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hispg · 5 months

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Comfort

Pairings: R4! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: Your husband is glad that he has you, just like he's glad to have his little family.

Wc:4.8k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, p in v, mentions of ptsd, mentions of birth and pregnancy, soft sex(nothing too kinky), oral sex(f receiving), just Leon being a sweetheart.

An:So, this week has been very busy for me. As I've been saying in my last few posts, university has been taking up a lot of my time, as well as my mental health being pretty messed up. I didn't manage to finish the chapter of 'Between Love and Vows' so I probably won't post anything new until next week. In compensation, I'll post another one of my drafts (smut), I'll make a poll so you guys can choose. And next week I'll post two new chapters of the series! Thanks for your love and understanding <3 If I haven't answered your comment, ask or request, don't worry, I will eventually🫶🫶

MDNI

Sleepless nights, the nightmares that kept tormenting him, his mind that was in turmoil all the time. Leon was used to all this, he had already realized that these were sensations he would carry with him for the rest of his life.

His trauma, ptsd that haunted him every day. Things he had seen and heard, all so fresh in his memory, so vivid. Things that no matter how hard he tried to forget, he couldn't. As if it were a mark stamped on his soul.

But he coped, as he always does with everything in life. Little by little, he understood how to deal with panic attacks, how to calm down even when he was about to collapse. He learned all this, but that didn't make things any less worse than they were.

Although he thought he had everything under control, that it wouldn't affect him as much as before, he was wrong.

His last mission in Spain proved it, he went from hell to heaven to save the president's daughter. Everything worked out in the end, but that doesn't erase what he experienced or saw.

Many times he could have sworn that if it hadn't been for you, he would have gone mad a long time ago. Even if you weren't able to end the pain he felt, you were there to be the light at the end of the tunnel for him, the clarity to his own insanity.

All this because every time he returned from a mission, he came home first, not caring if he was all dirty with mud and dirt, even blood. His safe haven was here, with you.

That was the only reason he always came home, no matter how difficult things might be for him. You were what he needed, you were the person who healed all his wounds, and he couldn't be more grateful.

If it had been anyone else, he would have left you by now, but you understood him. You listened to him even if he didn't make any sense, you were still there.

Your love was the remedy for all his problems.

And if he was being honest, it was the reason he woke up every day, the only reason he had a place to call home. You, simply you.

And that night, he found himself on another one of those nights when he couldn't sleep, and there he was, pacing around the house, finding something to occupy his mind.

It had been two weeks since he had returned from his mission in Spain, and he was still terrified by everything that had happened, even though he was safe and sound in the comfort of his own home.

He woke up from a nightmare, yet another one. And in order not to wake you too, he preferred to get out of bed. You were already tired enough to have to deal with him in the wee hours of the morning.

He was so careful with you, even though you had told him several times that it was okay for him to wake you up if he needed to. But he was stubborn enough to say no.

As he made some tea, just to see if it would calm his nerves, he watched the rain falling outside, the gentle drips hitting the window.

In that silence he began to have some sweet memories, it always helped to calm him down a little. One of those memories was when he asked you to marry him, God, he still remembers the nervousness that ran through his whole body. The trembling hands that held the box with the ring, the words that he had rehearsed so much and still came out messy. He was so afraid of being told no, but his heart calmed down when you smiled and threw yourself into his arms, saying yes again and again, making his heart melt each time.

That night he fell even more in love with you, if that were possible.

When you started living together, every time he came home he was greeted with a hug, you welcomed him with love and affection. He felt his cold exterior crumble at the same moment, words couldn't describe how much he liked it. Every little gesture that came from you, no matter what, he always took it to heart and considered it with all his soul.

He still vividly remembered a conversation he had with you as soon as you moved in together. It never failed to crack a smile.

"Darling, did you let something burn?" Leon asks as he feeds himself, looking around the kitchen.

You look at him with a laugh, seeing that he arrived so tired that he didn't even realize he was still in his work clothes. And then you answer, "No, why do you ask?"

"Nothing, it's just that something stinks." He says quietly, focused on finishing his food.

You can't help yourself and a giggle escapes your lips, "You haven't showered yet, sweetheart."

"Oh..." He mumbles, looking down at his state.

He was so entertained that he only noticed a baby crying from one of the bedrooms, it was you guys son.

He didn't hesitate to go into the baby's room, watching the little one whimpering in his crib, even though he was warm and comfortable in his blankets, the little boy was still bothered by something.

Leon imagined that he wasn't hungry, since you had fed him not long ago. Then he thought it might be his diaper that was dirty, which he soon confirmed.

So the baby was in his arms the next second, he put the little boy on the changing table and changed him properly, not forgetting a single detail, from carefully wiping him down with a wet wipe, to the ointment he had to apply to prevent diaper rash.

He checked the diaper to make sure it was fastened properly. Once he'd checked everything, he rocked the baby in his arms until the little one fell asleep again.

He even sang a lullaby, one of the little boy's favorites. He still thought it sounded ridiculous, but he didn't care as long as it soothed the baby.

Every time he looked at the little one's face, he couldn't hold back the loving smile that always appeared on his lips. It was still hard to believe that he had his own little family.

It's still clear in his memory when you announced that you were pregnant, the uncertainty and fear that consumed him. The anguish he felt, the apprehension of being a bad father. As well as the shock he felt when he received the news, since it wasn't something either of you were expecting. Not least because you had just started living together, so it was a lot all at once. But nothing that shook the relationship, quite the opposite.

But every time he saw you laugh, every time you came home with a little baby thing, whether it was clothes, shoes or even a toy. He couldn't contain his joy at the thought that he was going to be a father, that he was going to have a child.

It wasn't long before he started buying lots and lots of things for the baby, rattles, diapers, baby cloths, various types of educational toys, plush toys and everything else.

In a matter of weeks, the spare room in the house was full and ready to receive the baby, even if you weren't that far along in your pregnancy.

Not only did he become even more protective, the kind that wouldn't even let you lift a thing, but he accompanied you throughout your pregnancy. From start to finish. Even though he sometimes had to leave for work, he never failed to call you, even if it was late at night.

He always made video calls to see how you were doing, even talking to the baby in your belly on the phone. Even if they were quick calls, he still made sure they happened.

It was obvious that he wanted to be there for you, and he made it clear whenever he could, because he did everything for you, simply everything. Craves? He'd arrange anything you wanted. Going out late at night to buy a slice of cake in a particular flavor? Well, he was there. He would go to the end of the earth to find whatever you wanted.

When you were uncomfortable he was there, always whispering kind things to you, always trying to calm you down and relax in his embrace, trying to give you all the security you could have. He still remembers when your water broke, you were so calm, and he was about to have a heart attack.

Yet he was with you the whole way, holding your hand as you went into labor.

But all his worry went away as soon as he heard the baby's cry, the little being that had just come out of you. He still remembers the unconditional love he felt as soon as he laid eyes on the little one, as soon as he saw you cradling the boy in your arms, crying with exhaustion and joy. Just as he was crying as much as the baby, he felt so happy that he couldn't imagine being anywhere else but there with you and your bundle of joy.

"What are we going to call him?" Leon asked through tears, wiping away his own with the back of his hand.

"I don't know, sweetheart, we agreed that if it was a boy you'd choose." You say in a whisper, giving him a small smile. Rocking the newborn in your arms.

"No, I'd rather you chose." He says softly, running his fingers through the baby's thin golden strands, which by the way had the same hair as his father.

"Leon-," he doesn't let you finish, giving you a kiss on the lips. Letting his forehead rest on yours, looking at you with tear-filled eyes and a sweet smile.

"You've already given me one of the greatest joys of my life. Nothing could be fairer than for you to choose any name you like." Kind words that made your heart melt, and you just nodded.

At that moment he realized that there was no better place in the world. That there was nowhere else he wanted to be, all he needed was you.

While he was lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice that the little one had already fallen asleep, making cooing noises, his mouth hanging open while he slept peacefully. Even the way he slept was like Leon's, it was funny to see how similar the two of them were.

Then he slowly placed the little one in his crib, tucking him into the covers and making sure he was warm and comfortable for the rest of the night.

He stayed for a few more minutes, humming some more until he was sure the boy wouldn't wake up too soon.

After that he moved into the kitchen, where he found you awake, which was enough to make him wrinkle his eyebrows.

"Love?" He asks softly, moving towards you.

You answer him with a smile, giving him a hug, "You should have called me."

He shakes his head, kissing the top of your head, "I didn't have to."

You pout, giving him a playful pat on the shoulder.

"Here, I've made your tea. I've also put out a slice of cake for you." You murmur with a smile, pointing to the plate on the table.

He chuckles, holding your face and kissing the tip of your nose.

"You're amazing." He whispers before walking over to the table and sitting down, taking a sip of tea and eating the cake, which, by the way, was his favorite flavor.

So you sat next to him, waiting for him to finish eating silently.

"Your food is fucking good." Leon says, taking a bite of his cake and smiling at you.

You couldn't help but giggle, knowing that even if you burned the food, he'd eat it and say it was good.

"No, you're just being nice." You say softly, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He laughed genuinely, entwining his fingers with yours. Then he lifted your hand and kissed the back of it.

You were always amazed by his loving gestures, which he always made towards you. And so the two of you remained until he had finished eating, rubbing his thumb against your hand to give it a gentle caress.

When he had finished, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, looking at you with a smile. But you couldn't help noticing the dark circles under his eyes, just as he still had a few scratches and bruises all over his body. As well as the scars, some new, some old. All a mark of his profession.

"Did you have another nightmare?" you ask, running your fingers along his cheekbones, smiling softly.

He nodded with a tired sigh, leaning into your touch, "No big deal."

You knew that he always hid these things from you, not least because it took time for him to feel comfortable sharing the events of his mission with you.

"You can tell me, smartass." You said smiling, rubbing your nose against his, letting his hand rest on the small of your back.

His lips curved into a small smile, just as his eyes met yours. And that was enough to make you blush slightly, no matter how long you'd been together, he always had that effect on you.

The rain began to fall harder outside, enough to make you both look out of the window. The rain left a comfortable atmosphere in the kitchen, just the two of you sharing the warmth of your bodies, making that cold night a little warmer.

You picked up the dishes and took them to the sink, taking the opportunity to wash them right away. And it wasn't long before you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, just as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his warm breath beating against you.

"I swear to God I love the smell of your lotion." He purrs, rubbing his nose against your neck, hugging you tightly.

You smiled, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. Even if it was late at night, those moments were so precious to you both. A little intimacy was always nice.

But even with all the affection coming from him, you could feel how tense his muscles were, how his breathing wasn't very regulated. Every time he had these nightmares, they took a while to wear off, and he was still scared for a good few hours.

You then turned to him, held his face in your hands and looked at him seriously, "You should have called me."

He knew how this conversation would go. But to be honest, he wasn't paying attention to your speech, only to the way your lips moved as you spoke, your sweet voice entering his ears. Even if it was you scolding him.

All he could do was give you a silly little smile, stroking your cheeks with his thumb. No matter how much you talked, he would forget the next day. He just didn't want to worry you with his work matters.

Gently he put his index finger to your lips, whispering, "Why don't you hush, darling?"

You widened your eyes, preparing to protest, but he interrupted you, giving you a loving kiss. The kiss was full of affection and tenderness, just as he wasted no time in wrapping his arms around your waist once again, gluing your body to his.

Without giving you time to say another word, he carried you in his arms, taking you to your room like a princess, as if you weighed nothing, he did it with the purest ease.

His grip was firm, as if he didn't want to let you go, he wanted to have you there, in his arms.

Your room was dark, lit only by the faint light of the moon, while the rain continued to fall outside. It wasn't long before he laid you down on the mattress, letting you sink into the soft surface.

The door locked, the baby asleep, just the two of you in that room. The perfect moment for what was about to happen.

No matter how many times Leon looked at you, he always lost his breath, his breath caught in his throat.

You were so beautiful, so perfect, he didn't know how he had been so lucky to have found someone like you, and he couldn't thank you enough for that.

His hands began to move slowly up your thigh, callused fingers caressing the soft skin, letting his hand wander over the flesh, touching you with all the passion he had to offer. And he would do this for the rest of your life.

His mouth finding your neck, his hot breath making you gasp, letting him do whatever he wanted with you.

Soon the wet kisses began, leaving his lips hovering over the weak spots that he knew, he knew exactly where to touch, because he knew well that every touch of his made your body shiver with desire.

"You're beautiful." He whispers, giving your thigh a light squeeze, feeling the soft fabric of your nightgown on the back of his hand.

You give a sly smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close.

He soon understands what you want, and he gives it to you right away. A tender, passionate kiss, gently capturing your lips.

You don't know how, but he always manages to show his devotion to you with every kiss, every touch, every night of love. He makes it seem like the first time, always showing you how much he loves you.

His fingers keep tracing your thigh, feeling how warm your body gets from his touch. Your body reacting under his, squirming and shivering, an incentive for him.

When he pulls away from you a little, just to stop the kiss. He nibbles your lip, lifts your leg and grabs the back of your thigh.

Making a point of giving you wet kisses all over your neck, shoulders, collar bone, all to hear the sweet sounds that escaped your lips every time, the way you begged softly for him to continue.

"Oh, fuck Leon..." You whimpered, watching his fingers purposely wrap around the strap of your panties, he was taking his time.

As he always did, because he wanted to make sure he gave you all the affection he could give.

As soon as their trail of kisses went down to your chest, he spared no effort in giving little kisses to your nipples, which were already hard, crying out for any kind of touch and attention.

It was more than enough for you to let out several moans and low squeaks, letting your hands nestle in his golden strands, feeling the softness they contained.

Both his hands slid under your nightgown, and before long his fingers were playing with the waist line of your panties, fingering and stretching, all the while keeping an eye on your every reaction.

The look he had in store for you was yours alone, he had never looked at anyone else like that. Nor would he ever, you were the only one capable of bringing it out of him. The only one.

Just as you never tired of looking into those gentle blue eyes, similar to the color of the sky, or even the ocean. You lost your breath every time.

And there he went, slowly dropping wet kisses over the thin fabric of your nightgown, feeling your body tremble beneath his, just as he made a point of running his fingers over the wet surface of your panties, only to give a smug smile, knowing that he could get you soaking wet for so little.

As soon as he reached your navel, he lifted your nightgown completely, exposing your lower body, which was enough for him to let out a low noise, excited by the image in front of him. Which only fueled his cock to throb even more under his pants.

"I wonder what I did to make you like this." Leon said with a sly, mischievous smile, sliding his index finger down your slit.

Did he know the answer? Of course he did. But it was nicer to hear it from your mouth, your sweet voice echoing through the room.

"You know, you just need to touch me..." You said with a pout, looking at him with piteous eyes, a look he already knew well. And yet it broke his smile every time.

"Because of me?" He purrs, pushing his fingertips against your covered pussy, teasing you as far as he can.

You whimper, spreading your legs as if it were an automatic reaction from your body. Understanding the signal, he pulls you a little closer to the edge of the bed, taking off your panties and sliding them down your legs, soon the garment was lying in a corner of the room.

You were there, completely exposed to him, legs dangling from his shoulders, clit throbbing and begging him to do something.

It felt like magic, every time he touched you he was able to drive you crazy with the smallest things. You often got wet just watching him, seeing the way the muscles in his arms flexed every time he held your legs tighter.

Or the way he always looked at you throughout the process, as he positioned his face close to your center, biting and licking your inner thigh, making sure to leave soft marks all over the area. He loved looking at the love bites the next day, not least because you looked beautiful with each one.

"You're all mine, aren't you?" He asked in a whisper, which sounded more like a question to himself. Especially because he didn't even need to hear the answer.

You were about to answer, but your mind turned to crumbs as soon as he started planting wet, caressing kisses in your folds, letting his tongue linger in certain spots.

His wet muscle slid into your wet pussy, making you arch your body and tremble under him. The tip of his tongue brushed against your clit, swirling around your sensitive part, enough for you to roll your eyes and moan a little louder.

"That's so good, so good..." You mumble, biting your lower lip to hold back your moans.

Every time he eat you out, he didn't hold back with the noises he made, he didn't even care about the slurping noises he made, or the way he did it in a completely sloppy way.

Not least because he never wasted any time, it wasn't long before he was fucking you with his tongue. Moving in and out, hitting all your sweet spots.

It didn't take long for you to be a mess, moaning and whimpering, your sounds echoing around the room. Your hands nestled in his hair, pushing his head against you, letting him get buried in your thighs.

Despite this, you couldn't help but crave his cock, a need to have it inside you, you needed him fucking you.

"Leon..." You called out, rolling your hips against his mouth, you could already feel your orgasm approaching.

He smiled sideways, kissing all over your intimate area, making a point of running his tongue over it in the process. The way he did this so masterfully left no doubt that he knew exactly what to do to bring you to the edge, he knew exactly.

As soon as he started tongue-fucking you one more time, it was enough for you to come apart in his mouth, gushing out all your climax. You could feel your body hot and bothered, your mind confused and without any other thoughts. It was surreal the way your orgasms with him were always that intense.

Just as he spared no expense in giving you sloppy, wet kisses on your wet folds, as if he were smoothing the area, taking the opportunity to clean up the mess that was between your legs. Even though he was about to make another one.

"It tastes fucking good, love." He purrs, licking his lips and lifting his head.

Having the beautiful image of you, with your legs spread, sweaty body, chest rising and falling. The way your eyelids were closed and your lips were open was more than enough to send a wave of electricity to his cock. Which, by the way, was already leaking pre-cum, the wet spot on his sweatpants was already clearly visible.

He wasted no time in removing his pants and underwear, letting his cock pop out. Which was a divine sign for you, seeing every inch of his shapely body, the way he was hard as a rock.

His cock resting in his palm, as he gave it a few small pumps, watching the precum drip down a little. Despite this, his eyes were focused on you, the way you bit your lip and stared at him.

"Please?" You ask in a whisper, spreading your legs even wider for him.

In response, he gives you a puffy smile, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit, his sticky liquid pooling with your own juices.

You whimper and pout to get him in at once. As if on command, he obeyed, lifting your legs over his shoulder and fitting himself into you. Hissing once he was all the way in, the way your walls clenched around him was enough to elicit a grunt from him.

"So fucking eager..." He whispers in your ear, taking the opportunity to nibble on it. Making you gasp easily.

"Oh-Oh, so deep!" You moan, your nails sinking into the muscles of his back, a reaction he loved every time.

You can't say how, but he thrust into you in such a sensual way, his hips rolling with a dexterity you couldn't even describe in words. It was calm, sexy, who knows how you could describe it.

His eyes never left yours, he could reach all your weak points, all the places where he made you roll your eyes and curl your toes.

At that point, he didn't even try to understand you. Not least because you could only mumble half-words, whimpers or moans, and he couldn't have been prouder to leave you in that state. Your mind so foolish as he fucked you numb.

"Are you going to come already, love?" He asks softly, kissing your cheeks and pulling you even closer.

"Mhmhm." You hum and nod, feeling your walls tighten around him. Just like the feeling of butterflies in your stomach that you were beginning to feel.

He chuckled, speeding up his thrusts, making an even louder sound of skin hitting skin. He wouldn't be long either, he'd probably come right after you.

And there you went the moment he started making circles with his thumb on your clit, you're sure you went to heaven at the same moment.

Your lips parted only for you to let out a silent scream, a noise that came from deep in your throat. He was quick to pull you into a hot, thirsty kiss, moving at a much faster speed than before.

He wanted to get there now.

In and out he went, feeling his cock throb with each jerk of his hips. On the last thrust he came, thrusting deep, spilling all his seed into you, as deep as he could.

He let out a grunt through your lips, holding your sides tightly.

By the end you were panting, covered in a thin layer of sweat. When the kiss ended, he rested his forehead on yours, giving a silly, tired smile.

"Sore?" He murmurs under his breath, trailing kisses down your cheek.

"Maybe a little." You whisper, closing your eyes and sinking into the mattress.

He then gets off you and places you properly on the bed, rolling you under the covers, and then doing the same. He hugs you from behind and cuddles you, giving you massages in the places he knew would be sore. He loved worshiping your body, and you couldn't complain.

"I love you." He says, full of love and tenderness.

"I love you too." You return, kissing his hand.

You fell asleep a few minutes later, and he watched you sleep as always, giving you kisses and caresses from time to time.

He loved you so much he couldn't explain it, you were his comfort. Everything he needed most. You and your son were his adored little family.

And the way he loved you, he knew that you would be the death of him.

Oh God, how he loves you.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n #leon x you #leon resident evil #leon kennedy smut #re leon #resident evil leon #leon scott kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon smut #leon re4

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cloveroctobers · 3 months

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FEBRUARY FLUFF — CARMY BERZATTO.

A/N: so carmy won this time around!!! Thanks to all those that voted and ultimately made this decision for me lol. Hope you guys enjoy this and have a safe, healthy, and happy love season 🩷 + yes this is a mixture of fluff and angst...i mean come on! I wouldn't be me if i didn't include that in here somewhere!

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + HERE & I’m using: 1. “…Okay, so the only way for us to enjoy that huge discount is to act like we’re dating.” “What, so you’d fake date me for discounted food but you wouldn’t real date me even though I could take you out to the best restaurants out there in town every fucking night if you wanted me to?” + always giving the other the first bite of their food < or the last.

WARNINGS/SN: I wrote with a black or brown reader in mind although reader isn't physically described + they’re given a name only when mentioned, language is a thing here duh!, this is LENGTHY, lots of timelines: reader + nat became friendly before season 1 during the summer prior to 7 fishes which is estimated to be five years before season 2, reader knows of carmy due to past work, I feel like she can be just a few year(s) older than carmy but younger than nat—there’s a age gap for the Berzatto’s anyways, sexual relations are mentioned, this piece takes place months after the grand opening, & finally there’s a possible chance for a poly relationship or maybe just multiple crushes going on? Take that how you will.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

it was a Sunday.

The kind of Sunday you woke up embarrassed about but knew you had to swallow your pride and just send out that text. You knew you wouldn’t be judged regardless reaching out to Fak because he’s built to deal with things like this and never made you feel like shit about anything.

You usually had to squeeze it out of him to get him to lay out any cons about a situation but appreciated most times when he didn’t. Your minds been going haywire with a recent assignment as a food journalist and it really slipped your mind, although you were usually a quick thinker, you’ve been stressed over this recent restaurant. Thankfully it clicked for you after throwing a tantrum to simply reach out to Fak to come help you out.

The stupid lever in your bathroom decided to stop flushing on you and of course you panicked. Who wouldn’t panic in a situation like that? You no longer had a roommate and strongly debated if you even wanted to search for another; after the shady actions of the previous one, so you really didn’t have to worry about them giving you shit either. (Let’s see if your rent feels the same next month!)

It was just you in the end and perhaps you were learning to be okay with that.

Yet that didn’t stop you from FaceTiming Sydney about it. “Hey Siddy, how’s your day going?”

“Pretty good, yours?” She politely asked as she moved down the hallway of her shared apartment to prop her phone on the pedestal sink, moving around her functioning bathroom to grab some oil to grease her scalp.

Smacking your lips you glare, “it fucking sucks.”

“Oh?” Sydney questioned, appearing back in frame, “what happened? Did someone egg and scratch up your car again after a review you gave them? Noo wait, don’t tell me there’s a bullet hole?!”

That was light work compared to New York (it really wasn’t a competition of which state had its worst moments but your home state left you kinda triggered, not gonna lie!) where you were just starting off and those that were in tune with the culinary world didn’t take your words with a grain of salt. Most nights you still woke up gasping for air, reaching for your throat due to some trauma of a break in from a well-known nepo-baby chef. Don’t get that twisted, your mom didn’t raise no punk but that didn’t mean those events didn’t mess with your mental and you acknowledged that every time you had a nightmare. They only served three years and five months compared to the original five year sentence.

