sighed. “Nothing.” Tell me everything. “I think there should be food ready if we head back now. Corned beef hash, if I read the can correctly.” What are we?
“Ain’t hungry but you g’on. Ya need to eat. Need the food just s’much as the baby does.” It was a valiant but failed effort to offer you his portion of the meal. 
“You need it too.” Daryl looked so tired but it wasn’t just physical exhaustion. He had been racking his brain for anything that could make your life easier now and after the birth. A break was necessary. “And you need to sleep.”
“Said I ain’t hungry. Ain’t tired neither.”
“Bullshit.” Your patience was wearing thin, whether from hormones or just the simple grating of his petulance on your last nerve. “Not gonna beg you. Do what you want but I would feel a hell of a lot better if you’d take as much care of yourself as you try to for me and the baby.” You made a show of stomping away, hoping that he’d see how he was affecting you. 
The warmth of the fire began warming you within the coat before you had fully reached it. Carol was already filling a bowl for you and holding it out by the time you sat down. “Thank you.” The woman smiled and nodded, returning her focus to her own helping. You took a moment to regard the state of your stomach. It was uneasy, but only slightly. The abundant smells of food, burning wood, and a hint of body odor from close proximity weren’t making it worse. You decided to take the risk and shoveled a bite into your mouth. 
You had managed less than a third of the bowl when Daryl emerged from the shadows, nodding at Rick when they passed one another, the latter taking up watch with his bowl in hand. The hunter’s crossbow was placed on the ground before he took a seat next to you, your shoulders nearly touching. It was a gesture of vulnerability that the group either didn’t pick up on or didn’t care enough to acknowledge. But you did. 
Your bowl was placed in front of your criss-crossed legs so you could reach out and silently beckon Carol to fill another. Nodding your thanks, you offered it to Daryl, smiling in the face of his sneer. He wasn’t unaffected by your blatant desire to care for him, his distaste evident but not aggressive. He accepted the food and wasted no time before digging in, visibly forcing himself not to inhale the meal. 
He had been hungry. An invisible force squeezed your heart. He was already making sacrifices for his family, regardless of wherever it was the two of you stood. He was choosing you as a priority, eager for your health and comfort at the cost of his own. You’d have to watch him or he’d run himself into the ground. 
There wasn’t much left after a single serving for everyone but it was an unspoken agreement that what remained would be for you, Lori, or Carl. You managed to make it through most of your own serving, adding a little more on top while leaving enough for the kid and his mom to split the rest. You forced another two bites to at least support the appearance of initially wanting more. You hadn’t. You did want the archer to have more. He was careful to conceal it but you knew without asking that he had either trimmed his own portions of the few meals the group had managed or turned it down all together. And that simply wouldn’t do. 
You maneuvered your bowl above his in preparation to rake what you hadn’t eaten on top of what he was still working through. He pulled back, brow furrowed. “Eyes were bigger than my appetite.” You shrugged. 
“Give it to one’a them.” Daryl jerked his chin across the fire, holding your gaze while taking another bite. 
“There’s enough left for them. I want you to have this.” The tension that followed was brief. He gave in rather easily, offering his bowl with a heaved sigh. You didn’t gloat and spooned the rest out for him. “Thank you.” He replied with a grunt that really could have been interpreted as a growl. 
A promise was made to Carol to help her clean the mismatched bowls in the morning. You were tired; slightly nauseated and, for once, eager to close your eyes. Still, something bothered you. 
During dinner, you noticed the fine, almost imperceptible shivering. Despite his natural ability to act as a human space heater, Daryl was cold. He wore only his vest, long sleeve button up, and a tank top beneath. You pushed to your feet, feeling his eyes follow you. The supplies had been separated and placed into different backpacks, forcing you to go through three of them to find the blankets. Some were small receiving blankets while others were thick, large fabrics. You grabbed two of those and then one of the blankets for the adults. Those were limited to one per person, having been hard to find. 