Ah the system…got to love how that works out for the privileged!

You shrugged, “no…the threats have been pretty tame lately so I can give myself a pat on the back for that. However! I still am in a crisis.”

Sydney begins to move her braids around to expose her scalp, “Elaborate for me.”

“My toilet won’t flush!” You whine, laying flat on your messy bed. You tended to not make your bed on Saturdays and didn’t get around to making it today—although it was after 3pm.

Sydney asks, “Like the waste won’t go down…?”

“Exactly!” You confirm throwing your arm over your eyes dramatically, “The lever thing is moving like my old dislocated shoulder.”

Sydney gags, “don’t fucking remind me of that day. That was spooky to witness but I am glad you healed from that.”

“Thanks girl, means a lot, truly.”

Sydney gives a small smile, “don’t mention it…have you considered YouTubing it? That’s what I do when I don’t want to ask anyone for help and figure it out by myself.”

You hummed knowing this was true. In a sense you could be like that too, especially when it came to the working field, since writers can tend to be some nasty bitches and always in rivalry with each other. You made a name for yourself in Chicago as well, coming from New York where you worked just as hard-maybe even harder than the rest to mean and write exactly how you felt about cuisine, regardless if anyone agreed or not. It wasn’t about if people liked you, the relationship with food would always be more significant and hold value in your life, just like the rest of these chef’s you encountered and you got that, people were allowed to be sensitive about their work. You’ve come toe to toe with many chef’s around the world who didn’t like your take on their craft but that didn’t mean you didn’t understand them. They hardly took the time to really dive into your ratings and automatically took it as you shit talking or not having any idea what you were saying since you “weren’t really a chef,” but you knew your worth most days.

Yes you could be straight forward but that didn’t mean you lacked compassion like some chef’s liked to think according to your reviews. You often wrote in a way that was puzzling to some, almost philosophical or riddle like with your own twist. Some just didn’t get it and that was okay but you wouldn’t back down from any confrontation. The second they didn’t want to really listen, that’s when you removed yourself from the escalating problem. It didn’t have to get violent like some wanted to inflict.

“Why didn’t I think of that?!” You exasperated, slapping the palm of your hand to your forehead.

Sydney snorted, “maybe because you’re under a lot of pressure lately and the most simplest of things don’t come as easily as they should.”

“You would think I have high blood pressure with the way these past two weeks have been.”

Sydney says, “give it time.”

“Gee, thanks! That’s exactly the kind of shit I want to hear from you.” You roll your eyes at the blurt of words that commonly escaped the braided girl’s mouth.

Sydney breathes out a laugh, “I’m just joking!”

“Yeah, yeah! Maybe I should text fak back and tell him not to come by!”

“You asked fak instead of the apartment manager?” Sydney is in amazement.

“Fuck that noise, he’s so full of shit that he should see a doctor about it. He’ll show up to analyze the problem, then acts like he’s going to fit you into the schedule and then when you catch him in the lobby he pretends that he has amnesia.” You commented with a scowl.

You get ready to minimize the call to text fak but some obnoxious knocks at the door made you pop up from your bed. “That was fast!”

Hopping up from the bed and padding out of the last bedroom in the apartment, you made the journey through the foyer to the awaiting black front door. Peeking through the peephole you spot Fak grinning widely up into it, almost making you jump back.

“He’s made it Siddy! I’ll call you back!”

“K. Good luck!” Sydney calls out before you end the call to pull the door wide open.

“Neil!” You scream, quickly latching onto his tatted wrist ready to yank him in until you notice someone else is with him, “…why is he here?” You point.

Fak quickly glances over at a brimmed Carmy who raised a brow at him in a silent told you so manner, “I mean we were having a boy’s day when you called and I didn’t want my buddy to be left out. Plus, it’s always great to have some assistance.”

“…i find it hard to believe that Carmen wants to fix my toilet.” You cross your arms, poking out your hip as you stare at him.

Carmen shrugs his shoulders, “I wanted to wait in the car if it makes you feel any better.”

“Hmm…it doesn’t.”

Carmy rolls his eyes, pinching at the bridge of his nose briefly in agitation, “you know what, fak you’ve got this right? I know you do so—

“Nope!” Fak quickly interrupts, “this maybe a two person job so aspie if you just let us do what we came to do—

Shooting an arm out to block the doorway you peer into Fak’s dark teal eyes to show you mean business, “didn’t I say I dislike that nickname, Neil?”

He nods.

“Also i find it offensive that you brought an uninvited guest to my place.”

“Just be glad it wasn’t Richie because that was also a possibility before he ran off to pick up the kid.” Carmy snaps making you roll your eyes.

If Richie was here you been would have slammed the door in both Fak and his face. Sure you had some sort of tension with Carmy and beef with .......his cousin but at least Carmy only gave it back to you when he had the energy to—meaning if he was already on one. The issue was simple, you wrote a not so nice review once before when the eldest berzatto, Michael was alive and running the joint. Richie couldn’t forget that and actually kept the clipping, yes the clipping of the review way back when. He had the receipts to show Carmy and Carmy actually brushed it off then, not seeming to really care or doubt some of the words that were said.

He came to revamp the place because Mikey left it for him, to fix the mess his big brother left behind, to create what they’ve always dreamed of. Sure he got shit for it in the beginning and part of him felt like maybe that was your case too? He could relate to you on that, yet the weight was slightly different on his part and he even spoke with you not long after he found those tomato cans.

That gave him a certain push he couldn’t really explain. He may have done a brief dive on you, wondering why you felt acquainted to him—completely forgetting about seeing you once around Noma—choosing to start with reading previous reviews by you on other restaurants here in Chicago and a few interviews you’ve done over the world. You weren’t just some nobody, you held your titles well and it reflected in your work.

You weren’t clueless.

He just didn’t really know what he was dealing with until a short time ago.

What he didn’t expect was for you to show up again on opening night with a certain head chef, also from New York. That made carmy more anxious than anything, seeing you sitting beside that four eyed fuck ready to set off a tornado in the heart of the bear. Was that your motive all along? With carmy attempting to build a bridge, not for you to kiss his ass with praise but there was a odd need to have a simple conversation with you. It was weird but it seemed like Sydney, Fak, and Nat liked you?

The jury was still out with the rest—except Richie but you were a mystery to Carmy. However carmy wasn’t the best at putting a read on people or their emotions in the first place, he was good at fucking that up unless you’re screaming it into his face. That’s just how he operated.

“You two can come in—only because I don’t have the patience with the manager here and Neil’s the best I’m gonna get.” You state while fak slaps a hand on his chest.

“That was really sweet, Aspen.” Fak cooed ready to pull you into a bone crushing hug but you hold up a finger.

“Save the hugs until after you fix my problem.”

“You got it boss,” Fak salutes before diving under your arm to travel through your apartment, ooo-ing and ah-ing before finding the bathroom around the corner from the living room.

Sighing you drop your arm and wave carmy through, who keeps his view straight while traveling through the hallway. You call out to him, “you can have a seat on the couch.”

“What? Did you drop a load or something and is that the real reason why you don’t want me to help Fak?” Carmy comes right out with it, nose twitching in amusement after whipping around to face you in the center of the living room.

See…only when he’s frustrated or overly focused will he just let it out. Some may look at this as Carmy attempting to make a joke but you took that somewhat personally. The only thing you were thinking after he said this was: What an ego on this one huh?

You stop on your heels and tilt your head to the side, “are you telling me that you think women or fem pronoun users don’t take shits? Do you know what it feels like to have period shits?”

Carmy blinks at you and shouts with his hands out, “I...don't even know what the fuck you're getting at? I wasn't even trying to be sexist to you just then! I asked you a honest question—

“About you being in my business,” you pointed out, “contrary to your beliefs I have a heart and decided to be nice to you and let you stay in my place to keep warm. You’re welcome!”

“Oh bullshit, don’t act like you’re doin’ me any favors.” Carmy scowls, “you don’t even want me here.”

You shrug, “yet you’re here in my apartment, yelling.”

Carmy exhaled while you smirked at him sweetly before turning to lean against the wall that leads to the bathroom.

“Everything okay in there, Neil?”

“Oh yeah!” He says, “I think I figured out the problem. Easy peasy!”

“Great!” You exclaim, pulling your phone out from your sweats to read a very important email.

The weight of stress seemed to lift a good chunk as you quickly responded to a email that you’ve been waiting for. You’ve been invited out (squeezed in) to a taste test at this restaurant for this evening that you’ve been trying to get into for a month before you brought it up to your employer. The deadline was approaching for the end of this week to have a review ready and they just responded to you five days before that deadline! Reading over it twice, the squeal in you slipped through your smile until you read the exceptions.

If you were to go over the amount of food purchased, which you would put on the company card anyways, you can get a discount if you brought a plus one and some reimbursement if the review was satisfactory to the owners—which the last part wasn’t unfamiliar to you.

You usually didn’t bring a plus one to any of the places you did reviews for, you got comfortable doing outings all on your own but this was different. Sure you were somewhat known in the culinary world but that didn’t mean you were a millionaire and this restaurant was apparently upscale. There was a waiting list regardless of your status—even for the celebrities that went there so this was a big deal and they gave you a short notice. Usually Sundays were known for a reset for the week but what better way to start it?

You don’t go forward with reaching out to anybody else that you work with. This was your battle and you were aware that two of your other co-workers also reached out to this restaurant. You just hoped you were the only one they picked and wouldn’t miss out on the great opportunity just because you weren’t sure about your guest.

A few hours before show time and you had to find somebody to attend with you. Your best friend was away in Cabo for a honeymoon, the other (who recently planned on moving to ATL) was dealing with the flu and had their no good ex boyfriend taking care of them, Sydney was suddenly MIA, and you even considered inviting Natalie Berzatto to piss carmy off just a bit.

“Hey, Nat!” You greet into the phone as you walk into the kitchen, witnessing Carmy perk up from the couch.

It’s small talk at first: you asking about how her day is going as a mom to be, if she’s going to be at the bear tomorrow, did she watch the Emmy’s the other night, tell her husband you said hello, and then finally if she had plans for tonight.

“…are you asking me to hang out?”

“We had fun at that club way back when no?”

“Yeah! But that was how long ago?”

You knew it’s been awhile. You were always friendly with Natalie, meeting her first—well second out of the siblings down at the small mart one summer you helped out at that your great-uncle owned. She was huffing about something her boyfriend at the time, Pete forgot to bring her and some groceries she was picking up for her mom. You were cool enough to become Facebook friends, exchange numbers, go out for coffee and go to the club together. This wasn’t unusual to call each other randomly but you knew she commonly got shit from Michael and Richard about her talking and hanging out with you.

The thing about Natalie Berzatto is that she always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt. Yes she saw your review yet she kinda laughed about it initially but it was all fuck you’s from the other two loud mouth’s. Of course she was going to listen to her brother but she still had a mind of her own. she didn’t care to listen to Richie go off but she understood how Michael felt, although she was the only other Berzatto that heard you out.

Except you didn’t owe anybody an explanation even if some felt you were more cutthroat in your younger years.

“...Before you and Pete even thought about marriage?”

You were younger than them but you imagined how it would always work out for Nat and Pete, which included growing old together.

“Wow! Yeah that sounds right.”

“So…?”

“Can’t do it.”

“You didn’t even hear all the details!”

“I know, I know and it sounds like it’ll be a real fucking blast but if this kid wasn’t sitting on my sciatic nerve constantly and if my feet weren’t the size of two honeydews…I totally would! But I’ll have to decline this time around—so please don’t hate me!”

“I could never!”

“You know you could always ask carmy-

“Why on earth would I do that?” Your reply was instant.

Natalie sighed over the phone, “aspen…the potential of friendship and love is a beautiful thing.”

You scrunched up your face at the phone before placing it back to your ear.

“Do you want me to hang up on you?”

“I’d call you a rude bitch if you did but then get over it.”

“I can live with that because I know it’s real love between you and I.”

“…whatever that means.”

“Right.”

You both laugh, knowing just how weird the subject of love can be. Although you didn’t talk all the time it was always okay for one of the other to drop a venting text or call each other’s way and know the other would get around to responding. The both of you may not be the best of friends but you did consider each other friends regardless. There were conversations between the both of you that no one knew about and would be a constant reminder of what kind of friends the both of you would remain.

Natalie wished things could have been resolved between you and Michael but she reassured that the dislike wasn’t as deep as it seemed. There was no secret that you felt awful about how his life ended and being there for nat during that time also meant a lot. She told you that one of the last conversations she had with Michael was about you and it felt as if he was learning to let go of your review, slowly taking in Nat’s words of you not having a cruel bone in your body especially with all that you’ve done for her.

Anybody that showed his sister true friendship couldn’t be complete garbage. As much as he tolerated Pete, Michael was always aware that he was good enough for his sister. They were all cut from different cloths and the Berzatto’s were just from the same but opposite corner’s.

Natalie telling you this was not to erase any worries you had since that is always brought to the surface when someone you’ve been face to face with before decides to end it all. It was to show you that nobody ever truly knows what anyone is thinking whether there is love there or not.

You can feel Natalie smiling through the phone, “Think about it…all that tension could be smoothed out if you extend the olive branch…now it’s your turn.”

“It’s not my fault he switched up on me after your opening night.” You didn’t lower your voice or make it louder but you were definitely staring at carmy now who was side eyeing you, looking like phineas from phineas and ferb.

“That’s something you need to talk to him about, don’t you think?” Her tone was always so gentle that it made you sick sometimes because she could be right.

“I’m not here to do think pieces.”

“…aren’t you a writer?”

“Have a good night, nat.”

“Ta-Ta!” Natalie sing-songs, “be sure to send me the deets later because carmy never tells me anything! Bye! Chat later!”

Hanging up the phone, you slide it onto the counter and tap your nails against the island. To the right of you, you pick up on some clinking in the bathroom—which sounds somewhat normal and zone in on carmy who’s also holding onto his phone but staring at the blank tv in thought.

“Hey, Carmen.” You call his name.

His bright blues turn to you as if he hasn’t been eavesdropping on your conversation here and there between his texts with Marcus.

“You. Me. The Saffron Simmer. 7pm.”

The air is frigid as the both of you hunch your shoulders shoving through Chicago’s winter. Shockingly the streets are filled with cars tonight so you had to park on the next street over before walking up and around to The Saffron Simmer. Carmy offered to drive, which was a debate—no shock there—since there was no way he was leaving the bear stock van behind for no license having fak to play around in.

Fak definitely found that offensive and said he didn’t mind hanging out at your place, being done with your toilet but with the look you sent him he said he’s find an Uber or fak2 can pick him up. It’s not like you didn’t trust fak in your place…it’s just that the possibilities of what he can get into are endless.

You also didn’t want to ride in the bear’s van not because of shallow reasons, you just wanted to annoy carmy just a bit more for fun. Walking mostly everywhere was the way to go growing up in New York and Carmy working there so doing so here in Chicago wasnt foreign either. However with the type of cold here in this city is enough to give the bravest of hearts hypothermia. So obviously driving was the best option, it’s just the petty back and forth between you two of who will drive had to be spewed.

Eventually you gave in and sat in the passenger side of the van, being on DJ duty for the twenty-five minute drive—something carmy didn’t care to argue over. The both of you made it on time, throwing the door back for carmy to catch then bouncing on your toes while he blew into his gloveless hands waiting on the greeter to find your reservation.

The pictures didn’t do The saffron simmer any justice. There was so much to look at with its modernized speakeasy décor and the high ceilings did a superb job of making the both of you feel small in the spacious space. Thankfully the dress code was business casual so you didn’t have to go all out but you still put in the effort of looking your best in simple attire. You’re shrugging out of your scarf, earmuffs, and puffer coat while Carmy is already seated; with only the removal of his cap across from you in a chair.

He’s watching you as you place everything neatly to the right of you before you're taking a seat in the leather oversized chair, then digging through your tote to pull out your notepad, Sony camera, phone, and bolt pen. You quickly scribble something on the first line and circle it before dropping your pen.

Rolling the sleeves of your long sleeves back underneath your blazer, you roll your shoulders with a close of your eyes before opening them with a look of determination.

“Wow, that was something.” Carmy tells you, making you set your eyes back on him, forgetting just that quick that he was your plus one.

Clasping your hands together you quirk up a brow, “What?”

“Watching you prep.”

You dip your head, “should have seen me before I got dressed…much worse.”

A smirk appears on the corner of Carmy’s lips, “oh yeah?”

“Well yes, I can contain myself in public, Carmen. Your home is supposed to be your safe space so that’s the best place to go a little crazy sometimes.” You inform, yet still not giving too much away.

“Why are you in your head about this place anyway?” Carmy peers around the slightly filled dining area before meeting your eyes once more.

You lift your shoulders, “have you seen the way they market this place? Giving not too much away although it’s top ten restaurants here and I can either contribute to its success or its downfall. They picked me for a reason so my review matters at the end of this year.”

“But you uh-get a thrill out of this shit don’t you? It’s what you signed up for, right?” Carmy is actually relaxed against the chair across from you.

Which is a sight to see.

You state, “it’s part of the job, if that’s what you mean.”

Carmy blinks and seems to get it, “and so you stay.”

“So I stay.” You echo while holding his stare, which is broken by a piece of the stone table lifting and showcasing the menu illuminated by sepia lighting in the dark of the restaurant.

Carmy’s bright eyes are wide as he stares at the menu that appears right in front of your faces. There’s a grin on your face as you rest your fingertips around its rough edges, almost as if you were expecting this while carmy blows out a breath.

“The hell is this place?”

You peek over at him, “some next level shit, berzatto.”

“Yeah…I think I’m starting to catch on.”

You turn your attention back to the menu, swiping your fingertips along the touch screen although you’ve heard things about the menu, which they kept offline since apparently it renews monthly.

“What looks good?”

“Uh…these pages aren’t even labeled." Carmy exhales through his nose, eyes searching all over the tablet, "I have no clue. You?”

The words come at ease for you, "One of almost everything maybe?”

“Sounds good...I guess?”

“On me by the way,” you state with a wink as you flash your company card.

“I’ll get the tip then.” Carmy pats his jeans, the left containing his carton of cigarettes, the right holding his keys, lifting his hips he checks for his wallet although he’s been sitting on his behind for about ten minutes now.

You don’t argue with that, eyes in awe at the selection of items as you start ordering, “don’t forget to order your drink.”

“Water should be fine,” Carmy mutters to himself, eyes scanning over the first strange title of water that is described as flower and ginger infused purified water and decides to go with that.

You finally express after rapidly letting your fingers go over the screen and taking a picture with your phone, “…Okay, so the only way for us to enjoy that huge discount is to act like we’re dating.”

It sounded so easy to you as you quickly shifted to pick up your pen and start writing notes.

“What was that?” Carmy pressed his elbows into the edge of the table, making sure he heard you right since he’s not even sure if he can trust his inner thoughts lately.

You’re still scribbling but also turning your face towards the messy haired chef, “you heard me. We have to act like we’re in a relationship because I’ve definitely went over the budget on the card.”

“That’s not really my problem?”

“Yes it is,” you demand, “you agreed to be my plus one so that’s that. Plus this menu further confirmed my suspicions from the email.”

Carmy scratches at his brow confused, “what are you talking about, aspen?”

“Here,” you swipe across your screen towards Carmy’s device, which brings up another screen instantly to carmy who’s in awe but scans over the details.

You didn’t share the email with him but he’s heard about how high tech this restaurant is but didn’t have the time to do his own research.

*Significant others in attendance are subject to applicable discounts.*

Carmy feels his stomach cramp at the fine print and it so small that he was sure anyone could have missed that.

Not you.

“…how exactly are we supposed to prove that, hm?” He's gripping at his greasy hair now, feeling himself getting a bit worked up about this.

You fanned your hand along, “just do what couples do and follow my lead...Depending on our witnesses,” you whisper as you look around, “they could always assume that’s what we are anyways.”

Part of carmy didn’t like how that came off.

“What, so you’d fake date me for discounted food but you wouldn’t real date me even though I could take you out to the best restaurants out there in town every fucking night if you wanted me to?” Flies out of Carmy’s mouth before he can even process what he’s saying.

That stoops you too, making you press your back against the chair in thought. That wouldn’t be going down in the notes, as you stare at the pen in between your fingers for a moment. Which brings you back to Carmy’s tatted fingers first that touched you in ways that romance novelist craved to write about.

So you may have left that out, how a shared conversation about the “heartless” review of then Chicagoland turned the bear melted into hot and heavy actions in the front seat of your Mazda. It hits you in those same flashes you take of dishes: the unsure sloppy kisses, you taking the lead to get Carmy to just touch you, shaky hands that trace the tattoo from your rib cage down to your hip before soon holding steady and angled just right beneath your red tapered trousers.

“Where did that come from?” You question just as a server greets you, delivering drinks and announcing the small plates should be out in the next five minutes with a timer appearing on both of the stone tablets.

Carmy says, “you—you didn’t just think I forget right?”

“Well I was hoping.” You were honest, “neither of us are ready for relationships—especially hearing about you and Claire.”

Carmy felt his eye twitch, “and how do you know about that?”

Sydney.

You wouldn’t throw her under the bus like that although you could tell carmy already knew.

“I have my resources but don’t think I’ve been asking around about you or anything like that.” You sipped at the raspberry mint cocktail, it could be stronger.

His thumbs are shaking first on the table top but his icy stare made your chest pulsate in a way you didn't particularly like, “…would that be so bad?”

You and carmy didn’t exactly know each other well enough besides a conversation once had and with his hand down your pants! and you trying to get him to crash, clothes still on right in the center of his lap—It was a spur of the moment hookup and you could tell it was not something that happened often for carmy. He never had time for it or bothered to get attached but there was something about you that had him thinking otherwise. What was supposed to be a one time thing that you swept to the back of your mind was being brought up again.

The annoyance overtook what that feeling brought in the front seat of your ride. You weren’t ignoring carmy after that but the both of you had a lot on your plate with him renovating a restaurant and you diving back into your own work. Both fields of work seemed to matter more and not once did you think he ever thought about you in that way.

Communication was important people!

And here you thought he wanted nothing to do with you, especially with you showing up to the grand opening of The Bear. Now here you were months later, basically at your benefit, face to face hearing only pieces of what Carmen Berzatto was thinking.

“Hey, guys!” A familiar voice gathers your attention and you both turn to see Sydney smiling at you two.

Carmy widens his eyes, “Syd, what’re you doing here?”

Sydney snorted, “doing the same thing you’re doing? Having dinner.”

“Right.” He lightly shakes his head.

“Oh my god…am I interrupting this um? Date?” Sydney quickly connected the dots eyeing the both of you back and forth while you’re choking on your drink, “you okay?”

She pats your back for you while you gasp and Carmy slides over his water your way although you have your own glass near by. Gaining some air, you swallow some water and breathe through your nose. Normally you would have a response for Sydney’s joke but given what carmy just said to you had your mind running along with some burning tears you wiped away.

“So this is where you’ve been instead of answering me back?” You decide to switch the subject-you were great at that-wheezing a bit while Carmy scoffs and looks away.

Sydney frowns, “huh? When did you call me besides the FaceTime call…” she starts and pulls out her phone, “oh shit sorry. I placed it on do not disturb like thirty minutes after you didn’t call me back. I got wrapped into some entail about the menu from one of the chef’s that works here and is also a friend.”

Carmy speaks, “Didn’t know you had a connect with anybody here, Syd.”

“Can’t reveal all my moves, Carm.” She winks and lightly elbows him while Carmy sends her a small smile and a shake of his head.

Carmy asks, “scooping out our competition?”