You returned to his side without a word. The largest blanket was soon spread over the ground. You hoped he would take the hint and share the blanket, sparing him from the cold forest floor. 
Daring to push your luck, you took one of the larger baby blankets and spread it over his shoulders. Daryl tensed with a spoonful of food hovering just over the bowl, trembling so hard that clumps were falling back into the bowl. You watched his eyes dart from person to person, lingering on Carol as she smiled around her spoon. She kept her eyes straight ahead but had obviously seen your actions. 
The archer deflated slightly, pushing what remained on the utensil past his lips. You sat down on the edge of the blanket, leaving ample room for him to just shift over and lie down if he wanted. You, on the other hand, nearly collapsed onto your back before rolling onto your side to grab the other blanket. Your torso was warm under the jacket but the chill of the night air was still biting at your legs. Making sure they were adequately covered, you used one arm as a pillow, not even trying to fight the heavy call of sleep. 
In the haze of exhaustion, you faintly registered the warm body against your back and the gentle squeeze of a hand on your hip. 
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The weather only became colder as the days wore on. The dead moved slower but in groups that grew larger, desperately in search of living flesh. There hadn’t been a single living soul in three weeks.  Everyone had moved on. And that meant that every stop had been cleaned out of anything useful. Anything vital to survival. 
Hershel did what he could to ensure that you and the baby remained as healthy as possible. Without the proper equipment, there was little he could do beyond checking your pulse, taking approximate measurements of your stomach. You took the meds when Daryl could find them; changed the bracelet when the one you wore didn’t seem to be as effective. Hershel would administer IV fluids as often as he dared while in constant motion to stay ahead of the gathering herds. At times you wondered if you or the baby would even survive after all. 
At twenty one weeks, you had most definitely—as Lori had put it—popped. While malnutrition and the complications you suffered ensured you struggled to maintain any sort of healthy weight, the small roundness of your abdomen remained prominent. Despite Daryl's protests, you continued to ride behind him on the bike, the bump pressed against his back, the only time you felt like you could offer any true safety for your baby. Protected by their father from the weather, the walkers. 
From the world. 
The current stop saw you vomiting beside the porch of the home the group was searching. Daryl was with you, quiet, one hand on your back and the other holding any hair away from your face. 
“Doc should give ya some’a them fluids.” His suggestion came quietly against your ear after you sagged against him. 
“Maybe at the next stop.” That was always your reply. Even when the archer had to pull the bike off the road for you to retch and heave. Maybe at the next stop.
You didn’t want to be the reason the group was held up. You continued to hold on until your legs buckled and your head clouded, always waking up with tubing in your arm and a worried bowman’s face hovering over yours. 
This was most likely going to be one of those times. You angled your head to look at him, his tired gaze on the front of your coat. The large size ensured the swell remained hidden. You both preferred it that way. If you ran into any hostile living, it wouldn’t be something that could be used as leverage. 
“How ‘bout this stop?” It wasn’t a request. Still, the command was strained at best. Daryl looked exhausted and drawn, years older than just two weeks before. 
There was still nothing defined about what the two of you had. He slept behind you at night, putting himself between you and any possible entrance, the curves of his body fitting into yours. His hand never ventured past where your hip met your stomach. There had been nothing sexual since the first night on the road, not even a kiss. 
The two of you never discussed where you stood. It was as if you just were. Together but not. Maybe he never wanted to discuss it because he was afraid of how badly he felt he was failing you. How he felt he was a terrible father before the kid had even taken their first breath. The times you had tried to reassure him, he had snatched up his crossbow and skulked away to hunt, a quiet bark of watch her to Carol. 
You didn’t offer him any of those reassurances that night. You preferred to have him close to you, that barrier between your baby and the world, instead of wondering if the sight of his back as he walked away would be the last you would see of him. 