“Only a little," She pinches her fingers before continuing, "and my dad thought it would be a place I wanted to try.” Sydney admits, “and if you two weren’t on a date I’d say let’s make this a group thing! so I’ll be going! I see my dad coming back from the bathroom…he’s got like a bladder problem and I don’t know why I’m sharing that with you two. But bye! Enjoy and just know I’ll be keeping my eye on you two.”

“Fuck,” carmy exhaled feeling his nerves rising, “don’t do that.”

Sydney chuckles to herself and sends a wave to you two before walking back to her table by the window.

“Siddy kicked me to the curb for her dad,” you sigh resting your cheek into your knuckles for a moment, “can’t be mad at that.”

“But you can be mad at me for what exactly?”

“You wanna do this with me right now?”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

“I thought we could move past what happened—

“You can say it you know? Me with my fingers inside—

“Excuse me!” You hiss, “I don’t need you to repeat action by action thank you. I was there too. We both know what happened, we’d agreed we can coexist around this big ass city. I show up to support—

“Did you though?” Carmy pressed, “support me? Or am I waiting for something else to be thrown at me with your upcoming review?”

“What?!” You bite, “is that what your stank ass attitude is about?”

Carmy tightened his jaw just as the first serving was handed over. You let him sulk in that for some time as you study the plating of the four appetizers, making note of each before taking more pictures with your sony.

“I wasn’t there to write a review.” You reply.

“I saw you—

“Let me finish. I understand pressure so I get it but you have to learn to channel your anger and this grief, elsewhere and deal with it better without projecting it onto any and everybody. I’ll tell you that right now that won’t get you anywhere and especially with me, Carmen.” You affirm.

You’ve been in Carmy’s position before so you can speak with experience. He seemed to always be waiting for the worse to continue filling up his plate but it takes time to accept the good in life. He was giving you something but you weren’t sure it was the best option for the both of you and you weren’t afraid to say that.

“Alright…I didn’t come here to talk about feelings either you know? That’s what those meetings are for.” Carmy spills just a tad.

You stare at the vibrant but delicate plating but his tone and the soft upbeat tempo above your heads don’t go unnoticed. “What did you come here for then?”

Carmy blinks and snatches up a spoon, almost weighing it in his hands before he dives the utensil into the dish. He stares as the stretch of cheese, twisting the spoon to break it apart before holding the Macaroni and Brie with Crab out for you to take the first bite.

He doesn’t answer for awhile and so you do the honors of taking a bite and savoring it's texture and taste.

“…that’s not my favorite.” You announce and notice that Carmy waited for your view.

He raises his brows, “tell me about it?”

“They need different plating.” You deeply sigh, “I know that type of plating works best for a dessert and that’s not it. There’s more breadcrumbs than meat, which seems to not be fully removed from its shell so be careful with that. It’s also lacking flavor even with the brie, which is my least favorite kind of cheese in Mac, although many swear by it.”

Carmy flicks his attention to your disappointment to you scribbling into your notepad with a shake of your head. If he was making you a dish, he’d try his hardest to make sure it was everything you ever wanted.

He quickly has his share and thinks to himself.

Carmy can agree, this was lacking flavor and the breadcrumbs didn’t even have a crunch to them. You can’t just depend on the cheese to give you flavor in Mac and cheese.

“What’s your favorite dish? I—I don’t think I ever asked you that. We just went straight into talking about the beef.”

And doing dirty things in the front seat but who needs to relive that?!

You look up from your notes and lift your chin, “you’re looking at it. It’s childish I know...but that’s exactly what it reminds me of: my childhood. Mac and cheese! then as I got into my adulthood…crab kinda took over. Which is funny because I hated on it for so long growing up. My papa—my grandad, he helped my mom raise me, he's from Ocean City so you can only imagine the amount of seafood on our table.”

You’re smiling to yourself and Carmy can’t help but to feel his small laughter lines appear by his lips as you’re locked into some memory only you can remember vividly. This was the most Carmy was learning about you, sure it may not look like much but he didn’t feel the need to dissociate even if at times he really couldn’t help it.

You were the question mark that he wanted to figure out and get all the answers to. Maybe it was his gut and he shouldn’t have blabbed to sugar about you because now Carmy was thinking this was Michael’s doing.

If you believe in that shit.

So the both of you take your time trying the small dishes before getting the main courses. It seems the longer you sit across from each other—the tension was definitely still there especially with Sydney’s eyes burning into the two of you across the room and attempting to not get caught—although she had once or twice but gradually it lifted as you and carmy shared this time together.

He watched you work while you asked for his input before you told your own. He also provided a few things he would do to tweak it if he agreed with what you didn’t enjoy. Which was eye-opening for you, yes you went to school for journalism and sat in on some cooking classes once that also tied into your passion for learning. After completing your first degree you decided culinary may take you to different heights and enrolled into culinary school. You didn’t find the need to continue going through with being a chef after Copenhagen, finding writing to be your stronger suit but you still understood food and the relationship with it when it came to chef’s.

So you took carmy’s input into consideration.

With the last serving being a Asian dessert called, “Jjan Hae,” which consisted of: coconut rice pudding served with fresh citrus (orange, grapefruit, kumquat) and coffee ice cream, topped with crispy pop rice & a shot of Korean rice wine, it was a strange concept but the both of you came to terms with the dessert working well.

Carmy even took a video to show Marcus tomorrow at the bear and sent a photo to an old colleague, Luca, that you were also familiar with considering Noma was a thing that you didn’t bother speaking much on…but it was your turn to give carmy the last serving.

He hesitated since he had his own bowl, which he finished way before you did but it was clear you wanted him to have the last bite so he also took it while saying something with his eyes.

Breaking the stare, the both of you felt your phone buzz with a text. Carmy didn’t jump to answer it right away…he was the worst texter according to Nat and Sydney but you can answer for the both of you as it was a group text from Sydney who was long gone with her dad.

Siddy + (773) XXX-XXXX: Carmy, invite aspen to breakfast in the morning?? See you guys then! 👍🏾😉

“You guys do breakfast at the bear now?” You say lifting your eyes from your screen.

You heard Sydney made a mean omelette but you haven’t been back since earlier this year and you weren’t in the mood for that that night.

Carmy frowns and closes his eyes with a shake of his head, “uh yeah it’s a new thing that Syd came up with but we agreed to do that with everyone once a month…later this month. Why?”

“She wants me to have breakfast with you guys…knowing I’m not a morning person.”

“It’s not happening tomorrow anyway, so what is she talking about?” Carmy digs into his jacket, where he carelessly shoved his phone into after sending the photo off to Luca.

Another text rings out: at carmy’s place. just us three???

Not Sydney making plans and then placing it all at Carmy’s apartment.

He’s taking a breath, almost as a silent reminder for him to do so before his thumbs move over his screen: i don’t even eat breakfast, Syd.

Syd: well youre gonna.

~ Syd has notifications silenced 🌙 ~

“Well, looks like your work wife told your ass.” You laugh, which you translated into her message but didn’t comment further than that.

Carmy harshly exhales through his nostrils in disbelief, “my work wife huh?”

He didn’t hate how that sounded but he also never thought about marriage or relationships in awhile.

“Yeah…the proof is in the pudding, no matter what anyone says.”

Carmy pinched at his bottom lip as he attempts to dryly joke, “I thought it was rice? and what about outside work…”

“That’s something you have to figure out yourself.” You shrug, getting ready to pack up your notes and cameras.

You turn your attention to the table, which knows just when to lift as you tap on the screen to signal that you’re ready to pay while holding out your company card, “are you paying cash for the tip or card?”

“Uh, cash.” Carmy answers, “…what if I’m starting to think about what come’s next?”

“With Syd?” You question, your now sage and mint scented hands flying over the screen as you select the correct paying method before tapping your company card against the screen.

Carmy starts bouncing his leg underneath the table, “with everything.”

“Well…when you’re ready you’ll make moves to make it happen won’t you?”

Carmy dips his head, “you bet.”

And here comes the intense eye contact that you can’t help but to huff out some laughter.

“What’s funny?”

“It’s just people with light eyes always do this thing where they’re just staring into your soul you know? Like damn, relax!”

Carmy’s confused as he holds his wallet open, “uh sorry for having eyes?”

“Shut up, glacier eyes.” You tell while Carmy just snorts at you.

The both of you don’t waste any time rushing back to his car as the clock is approaching 10pm. The wind’s definitely picked up and the temperature dropped, making it easier not to get caught up in the night time city lights which you often liked to do. Back in the van, carmy doesn’t wait to crank up the heat and you don’t bother to mess with the radio this time.

“So?” Carmy asks as he waits for the car to warm up some.

You keep your attention outside the window shield, “yes?”

“What’s the rating?”

“What makes you think I’m going to tell you that, Carmen?” You continue holding yourself.

He sniffs, “I mean—I was sitting across from you the entire night while you told me some of your thoughts.”

“So you thought you should also get the final score? I don’t even know what I’m going to say yet.”

“Ah, I think you’ve got some idea.” Carmy lolls his head over to peek at you.

Laughter bubbles past your lips, “I do. I’ve absolutely had better because—what the fuck was that?”

Carmen feels a crooked smirk appear on his own face, “I don’t want to completely bash other chef’s work but fuck, I thought it was just me? You said it got a 4.3 out of 5? The ambience and service was spot on but…the flavor for most of the dishes?”

“I knew you knew something about seasoning,” you continued laughing while carmy rolled his eyes, “should spend less on the tech and interior and more on some fresh herbs.”

“Isn’t it called simmer saffron?”

That made you laugh even harder as you gripped your stomach, “You’ve got that so backwards!”

And carmy couldn’t help but to scan your features as you laughed and he felt his chest getting somewhat lighter? Just listening to the sound of you and being beside you. What kind of feeling was this? He’s felt it before looking at someone else but that feeling was more of a tug with that light while this one slowly poured in from the black.

“Don’t be too hard on ‘em though? There’s always room for improvement.”

“Sure, but we both know the bear is better and you guys don’t have a waist list months in advance.”

“We also don’t have any celebrities showing up either.”

“Yet.”

Carmy taps his fingers against the steering wheel, appreciating that, “right, yet…I’m sorry about March. I was too in my head about so much shit and you’re right, I took it out on everyone and I’m still trying to make up for it.”

“Effort doesn’t ever go unnoticed if people look and feel it hard enough.”

Carmy chews on his lips at that, “if you believe that…then why do you feel what I said about dating—uh us—about us dating is out of the blue?”

“I said that?”

“Your eyes did. It’s the most expressive thing about you which is funny to me when you talk so much shit about mine when you hide the rest of it away on your face. It’s fucking confusing but I think I gathered that from our dinner tonight.”

Carmy was just as detail oriented as you. It was in his language with food and maybe even in his tattoos that you tried to understand starting with his fingers first. The way he spoke about what he would do with the dishes that were lackluster, except for the dessert—that was pretty good. Carmy wasn’t much of a talker because he wasn’t sure how to express himself, always been that way since you knew of him at Noma…but he told just enough in his dishes and you told just enough between the lines you wrote.

Someone just had to look hard enough.

“…I ever tell you I was engaged? Of course I didn’t, we’re still…I don’t know what the hell we’re doing here Carmen but I’m starting to sense that we could be special if we both want this badly.”

“What do you want?”

“Does anyone ever really know?” You laughed, “ I guess someone to look past the circumstanial and I had that once but then he died. So that was the end of that.”

“You swore off love.”

“Love is many things but maybe I closed off the long lasting part.”

Carmy could relate to that as least with family. He never had much interest in romance even growing up because he lacked that confidence in anything being permanent besides the chaos he’s used to, then he found some of it once he proved what he fucking set out to do yet cooking was all Carmen really opened himself up to. While Luca and others encouraged him to have a night out in the town, he always left early or if there was one person that caught his interest, they get to talking and both get bored of each other since Carmy hardly made the move to take them back to his. Before Noma?

Maybe.

Back in Paris there was one that could have been permanent but Carmy had to break her heart since Noma was calling. Culinary was his true love and he honestly couldn’t tell you what she even looked like now if you asked him. Things that should have mattered tended to get buried in the blue of his mind unfortunately.

He didn’t have the time to be attached and you didn’t want to have your heart ripped out again.

“How’d—

“He was a firefighter.” Was all you said and just those words alone told carmy it was anything but peaceful.

It took a lot for carmy to scream at himself how Michael went out and he imagined it might have been the same for you. So he wouldn’t dare ask for further morbid details because what did that help?

So maybe you weren’t wrong about the both of you not being ready to take that step on going on dates but change was everlasting.

“Uh—what about breakfast then after that not so great meal?” Carmy asks as he pulls off from the curb now.

You think about it. Really think about it that carmy starts to assume you may have dozed off.

“Depends on the time honestly? And who am I to turn down a free meal?” You beamed at Carmy who lifts his shoulders with a chuckle.

Carmy explains, “Syd and I usually start our days early, sometimes even earlier for me if I don’t get enough hours in. but thanks to the reno those on the early shift can get prep ready and I heard…you’re not a morning person?”

You’re just as sarcastic but there’s no lies, “I don’t even know my name or birthdate when I first wake up…what do you think?”

Carmy snickered at that, “okay? So how does 10am sound?”

“That’s pushing it but…I think I can be there so that’ll give me the rest of the day to work from home.”

Carmy nods, “can’t wait to read it. Shake on it?”

“On what? My review or showing up?”

“Both.”

“I’m not sending you a sneak peek, maybe syd or even nat but not you.”

“Ouch.” Carmy mocks, still waiting for your hand to touch his.

And when you do there’s a spark, that makes you yank your hand back and you feel like you’re in one of those cheesy teen movies.

You’re aware carmy’s felt that too but he just clears his throat and placed his hand back on the steering wheel. Leaving you to lightly massage the palm of your hand, now glancing at the profile of carmy’s face.

Life takes time to live but once you start to just let it be, the green starts to stand out more and can be equally as joyous…once you get through the rain and mud that is.

And once the ice blue sets back on you, the both of you can’t exactly see the future but there’s always warmth waiting for the cold to give them a try.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

February fluff anthology series continues here.

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nyasiaaaaa · 3 months

Text

In the Bleak Mid-Winter

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem reader (Nurse) Fem reader x Arthur ( platonic )

Summary: This is a story about two people who become constants in each others lives, and eventually fall for each. While one learns to love again, the other learns the cost of loving a man like him.

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Cursing, angst, fluff ,Tommy Shelby, y/n eats ( If I missed anything or you think something should be added please tell me.) Major character death from season 4 episode like 1/2

A/N: part 1 takes place during season two, part 2/3 season 3 and 4/5/6 season 4. This is a Slow burn there will be smut eventually.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 part 5

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

It's been a year.

A lot of things have changed since then; you've changed.

You're not the same person you were a year ago; you're still a nurse and still work in the hospital, but in London now.

You know the other nurse in hospital like the last, you eat lunch together but never go out. They always ask, but you always have the same excuse.

It's not like you're lying. You really don't have anyone to watch her, but if you wanted to, you could find someone, but don't. Honestly, though, you prefer the company of a bottle of whiskey over anyone else.

You also never have the energy to do anything anymore; you wake up throughout the night, then wake up to go to work, come home tired from a 12-hour shift, and go to sleep to do it all over again.

You barely eat, you barely sleep.

When you look in the mirror, you're just a hollow version of yourself, like you don't have control over your body. You're just sitting back as it goes through the motions, as someone else controls you.

She's not the only reason you can't sleep; if she's not waking you up because of her screams, you're waking yourself up with your own.

These nightmares are so haunting that most times, after you wake up, you just stay up.

And that's where you're at now, waking up from a dream like every other night.

You thrash around in your bed and suddenly wake up coughing as you grab hold of your throat. You get up from your bed, covered in sweat, and walk downstairs to the kitchen, rubbing your chest as you catch your breath.

You walk around the corner to the kitchen and instantly jump when you see someone sitting at your table in the dark. The old you would've freaked, grabbed your gun and threatened them.

But you now couldn't care less; you just grabbed two glasses and a bottle of whiskey off the drink table. You bring it over and set it down, pouring the whiskey into each cup, filling it halfway, and then sliding one over to your companion.

You then sit down and take a swing of your drink before reaching for your pack of cigarettes.

"Want one," you ask, holding a cig out to them.

They take it, and you pull out one more for yourself; you then strike up a match, reaching towards them to light theirs first; once they got closer to the flame, it became clear who was sitting at this table with you.

You light the cigarette, then pull the match to light your own; you take a drag, hold it in, and then blow it out. You do this action a couple more times, and neither of you says a word as you smoke; you both just sit there in silence.

You finish up your cig, put it out in the ashtray, then proceed to light another. Again, you smoke in silence, but this time, as you're almost finished with your cig, you speak up.

"I thought you would've sent Micheal," You say as you reach to ash your cig in the ashtray.

He finishes up his cig, putting it out before responding to you. "He was busy," he shrugs.

"'M honestly, I would've preferred Micheal." You put your cig out and then took a sip of your drink.

"Well, looks like you're out of luck 'cause I'm here."

"Yes, you are; please do tell me why it is that you're here after all this time."

"We got served a black hand," he spoke with such seriousness, but you were confused.

"Ok, am I supposed to know what that means or what it has to do with me"

He took a deep breath and said, "We have to tighten house. We killed one of theirs way back, and now they're coming to get even."

You pursed your lips and turned your head to the side, slightly shrugging your shoulders. "And what does that have to do with me."

"They killed John."

"May he rest in peace? "even though you didn't mean for it to, it had come out more like a question than a statement.

"But again, what does this have to do with me," you asked

He let out a dry laugh, licking his lips, then got up and got in your face. He took hold of your wrist and bent down to your height.

"Because the Italian Mafia doesn't care if you don't fuck with me, they are going to kill everyone that has ever spoken to me, anyone who's ever been close to me to hurt me to break me down before killing me."

Even though he tried to seem calm and collected, you couldn't see it in his eyes or face, but you could hear it in his voice.

He was hurting.

You ripped your wrist from his grip and stood up, moving closer to him and getting in his face.

"Well, Tommy, it seems like you have a real problem on your hands; best of luck to you." You smiled at him, then stood up and began to walk away

Suddenly, you were pushed against the wall and turned to face him.

"Look, I—"his speech was cut short once he heard a cry coming from upstairs; his eyes darted down to you, his head tilted as he looked at you.

"Tommy, I-"you start but stop once Tommy pushes off you.

You tried to get past him to go up the steps first, but he pulled out a gun on you and pushed you back into the kitchen. He slowly took a step back as you took steps forward.

"Do it, Do it, Tommy. Be a man. Do it," You said as you walked forward; you held your head high as you spoke so there was no room for doubt on Tommy's part.

He looked at you, puzzled, then shut the door in your face. You immediately rushed to the door, but it was too late. He locked it. You tightened your grip on the door knob as you jiggled it relentlessly,

"Tommy…. Fuck— Tommy, please" You were starting to panic; you had to get to her first.

You dashed over to the drawers and started to throw everything out and slam it shut as you moved on to the next one. The key was in one of these drawers; it had to be you had remembered putting it in here you—

You found it in the last drawer; you ran over to the door but slipped on the things you had thrown on the floor and fell on your back, making the key fall out of your hand. You hop on your knees, ignoring the pain in your back that grew with every move you made as you searched the now messy floor for the key; you can already barely see because of the darkness, but the tears that start to build only make it worse.

Your hand brushed against something sharp, and you turned your head in its direction as you stretched your hand out again, patting it around. Your hand instantly comes in contact with the cold metal key. You grab it, rushing to the door. You try to place the key in the door, but it keeps brushing past the hole.

You stopped, took a deep breath, and tried again, and despite your shaking hand, you were able to place the key in and unlock the door. As soon as the door opens, you ran up the step to her room.

It's too late.

You walk into the room and see Tommy holding your daughter in his hands.

Without thinking, you say, "She's not yours."

It's a lie, you know it, and so does he. Anyone could see from a mile away that she was his, and it's not like she looked like him or you even; she was still too young to look like anyone. But she had those eyes, the same eyes her father had.

You look up at Tommy and know you are in trouble. He had just met her, and already he was in love. He was already hell-bent on taking you with him, but now that he knew of her, there was no way he was letting y'all go.

You're about to speak up but get cut off by some men behind you.

"We're here, Mr.Shebly. What do you want us to do?"

You didn't turn around to see if you knew the men; you just kept your eyes forced ahead on Tommy.

"Pack up the house, everything; we'll go through it later and see what we want." He barely spoke above a whisper and never looked up as he slowly rocked your baby back and forth.

"Oi sir and your car is ready when you are."

"Thank you, curly."

They left, leaving you and Tommy alone.

You opened your mouth to speak but didn't know what to say, so you stood there like a gaping fish as you struggled to find words.

"It doesn't matter what you say; tonight, you will leave here with me, and so will the baby. You can put up a fight, but we will drug you if we must." The way he spoke, you knew he meant it; there would not be a fight, you couldn't take on Tommy, let alone all the men downstairs.

So you just nodded your head, ok.

Satisfied with your answer, he proceeded to exit the room but then stopped and turned towards you.

"What's her name," he asks.

"Ruby"

"Ruby," He whispers, "Hi. Ruby, grab what you want and meet me in the car," He says, then leaves and goes downstairs.

You want to cry, tear the room to pieces, throw a fit, and just sit there and cry. But you can't, so you make yourself and your daughter a travel bag, packing only what you need and leaving the rest for the guys to pack up.

You finish packing and head upstairs; you walk past the men packing up your kitchen and head straight for the car. Once you're outside, you see a man waiting for you by the backseat door; he opens it for you as you approach it. You walk up to him, handing off your luggage, giving him a smile, and thanking him before sliding in next to Tommy, who's still holding your daughter tight to his chest.

The driver places your stuff in the trunk, runs over to the driver's side, and hops in, wasting no time. He takes off instantly, driving to a destination unknown to you.

You glance over at Tommy, who is still in awe at seeing your daughter. You don't even try to take your baby away from Tommy, knowing that he will hold her as long as he can.

So you sit there staring out the window, saying goodbye to the place you've called home for the past year, and try not to cry.

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

For a long time, you were confused; you knew this wasn't the way to Tommy's house. It was east, and you had been heading west. You were about to ask where you were going, but then you started to recognize your surroundings, the shops you've walked past hundreds if not thousands of times. You even saw some people you knew past patients.

You were back in Birmingham.

Soon after you cross the line into Birmingham, it doesn't take long for you to reach your destination; you pull up next to many small townhomes.

Before you get the chance, your door is opened for you, thanking the driver as you step out and observe your surroundings.

"Where are we, Tommy," you ask.

"We're home," he says simply, then starts making his way into one of the homes.

You follow closely behind him as he steps into the house; you take in your new surroundings as you follow him; there are steps directly in front of you and a living room to your right that leads Into a kitchen. As soon as you step into the living room following Tommy, you're greeted by a maid who cut you off as you are about to ask Tommy another question.

"Welcome back, Mr. Shebly. I set Charlie down for a nap upstairs a few minutes ago and just put dinner in the oven. Do you need anything else from me before I go"

"No, Mary, that will be all thank you."

"It's not a problem, Mr.Shelby," she said, then went to leave but suddenly stopped at the door. "Oh, and I've had a bassinet put upstairs per your request." She gave both of you a tight smile, shutting the door as she exits, leaving you and Tommy alone.

Tommy doesn't say a word as he turns away from you and walks upstairs; you're about to start looking around when a knock comes at the door. You get to the front to open it and is greeted by the driver, who has your bags in hand. You reach out, taking them from his hands and setting them to the side before giving him a smile.

"Thank you so much; hold on, let me find my purse to pay you," you say as you step away from him in search of your bags.