As you laid there on top of your blanket in the run down house, IV fluids flowing into the back of your hand and Daryl breathing quietly at your back while his fingers flexed over the bony junction of your hip, you startled to feel the small flutter inside the swell of your belly. You carefully moved your hand over where the sensation originated, not wanting to alert Daryl just yet. Hershel had told you that the first movements would likely only be felt on the inside. 
That was indeed the case. Still you held your breath after each flutter, awaiting the next with tears flowing across your nose and down your temple. 
Your baby was moving. 
“Daryl.” 
His fingers stilled. “Hmm?”
“They’re moving.” You shifted to look over your shoulder at him. He had slightly raised his head, his brow furrowed. He looked over his own shoulder toward the people sleeping behind him. The only one up was Rick, his gun on his lap while his gaze was trained on the door. 
“Who’s movin’?” He looked so, so tired and your heart shattered, as it did anytime you looked at him lately. 
But this wasn’t the time for heavy hearts. 
“The baby. They’re moving.”
The change in the archer was gradual. Understanding finally blossomed in his expression, the dull veil that had glossed over his pretty blue eyes washed away with the wetness of his unshed tears. You gently wrapped your fingers around his and pulled his hand toward your belly, parting your coat so he could touch your warm skin with chilled fingers. You both knew he wouldn’t be able to feel it, but it didn’t stop him from crumbling, burying his face in your hair. You remained unsure if he was crying, even his stuttering breaths completely untelling. 
Still, his fingers squeezed yours over where your baby moved. 
And for one brief moment, the world around you was beautiful. 
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bookishjules · 6 months
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sally and gabe's exchange about not liking to watch the knicks alone was such a brave addition, given where the season will end for them, but boy did it add so much.
in the books, we only ever see one dynamic between them--something i think can be pretty decently summed up by the bean dip: gabe yells at sally, sally says in a minute, gabe yells at sally, sally makes enough bean dip to get him through the weekend. sally is upset but she breathes and caters to the house rat's wishes (or at least says the things he wants to hear) because she knows she can't rock the boat too much, lest percy lose that extra layer of protection. in order for her to fight back, there would need to be some legit reason for gabe to stick around despite the opposition.
in the show, we've gotten to see how featuring sally's strength in a different way calls that reason into existence, no matter how small it may be. it creates so much more nuance in the relationship, and makes it make more sense before we are provided with the real reason sally is with him.
the knicks. the knicks is a thing they share, a thing they can call a truce on. and the way they both say they can't watch the games alone... it implies a level of loneliness, not just the one we gather that sally feels without percy there throughout the year, but also for gabe. instead of percy coming home to a poker game with between gabe and his gross friends, he arrives at the door as eddie the super is leaving, and they share a moment of solidarity at despising gabe, and then when he enters the apartment, the poker table is folded up against the wall...
now i'm not trying to make gabe a sympathetic character here. he's an asshat. but i do think making him and his relationship with sally more nuanced does a lot for character building and motivations that we just didn't see in the books, and i commend them for that.
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cocoon | k.s.m
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pairing... bf!seungmin x gn!reader tags... hurt/comfort, established relationship, angst with a happy ending!!! soft seungmin 💞 cw... crying, reader is tired and burned out, self-indulgent!
co•coon noun | a protective or comforting covering see also: kim seungmin
wc... 948 words a/n... huge credits to heather for getting me out of my writing slump HAHAHA i tried a different writing style here, let me know what you guys think!
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Tears are threatening to spill out of your eyes and your hair is all disheveled from the amount of times you ran your fingers through it out of frustration. Your aching back is slouched and you just want to take a hot shower, bury yourself in the covers, and sleep all your problems away. As soon as you enter your apartment, you make a beeline for the bathroom and take a quick, steaming shower. You let the stinging drops fall from the showerhead and trail down your skin, washing the remnants of your shampoo and soap away.