The driver quickly stops you in your tracks when he calls after you using a name you've never heard associated with you.

"Oi, that's quite alright, Mrs.Shebly; Tommy pays me good," he said, giving you a smile, then shuts the door before you could even correct him.

"Ok," you say yourself as you shrug it off; you turn around just in time to see Tommy walking down the step, and you notice that your daughter is no longer in his hand. You assumed he must've put her down upstairs in the crib Mary set up.

Once he gets down the steps, he immediately makes his way toward the Living room. He sits down in one of the chairs, and you decide to take a seat across from him.

He pulls out his pack of cigs, offers you one, which you accept, and then takes one for himself. His lights yours first, then his own. You take a couple drags of your cig, then begin asking him a million questions you have swimming around in your head.

"How long do we have to stay here," you ask as you blow out smoke and then take another drag.

He shrugs his shoulders as he waves his hand around in no particular manner, "for however long it takes."

You press your lips tightly and roll your eyes; you take a deep breath and let it out as you speak again, "Are we staying here with you."

"Yeah"

"Is it safe?"

"Yeah, you will have two guards stationed outside 24/7."

"And where will you be?"

"Out"

"So Tommy, let me get this straight: I'm supposed to stay here for who knows how long, under constant surveillance from your men, and I'm assuming I'm not allowed to leave." You paused, waiting for an answer, to which he gave you a slight nod back. "Right, so basically, I'm a prisoner; I'm your prisoner. I'm not ok with that, Tommy. I-"

Arthur suddenly burst through your door, calling out for Tommy.

"Oi Tommy, I- "Arthur paused once his eyes landed on you; a big smile slowly crept up his face as he started making his way towards you.

"Sista, it's good to see you," Arthur said as he hugged you, picking you up slightly.

"It's good to see you too...... I'm so sorry about John," you said as you hugged him back, and you were being honest. You didn't miss anything from your old life, but Arthur. After all the years, y'all were around each other. He truly started to feel like the brother you never had.

Arthur pulled back from you slightly and looked you in the eyes; you gave him a tight smile, then pulled him back closer and hugged him tighter.

Arthur pulled back again as he asked you a question, "Oi, I heard I had a niece. Where she."

Before you were able to answer his question, Tommy interrupted you.

"Are you two finished yet" You heard Tommy ask from behind you, making Arthur drop you.

"Sorry, Tommy," he chuckled as he stepped further from you. "There's been an incident down at the boat house; we need you down there."

"Thank you, Arthur; I'll meet you outside," Tommy said, then went into the kitchen to gather his things.

Arthur gave you a small smile and whispered a quick bye before heading outside.

You turn to face Tommy, who is putting on his coat; you see his collar sticking up, so you go over to him to help him fix it. You grab onto the jacket and pull him in close to you.

"When will you be back?" You ask as you pat down his collar.

"When I'm finished"

"That's not cool, Tommy; we have things we need to talk about." You grab on his collar and tighten.

He gave you a look that you could only describe as assumed, then pulled you off him, holding your wrist in his hands.

"And we will when I get back," he said, dropping your wrist and walking away. He suddenly stopped and turned around to face you. "Watch Charlie for me," He said with a tight smile, then reached for the door.

You are so fed up with his bullshit that you pick up the first thing your hands touched and throw it at him.

"Fuck you, Tommy" You screamed at him as the glass cup left your hands.

Your aim is ass, so the cup smashed against the wall next to him, missing him by a couple feet. But still, it stopped him in his tracks; he stood there for a second, then turned around to face you, gave you a smug smile, then said

"You already did love."

He quickly went to the door, leaving you there standing there stunned.

You're so mad at him for coming into your life (again), picking you up, and dragging you into his mess (again). He constantly treats you like gum on the bottom of his shoe, and you're tired of it.

You have this anger building up inside you; you're so mad, so you do the only thing you can think of.

You scream.

You stand there and scream; you yell out towards the ceiling; you scream till your lungs start to burn. And then you collapse onto the floor.

How did you end up here again? You thought you finally got away from this life.

Before you had a chance to wallow in your self-pity, you heard a cry come from upstairs. You get slowly and make your way up the narrow stairs. Once you get upstairs, you notice there are only two rooms upstairs, one the bathroom and the other the bedroom.

You enter the bedroom and see Charlie still fast asleep on the bed, the only bed, you might add. Your baby cried from her bassinet, and you went over, picking her up and rocked her back and forth in her arms. She must've heard your scream and got startled. You were really loud; you're shocked that Charlie didn't wake up.

You were able to get her back to sleep quite quickly; you placed her back in her bassinet and walked out the door back downstairs.

As you walked down the steps, you started to sniff the air around you; it smelled like something was burning.

You took off sprinting towards the kitchen once you remembered the dinner Mary said she had placed in the oven. You yanked the oven open and reached in to take the pan out.

You jump back, saying a million curse words as you immediately pull your thumb in your mouth. You are so out of it that you forgot an oven mitt. You suck on your thumb for a couple of more seconds as you glance around the kitchen till your eyes land on the oven mitt. You grab them off the counter, head back to the oven, and pull the pot, placing it on the top of the stove.

You open the pot, and to your surprise, it's a chicken roast dinner, and it's not that burnt, only a bit; really, it just looks extra crispy.

You place the top back on and glance down at the clock next to the stove; it's barely a quarter past three.

You decide to let the meal cool down, you get your bag from the door, and put it up where you see best upstairs.

After you finished unpacking what you had on hand, you pre-made a couple of bottles for your daughter and then joined Charlie in the bed for a little nap after scooting him over a bit.

That boy sleeps wild.

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

You felt yourself being shaken back and forth softly as if it was too hard for the person to push you. You open your eyes slowly and squint as they try to adjust to the dark; you look around the room in search of the person who worked you up, and soon, your eyes land on the smaller version of Thomas Shelby.

The little boy turned his head to the side as she looked at you curiously.

You sat up on your elbows and took a quick glance over to the clock next to you; it was seven on the dot. You turned back and looked over at Charlie, who was still looking at you.

"Yes, Charlie," you asked.

"I'm hungry; where, Da," he asked, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands.

"He's out right now; I'm here. Is that ok," you asked; he nodded slowly in response.

"Ok, good, I have some food downstairs for you; we just have to get the baby up and well go, ok."

"Baby?"

"Yeah, come look." You stood up, grabbed him, placed him on your hip, and showed him the baby below.

"Who that"

You thought about your answer before you responded to him. You didn't see the harm in telling him the truth, so you said, "She's your sister; her name is Ruby."

He turned up to look at you so quick that you thought he gave himself whiplash.

"My sista," he gasped and then tried to reach down to touch her.

"Yep, but wait, be careful, I'll put you down, and I'll grab her and show you."

You put him down softly and then pick up your little girl; she begins to stir as you gently pick her up. You turned to see Charlie sitting waiting patiently with his feet swinging off the side of the bed.

You sat down next to him and turned your body to face him; he glanced down at the baby, up at you, and down at the baby again.

"Wow!" He said, then jumped down from the bed and took hold of your hand.

"Come on, me and baby hungry," he said, leading you downstairs.

Once you got downstairs, you had him sit at the small table in the kitchen, and you kept Ruby in your arms as you fixed him a plate and then yourself. You warmed both plates on the stove and grabbed a pre-made bottle from the fridge while you waited.

You sat down next to Charlie and offered him a proposition: "You want to feed her with me."

He shook his head up and down so fast and tried to reach out to her.

You pulled away from him slightly. "Wait, I'll hold her, and you hold the bottle, ok?"

He nodded and waited for you to give him the bottle; you showed him how to hold the bottle at an angle best for the baby and then let him take over.

He reached over you slightly as he held the bottle to Ruby, and she took it instantly, drinking fast.

After she was finished, you took her back upstairs to sleep; when you came back down, your food was finished warming, so you took both your plates out and cut up the food for him before handing it to him.

Together, y'all both sat at the table and ate in silence.

"Are you my new ma"

The piece of chicken you placed in your mouth instantly went down the wrong pipe, and you started to cough, your eyes began to water as your chest tightened. You reach for your glass of water on the table as you beat against your chest.

As you drank your water, you glanced over at Charlie, who had started playing with his food. You cleared your throat a couple of times as you rubbed against it and drank more water, then set the cut back down next to your plate.

You smack your lips against your teeth as you begin to speak. "Umm, w-what makes you uhhh what makes you say that."

Charlie shrugged his causal shoulders, still glancing down at his food. "You're staying here with me and da; you sleep in the same bed as me and da and your baby’s ma."

You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled look dancing across your face; you leaned down closer to Charlie and asked him a question, "You're four right."

"Yep," he said, popping a piece of chicken in his mouth.

"Um, yeah, no, Charlie, I'm not your "new" ma, and if I was, I wouldn't be your new ma, just another one, ok. Cause you ma Grace will always be your ma."

He didn't say anything back to you, just nodded back slowly; it was clear that he was full now and probably was sleepy again. You assumed that you both had a long day of travel and these significant changes would take a second to get used to.

You took both plates away, deciding that you were also finished eating; you quickly cleaned the plates and placed them in the drying rack. After you put the pot of food in the fridge, you pick Charlie up, take him upstairs with you.

By the time your foot hit the last step, Charlie was somehow fast asleep; you brought him into the bedroom and carefully placed him down in the middle of the bed. You grab the covers, bring them over his body, and tuck him in slightly.

After you check on your baby and find her still fast asleep. You decide to go back downstairs and sit in the living room to wait for Tommy; he should be home soon; he has been gone for hours now. Whatever he had to work on should be done by now……. Right?

You feel your oxygen supply getting cut off, and you start to struggle to breathe; you try to turn your head but to no avail because whatever's is on top of you is keeping you in place.

You begin to panic as you realize that you are asleep and have to force yourself away to be able to deal with whatever is keeping you from breathing.

You feel your fingers begin twitching, then your eyes, and finally, after what seems like forever, you're able to open your eyes.

You squint your eyes as you try to help them adjust to the darkness, but it's still pitch black; you soon realize that the reason you can't see isn't because it's dark but because something lays on top of you.

You lift your hand cautiously as you slowly lift Charlie's body off your head and back into the middle.

You lay there for a second as you try to catch your breath, then slowly, you sit up to check on your daughter, seeing as she has yet to wake you for a bottle tonight. You take a quick peek over into her bassinet.

She's not there.

You quickly shoot up in a panic, thinking your eyes are playing jokes on you, but once you get closer to the bassinet, you can confirm that she is not in there.

You try to take deep to calm yourself down, but it gets caught in your throat as you slowly begin to spiral, and your mind starts to race with a million questions.

Where is she?

How could I not hear someone take her?

When did I get up here?

Wait, you pause for a second and try to think back to tonight. You didn't get in the bed. You remember waiting on the couch for Tommy; you must've fallen asleep, but how did you get up here?

Your head quickly pans over your shoulder, and in the bed next to Charlie, you see Tommy and your daughter lying on his chest and a half-empty bottle on the nightstand next to him.

Relief floods your body as you slowly sit back down on the bed; you look back over at Tommy. The sight before you is truly something; if Tommy wasn't the devil reincarnated, it might make your heart swell. But instead, you're sitting there contemplating whether or not to get her off him and place her back in her bed.

She seems fine, and there isn't much room for her or Tommy to roll around plus the risk of having to deal with her waking up in a sour mood if you move her isn't something you feel like doing right now.

You lay back in bed next to Charlie, deciding to leave them be.

As you fall back to sleep, instead of counting sheep, you tell yourself repeatedly.

That this is just for now and that

Thomas Shelby is in your past and not your future.

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

Tag list:

@thhriller@macchiadinchiostro @naevisct @johnmurphys-sass @fannibalsrule @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @sis7890

I apologize if y/n having a kid is a huge turn-off for some people, mainly because there isn't any warning, and we're so deep into the story. I wanted it to be a surprise, but again, I'm sorry. Also, this isn't the last part. There are two more, and then that's it; I broke it down because I felt like having everything In one or two parts would've made it seem like Y/n and Tommy's end result would become too quick and not in a organic way. Also, I've been told this story gives dead doves don't cry or something like that; it's not, I promise, a happy end or as happy as person can be with Thomas Shelby. Anyways, thanks for reading. The story should be finished and fully uploaded all parts by Friday, Feb 9th.

P.S: I can't tell if this chapter is shitty or not I was just trying to get it out for yall so I'm sorry if it is.

#cillian murphy #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #michael gray #polly gray #ada shelby #thomas shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x y/n

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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 1 year

Text

Princess

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Smut (18+), spanking, fingering, PinV, choking, brat taming, slight bit of name calling (slightly dubious to have sex with someone after rescuing them from a kidnapping but we'll ignore that)

Summary: Reader is the daughter of a prolific genral who's been kidnapped while she was trying to party it up with her friends. Ghost and Soap are recruited to rescue her, and soon find out that reader's attitude might be more of a challenge than the gang they're trying to rescue her from.

(No use of y/n)

A/N: I can't get Ghost out of my head and tbh I kinda feel like he'd be so good at dealing with your bratty nonsense if he had to.

- 👑-

You were sure you were going to die.

Not because your family didn’t have the money, not because there weren’t enough resources to save you, or even because of your own natural pessimistic tendencies. No. You were sure you were going to die because your father had made it abundantly clear long ago that you didn’t matter to him.

You weren’t a man. You couldn't carry his title on and you’d grown up learning that that was mostly all he cared for. His legacy. It was one of the few things that cold man spoke of fondly, always lighting up at the mention of your brothers but never you. And as a result you’d grown up living for even the smallest chance at spiting him for it. You partied and drank and slept around with boys that made even your friends curl their lips at you sometimes.

So, you were pretty sure that once your kidnappers realised that, that could only mean one thing. One of those big guns they were carrying was going to end up pointed right in your face then…bang.

It was enough to leave you disoriented, you weren't taking in much. Not that there was much to take note of. Your eyes were shoddily covered over with a scrap of harsh, scratchy cloth and you could only see little slivers of things here and there. Your hands were duct taped to the arms of an office chair and your mouth was similarly covered so as to prevent anymore screams and curses.

You watched sets of boots as they echoed around the frigid room, and saw gun barrels and machetes, men roving across a scuffed up concrete floor. You didn’t catch anything that made you want to see more. Especially when you heard the taunts they slung at you in their thick accents.

“Don’t worry precious, I’m sure a spoiled little rich girl like you will get a good ransom, you’ll be home soon.”

“Bet you’re used to guys with big guns like this, daddy’s men must love you.”

“She’s a cute little thing, we should have some fun with her before we send her back.”

“I’ve heard she likes to have lots of fun, bet we’d slip right into her, fucking american girls.”

If the blindfold came off then that would only mean one thing. They were going to make good on the salacious threats they were now casually slinging your way. The fantasies they were now trading back and forth as they returned to speaking their own language. That was a small mercy at least. Not having to hear about how the last few moments of your life would go.

You could feel your body shaking like an addict in withdrawal and your poor heart was leaping around in your chest like a caught frog. It didn’t help that you were riling yourself up either, imagining what the newspapers would say. Flashing up in your mind like something out of an old batman episode with a blaring brass section accompanying them.

Daughter of a notable general killed in shock kidnapping

Holiday in Cancun turned nightmare as General’s daughter taken in the night

You couldn't even be sure if you were still in Mexico. For all you knew you were in all those other countries that you’d been too busy crafting a reputation to learn about in school. What were they again? Guatemala, Cuba? You were sure those were somewhere close by. Funny the things the mind distracts itself with when you’re stuck tightly in a chair surrounded by leering wolves.

If only you hadn’t been drawn in by that tattooed man with the big arms. If only you’d been a good girl and enjoyed your holiday and stuck close to your friends instead of going out on the hunt for attention from bad men covered in tattoos and cologne that smelt like bad decisions. You could practically hear your father’s growly voice echoing through your mind.

Stupid little girl.

He’d been saying that for as long as you had memories of him. He’d be satisfied now, you lamented. You’d proved him right in the end, he’d always said your lifestyle would catch up with you and you’d be wishing that you’d just behaved for once sooner or later.

At the very least, you figured, you wouldn’t have to hear him say I told you so.

- 👑-

You weren't sure how much time had passed. It could’ve been a few minutes, or it could’ve been hours, but as your breathing grew more ragged behind the tape you knew you were experiencing the last few precious moments you had left.

The men were sounding more and more pissed off as they rattled off curses to each other, filling the room with sharp hisses. They weren’t getting the results they wanted. They’d even removed the tape at some point and had you screaming out for a video, but apparently that wasn’t getting them anywhere either. They got tired with your cries and slapped an even thicker strip back in place.

You were starting to cry, feeling the stiff cloth go damp against your skin and irritating it further. It was so thick and itchy over your eyes, you wanted nothing more than to pull it off. You needed to see, needed to breathe. You were panicking. You needed out, you needed air, you needed to feel safe again.

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?

You were chanting it in your mind, it rang through your head like a death toll. It seemed like those would be your last thoughts. You’d die panicking and snotty and covered in dried salty tears that mixed into a sludge with your thick mascara.

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the-

Thiew.

Crack.

Thud.

Every muscle in your body froze as you heard an alien sound zip through the room. Then suddenly everything erupted.

The men’s shouts turned into screams and barked orders and suddenly you were being wheeled around in your chair in the dark like a shopping cart. You were whizzed past men that were running and crouching into your limited vision, aiming their guns and returning fire as more bullets wailed into the room. And finally you found yourself slamming into a corner somewhere, banging your knees against a rough drywall.

You screamed behind your gag and listened out as more men hit the ground and the guns grew into a cacophony of bangs. Death’s orchestra played for a solid few minutes, ringing in your ears and distorting the sound of your thrumming heartbeat as it crawled up through your throat and into your head.

You were sure you were going to die.

The battle raged on for a few moments more until suddenly the men’s shouts silenced and the bullets grew sparse. All you could hear was the echoes of gunfire and shrill ringing from your unprotected ears.

What was that?

You swore you could hear voices coming toward you.

“It’s alright, lass.”

You jumped as you felt someone touch your shoulder and cursed behind the tape in your mouth as the unidentified man tried to soothe you. It wasn’t until he pulled your blindfold down and you were greeted with his bruised face and ruffled mohawk that you calmed down, focusing your gaze on his icy pale eyes. He wasn’t one of the men who took you.

“I’m gonna take this tape off, ye good wi’ that?”

You frowned at the man, unsure if he was speaking english. You weren’t used to that accent, what was that accent? Scottish? Irish?

You only had a few seconds to look up at him blankly before he gave up on getting a response and ripped the tape from your mouth, drawing out a scream with it.

“You motherfucker!” you shrieked, feeling a layer of skin peel from your face.

“Easy! It’s ok! What's the sayin’ agian? Best to rip it off like a band-aid, yeah?” he chuckled.

“Not when it’s fucking duct tape over my face, you- you stupid- oh, oh no, my god, oh my god look out!”

You screamed as you caught a giant man emerging through the shadows and through the doorway into the dingy room you’d been wheeled into. A skull mask obscured his face and a massive gun was braced in his hands, he looked as if he could take on an entire army by himself. He was fuck off sized and ready to kill.

Your rescuer whipped around and raised his gun at your shout, body bracing and ready to defend you. Though, as he faced the hulking behemoth behind him he relaxed and lowered his gun again, cursing you through gritted teeth. Though, he turned back around to you with a smirk.

“He might be a scary lookin’ bastard, but that ones on our side,” he explained, slinging his gun behind him and getting to work on the tape on your wrists. “Sit tight and I’ll get you out of this in a sec, ok?”

“Is she hurt?” the masked man asked, flicking his dark gaze over your slumped body.

“Nah, doesn’t look like it,” the first man replied.

“She is scarred for life actually,” you huffed out, clutching your one freed arm to your chest. “What the fuck happened? Who the fuck are you two?”

“Settle down, princess. For now we need to get you out of here and back to your father, quickly and quietly, yeah?”

His accent was different from the other man’s, though to you it was just as difficult to make out through that thick gravely timbre. That one was definitely english, you thought, it sounded like ones from TV shows you’d watched when you were younger. It made you wonder what the hell the two brits were doing rescuing you when your dad was an American general.

Did he find them on Craigslist or something?

Typical of him to find a couple of brutish thugs to come fetch you rather than calling on one of the teams that he worked with, you thought sourly.

Though, as both your arms were free and you stepped onto wobbly feet you grew to appreciate his choice in rescuers more as they both towered above you. Even if they weren’t American they clearly knew their way around a fight.

“We’re gonna need you to follow us and do exactly as we say, ok? There’s still a few men lurkin’ about and if you want to get back to your family in one piece, we’ll need to avoid them,” the first man said, putting his hand on your tensed shoulder.

“You haven’t even gotten them all?” you hissed, escaping from his hold and backing against the cracking wall behind you.

The room was unfinished, crumbling from bullet holes and exposure to bad weather from the open windows. It looked like something straight out of a movie set, Soderbergh eat your heart out.

“We’ve gotten most of them,” the Scottish/Irish man shrugged, reaching around to secure his gun in his arms once again. “Some probably ran off durin’ the fight, but we can’t assume they aren’t hiding somewhere waitin’ for us.”

“Just be a good girl and do as you’re told, ok princess?” the other man growled, turning away from you and walking back out of the room.

Your mouth dropped open and just as you were about to fire off another retort, it died in your mouth when you heard a shot ring out from the hallway.

“All good, LT?” the first man called out, ushering you behind him.

“Solid, Soap,” the other man replied.

Soap?

That’s just great, you thought, you were stuck with a man named soap and his big ape of a friend wearing a spirit halloween special across his face. You could practically feel your chances of survival drop through the ground and into hell. You could feel the hot flames licking at your feet already, biting at your toes. Or perhaps that was the fact you’d been stuck in heels for an inappropriate length of time. Who knew?

“Alright, lets get movin’. Remember to stay close and stay quiet. We don’t know where these guys are hiding,” Soap reminded you. “Stick to my back and we won't let anythin’ happen to you, alright?”

You were out of sass for the time being. You could only nod your reply as you followed his orders, too afraid of him leaving you behind as he started advancing out of the room.

You might have felt annoyed at the fact they were treating you like a stupid little girl, but you were too wrapped up in the adrenaline of the situation to object anymore. You’d heard the gunfire, could still hear the echoes of it pelting through your ears. You knew you couldn't afford not to listen to the two incredibly patronising soldiers before you.

“Try to keep your eyes up, lass,” Soap whispered, gazing back at you briefly before heading through the doorway.

“Why do I have t- oh fuck!”

You could’ve thrown up as your eyes connected with the bloody corpses that littered the hallway like flies on a roll of catcher paper. There were so many of them. You could feel the bile fighting its way up your gullet as you stopped against the wall and closed your hazy eyes. Bodies. Actual dead bodies.

You’d never seen one before. Yet here you were surrounded by them, queen bee of a dead hive. It was too much. Staying up felt like fighting gravity and you were reduced to a pile on the floor in no time, huddled on a relatively blood free patch and stuck still against the rough chalky grey wall to your side.

“Ghost, we’ve got a problem,” Soap muttered, staring down at you with a worried look.

There were a few seconds of blessed silence where you closed your eyes and everything was ok for a second. You weren’t in a shithole crack den building in god knows where and instead you were back at the hotel, getting ready to go to bed with your girlfriends. Yes. You were going to put on pyjamas and take some painkillers and peace the fuck out till noon the day after.

“Fuckin hell.”

The growl brought you out of your daydream and soon you were looking up at the cold crocodilian eyes of the now named Ghost. Had he expected you to do better in the hallway of a thousand corpses?

“Alright, princess, up you get.”

You whimpered and expected him to offer you his hand to get you to your feet again, but you were taken by surprise when he leaned over you and enveloped you in his huge arms. You weren’t sure what the hell he was doing at first, but all became clear as you were hoisted over his shoulder and sprawling down his back like a chef’s tea towel.

“What the hell, dude! Put me down,” you growled out, thumping your fists against his thick layer of tactical gear.

“Quiet down, sweetheart. It’s not like you’re much use in those heels anyway,” he growled out, tugging on one of your silvery strappy shoes for emphasis.

“You can’t just pick me up like a sack of fucking potatoes!” you protested, continuing to feebly fail to fight your way out of his grasp.

“Apparently I fuckin’ can,” he chuckled, rumbling in that horrible patronising voice of his. “Now…Settle. Down.”

And with that he started moving again, taking you past the tour of bodies that you’d folded at moments before, stepping through them like you might do through a botanical garden. The men were poked full of bullet holes and some even had knives jutting out of their skulls, but it didn’t seem to phase your rescuers. They were in their element. You were decidedly not.

You felt like you were going to be sick and wondered briefly what the terrifying man would say if you were to throw up on him. Would he drop you as revenge? You quivered in his arms as he moved through the halls, following his partner faithfully in the shadows, only seeing by the light of the moon in some sections of the house.

Not soon enough, after being thoroughly traumatised for two lifetimes, you emerged out of the house you were in. Only hearing two more men be taken out before you were free to breathe fresh air again. You cleared out the disgusting smell of coppery blood and gulped in huge breathfuls of clear night air.

Air. Moonlight. Stars. You were in a barren front garden in the middle of nowhere. You could see out for miles toward that inky black sky on the horizon.

It wasn’t like something out of a nightmare anymore, this was real. And it was a new kind of scary. It was night and it was cold and your shivering renewed again as the giant placed you back down on your feet and let you stand on your own.

Why was it so fucking cold?

“You see anyone else?” Ghost asked his partner, sticking faithfully by your side.

“Negative. Think we’re good to move out, LT,” Soap said, giving his surroundings one last careful scan.

“Thank fuckin’ god. Might even get back to the safehouse before mornin’ at this rate.”

Safehouse?

What?

“Um, what do you mean safehouse?” you prodded, feeling the cold start sinking into your clattering teeth.

“It’s a house that’s safe,” ghost ‘helpfully’ provided.

“I fucking know that,” you said through gritted teeth, “what I mean is, why the fuck are we going to a safehouse? I need to go home. I need to get to an airport or something or like- like you should be calling me a helicopter or something! Why would we go to some safehouse and stay here any longer?”

“Your dad ordered us to take you there once we had you secured,” Soap said, staring over at you with a calculating gaze. “Now are you going to come get in the car yourself or does Ghost need to pick you up again?”

Fuck you.

You didn’t give either of them the satisfaction of answering.

- 👑-

“He’s doing this to punish me isn’t he? It’s fucking typical you know! Only he would pull this shit, only my dad would find out I got kidnapped and send in two fucking random Englishmen and not even want to get me home-“

“Whoa! Watch it!” Soap shouted, interrupting you mid rant. “You can call me a lot of things, but don’t fuckin’ call me English, sweetheart.”

“English, Scottish, Irish- whatever the fuck you are! Point is he should be here! He shouldn’t be letting me stew in some random safe house with you two…two- two strangers,” you whined, throwing your arms up in the air. “For all he knows you could both be serial rapists!”

“We’re two strangers that just saved your life, princess,” Ghost grumbled from the front seat. “And if your dad is punishing you, then I think I’m beginning to see why.”

Your mouth dropped like a lead weight and you stared daggers into the mirror, catching Ghost’s cold eyes in the reflection. He was still wearing the mask.

You were driving on country road that stretched almost limitlessly into the horizon but for some reason he was still in disguise. Not that you cared to see his face! No, if anything, you hoped you’d be out of their company much sooner rather than later for him to reveal himself. Though, that wasn’t going to happen it seemed, so you resolved to make that everyone’s problem. Share the burden of being abandoned to Mexico.

“In case you haven’t realised; I’m not exactly accustomed to dead bodies and I’ve just come from the midnight showing of night of the living fucking dead here! I should be getting wheeled into a therapists office right now, not getting bundled up into another strange house, spending the night with Micheal Myers and groundskeeper fucking Willie,” you growled out, penetrating your gaze into Ghosts very soul, hoping he’d feel a shred of pity for you.

However, you weren’t doing a very good job of that. Instead of knocking sense into the big brute you only made him narrow his eyes at you. And to add even further insult, Soap choked back a laugh. Though, he composed himself quickly after casting a glance at the leuitenant and focused his eyes back on the road.

“You’ve got a funny way of sayin’ thank you, princess.”

And that was the last thing he said to you before ignoring you completely. No matter how much you moaned and groused and demanded to be taken back home, neither of the men would answer your cries. Typical men!

They left you to marinade in your own self pity - in a dish that was endlessly deep. Afterall, how could your father not appreciate how stressful your ordeal was? Sure, you both had your differences, but you’d have thought that even he would put his malice for you aside on account of an actual real life kidnapping!

After a few more miles of barren road you found yourselves coming to a small village, and started to slowly roll toward a modest concrete house on the outskirts.

It was two floors high and painted a sandy cream colour, with a small sheltered space to park the car and protect it from the elements. It seemed as if it might just fit you and Soap through its tiny door, the ceilings didn’t look that high. And it was the thought of Ghost being stuck in its old wooden frame that made you finally crack a small smile for the first time since you’d been taken.

“Any complaints about the exterior before we step in, sweetheart, or would you like to save your scathing words for when you’re inside?” Soap teased as he opened the car door for you.

“Very funny,” you huffed, smile disappearing you made sure to knock into the door as you stepped out. “Maybe you can go make fun of some terrorist victims next.”

Soap raised his brows, but didn’t bother to dignify you with a reply. He closed the door behind you instead and walked up to house and unlocked it for you, ushering you inside. Not that there was much to walk into.

There was some basic furniture, a ratty old couch, a table and chairs, a kitchen that hardly seemed stocked and an old orange cloth rug that looked like it had seen better days. The place smelt like old newspapers for some reason, and all in all, it didn’t inspire much hope in you for the rest of the house. And just as you caught yourself thinking that, you knew you’d already proved Soap right. You had many, many, many complaints.

“Well, I drove. So I bagsy first shower,” Soap announced, trailing off toward the creaky wooden stairs at the end of the hall. “Try not to cause world war three while I’m gone.”

You balked as you felt Ghost brush past you, successfully getting through the door. Who had Soap directed that last order at? Jeuss. You were the kidnapping victim and somehow you didn’t qualify for washing up first? What was this?

Chivalry was truly dead. Though, it wasn’t like they’d rode up in white horses when they’d come to get you, no they emerged through a cloud of bullets and snatched you out of the house like a drug bust they could trade in for on the sly.

“And what am I supposed to do now, hm?” You said, turning to the man now shedding his gear like a second skin onto the couch.

He didn’t give you a response though, instead he just finished off pulling the various packs and armaments off of himself until he was left standing in his uniform and mask. He looked a few pounds lighter, but he was still massive compared to you. The equipment didn’t bulk him out quite as much as you’d suspected.

“Is there a phone I can use?” You finally asked, exasperated with the silence.

“No.”

He grunted as he took a seat on the couch and rolled up his sleeves, exposing his thick tattooed forearms. You couldn’t help but feel that that was some kind of threat. Though, your suspicions were eased as he shuffled around and crossed his arms around his head, lying down and closing his eyes.

“So, what? We’re just waiting to see when my dad magically shows up?” You needled.

“You asked If there was a phone that you could use,” he reminded, glancing over at you with slitted eyes. “Why don’t you go get some rest princess, there’s rooms upstairs that you can whine in in peace.”

What!

You clenched your fists at your sides and growled out in frustration. How was it that you were stuck with one of the most insensitive men in the world right after you got kidnapped? In fact it felt like you were being held hostage all over again.

Well you weren’t going to sit there and take it this time!

Before you could think about how bad an idea it was, you marched straight over to the sofa and started digging through Ghosts things. You crouched and moved aside all the smaller pouches and sharp pointy things trying to find anything that might resemble a phone. Though you didn’t get much of an opportunity to look, you were swiftly dragged up to your feet by the masked man and knocked away from his stash.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He barked, not sparing a single decibel from piercing your already abused ears.

“I need to use a phone! I need to call someone!” You screamed back. “I need to tell people I’m alright. My friends must be worried sick and you’re treating me worse than a prisoner! E-Even prisoners get their phone calls!”

You tried desperately to fight against his hold, and screeched and hit against him like a banshee. However the man was solid, his hands were digging into your skin like a bear trap. And even as you tried to scratch at him, it didn’t deter him any. He just held you against him, making you smell the sweat off of him, the bullets, the smoke, you breathed him in as he pinned your hands flush to your body and screamed out as it became too much.

“In case you’ve forgotten, princess, we’re hiding out in a safe house right now because you’ve just been bloody kidnapped! You can’t call anyone because we need to keep the line clear and wait for word from back home. This isn’t fucking vacation, sweetheart, this is a fucking mission,” Ghost roared.

You froze at his words. Your body felt like it had been hit by lightning and all of a sudden you could feel the storm in you shifting. All of the adrenaline was draining from you and just like that, you went from fighting like a rabid dog to blubbering like a baby. You broke down in his arms and felt the tears flowing freely back down your cheeks and fell back against him defeated.

“Oh Jesus,” Ghost muttered to himself.

Of course you hadn’t forgotten you’d been kidnapped. You were just dealing with it all in the only way you could. it just so happened, that when you fell back on instinct to get you through hard times it would result in you being, well as your dad put it, a massive pain in the ass. You were sure that Ghost would say the same.

You didn’t even try to compose yourself, you were too upset to think.

So, as Ghost came to that conclusion too, he decided to take matters into his own hands and picked you up again. Though, instead of putting you over his shoulder this time, he held you tightly against his chest and carried you off into one of the side rooms further into the house.

The floor protested with every step the big man took and even over your shaky sobs, you could hear the wood below groaning like a zombie. He checked in the first door, and then the second on the wall to the right, coming to a stop when he found what he was looking for. Through blurry eyes you could see that you were in a small bathroom. A messily tiled room that contained an old wooden cabinet, a sink and a toilet.

Ghost sat you down on the closed toilet seat and pulled some tissue from the roll, pressing it into your limp hands. You looked down at it like it was alien for a second, not sure what to do until you met Ghosts unwavering gaze. You needed to dry your eyes and get control of yourself.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, princess,” he sighed, turning and reaching into the cabinet.

You gulped down a fat sob that had been threatening to come and sniffled softly instead. As much as you begrudged him, you knew Ghost’s logic was sound. You needed to get a hold of yourself and stop crying in front of him. He was hardly the sympathetic audience for it.

In fact it almost made you laugh when he turned back again and his skull mask caught the light. The hard plastic only served to remind you that he wasn’t going to sit and rub your back and make you feel better about it all. It was like he said, this was a mission for him, and his only concern was getting you out of Mexico alive.

“There you go, deep breaths,” he said in a hushed voice, putting his hand on your shoulder for a second.

The warm contact was comforting for a fleeting moment, his hand was gentle yet firm on you before he took it away. He’d fetched a cloth from the cabinet and stepped over to the sink, running it under the water and stepping back to your side. You’d expected him to hand it to you just like he had done with the toilet paper, but instead he took you by surprise and crouched at your level, stepping down from his massive height.

He smoothed the cloth over your cheeks and down your tear tracks, softly clearing up your sensitive skin. When he’d brought the cloth away and refolded it, you’d half expected it to be a muddied black from your makeup but there were only traces of grey. You’d cried most of your makeup off already. Then, after a few more goes at letting him clear up your face you almost jumped out of your skin when a piercing ring sounded out from the living room.

“Stay here,” the soldier softly ordered, handing you the stained cloth.

Ghost ducked out of the room, and you lamely held the cloth in your hand, listening out to what he was doing. He silenced the ring, presumably answering the phone he’d secreted away, and for a second all there was was fuzzy silence and the low ringing that hadn’t left your ears.

“Mhmm,” Ghost grunted, his rumble cutting clear through your tinnitus. “Yeah we’re clear I reckon. Didn’t pass anyone on the way in…no one awake, no curtains twitching…your daughter is-…mhmm…yeah…ok. Well just so you know, your daughter is…fine by the way.”

The gruff man said the last part quietly, and it was that that clued you into the fact your dad probably hung up before he could catch it. He didn’t care how you were, only cared that you hadn’t been killed by a foreign gang. That probably wouldn’t have done his image any favours, you thought to yourself. What man wasn’t able to protect his family? A high ranking general at that. All that mattered was that you were safe and he didn’t have a PR crisis on his hands. How you were doing was none of his concern.

You gulped thickly when Ghost reentered the room and did your best to put on a brave face. He didn’t say anything. He flicked his eyes over your grave expression and took the cloth back from your hands, wetting it under the tap again and handing it back to you.

“Those must be killing you,” he murmured, gesturing to your feet.

You startled when he spoke again, not used to having a conversation with someone who’s lips were hidden behind a skull facade. It was quite unnerving when his rasp broke through the cloth.

Eventually though you nodded, looking down at your feet and finally acknowledging all the blisters that had formed where the straps had dug into you. The shoes had been new, you’d been excited to wear them when you put them on earlier. Now, they were just another regret among many.

“Let’s get them off, hm?”

You nodded again, caught by surprise by the tender way that he was dealing with you out of nowhere. Perhaps out of pity after speaking to the General. You had no way of knowing if he was sympathetic to that type of thing. He was a soldier afterall. They dealt with much worse than emotional neglect and were often oblivious to the cold way your dad treated you. At least in your previous experience of them...

Ghost got to his knees and softly took one of your feet in his hands, turning it slowly this way and that a couple times, until he caught sight of the tiny buckle. He dealt with it like he was diffusing a bomb.

He carefully took the end of the strap in one hand and lifted the buckle with the other, gently letting the catch come loose. Then he slid the shoe from your foot and repeated the process with your other. You had to do a double take. Was this really the same man that had all but snapped at you like a vicious dog earlier?

“Thanks,” you whispered, still uselessly holding the cloth in your hands. “Did the General say when we could leave?”

Ghost frowned as you addressed your dad by his title, but quickly fixed his eyes into that familiar cold stare. He thought to himself for a moment before he answered you. He was probably scared you’d kick off again, you realised.

“He said he wouldn’t get here till evenin’ at least. Said he’d be bringing a chopper though.”

“Ok.”

You didn’t have anything else to say. You’d run out of words, and steam and any kind of fight and all the things that had kept you going before.

You were going to be stuck with the two strangers until almost the next day. There was nothing you could do about it, no one you could complain to, no one that cared. You might as well just accept it.

- 👑-

You’d ended up taking Ghost’s advice afterall. You’d finished cleaning up in the bathroom yourself and painfully trudged upstairs with your swollen feet, searching out the first bedroom you could find along the gloom of the lonely hallway. The lightbulb flickered and danced as you’d made your selection, chasing you into the room as it mimicked the gunfire you’d seen flashes of not hours ago.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, not like you thought it would.

You’d been convinced you’d be left sitting like a character in a movie. Painfully watching the walls in the cold silence and mourning the life you could have had if only you came from a loving home. However, as much as you loved dramatics, you weren’t fit to live up to the hurting girl stereotype.

You realised that when you woke up again and the sun was shining through your room like a big bright fuck you. You thought you were getting a moment's peace? Think again. You were going to be awake for the rest of your internment at the safehouse.

You sighed and scanned the room with your eyes, taking note of the peeling paint and sparse bits of furniture, confirming what you already knew. This room was just as shitty as all the rest. It wasn’t like there was any reason to maintain safehouses beyond being structurally sound and stocked with essentials, but it would’ve been nice to provide some comfort. At the very least they could’ve made it smell better, less musty, less like a place people came to rot.

“You’re awake.”

You yelped when you heard the voice break through the calm and looked over to the door, spotting the looming spectre that stood in your entryway. Ghost. Had he been watching over you the whole time you slept? You didn’t know whether to feel creeped out or grateful for the fact he was so concerned about your safety.

“I am,” you finally said.

“Good. I thought I’d bring you something to eat.”

Perhaps he hadn’t been watching over you after all. Maybe it had been Ghost’s footsteps that had woken you up. It wasn’t a stretch of the imagination, he sounded worse than a herd of cows when he creaked across the floors.

You sat up when he walked into the room and caught a glance at the bowl in his hands. Something to eat was a good description of what he’d brought you. It looked like he’d heated some spaghettios. Not exactly the most appetising thing that you could think of, but given you hadn’t eaten since the morning before, you realised that beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Not that you were often, if ever, a beggar. It was easier for your family to give you unlimited access to money and shut you up than it was for them to spend any time in your presence arguing that you should work for it.

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking the bowl off of Ghost after staring at it for a few seconds.

There was a spoon already shoved into the bowl, and when you picked it up, you found yourself wincing at the burning metal. Ouch. Ghost couldn’t have warned you they were hot? You glared up at him, but he was already retreating back out of the room, seemingly content that you had everything you needed.

But you didn’t feel like you had everything you needed at all.

You felt pathetic admitting it, but you didn’t want to be alone. Your ears were still ringing even hours after the firefight had ended and there was nothing to do in that bland room all alone. And now to top it all off it felt much too hot and sweaty. You felt like you might go mad. You softened your features again and called out to Ghost, praying against all odds that he’d indulge you.

“C-can you stay?”

Ghost paused and turned his head, his skeletal mask caught the golden glow of the sun. It didn't look right. He looked out of place in the sunlight. Though, you knew better than to voice that thought, he wasn’t going to stay if you insulted him again.

“If you really want me to,” he finally replied, tilting his head at you.

You nodded and watched as he looked around and found no alternative but to sit on the end of the double bed, and sighed as he plonked himself down. The bed rippled with his weight, and you almost let the bowl spill out of your hands, but thankfully caught it before it could drop.

That wouldn’t have been good, you thought. You’d already set yourself on eating it all when it had cooled. You couldn’t go without food any longer or your stomach would be gurgling like an alien. How embarassing.

“Did you manage to get some rest too?” you asked awkwardly, testing the spoon in your hands again.

“Some,” he answered, casting his eyes over you. “Soap traded places pretty quick.”

“What an asshole,” you snorted, lifting a spoonful of pasta to your lips and blowing on it.

“That arshole saved your life, princess,” Ghost reminded you, voice regaining its husky edge. “Show some respect.”

“I didn’t-I mean…I just figured you could’ve probably used the rest, I was just joking…Sorry,” you muttered, resigning yourself to eating instead of talking.

Ghost watched intently as you ate every last spoonful, but you ignored him, finding yourself greedily taking on more and more as you recognised your own hunger. You forgot about Ghost’s scolding for the moment as you felt your hunger pangs rattling from deep within you. Though, you felt a little better after finishing the bowl. You were going to eat so much when you got back home, you thought to yourself.

You set the bowl down on the floor and looked back at your rescuer, staring awkwardly at him for a few moments. The silence was making your skin crawl. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“Do you ever take off that mask?” you blurted, feeling your cheeks heat up as you said it.

Ghosts eyes took on a glint as you’d said it and if you weren’t mistaken it felt like he was…smiling? You bit your lip and looked away from him, focusing instead on a particularly chipped patch of paint on the wall to his left side.

“Why? Do you want me to take it off?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone.

“I just- I don’t get why you still have it on. The bad guys don’t know we’re here, right?”

“Maybe I’m just shy,” he teased, leaning back on the bed, his forearms rippling as they supported his weight.

You snorted at his answer, folding your arms across yourself. Suddenly you were all too aware of the fact that he was staring at you bare faced, messy haired and still in yesterday’s tiny dress. There was no way that he was shy, and it seemed unlikely that he was ugly under there. He walked and talked like a confident man, like a man that had never questioned himself. How exciting.

“Has Soap ever seen your face?” you asked, picking at the loose threads on the blanket you laid under.

“Why the sudden fascination?” he grumbled. “I thought I was a big scary serial rapist or somethin’?”

You winced as he threw your words from earlier back to you, it felt like you’d been burned with acid. You realised how stupid you sounded now. He’d held onto that.

“I didn’t say that you were one, I said that you could be one,” you corrected, sighing at your own stupidity. “I didn’t know who you both were, in fact I still don’t. I guess- I guess I just got freaked out, is all. Do other people not react a little crazy when you go on rescue missions?”

“Other people tend to be more gracious, at the very least,” he snorted.

You winced again.

You really were a princess sometimes. As much as the nickname had been annoying you all night, the soldier wasn’t wrong to call you it. They’d been good enough to put themselves in harms way and carry you through a sea of threats only for you to turn around and return fire, calling them names.

You put your head in your hands and groaned. You always slung your arrows at the wrong people. Always got prickly with people that tried to help. And they’d helped you more than anyone ever had.

“Thank you for saving me. I know it's a little late, but all the same…thanks for getting me out of there alive,” you murmured, catching a glance at his widened eyes. “And for- um, dealing with me earlier. That was nice of you cleaning me up like that.”

Ghost took a second to recover from you actually thanking him, his eyes staying open and shocked before returning to their usual shadowy state. They looked almost black even even in the sunlight. Though, you supposed it didn’t help they were hidden behind cloth and plastic.

“You’re welcome, darlin’” he rumbled.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Darling?” you grinned, preening at the warmth in his tone. “Am I growing on you?”

“Like black mould,” he groused, “Can’t get rid of your questions, can I?”

“You did not just compare me to mould,” you growled, forgetting yourself - and who you were facing up against - and shooting toward him with a pillow in hand.

Ghost, cast his eyes from you to the pillow and turned, catching you before you could do anything stupid with it and held you against the wide expanse of his chest again. You were held solidly against him, packed in tight and before you could do anything else, you were disarmed and your pillow was plucked right out of your hands and thrown back to the head of the bed.

“What’d you think you were gonna do with that then, ay?” he growled, his mouth dangerously close to grazing your ear.

His breath was warm on your neck and it raised a trail of goosebumps across your flesh. You shivered in his arms, feeling his words send a shock through your body, and felt yourself go limp in his bulging arms. Why was he suddenly so much more enticing when he had you pinned down like this?

“Ay?” he asked again, releasing a low chuckle. “You think you can attack me, princess? Think you can do a bit of damage with those little arms?”

“I think I could do a lot of damage if you let me,” you breathed, scraping your lip under your teeth.

The lieutenant paused and held you very still for a moment, his arms stiffening over your body like he’d moulded to you. Oh no. Had he not liked that, you wondered. Had you just embarrassed yourself again?

“Are you flirting with me?” he asked, voice not losing his amusement.

Oh good. So he wasn’t disgusted with you.

“Maybe…depends on if you liked it or not.”

“And if I liked it?”

“Then, yes, I was.”

You both sat in silence for a second, you stayed trapped in his arms, holding stock still while he mulled over what you’d said. What now? You didn’t have to wonder very long, he released you and turned your body so that you faced him again, balancing precariously on your hands and knees, capturing your face in his hands so that you were forced to look at him.

“You should be careful who you flirt with, princess. It’s like you said earlier, I’m a stranger in a mask, you have no idea who I am…No idea what I’m capable of,” he trailed, letting your own mind take over the implication he was getting at.

Not that you got the point that he was trying to make. If anything the whole thing was suddenly hotter to you. A rough fuck with the giant soldier that just rescued you from a gang of kidnappers and could pin you down like you were nothing? Hadn’t he sensed your issues from a mile off? Maybe he had, maybe that was why he said what he said.

“Maybe I wanna find out,” you whispered.

You shot forward and kissed where you supposed his lips must be and, luckily, guessed correctly. You could feel him tense up in surprise before yanking you off of him and pinning you under him, holding your body down against the bed with his sculpted body, his legs caging yours in and his hands holding your wrists like manacles.