Hastily, you enter your bedroom and grab Seungmin's biggest hoodie from his side of the dresser. You slip it on, wearing nothing else than your underwear, drowning yourself in a cocoon of his scent. You nestle in the soft fabric, immersing yourself in the smell of the coffee beans and vanilla lotion that you’re all too familiar with. Not long after you lie down under the covers, you hear shuffling in the living room, muffled by the closed door in between. After a short few seconds, the door creaks open and Seungmin enters the bedroom, his hair damp from his after-practice shower. One look at your red, tired, glossy eyes and he knows just how exhausted you are, so he quietly slips into bed beside you, enveloping his arms around your figure as he pulls you flush against his chest. The room falls silent for a moment, then the cork pops loose and your emotions begin to pour out.
He doesn't utter a word as the sobs violently start to escape your mouth, the heart-wrenching echoes bouncing off the walls. He runs his hands up and down your back and arms, silently soothing you as you let it all out. Once your cries gradually get less abrupt, he pulls you back a bit and tips your head up so he can look you in the eye. He holds your gaze as he brings his hands to your face and wipes the tears away with his thumb, gently caressing your cheeks. Softly, he whispers, "You're so strong, my angel. I know you can get through whatever is causing you trouble. You don't have to talk about it right now, but I’ll be right here when you're ready. Just keep pushing through."
He knows how you’ve been struggling. He takes your trembling hands from where they were resting folded in your lap. After brushing his lips against your knuckles, he brings your hands to wrap around his neck, returning his own to rest on your waist as he leans his forehead against yours. The feeling of endless hard work, endless pain, endless difficulties; he’s been there. He knows how tempting it can be to give up, however, he believes you'll persevere. Why? Because you always do, you just need a little reminder.
“You know, butterflies weren’t always beautiful,” he comments softly, causing your brows to furrow. Seungmin smiles softly as he continues, “They start off as caterpillars, which, by the way, I think look really ugly and scary.” You let out a choked giggle. “They’re all fuzzy and have too many legs for my comfort—anyway. They go through a lot of hardships and challenges as a caterpillar. Then they wrap themselves in a tight, silky cocoon, just like you right now; all wrapped up in my hoodie that’s like ten sizes too big on you.” You roll your glassy eyes, letting a few more tears streak down your cheeks. Seungmin wipes them right away. “Right, so, in that cocoon, they transform. They keep with them all their experiences, everything they’ve learned, and then they emerge as beautiful, majestic butterflies.” He presses a soft peck to your lips. “You will be that butterfly, my love. At the end of all the pain you’re facing right now, it will all be worth it. Your hard work will pay off, trust me.”
The sobs you let out are fractured, separated by your deep inhales as you slowly try to catch your breath. Seungmin is firm in consoling you because, in this time of vulnerability and weakness, he is your pillar. He maintains eye contact while he coaxes deep and steady breaths out of you, his warm hands cradling your face. When you manage to croak out a strangled, but coherent, “I’ve always liked butterflies," he pulls you back to his chest as he resumes stroking his hand over your head.
The sweet little nothings Seungmin whispers into your ears are a melodic string of comfort. He kisses your forehead as the last of your cries start to die down and you finally fall asleep in his arms. Gently, he lifts you off his lap, making sure not to break your hold on his neck. He positions your head to rest snugly on top of your pillow and he pulls the duvet tight around the two of you, making a cocoon containing your intertwined bodies.
When you wake up the next morning, Seungmin still has you protected in his grasp, your limbs wrapped together under the blanket. He jokes about how you're a bit gross for sleeping on his chest when his shirt is painted by your tears and snot. You giggle and whisper out a half-sincere apology as he peppers kisses all over your puffy eyelids. Before the two of you officially start your day, you remain nuzzled in each other’s tangled arms as the birds chirp and the sunlight peeks its way through the curtains. You tell him, “I love you, Seungmin. Thank you for being here.” And he replies, "I love you, too, dummy. You're always safe with me. Don't ever forget that, please.”
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
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