“Give me one reason you want to, other than spiting your father,” he purred, eyes glowing with amusement and curiosity.

So he did know your game.

“You have a sexy voice,” you tried, fluttering your lashes in a way that you hoped would work on him.

“Fuckin’ americans,” he grunted, laughing lowly to himself. “I want somethin’ better than that.”

“Didn’t think you’d be the type to go fishing for compliments,” you snarked.

With that little comment , you were rolled over quicker than you could comprehend and before you could turn to see what he was doing he slapped you on the ass. It was solid, no nonsense. Enough to sting even though he’d done it through the fabric of your little dress. He wouldn't have to do much to expose you and make it hurt more. He’d just have to flip up the fabric.

“Answer my question,” he growled, still holding one of your hands captive.

“Because I want you to teach me a lesson…because you’re the first person in a long time that’s had me minding my manners,” you sighed, using your free hand to give your body leverage enough to rut against the soldier's bulging crotch.

“Fuck me,” Ghost grunted, voice losing its sharpness as you rutted against him.

“That worked?” you grinned, half shocked that it clearly convinced him.

“You could have any cunt from England, princess, and plenty of em’ would sound like me. You think that they could make you beg like I can?” he questioned.

You were tempted to give him a sassy reply, but already knowing you too well, he hit you with a couple more spanks, this time on your bare ass and finally slipped your skirt up so that he could admire the flesh he was abusing. You gasped as he ran his hands over your cheeks and whimpered when he ran a finger over your slit. You practically feel his eyes glowing like laser sights as he connected with your glistening flesh and paused so that he could dip his finger into you and confirm his suspicions.

“Please,” you whined, praying that he’d start moving it, praying for friction.

“Looks like I’ve got my answer,” he chuckled, removing his soaked finger and slapping your ass noncommittally. “Please what, hm?”

“Please,” you cried out, feeling awfully empty as he’d withdrawn. “Please, I want your fingers. Want you to finger me please.”

“Aw, so cute when you’re all needy, princess. Alright. If you ask me nicely, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I did ask nicely!” you whimpered, feeling your body burning with desire for him.

It felt like he was all you could think of now. The kidnappers and the whole resentment thing you had going for your family was a distant memory and all that remained was Ghost. All that remained was burning lust and a need to have him inside of you, possessing you wholly and taking you for his own.

“You’re such a little brat, princess. I just told you that you could have what you wanted and you just had to go spoil it for yourself,” Ghost said, his voice forging into a chilling point. “Looks like you need to be taught better manners.”

You groaned at his words, but you didn’t get much of a chance to work out what they meant. Instead, his hand rained down hard on your already stinging flesh and he spanked you like it was his next mission. You cried out as the smacks began to burn more and more and wriggled in his grasp, fruitlessly struggling against him and fighting his expert hands to no avail.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you chanted, giving him what you thought he wanted.

“Sorry, what?” he asked, accentuating each word with a slap.

They were softer than the ones he’d been giving before at least. Like caresses against your screaming skin, fiery with his rough treatment.

“Sorry…for not asking nicely,” you said quietly, hoping to god he’d just give you what you wanted.

“Sorry, sir,” he grunted, running his hands over your hot skin.

“Sorry, sir,” you repeated quickly, sighing as his gentle touch soothed your prickling burns.

“That’s better.”

You hummed as his nails scratched down your cheeks and settled into the bed, feeling like the stiff blankets were transformed into egyptian cotton as your head grew fuzzy. His hands really were quite skilled, especially since he was so easily able to have you howling one second and then had you curling up like a cat the next.

“You wanna do this for the rest of the day or you wanna try asking for what you wanted again?” Ghost asked, his voice softening as he watched you relax.

“Mmm, would rather have your fingers inside me please, sir,” you moaned, smiling contentedly to yourself.

“That’s better…good girl.”

Your masked soldier grabbed your hips in his hands, making you feel tiny as he yanked you up like you were nothing. Yanked you into a half kneeling position as you kept your head pasted onto the bed, not having the strength to bring it up. Then finally, just as you were about to start begging again, spat on his hand and pierced his finger back inside you.

You groaned at the intrusion and whined as he slowly pumped it in and out, getting you all worked up and turning you into a moaning mess. You were burning for more, your belly tightening as he worked his digit in and out and circled your clit with his other hand like it was an art. You whined and writhed and clutched at the sheets, crying out as he added another finger and increased his pace. You could feel the rumble that caught in his throat reverberate through your chest. ‘

“So pretty. Your cunt’s so wet and you’re clenching on me so hard. What would happen if I shoved my cock in there? Would you cum right away, princess?” he purred.

You whined out at that and felt your need light up anew, could feel it vibrate around your skull and through your gums. Yes. Stick your cock in me. That’s all you wanted, you wanted the big man on top of you, pinning you down and boxing you in like an animal, fucking into you like you were his own personal fleshlight. Fuck.

“Ohmygod, please fuck me, Ghost!” you cried out, “Please, oh my god please, sir! Please fuck me.”

Ghost chuckled and slowed his pace, bringing his fingers to a near stop. It was like hell, the tingles dampening throughout your body, your high being torn from you. You growled out and tried to claw your way up, tried to face him and see the stupid glint that would no doubt be in his eyes, but before you could he shoved you back down and tapped your ass again.

“We don’t have condoms here, princess. It’s not exactly standard protocol,” he teased. “Doesn’t seem like such a good idea.”

“I don’t care! I’m on birth control and I get checked out by the doctor every month,” you whined, fighting against any argument he could make against giving you his cock.

“Well…I suppose that changes things,” he grunted.

Thank fucking god! You were sure you were going to d-

“Fuck!”

Your strangled cry pierced the room as he replaced his fingers and thrusted into you, shattering you inch by inch with his massive cock. It seemed endless, it was torturous in all the right ways, the burn that licked through your body like a forest fire. He was huge, not that you doubted that of course.

“That what you wanted, hm? That feel good, princess?” Ghost said, coming to a stop as he filled you completely. “Tell me, how does that feel? I wanna know if anyone else has been able to make you as fuckin’ speechless as this.”

You whined out, scratching at the bed underneath you like a trapped animal and breathed in thickly, wondering if your lungs would ever recover from the events of the last few hours. Wondering how to answer Ghost. How did it feel? Did anyone else compare to him? What stupid fucking questions.

Nothing compared.

“It feels so fucking good, feels like you’re gonna split me in half,” you gasped, rocking yourself against him. “Need you to move, need to feel you ruin me!”

“Oh yeah? You need me to move? What a slutty girl telling me such filthy things,” he growled, reaching around and grabbing your neck, not quite enough to choke but enough to let you know he was in control. “Tell me, slutty girl, who’s in charge?”

“You, sir!”

“Who gets to wreck this pussy?” he asked, slowly begining to fuck you, rocking himself slowly in and out of you at an agonising pace.

“You, sir!”

“Are you my little whore?” He asked again, building up speed a little, catching you in all the right places and turning your head to mush.

“Yes sir,” you cried out, feeling yourself coming closer and closer to the edge.

“Good fuckin’ girl, princess.”

You screamed as he upped his pace out of no where and fucked you like it was his job. Your eyes lost focus and your teeth gnashed together and suddenly it was a fight to stay upright as he pounded in and out of you and held your neck tightly in his firm grasp. It wasn’t like anyone you’d been with before, this was a new level of fucking you’d never experienced.

“Fuck!” you cried out again. “Gonna- gonna cum.”

“Yeah? Good, cum for me. Clench on my cock, little slut.”

You moaned out and gripped the sheets underneath you tighter, feeling your whole body shaking as his cock forced you off balnce. Just a few more thrusts and-

It felt like bliss, it felt like a high from a drug you’d just taken for the first time. You came with a muffled scream as Ghost clamped his hand over your mouth and gasped wordlessly as he continued to fuck you. In and out, in and out, it was about all your mind could process as your body zipped and sparked like it had been hit by a thunderstorm.

He kept going like that, absolutely relentless, skewering you and turning you to mush below him, making you feel like dirt at his knees. You were nothing, you weren't any kind of princess, you were just his toy. And you fucking loved it. You loved that he could make you feel like that, but still make you feel so fucking precious as he continued to caress your skin and growl affirmations every now and then.

So fucking pretty.

Mine, princess, you’re mine.

Feel so fucking good, you’re so fucking good.

You cried out as he put his hand around your throat again and put on some pressure, making you struggle a little to pull in air, but not by much. It felt exquisite. The tremors of your last orgasm were still bolting through you and now another one was building. You felt so good, felt so impossibly warm as you struggled beneath him. Fuck, you never wanted this to end. But you knew you could hardly take much more.

“You gonna cum for me again? Gonna give me another one before I finish? C’mon, I know you have another one in you, princess.”

You whined and felt your thighs shaking like they were going to collapse and suddenly his fingers closed tighter round the sides of your throat. You gasped loudly a couple times, trying to pant out that you were close, but the sound couldn’t quite form in your mouth. Then, in no time at all it was hitting you again, that high, that euphoria. Another orgasm.

“Fuck!” Ghost growled out.

You clenching around him had sent him over the edge and all too soon, you were both collapsing into the sheets like falling scaffolding. You clattered down against him and he pulled you close. He bucked his hips a couple times as he finished inside you, grunting a little with the increased sensitivity he felt as you shifted against him. It was divine.

You were both wrecked.

Neither of you said a word as you laid there, both keeping your eyes closed and your mouths open as you panted into the arid empty air. There was nothing to say. You just had to soak in the moment and retreat into each other's bodies, accepting the burning, unbearable heat you were both giving off and enveloping each other in it.

Fuck.

“Is that a better way of saying thank you, sir?” you finally moaned, grinning to yourself as you proved yourself right.

That was one way to teach you some respect alright.

#ghost x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #cod mw2 #cod fanfiction

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libbee · 1 year

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Marry a Venus in 8h or Scorpio

While Scorpio and 8th House have some similarities: need for transformation, interest in deep and dark matters, intensity of emotions; they are still different as in 8th house deals with other people's money, a secretive life, lots of secrets, dealing with partnership, death and rebirth.

What is seen with these natives, especially ladies, is that their relationship or marriage is never "stable". You see how ladies like to flaunt their husbands, post pictures and how much they love their partner to social media and be in public eye? But these natives are the kind to hide their relationship. As if it is not true love if it needs public approval. Also, we see how couples stay the same way 5+ or 15+ years later as if nothing has changed; but for these 8th houser couples, they reborn so many times that they don't even know who they were 5 months back. Two different types of lives!

Here, the wife and husband/girlfriend and boyfriend are both cynical type, suspicious, reading people, their intentions, behaviour, motivations, emotions. They never relax until they get to the root of any matter and then pick another matter and question, question, question everything. Trust is important to them, even more than euphoria of love.

Why Trust?

Their life theme is usually that their childhood and relationship history are such that it is twisted, confusing, as if they were sleepwalking through a relationship and never really there. For this reason, when the relationship finally breaks down, they begin to realize how it was all just a delusion! Here, a relationship or situationship is the catalyst to bring all childhood memories to the surface and healing is a prerequisite to a better improved relationship. But all this is not easy! When they awaken from the state of "sleepiness" then their reality is shifted! Oh, I missed that red flag! Oh-he was keeping secrets from me! Oh, that was manipulation tactic! Oh, he was just like my father!! Their reality is shattered and results in cognitive dissonance, chaos, breakdown, obsessive rumination, ego dissolves, problems with self concept come to surface. "Healing" for them means to work on their Self Concept, that is, identity, confidence, self respect, boundaries, getting rid of emotional brain fog, learning what a relationship is supposed to look like, learning individuation.

8th house Venus is natural shadow worker. She intuitively knows the traits, flaws, faults, motivations, darkness and morbidity in other people. But her tendency is to integrate those dark parts in herself which is why 8H dissolves the boundary between right and wrong, bad and good, moral and immoral. To understand herself, she understands other humans. Not just the light and positive parts but the psychopathic, criminal, morbid, terrifying, scary human psychology. It is like food to her soul, to know the suffering and pain in the world. A sadist or a spiritually awakened being?

Since cognitive dissonance is a big thing for her, her no 1 priority in relationship is someone whom she can trust. Someone who will maintain her reality, will be honest, give her emotional security and keep her mentally stable. A dishonest or deceptive lover is her nightmare because the chaos of "figuring out my boyfriend" will drain her. She needs someone who is transparent and self aware so that her emotions are stablized and fears under control.

Husband

Like attracts like. Boyfriend/husband himself is mirror to these ladies. He is also suspicious, cynical, peeling layers of emotions, craving depth, has unstable self concept unless he is actively working on it, jealousy and possessive are not cute things, they are symptoms of weak Self concept. Since both parties are similar in nature, they understand each other. But not every marriage is that fulfilling! Sometimes partners are really incompatible or the awakening never happens, 8th house never activates. So, just 8th placement is not enough but the timing and dasha will determine how spiritual, healer, psychic they are.

Partner may have this past history, all or any of them:

Man with trauma, dark childhood

Loving a man with dark past

Scapegoat of his family

Fragile masculinity, emasculated by society

Emotionally neglected by his parents

Her man needs healing, security and understanding

He is a hunter type, fears abandonment, controlling

Mommy issues, his mom was a dragon, devours him, he is afraid of his femininity

Man is psychically penetrating, hyperalert, always reading the room, sensitive to energy, psychic types

Most Important

If Venus is in 8th house, this marriage is life changing. Transformative. Significant status difference between maiden life and married life. "Woah! She married that gentleman! He is so rich." Like in Pride and Prejudice, Elizabeth Bennett marries Mr. Darcy who is high class, wealthy and royalty type. There is something luxurious, old money, typical about this marriage. A typical politically connected or socially prestigious family. Sometimes people say 8th house is Karmic, fated, to let go control, money owed to them. I wonder if it is their husband who is paying back her debts to her? Is that why marriage transforms her life? Is marriage a karmic contract to pay back her loan given to husband? Perhaps it is.

Forced to Inner World

At some point in her life, she realized that her life was not quite same as others. She got aware of "psyche" something which has no evidence and is not scientific or physically seen. But for these natives, they are intuitively aware of psyche and how it surrounds us everywhere. In Man and His Symbols, Dr. Carl Jung says how the primitive people were so unconscious that they simply acted on their impulses and the images they saw in their head. They even thought that the animals and trees were their soul/spirit and were deeply submerged in the unconscious. 8th house is like that state of unconsciousness and then you come to awareness with a shock and again go back to unconsciousness. We are living in a flow state and only when something crisis, emergency or catastrophic happens that we awaken and soon go back to the flow state. That "awakening" is the hallmark of this house.

Another thing to be seen here is that these natives are forced to live in the inner world. They do not choose spirituality but have no choice - are forced to choose it. Since their emotions and conscience are quite sharp, they "feel" their way through life. (Trigger warning death) Let's say you killed your parents' dog accidentally and hid it in their own backyard and then lied about it to your parents when they asked where dog is. As the days go by, you feel that regret growing larger and larger. It creeps on you, eats you from inside, feels heavy in your body. That "I did something wrong" feeling never goes away. Imagine living with that feeling 24x7, that is your conscience.

For these natives, their conscience is just hyperactive. It is their guide through life. If they dismiss their conscience, they are faced with external consequences in physical life. There is a saying "As above, so below" which fits to these natives, which means that the inner life and outer life are just the reflection of each other. If we sit back to think about the past, we realize how everything is connected to everything else. That nothing was random. Self-reflection and pattern seeking are highlighted in this house. Any planet that is placed in 8th or 12th house is partially submerged in the underworld and the only way to maintain a life is to dig that "hidden" something. Occult tools, psychoanalysis, reading people, meditation are really helpful to make the unconscious comprehensible. This way they can even avoid the unnecessary unpreditable sufferings of this house.

I have seen how native if lives absent mindedly, without thinking of their actions, they always face instant karma in physical life or the psychic life. In psychic world, they feel guilt, unexplainable regret, negative emotions, shame, depression, etc. If they ignore these symptoms for too long, it will all explode with a blast BUT the healing will finally begin. For the sake of your mental stability, keep doing self reflection and avoid unnecessarily events and suffering.

It takes some time and understanding to realize what Self awareness means. The society we live in, cultural and social behaviours are contrary to self awareness. We live in an extraverted, materialistic, narcissistic society; you have to just be opposite of that -- introverted, spiritual and empathetic. These natives are not born healers, they are wounded healers. They may even feel external locus of control and surrender to psychic forces because their life is just so stormy.

My only advice is: To keep your eyes open! Just because your friends or some celebrities can indulge in behaviours and get away with it, it does not mean that you can too. Instant Karma is something that happens in 8th housers life a lot. Once you identify it, you can then change your behaviour and language to avoid these suffering.

#astro community #astro notes #astro placements #astro tumblr #astroblr #astro observations #astrology #astrology blog #astro #astrology community #astrology notes #astrology observations #astrology tumblr #astronotes #sidereal astrology #vedic astro notes #vedic astrology #Venus in 8th house

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luceafarul-de-dimineata · 16 days

Text

Avisos cuddle pile

Idea given to me by my wonderful mutual @katy-the-same-as-tsuki, go check her art out, she's amazing.

You were out in Avisos, Bael having ordered that Naberius, Stolas and Amon show you around the country. Compered to Gehenna's cozy atmosphere, Tartaros' opulence or Hades' beauty, Avisos was a lot louder, more visually stimulating than anything you've seen in hell so far. It was as if every building was begging you to pay attention to it.

The three demons you were with were bickering constantly, for God knows what dump reason. They would try to drag you in different directions since they each wanted to show you their favorite part of the country.

Stolas: "We should visit the bird caffee! You love birds, don't you, Mc?"

Naberius: "You only want to go to the bird caffee because you like it. Mc is clearly an intelectual and is more interested in learning about the culture of Hell. We should go to the National Museum of Avisos."

Amon: "I think we should go to that restaurant that serves his majesty Beelzebub's semen, I'm kind of hungry."

Naberius: "Kind of hungry? You haven't eaten in months! I'm surprised you're still standing."

You were starting to get bored of hearing them constantly arguing, so, after circling the same 5 buildings because none of them were paying attention to where they were going, you decide to speak up.

Mc: "I know where I want to go."

All of them at once: "Where?"

Mc: "The castle. I want to go take a nap in the castle."

Stolas and Naberius looked shocked but Amon cheered.

Amon: "I like the way you think."

Stolas: "But we have so many places to visit"

Amon: "You heard them. To bed we go!"

Amon picks you up and rushes you to the castle. He was surprisingly fast and strong for someone that always complains about being hungry. Naberius and Stolas turn into their animal forms to chase after Amon.

Bael was on the phone trying to stop 5 different financial crisises at once. Someone from Hades died in Avisos while in a shop run by someone from Paradise Lost, but the guy from Paradise Lost wasn't affiliated with Avisos, but he was doing business there so now it's a logistical nightmare as to who is trully resposible for the death. Bael groaned as he hit his head to the table.

Bael: "Bell, when I catch you, Bell-"

He's inturupted by his three headaches nobles exquarting the guest of honor, the child of Solomon themselves. Bael wanted to make a good impression in front of you since you could help him with some of the external conflicts (and totally not because he has a crush on you).

Bael tried to put on his most charming smile in front of you, but everyone in the room just looks at him with shock, disgust and concern.

Naberius: "Bael... are you alright?"

Stolas: "Did you eat what you cooked again?"

Amon: "I think his fake majesty passed away and this is his mummified corpse. I heard some demons do that after death."

Amon was getting ready to open the flash on his phone as a way of simulating the lighting of a candle for a dead one, but Bael whipped the phone out of the younger demon's hand.

Bael: "I am not dead. Ugh, how was your outing together? You got back quite shortly. Has anything caught your interest, Mc?"

Mc: "Yes, actually."

You grab Bael by the wrist and drag him from his chair.

Bael: "What do you think you're doing, child of Solomon? I have very important matters to attend to."

Mc: "You need sleep. Think of it this way, if you die of exhaustion, who's going to run the country?"

Bael couldn't argue with your logic even though he wanted to. He just let himself be guided outside the office. The three other nobles followed you to the castle's garden, where you layed with Bael. The three looked at you confused before understanding what your plan was.

Naberius transformed into his Cerberus form and curled up around you and Bael, Stolas nestled on your lap and Amon spooned you from behind while you hugged Bael.

Bael: "This is very sweet of you, but I have a job to do and there's a lot of tension between-"

Mc: "Sleep."

Bael finally gave in and stopped struggling, giving in to his exhaustion. Hearing his soft snors as he nuzzled to your chest and Naberius' fur almost made you want to record it as a souvenir from Avisos. No shop could sell the serenity you felt right now.

When everyone fell asleep, a sole fly landed on your arm. At least in spirit, all of Avisos was here.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb bael #whb amon #whb naberius #whb stolas #whb avisos

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 1 year

Text

It All Comes To Light

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: uhhh general angst- Hydra trauma & forced terminated pregnancy

Genre: angst & fluff

Summary: When Steve learns another detail of your traumas from Hydra you end up telling Bucky one of your most well-kept secrets

***

Your eyes snap up at the slap of a manila folder on your desk where you're sketching. Steve is leaning against the wall by your door with his arms folded.

"What's with the folder?" You ask him with a confused frown.

"I knew you were taken by Hydra but you didn't tell me about this. Why not?" He asks. You let out a sigh as you flip it open. Nothing could have prepared you for what you were going to read in that folder. You went through a lot when Hydra kidnapped you and it's not a time you like to remember.

"H-how did you get this?" You ask him.

"Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"Steven,howdid you find this information? I'm serious."

"My last recon mission." He tells you.

"You had a recon mission at a Hydra base?"

"Well I wasn't sure if that's what it was but we found a bunch of their files there. This included. Tony was sorting them and when he saw your name he figured you'd feel more comfortable with me reading it."

"I would feel more comfortable reading it my damn self." You huff.

"I know but Tony thought that less biased eyes would be better in case there's some information we need."

"So now that you haven't found anything useful you figured you'd confront me about unshared trauma?"

"I haven't talked to Tony about the folder. And I won't. I just- we talked about what happened during your time at Hydra why, why didn't you tell me aboutthis?"

"Because Steven it was traumatic! I don't like to think about it. Everything about that time was awful but this? This was another level of cruelty to me. I love you but you can't expect me to share every detail of my time there. Has Bucky? He has nightmares still, does he tell you what happens in them? Do you expect him to? That is your best friend and Iknowhe doesn't recount his horrors in specificity. He doesn't share them all with me and that's a trauma we have in common. Why would I have told you about this?"

"Wait does Bucky know?" Steve asks.

"Absolutely not. Why would I tell him?" You shake your head.

"Why not? I think this concerns him."

"Not really. At the time I was forbidden from telling him. I mean they hardly even let me see him after that happened. Even if I could tell him it's not like they'd let him remember and it's been so long. We're different people now and we're in a good place. Both individually and together. I don't- I don't think there's any reason to tell him about any of it. I went through it, it almost broke me, and eventually, I healed. It took a long time but it happened before y'all found me. I don't think that's a wound I need to reopen just to share it with Bucky. He wasn't with me, he couldn't be and I think making him aware of that would hurt him more than he needs." You shrug.

"Y/n- I'm sorry you went through that and that you had to do it alone." Steve sighs.

"It's fine Stevie it's over. But- you haveto keep it to yourself. If you've gotta give the file back to Tony do it but Bucky doesn't need to know any of that. Can you respect my decision?" You stand up and hand the folder back to Steve.

"Of course, and I'll make sure Tony knows as well."

"Thank you." You mutter.

"I just- I have one last question."

"Ask away."

"I don't understand why they never told Bucky or why they forbid you from telling him. Even after it happened."

"It made me a distraction to Bucky. They made sure I- I wasn't a problem anymore it's why he barely remembers me from that time." You mutter.

"A distraction? To Bucky?" Steve frowns.

"Look I-" you stop yourself when you realize Bucky is walking into your room and Steve practically freezes when he turns around to look at you.

"What's this about you being a distraction?" Bucky frowns.

"Steve and I were just- talking about-"

"You being a distraction I heard. Have I ever made you feel like a distraction?" Bucky asks.

"No. Not you. It was- he had a question about something Hydra related."

"I'm confused why would Hydra have anything to do with you being a 'distraction'?"

"I wasalwaysa distraction for their precious Winter Soldier. It's why you don't remember much about our time together. They made sure to take care of any possibility of that." You muse.

"Y/n." Steve looks at you with a conflicted expression.

"You're being evasive on purpose aren't you?" Bucky's eyes dart between you and Steve.

"Tell him y/n." Steve sighs.

"Steve!" You glare at him.

"He deserves to know."

"You agreed to respect my decision."

"Yeah but now he's asking about it just- tell him."

"Hi yeah I'm still in the room." Bucky crosses his arms. "Y/n, what is he talking about?" He asks you and you sigh.

"I was pregnant and I never told you because Hydra made sure there was nothing to tell." You don't look at either of them as you talk.

"You were pregnant?" Bucky whispers.

"Yeah."

"And Steve, you told him?"

"Steve found outtoday because of a file found during a mission and asked me about it. I told him not to tell you because it was a long time ago and it's not something I like to rehash. The distraction thing is- about why you never knew."

"It was my kid?" Bucky's brows knit together when he asks.

"Of course it was. They separated us because of it. You couldn't know and they couldn't let it happen again. It's part of why your memories of me are so vague."

"When you say they made sure there was nothing to tell-"

"They terminated the pregnancy." You say.

"Y/n-" Bucky breathes out your name with sadness in his eyes.

"It was for the best in the end." You shrug.

"For the best? They took our child away from you and you think that was for the best?" Bucky is incredulous.

"Did you forget how they treated us? Kept us in cages? You were there Bucky. How could a child be expected to endure that? Be realistic here we would not have had that child even if I gave birth to them. I'd have the kid and the moment they can walk those monsters would take them. He'd learn to shoot before he could count to one hundred. And as soon as they think he's old enough they'd start testing and there are only two ways that would've gone. The child turns out like you, or like me. So they keep them; a miracle, the Winter Solider can be genetically replicated through reproduction. Now, on top of all the other horrible shit they did to us, we're turned into breeding cows because the successful genetic mutation of one child means they'd now start trying to find what parts of your DNA and what parts mine make the best fucking super baby. They'd probably move the kid too, who at this point has spent so many years in this lab without us that they don't even know their parents. Or they move us, either way, we never see them or each other again. And the alternative; the kid's not like either of us. They have no use for a regular kid, so they throw them to the fucking wolves we still never see that child again. You and I both know we could not protect a child in that environment so yeah, I think it's for the best that they did not force me to bring a child into a world where neither of their parents could protect them." Your voice is loud by the end of your rant. It's a story you've walked through a hundred times before. Having Hydra end your pregnancy was hard, but you know it would be much harder to have a baby in that place knowing what it's like to be there.

"Y/n-" Bucky's voice is soft.

"Maybe it's cold to rationalize it this way but it's the only way I survived all the hell they put me through and I willnotfeel bad about it."

"You shouldn't feel bad." He tells you. "You're right, I mean- you usually are. I guess I just, you've had all the time in the world to think about it. I'm only just processing all of this information right now. I didn't even know I could have kids." He frowns.

"Neither did I. They caught it so quick, before I even knew it was happening." You shake your head. Bucky wraps his arms around you in a tight hug that has tears stinging your eyes.

"I'm sorry you've been carrying this alone." Bucky says.

"Y/n- I'm really sorry for forcing you to go back down that road. You have our support. Always. I shouldn't have asked. It's- not my business." Steve mutters.

"It's fine Steve, you're my friend. It's not unreasonable that you'd ask about it." You sigh.

"No one likes reliving their trauma, but nothing that happened to you there will ever make anyone here love you less. Okay?" Bucky looks at you.

"I know."

Sometimes it's hard to deal with, what happened to you there was beyond imaginable but it's part of your story. You can't erase it even if you lock it away in the recesses of your mind and while you'll never say you're okay with that trauma, you know without it you wouldn't be where you are now. It was the worst time of your life but you came out the other side to something better than you ever thought you'd get.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst

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httpsuniverse · 9 months

Text

easy on me [ christian pulisic ]

you were young when you and christian broke up. you made a huge decision for the both of you back then and you were confident enough to know that the decision you made would be better for the both of you, but what happens when he learns about the biggest secret you’ve been hiding from him since you separated ways?

[ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 ] — christian pulisic x ex!reader; oc!emily, oc!ezekiel, oc!andrew . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 🫂 °. *

[ 𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 & 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] — angst, unplanned pregnancy, profanities, inaccurate description of mentioned places (as i’m not american, nor do i live in the states) . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ ℹ️ °. *

[ 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧 ] — 6,219 words . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 📲 °. *

࣪˖ 💭 .. 𝗘𝗬𝗔’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⌕ the LONGEST scenario i've written, all thanks to disney+ hahahaha i’ve rewatched the parent trap and the game plan the other day, so i thought about this. i also plan on writing a parent trap-like story, but i’m still figuring out how i’d write it lol but anyway, enjoy! ❤️ btw, i haven’t betaread this so if there’s any errors, let me know and i’ll edit it!

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © httpsuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

watching this little kid grow up was both scary and amazing. five years have passed since you met him, since you first heard his heartbeat. five years ago, he opened his eyes and welcomed himself in this cruel world one september morning. watching him grow up to the person he was today felt both accomplishing and depressing. ezekiel mate was his name, and yes–you’ve named him after his father. his father who is not aware of his own existence. it wasn’t ezekiel’s fault though, you’ve made this decision by yourself and there was nothing you could do but uphold your decision and do your responsibilities as a mother–a single mother in fact. you thought it would be the best for all sides, for you and ezekiel’s father.

he has his own career to think about, he was about to make his name known to people. to be known in the sport he loved most and all people would cheer his name, plaster printed copies of his face and name across the whole country. you didn’t want to ruin that opportunity for him, a child would only affect his career. between practices, training, matches, flights–surely, christian wouldn’t have any time to take care of a child. with you in north america and him in europe, it just simply wouldn’t work. you still remember the night you broke up with him, in fact, you can’t forget about it. it haunts you like a stupid nightmare, it keeps you awake most of the time.

you sacrificed a lot for ezekiel. giving up university for a year to navigate things on how to be a mom, and trying to make ends meet by working–sure, your parents were there to help financially and take care of your baby in times you needed them, but you wanted to be able to support ezekiel on your own. balancing work, university and a growing child was hard and there were days that you wanted to just give up. but you didn’t, because you were the only parent that ezekiel has in his life.

“mama?” you heard a tiny voice call you, waking you up from reverie. ezekiel’s tiny footsteps were heard as he ran towards you. “why are you still awake?” you smiled at the little boy, gently picking him up from the ground and sat him on the kitchen counter in front of you. his slightly curly hair, deep dimples and honey brown eyes that look so captivating under the light, reminded you so much of his father. not to mention, they both share the same birthday.

“just… thinking of something, baby.” you answer, “why are you still awake? we have a flight to catch tomorrow, you know?”

“i know! we’re going to florida, to aunt emily and i’m too excited to sleep, mama.”

you giggled, “well, we both need to sleep now. we have an early flight and you need to have a lot of energy when you get to aunt emily’s place.”

you took ezekiel in your arms, making sure that his favourite stuffed toy was secured in his arms as you made your way back to his room. gently, you put him to his bed and tucked him in, sitting on the edge of his bed as you stared at him, waiting for his eyelids to shut as he told you how his day was. ezekiel spent the day with your parents, they lived nearby and offered to babysit him while you went to work.

minutes later, ezekiel’s words were slurring. meaning, he was about to drift off to dreamland. you both have to be awake by 5 am to catch your flight, and it was already almost midnight. you don’t need a fussy, grumpy 4-year-old throughout your 3 hour flight to florida. when you were sure that ezekiel was fast asleep, you planted a kiss on his head, tips of your fingers running through his soft cheeks as you stared at him.

you left ezekiel’s room, quietly shutting the door closed. instead of going to your room to rest, you opted to stay in the living room. you sat there in silence, letting your own thoughts eat you again. you felt anxious, but you can’t pinpoint the exact reason why. you stare at the wall across from where you were sitting, it was filled with pictures of your family and some pictures of you and ezekiel. the ones from his birth, to his birthdays and his first day of preschool. you remembered that day clearly, when you fetched ezekiel from your parents’ place after his first day of preschool about a few months ago. you two were driving back to your place from your parents, he was quietly playing with his ipad behind you when he asked something you didn’t expect.

“mama, do i have a papa?” he asked, eyes still on his gadget. your heart dropped at the question. “i saw my friends with their papa today. do i have a papa?”

you remember pulling over the side of the road to take a deep breath before answering. he picked it up so early, noticing that it was only the two of you the past four years.

“of course you have a papa, my love.” you answered, not really sure what to say next.

“why is he not here? does my papa hate us?”

sometimes, four year olds ask the most piercing questions and they don’t even know how it could change one’s whole mood, just like what your son was doing. “he doesn’t hate us, your papa is just… busy.”

“is it my fault, mama?”

you sighed, removing your seatbelt and faced ezekiel. “no, baby. it’s not your fault, it will never be your fault.” you said, smiling to let him know that he wasn’t in any sort of trouble. “it’s just… mama and papa needed some time away from each other. it doesn’t mean that it’s your fault, baby. it’s never your fault.”

ezekiel smiled at you, mumbling a small okay. you chose to go to the nearest fast food chain drive thru, not in the mood to cook as you were tired the whole day and with ezekiel’s questions to you, sure enough you wouldn’t be able to focus on making dinner.

“it’s mama’s fault, zeke.” you murmured, holding a picture of your son. “i’m the one to blame.”

—

“if you don’t wait for mama, you might be lost and i will be very sad.” you tell your 4-year-old as you wait for your bags.

the flight from new york to florida was easy, because your son was asleep throughout the duration of the flight. however, it was during the landing when he woke up and started to be talkative and hyper. you only had at least an hour or two of sleep from last night, waking up at 3 am to catch a 6 am flight. ezekiel was usually listening to you every time you two go out, but since he’s all napped out, you were dealing with a hyper kid (you blame yourself for giving him cookies before you landed).

ezekiel held your hand as you pushed your luggage towards the arrivals exit. you two were greeted with a big sign that says welcome to florida, y/n and zeke! by your best friend, emily and her husband, andrew. your son ran straight to his godmother, he couldn’t read the sign yet but he knew it was his favourite aunt.

“zeke, you’re a big boy now!” emily exclaimed, hugging him tight and letting go of your son a few seconds later to face you. “and you, a hot mama, you’re looking beautiful as ever!”

you playfully hit her arm and hugged her. the four of you made way for the other people in the airport, heading to the parking lot. emily and andrew had invited you over to celebrate the fourth of july with them, as well as to meet your goddaughter, celeste. they invited the two of you to stay with them for a week as emily said that you two had a lot of catching up to do.

the drive from the airport to the emmons’ residence wasn’t that far, it only took the four of you about forty-five minutes. emily and andrew’s place was beautiful and cosy, perfect for the couple and the family they dreamed of building. your room for the week had a view of the lake, which you liked the most. emily had ezekiel for a few minutes as you unpack your stuff and prepare ezekiel’s swimming trunks.

“we can go boat riding in the next few days!” emily told ezekiel, “but for now, we can swim in the backyard and play with celeste. is that okay with you, zeke?”

ezekiel nodded his head, turning to you. “your swimming trunks are in the room. change first and go back to mama so i can put sunscreen on you, alright?”

“yes mama!”

ezekiel changed his clothes and had his sunscreen applied, excitedly joining andrew in the pool. you and emily were lounging with her 4-month-old daughter, celeste. the day passed by so quickly; it seems like ezekiel enjoyed his first day in florida as after dinner, instead of asking for his ipad to play and watch his favourite kids show, he asked if he could go to sleep. poor kid must’ve been exhausted running around the backyard with andrew. when you were certain that ezekiel was tucked and safe on the bed, you went back to the living room where the couple was waiting for you.

“little too early for wine, isn’t it?” you smiled, taking a seat across the couple.

“it’s never too early for wine.” said emily, “plus, celeste is already asleep and hopefully, won’t wake up for the next three hours.”

the three of you were talking about life now that you were all parents now. unlike you, emily was fairly new to parenthood and she has someone by her side throughout the journey. were you jealous? maybe you were, a little. but you had a choice and your choice was to go through this alone anyway, so you immediately shut those thoughts off.

unlike you, your best friend did everything by the book. she and andrew got married over a year ago, gave birth to their first child, and not long ago, they recently bought a home in a gated community which is why they moved from new york to florida. nevertheless, you were happy for emily. she deserved it after all.

as the three of you continued to converse, andrew had asked a question you weren’t expecting: “are you on good terms with ezekiel’s dad?” you understood why he had asked you that, he had no idea about your relationship with christian because the two of you met when he and emily started dating during their years in university, unlike emily who knew you since you were still in diapers.

“babe, that’s not—”

“it’s okay, emily.” you said, “he and i have not spoken since i was pregnant with ezekiel. i have no idea what’s going on with his life now, but wherever he is, i just hope he’s doing well in his career.”

since you and christian broke up, you made sure not to see his name or hear anything about him at all. blocked him and muted his name and any word tied to his name including football and soccer. it wasn’t easy at first but you got used to it as the years passed by. you wonder what happened in his career now, was he still in dortmund? which part of europe was he living now? how was his career in the national team?

the past five years, you’ve been avoiding christian and everything related to him, yet you go back to square one whenever someone asks you about him. you and christian only dated for a year, and your relationship was really private back then. only a handful of people knew about it. nobody knows outside of your family and emily that ezekiel’s father was christian. the people around you and your family thought that you were knocked up by some random guy you met in university. did it hurt? of course it did. having people see you as a careless young adult, have them judge you for being a parent at such a young age but that didn’t stop you from trying your best to be a good parent to ezekiel.

however, sooner or later, ezekiel would ask you about his father—it already happened one time, and you know it’s bound to happen again in the future. was it selfish to hide your child from his own father? yes, it was, but you couldn’t blame yourself for wanting to protect him. you were aware how cruel people could be, especially people who idolise christian. you could take the hate from them but the thought of your only child getting unnecessary hate from the people who don’t know the whole story simply breaks your heart and makes you anxious.

but, who knows what the future holds?

—

“andrew, y/n and i will go for a quick run!” emily announced to her husband.

andrew appears in the kitchen, celeste was in his arms and trying to make the baby burp. “is it okay to leave ezekiel here? i mean, andrew’s already taking care of celeste.” you said, a bit worried that andrew couldn’t handle two kids.

andrew chuckles, “i’ll be fine as soon as celeste falls asleep. me and mr. big boy here can play video games while she naps.” he answered, “now, you ladies go. we’ll be fine here.”

“are you sure, andrew?”

“y/n, andrew has babysat most of his nephews and nieces all at once, and he has 6 of them. i think he can handle an infant and a child.” emily laughs, “now, let’s go!”

“alright, alright!” you gave in, levelling with ezekiel’s eyes. “promise mama that you’ll be a good boy for uncle andrew?”

you extend out your pinky, and ezekiel wrapped his around yours, putting a smile on everyone’s faces. seconds after that, you and emily were out of the door and started running laps around the whole neighbourhood. it took you two an hour before you stopped by a local park, finding a shade to relax for a bit. the both of you were quiet, enjoying the sound of the trees as you relaxed.

“i’m sorry about andrew’s question last night.” emily suddenly said, “you know, the one about he-who-must-not-be-named.”

you let out a chuckle and shook your head. “it’s okay, ems. it was just an innocent question.” you said, playing with the hem of your shirt. “it’s really not the first time someone asked about him anyway.”

“what do you mean?”

“zeke. he asked about his dad during his first day of school, a few months back.” you answer, “he asked if he had a dad, if his dad hates us because he wasn’t present and… was it his fault why his dad’s not around.”

“oh my… y/n, i’m sorry.”

emily hugs you tightly, feeling a bit sad as zeke was too young to think about such things. you never told anyone about your conversation with your son that day until today, and it felt so good to finally get it out of your chest.

“i feel so selfish to keep him away from christian, you know?” you open up, “but it was the only thing i could think of. ems, you know how well his career was going back then. i didn’t want him to sacrifice such a huge opportunity for me and ezekiel back then.”

at this point, you were tearing up. you couldn’t help it. you were always vulnerable when you talked about ezekiel and christian. back when you found out that you were pregnant, you made this decision to break up with christian and have the baby alone. back then it felt like you shot two birds with one stone, christian’s career being the one bird and the other is protecting your child from the public eye.

you and emily stayed at the park for a few more minutes, just until you cried out and walked back home. maybe it was time, it’s been years after all and christian deserve to know the truth. the whole day passed, ezekiel enjoyed spending it with you and the emmons, taking you both on a boat ride which ezekiel loved the most. seeing your child’s smile from ear to ear warmed your heart, yet you felt guilty. since ezekiel was born, there was this guilt that was running through your heart; that nagging guilt saying that you were depriving both of them by taking away the chance to be in each other’s life.

fuck it, i’m gonna do it. you thought to yourself in the middle of the night while staring at the ceiling.

christian thought his eyes were deceiving him the moment he saw the notification, his fingers immediately pressing on the message. usually, he would ignore message requests, but as he saw your name, he had flashbacks all of a sudden. it’s been five years, yet your name was still imprinted in his mind. five years of thinking where did he go wrong in your relationship, if there was something he did that made you end your relationship, and if it had something to do with his career. five years ago, his career was thriving and his love life came crashing.

he remembered the night you broke up with him, it was when you flew to visit him during your winter break and it happened on a typical day. the two of you did the usual routine since you arrived, wake up together, eat together and after that, he went to training while you stayed at his place. by the time he arrived, you ate dinner together. he even offered to wash the dishes as you already cooked. life was perfect, or so he thought.

“is there something bothering you?” he asked when he noticed the change of mood while you two lied in bed. “talk to me.”

“it’s just nothing.”

normally, christian would ask you again–if you were okay, what was bothering you and all. but this time, he heard your tone that signified you weren’t really in the mood, so he let it go. the two of you cuddled up in bed, with you as the little spoon and listening to each other breathing. until you asked him a question.

“what do you think of kids, chris?”

“what do you mean what do i think of kids?”

“you know, what is your opinion about kids? about having and raising your own?”

christian chuckles, letting you turn around to face him. “well, i would like to have one, maybe two or three.” he answered, “but definitely not now. we’re still young, we have dreams to achieve. big dreams in our careers. what about you?”

there was a brief moment of silence before you spoke up, “yeah, same answer as you, i guess.”

he remembers changing the topic that night, he didn’t notice your lack of energy speaking to him–thinking that maybe you were just tired and weren’t in the mood to speak. the following day, same routine. only then, when he arrived home, you two got into an argument that eventually led to the end of your relationship.

hey, i can make time. we can meet tomorrow. after agreeing where you’ll meet, christian couldn’t help but wonder what was the reason behind it. will it be the closure he’s been longing for the past five years?

morning came and only a few hours left until you meet christian. you let emily know about your plan, agreeing to watch ezekiel and let you borrow her car to drive to the park where you and christian agreed to meet. to say that you were nervous was an understatement of what you’re feeling. you still wonder what his reaction would be and how he would take such a huge news you were about to drop.

the time left passed by so quickly. you kissed your son goodbye and drove to carlin park. when you arrived, you were stunned by the number of people. surely, you didn’t want to tell your baby daddy that you were pregnant with his child in front of hundreds of people, especially since he was a known athlete. anxiety pools all over you again, taking deep breaths before getting out of the car and head to the agreed place.

“christian?” you called, walking towards him. he turned around and smiled at you. you haven’t seen this man in years. he has changed so much, he looked like a stranger you know too well. his beard was fully grown, it looked good on him. his left arm was filled with tattoos. looking at christian now, you could see what ezekiel would look like in the future; after all, he was the spitting image of his father.

“it’s nice to see you again, y/n.” he said, “shall we go for a walk at the beach or do you want to sit down?”

“we could go for a walk.”

you could hear your heart thumping at this point as you walked alongside christian.

“it's been five years, y/n. how have you been?” he asked.

you took a deep breath, “well, i graduated. i also work now, so i guess i’m fine.” you answer, not sure if it was the answer he wanted to hear. “and i apologise for asking to meet up last minute. if i ever clashed with a schedule of yours.”

“it’s okay, i still have a few days before i leave for milan anyway.” he answered, “why did you want to meet all of a sudden? and i’m a bit shocked that you know where i stay now.”

this is it, y/n. you cannot fuck this up. “actually, i didn’t know that you lived around the area. i blocked you in every social media i have, muted your name and tried my best to avoid seeing your name. just last night, i found out that you live here now. the internet’s a scary place, you know?” you said, “but, aside from that, i do have something to tell you. something big and important.”

christian chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “uh, okay. what is it?”

“do you remember the night we broke up?”

“can’t really forget about it.” he replied, “why?”

“the night before i asked you what you think about having kids, and you said you’d like to have one but you said we still had dreams to achieve, right?” he nodded, “well, that day i actually found out that i…i was pregnant. 5 weeks back then.”

christian stopped his tracks and when you looked back at him, his face dropped and his eyebrows were furrowed. confusion was spread all over his face.

“i–i didn’t ask to meet you because i need some sort of financial support for the kid or whatever, i just wanted to let you know.” you said, biting your lip as he stayed silent. “if you want to do some paternity tests, i would gladly let you.”

“no, no. i uh, believe you.” he replied, “is the baby…?”

“he’s four and has the same birthday as you, chris. he’s doing well in preschool, and uh…” you paused, pulling out your phone from your pocket and opened a picture of ezekiel to show him. “this is him. his name’s ezekiel mate. he’s your mini me.”

“mate?”

“yeah, well… at first i wanted to give him your last name but i thought it’ll stir controversy so i opted to give him your middle name.” you confessed, passing him your phone. “i hope that doesn’t bother you, christian but i understand if it does. and really, i apologise for telling you this so late.”

christian looked at ezekiel’s picture, examining his facial features that reminded you of him. ezekiel looked like him when he was still a kid, he could see some of your features there as well and there is no doubt that this wasn’t his kid. the pulisic genes were strong and evident.

the two of you continued to walk along the beach, christian was asking you questions about ezekiel until you two stopped in the part of the beach where there were less people. you were both staring at the horizon, it was then when christian asks you the question you’ve been avoiding.

“did you… did you plan on telling me about him even before today?”

“...yes” you breathed, “i–i was supposed to tell you, christian. i really wanted to, but you were just… you had a huge opportunity to showcase yourself in europe. i didn’t want to take that away from you.”

“why?”

“because i know how demanding your job could be. it was already demanding when we were together, it ate a lot of our time together. a part of me thought that maybe a child would be a huge inconvenience to your career.”

all the small milestones that ezekiel achieved, christian had missed out and you wouldn’t blame christian if he chooses to be mad or hate you for hiding his child from him. he had every right to do so after missing five years of his son’s life.

“why didn’t you reach out to me, to my family at least?”

“i was afraid, okay? i was young, we were young. i was figuring out who i wanted to be and obviously, being a young mother was something i did not expect that i’ll be.” you said, on the verge of tears.

“and so, was it okay for you? to be a young, single mom?” he fought back, “y/n, if you had told me before, you know i would do everything. i would’ve quit—”

“and that’s exactly why i didn’t tell you. i changed who i was to put you both first, christian. i wanted you to succeed, you had dreams. at the same time, i wanted a normal life for ezekiel.” you said, tears cascading out of your eyes. “you were achieving your lifelong dreams, christian. i didn’t want to interfere with that. i didn’t want you and your parents’ hard work to be cut short because of me, because of ezekiel.”

christian then realised the things you had gone through raising ezekiel alone. his heart broke when he heard the things people around you told you when your bump started showing. it hurts him to think that you’ve gone through it all alone–all the heartbreaking things people around you told you. even before, when you were still together, it was one of the things that he admired about you. you were a strong and resilient woman.

“can i… can i meet him?”

that caught you off guard, “sure, i guess. when do you want to meet him?”

“tonight, if it’s okay with you?”

you nodded your head, a bit unsure how ezekiel would react. normally, he is shy when meeting new people. but this wasn’t any other person, this was his father. so when christian walked you back to the car and made sure you were inside, you dialled emily’s number.

“how’d it go?” was the first thing she said upon answering the call while you started the engine of the car.

“it went well, surprisingly.” you answered, “one little problem though.”

“what?”

“he uh, he wants to meet him. tonight.” you said, biting your lip. “would it be okay if christian came over at your place?”

“are you crazy? it’s more than okay! plus, it’s much safer and private here instead of going out. lots of people know him, you know?”

you sighed, “i’m nervous, ems. i don’t know how zeke will react, i don’t even know what i’ll say to him.”

“zeke is a wonderful kid, i’m sure he will be okay when you tell him the truth.” emily reassures, “look, me and andrew will just be here to support you. no matter how it goes, alright?”

“thank you, ems. literally for everything.”

emily giggles on the other end, “hey, that’s what friends are for, silly!” she joked, “okay, now i’m gonna end this call to go get dinner ready. you get home safely!”

“dinner?”

“duh, christian pulisic is coming to my place and i’m not gonna serve him anything? i’m a very hospitable person, of course, i’ll make him something good.”

—

two hours of prepping dinner with the couple, christian rings the doorbell. emily whispered to you good luck as she and andrew stayed in the kitchen, keeping an eye on the food you all made while you head to the front door. you took a few breaths before opening the door for him. dressed in a simple button down with a shirt inside and a pair of shorts, holding a bouquet of flowers.

your heart skipped a beat.

“hi,” he smiled, “these are for you.”

you make way for christian to enter the foyer, taking the flowers from his hands. “thank you, they’re pretty.” you compliment, “this is uh… emily and her husband’s place, by the way. we’re just visiting.”

just in time, emily and andrew entered the scene. “you remember emily, right?” you asked and he nodded.

“it’s been a while, christian.” emily smiled and introduced andrew to him. “dinner will be ready in a few. me and andrew are just in the kitchen if you need us.”

you led christian to the den, leaving him there as you went to get ezekiel. christian was nervous, just like you. he doesn’t know anything about parenting, or how to be a dad in general. he depended on such little information you told him about your son. everything was happening too fast, all he knows is that today was such a crazy day. one minute he finds out he has a son, the other he’s meeting him. he hasn’t even told his family about this information!

“zekey, could you promise to be good for mama?” you asked your son which christian heard, “remember when you asked mama if you had a papa?”

“yes, mama. you told me i had one but papa is just busy that’s why we haven’t seen him.” that broke christian’s heart.

“well, papa is here now.”

seeing ezekiel mate in person was a different feeling than seeing him on your phone earlier today. usually, when meeting new people, ezekiel would hide behind you and stay there until he feels comfortable. but this time, he didn’t. instead, he ran towards christian and gave him a hug.

“hello, papa.”

you bit your lower lip, trying to stop yourself from being emotional as you watch christian and ezekiel meet for the first time.

“hello, ezekiel.” christian smiled, “i’m sorry, papa is so busy. but i’m here now.”

you’ve never seen ezekiel conversate with everybody else this way. he was engaging with every single question that christian asks him, telling him the little details about his life. god, why did you wait so long for these two to meet?

as the father and son get to know each other, you head to the kitchen to continue helping emily and andrew. emily was smiling at you when she saw you enter.

“i told you it’s gonna go well.” she said, “now that zekey and christian have met, what’s up with you and him?”

“what do you mean?”

“the flowers. maybe the two of you could reignite the spark you once had?”

you shook your head, continuing to mash the potatoes to serve later. “it’s not… it’s nothing like that. i doubt anything would happen between us, i mean, he’s probably dating someone.”

“really? you don’t see the two of you dating again?” andrew asked, and you shook your head again. “aww, i was almost excited to be friends with a star player. like, imagine the two of us barbecuing in the backyard?”

“babe, i think you’re man-crushing christian.” emily laughed. “but in all seriousness, y/n. no?”

“nope.” you replied, “like i said, he’s probably dating someone. plus it seems like we both moved on, we put the “us” in the past and i think it’ll stay that way.”

“what about zeke?”

you sighed, “we can co-parent, i guess. if he wants to, of course. i’m not going to force him into something he doesn’t want, at the end of the day, i still want what’s best for zeke and him.” you explained, “if he doesn’t want to co-parent, then that’s totally fine. i’ve raised zeke, i’m sure i can handle it.”

“really?”

“look,” you snapped, “i’m sorry guys, i love you both but… i just have a lot of things in my mind right now. it’s been a long day, can’t we just put the questions aside and just get through dinner?”

the couple nodded their heads. they understood where you were coming from, it wasn’t an easy decision for you to let ezekiel and his father meet, plus it all happened so fast and they were blabbing about the possibilities that could happen in the future. you left the two shortly after you helped them prepare the dining table, heading straight to where you left ezekiel and christian.

ezekiel was in between christian’s legs, focused on his father’s phone as he showed him a compilation of his goals uploaded on youtube. when your son acknowledges your presence, he has the biggest smile on his face.

“mama, i want to play football like papa!”

you chuckle, taking a seat next to them. “well, i guess we could give it a try. but for now, let’s go eat dinner.” you tell your son, and he nodded his head, removing himself from christian’s grasp and ran out of the room, leaving you and his father alone. “so uh, just let me know if you’re uncomfortable during dinner. i can—”

“no, no, no. it’s okay.” christian said, “i, uh… about ezekiel—”

“we can talk about it after dinner.” you said, giving him a small smile as you walked to the dining.

ezekiel was sandwiched between you and christian. the four adults exchanged stories, andrew expressing his shock upon finding out that the father of ezekiel is a star player for the national team. ezekiel adjusted with christian faster than you expected, knowing your son, it would usually take him a few more interactions before he started to talk to them completely but he was really comfortable with him. christian was his father after all.

after dinner, christian thanked the hosts of the house. he even offered to put ezekiel to bed, but the kid had too much energy left in his body and couldn’t sleep yet. he bid his goodbye to ezekiel, promising that they’ll meet and bond again soon which made ezekiel a bit sad, yet happy. when everything was already sorted out, you walked christian back to his car.

“today was… i don’t know, crazy and fun.” he admits, stopping next to his car. “it was a lot to process but i think i’m okay. more than okay with ezekiel, he’s… he’s a good kid and you’ve done so much for him. i’ve never met a kid so clever like him at a young age.”

you smile, you didn’t really expect his compliment and it made you shy. “thank you. i have to say, the people around him influenced him a lot.” you replied.

silence once again surrounded the two of you, you were both waiting for someone to speak–bring up the topic of co-parenting. you didn’t want to be the first one to ask him because it would feel like you were pressuring christian, and christian didn’t want to be the first one to ask you because he knew it would be such a huge adjustment for you and ezekiel.

“y/n” christian called.

you look up to him, staring directly into his honey brown eyes. again, no one was talking. just the sound of the wind and a broken street light not far from where you were standing. the space between you and christian was getting smaller and smaller, his hands gently making their way to your jaw. and the next thing you know, your lips were connected. feeling his lips on yours made your heart beat faster, butterflies in your stomach were getting crazier.

you pulled away, holding his wrist. his forehead and nose on yours as you both catched your breath and closed your eyes. christian felt tears on his cheeks, causing him to open his eyes.

“i can’t… we can’t–” you said, pulling away from him.

“y/n–”

“i’m sorry, chris.”

you ran back inside the house, leaving christian alone in the driveway and he stood there frozen as he tried to process what had happened. did he move too fast? were you overwhelmed by his actions? questions ran through the player’s mind. maybe he did move too fast, and maybe you were scared that history may repeat itself. but this time, christian wanted to let you know that it wouldn’t, that he would do his best to conquer everything. christian was determined to have you again, because this time it isn’t only you he’s fighting for.

he was fighting for you and ezekiel.

#christian pulisic angst #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic #christian pulisic fluff #christian pulisic scenario #christian pulisic x you #football imagine #football x y/n #football x reader #football angst

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total-drama-brainrot · 2 months

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Total Drama Psycho Noah AU, after the 'London Adventure' and the truth being revealed, Chris then decides to make this a reward challenge... The reward is that EVERYONE gets to be in First Class, with NOAH... Chris and Noah are curious to see, who will be brave enough to actually enter First Class, after learning about Noah's insanity... How would Courtney + Gwen + Duncan reacts to seeing the video of Noah's insane side showing? 😈 Would Alejandro and Noah still be friends? 😈

Listen, as much as this idea is so fucking funny to me, I really don't think it'd work from a storytelling perspective.

Though (not to push any agendas here, but-) if Chris were to hypothetically have the remaining contestants go against Noah in an enclosed space, in a sort of predator-vs-prey scenario, it'd probably play out something like The Beast chapter in Slay The Princess... without the "eating them alive" aspect, of course.

(Heavy Content Warning for that link, by the way. There's a lot of violence/gore/body horror, among other stuff, by virtue of it being a horror game.)

Maybe he'd lock everyone in the First Class cabin and turn off all of the room's electronics, so the only source of light in the cabin would be the wavering moonlight from whatever tiny windows are dotted around. Noah would use the cover of darkness to his advantage and toy with his competitors in a similar vein to how the Ripper had in their challenge that day, darting silently through the shadows to 'capture' his castmates, picking them off one by one.

It'd be a fun game of cat-and-mouse for Noah. For the others? It'd be a living nightmare. They wouldn't have the luxury of knowing that Noah wouldn't really hurt them, and the bloodlust they'd seen on that screen would be terrifying to watch but downright petrifying to experience first hand. They would be genuinely fearing for their lives, in a way that Chris hadn't been able to prompt since the early days of Island, and the host would love it.

Not that he would do that. And not that Noah would actually attack anyone either. (Without reason to, of course.)

But you are right about one thing; if this AU were to become a fully-fledged story, the London challenge would have to be a reward, just to keep Noah in the competition. Because he literally snapped Zeke's arms like chopsticks- his team would vote him out in a heartbeat just by virtue of him being so dangerous.

Which means the whole of Team Chris (plus Duncan) would be sharing a poorly-lit, structurally unsound cabin with someone they're terrified of.

...Owen notwithstanding, since Owen's a sweetheart and he knows Noah.

But the others would be immediately on guard around him. Noah, knowing there's no reason to keep up his ruse of sarcastic apathy, would probably relish in their fear- he enjoys tormenting people, after all, especially when that torment is purely psychological. So he'd carry on playing the 'unhinged, bloodthirsty sociopath' just to watch the others squirm.

He'd probably make a huge show of still having the Ripper's knife, tucked safely in the sleeve of his white undershirt, and comment that he and Duncan could be 'knife buddies' or something. If only to see how the punk's pierced face would drain of all colour at the prospect of Noah having a sharp object. (Duncan would absently rub at the puncture scars on his hand, to Noah's delight.)

But it'd eventually get boring, I imagine, so Noah would do something to reassure his teammates that he's not some ethics-devoid monster hellbent on destruction. Because having your teammates be in a state of constant paranoia around you would get annoying after a while, and it'd impact their performance in the competition (which Noah isn't really all that concerned with, but Owen is, so Noah doesn't want to do anything to jeopardise their chances of winning challenges).

So he'd drop the exaggeration of his more violent traits, and intentionally show off the unharmful aspects of himself- namely by koala-clinging to Owen and acting 'normally' like they'd done before the London challenge, and/or by approaching Tyler to ask how he was feeling after being stretched on the rack and sheepishly apologise for leaving him behind (showing empathy and remorse, to humanise himself n front of his teammates).

He's insane, not heartless.

As for Alejandro...? I have no idea. Would he even want to risk approaching Noah to find out if their shared comradery was all a ruse? Would whatever tentative trust he had in Noah be completely shattered by the reveal? Or would he be so engulfed by his need to win the competition that he only views this new development as a boon, since now Noah can be more of a physical asset for their team?

It'd probably be a mix of all of these. Alejandro would be left off-footed by the reveal of p!Noah's 'true self' (however much of his 'true self' he's willing to show to others) but I imagine he'd be quick to ally himself with the guy who can break bones like they're chalk and deceive a whole cast of people for two and a half seasons, regardless of any personal misgivings.

#anyway i think it's funnier to leave gwen and courtney in the dark for a while. team amazon tries explaining it to them but--#they refuse to hear it. really? noah? the guy who was almost voted out third in island because he wouldn't throw a dodgeball? that guy?#and noah is overjoyed that there's still people who'll underestimate him on the jet. even moreso because now he has a captive audience for-#when he intentionally carries on the ruse with gwen and courtney. the others watch it happen like witnesss of a trainwreck.#p!noah's a chaos gremlin who thrives on sewing discourse and brewing malcontent #BUT he's not a mindless violence machine. he's just a little silly.#also could you imagine chris setting up a whole ass challenge where he lets noah run wild? it's a shame the horror challenge for the wt--#already happened because p!noah would make SUCH a good 'killer'.#total drama #td noah #td owen #td alejandro #td duncan #team chris is really really really really hot #chris mclean #psycho!noah au #silly ideas #others' ideas #replies #cw violence

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whirligig-girl · 1 year

Photo

D'v: "Hahaa... we're holding hands again... I’m so sorry I wasn't watching where I was going and I was just reading up on--well what I was reading wasn’t important--I was..."

T'l: silent Vulcan noises and depraved illogical thoughts

some artist’s notes and fic snippets below the break:

Getting the pose right was a nightmare!

I drew Tendi and T’lyn on different layers with different colors because otherwise it’d be too confusing. The mess going on in their legs and hands especially. It was a challenge to find a relatively natural looking pose that allowed their hands to match up without hiding anything important. I found i could draw a four-segment stick-figure limb connecting their shoulders, and that helped me get their arms right. The legs were also a mess to figure out, but mostly just because they’re a confusing mess of limbs--they don’t have to intertwine nice.

Also, T’lyn is going to make me learn to draw hands right I swear to god. I could not half-ass the hands on this one.

narrative snipets break:

at that second panel, when Tendi realizes what's happened and gets embarassed, she immediately like, tries to let go and raise her hands respectfully......... but t'lyn just... doesn't let go. for a moment.

Ray Daly’s contribution. (Actually Ray contributed to feedback while I was drawing it, but...)

Mariner: it couldn't have been that bad, tendi Tendi, still flustered: not that bad?? Not that bad?!? would it be fine if you tripped and Bradward’s D--?! Mariner: eekaaay! you've made your point!!

Earlier version when I thought I was finished:

It’s good to go the extra mile on your art. I think this plainer version would still have been fine, but since I went so far as to actually draw the background for a change, adding the dropped/thrown clutter (PADDs and Tricorder) helped a lot.

T’lyn and Tendi’s mess of legs was hard to differentiate (though adding the shading helps). I made Tendi’s pants slightly darker, though with the shading you can barely tell. I also gave them different boot colors. The original idea was that pure science officers have black and blue boots and medical officers have white and blue boots. We can see that in a few places in season 1. But it seems like they eventually abandoned that concept and just give all science officers white and blue boots. T’lyn is not a medical officer, so obviously she gets black boots. Technically since Tendi is in Senior Science Officer training instead of Medical, she should have black boots, but I gave her white boots so you could tell them apart more easily.

I wasn’t even going to add the facial expressions. I drew this to figure out which one I wanted to use:

Then I put it in the drawing.

But I just kept looking at the sketch and thinking “both are good. Both are good!”

So I made it two panels. Because of how the layers were set up this was easier said than done. But I managed it just fine in the end. I really like how she’s backlit by the ceiling lights in the inset panels. Some kind of like, contrast between the angelic goddess looking down at you and the reality that she’s an emotional mess who wears her emotions on her sleeve.

It was also really important to add the inset panels because I don’t want to give the impression that either Tendi is doing this on purpose nor any orion fem dom stereotypes. It’s way funnier and cuter if she just keeps accidentally finding herself in these scenarios, worried that T’lyn’s resentment for her is growing because SHE KEEPS AVOIDING ME OUTSIDE OF STUDY SESSIONS! AND WHEN WE MAKE EYE CONTACT SHE LOOKS AWAY! I FUCKED UP! but actually T’lyn is just struggling to control her mad nasty thoughts about just what she’d like to do to Tendi (she’d like to hold her hands some more)

Adding the inset panels lets me make sure Tendi’s character is adequately captured so she’s not just A Thing Happening To T’lyn.

The dropped PADDs and Tricorder make the scene seem more diagetic, and just more real/plausible. They’re busy looking at their PADDs and not looking where they’re going, see? The one that’s face down is T’lyn’s, the two face up are Tendi’s. The PADD screens are cropped screenshots from the show that have been edited and then skewed/rotated/rescaled into place

The first PADD is Tendi doing research on Vulcan touch telepathy (after being told by someone else what the significance of handholding is to Vulcans), the second one is actually breaking the fourth wall and addressing the viewer directly.

one of the last touches I added was to erase the line-art around her pupils, so the pupils would look smaller (aids to the feeling of shock) and add a nostril (Dunno why--I never draw nostrils on Lower Decks characters, but it just seemed correct in this case) and a little wrinkle on her eye. All this was added because, when I drew Tendi’s face, it felt more detailed than T’lyn’s for some reason (freckles I think?) and I felt I had to make them match.

T’lyn’s face here was fun and took a while to get right. She (and all Vulcans in Lower Decks) are usually half-lidded, but we see T’lyn’s kinda shock when Tendi grabs her hand in the One Canon T’lyndi Scene We Have At Least Until Next Year--even then she looks attentive, not necessarily shocked.

I just think it’s kind of cool that they both have non-red blood and colorful blush.

#T'lyndi #Tendi #T'lyn #if you like you should reblog; likes do nothing on tumblr #wlw #femslash #D'vana Tendi / T'lyn #D'vana Tendi x T'lyn #Star Trek #Star Trek Lower Decks #Lower Decks #premarital hand holding #Orion #Vulcan #LWD #LOW #LDS

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cinnbar-bun · 1 year

Text

Unrefined

Pairing: P5 Protag x GN!Reader (Ren Amamiya is used as his name)

Summary: Ren is happy to see you again after being separated from you for many years since you two were children. However, he knows he's not exactly the best choice for a boyfriend. In order to look cool, he tries to approach you as Joker.

Of course, reality isn't always that easy and he learns that looking cool isn't the most important thing when it comes to love and friendships.

Rating: G

A/n: Ahhhh I'm loving P5R and I'm loving Ren very much!

Ren was many things growing up. He was rather lackadaisical, unsure of himself, and oftentimes, just plain messy. He was caring and sweet, but his airheadedness had, on multiple occasions, led to some awkward encounters with other people. It was mostly through growing up together that you had understood what he really meant, but not everyone was willing to make the time.

You two had been inseparable as kids, always doing everything with one another. You had seen each other at your most awkward and weirdest- like when you got braces or when he broke his arm trying to do cool moves on the jungle gym. You dressed up in matching costumes and outfits for all sorts of events. He even took you to the middle school dance when no one else bothered with you two. You shared your dreams, worst nightmares, struggles- everything.

Yet, that connection had to be strained when your parents were relocated to Tokyo for work.

His home just wasn’t the same without you. So you two tried to keep contact with each other every day. Texting, calling, sending emails or doing video calls together was such a normal part of his routine.

He told you about how your old home was doing, anything new that was going (there was rarely anything new, though) so a majority of it was spent discussing Tokyo.

“You’d never believe all the lights! It’s crazy bright over here.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I can. Sounds like a hassle, though. Aren’t all those people and lights annoying?”

You only laughed at his response- of course shy and withdrawn Ren would never love a city like this.

Years passed and you two did your best to continue talking, but slowly every day became every other day, to maybe once a week, to sporadically whenever. There was just a lot to deal with, and life at Shujin Academy was anything but easy. He just had to settle for brief text messages and possible calls and gifts for things like birthdays and holidays.

He was stressed after his hearing, so he broke his personal rule of trying to leave you some space to send a message.

Hey it’s kinda urgent do you have time to call?

“Hey, Ren, what’s u-,” you gasped. You looked at him like he was an alien from outer space, and he figured it must be because of how awful he looked right now.

“Something wrong? You just stopped talking,” he commented.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. What’s up? You said it was urgent. Are you doing okay?” You sent a barrage of questions his way and Ren slid a hand through his hair.

“Want the good news or bad news first?” He responded, ignoring your questions.

“Um…” you rose an eyebrow at what he could have possibly done to warrant this question. “Bad first?”

“I’m on probation.”

“WHAT?” You screamed, yet Ren didn’t flinch. “What do you mean probation? What the hell did you do?”

“Some asshole framed me for assault when I was protecting a woman,” he casually answered, as if it was just a normal occurrence for him.

“Seriously? And you still got in trouble?”

“Yeah. It sucks, honestly,” he sighed.

“Jeez I’m…” You looked crestfallen at his explanation and he felt bad he made you feel so glum. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. Besides, there’s some good news.”

“What’s the good news? Please don’t give me another heart attack.”

“I’m moving to Tokyo. Some guy my parents are friends with is taking me in while I’m on probation. And I’m going to that Sunshine Academy you go to.”

“It’s Shujin, for one thing,” you corrected him. “But you’re really coming to Tokyo? Oh my gosh, it’s gonna be like the old times again! I have so many places to show you and take you! You’re gonna love it, I promise.”

“Eh, I dunno. I’m just gonna try and avoid those places. Sorry, I know you probably wanted it to be super fun and all, but I don’t wanna go to jail. It’s a miracle they even left me with only probation. I’m even donning a disguise.”

“A disguise? What do you mean?”

He pulled up a pair of black, thick-framed glasses.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and shook your head.

“That’s not a disguise. Come on, Ren, you can’t be serious.”

“I am. Look,” he put the glasses on and you stared at him deeply. You looked deep in thought and he wondered what was crossing your mind. “See? No one would punch a guy with glasses.”

“You’re hopeless,” you chuckled at his antics.

“But you still love me, right?” He whined, pouting like a child.

“Of course,” you said, the words slipping right out of you. A warm smile crept on your lips as you gazed at him. “So… when you come to Tokyo, I’ll make sure you have the best probation ever. You can even visit my house. It’s got a nice view of the city and we have a great diner nearby.”

He smiled for what felt like the first time in a while since this miserable incident.

“Thanks, (Y/n), I know I can always count on you.”

A few more pleasantries were exchanged and you two logged off, leaving him staring alone at his own reflection from his computer. He looked down at himself and frowned.

Great, he was going to see his best friend (and crush) for the first time in years, and it’s because he was accused of committing a crime. In some ways, though, he felt safe with you and could put his probation aside.

He hoped you would continue to be his friend in Tokyo. It was probably going to be a long year there, and he wasn’t looking forward to all the judgmental people. So much for being a guy you could depend on. Just like always, you were the one who would have to help him and accept him. He wished he was not this lame dude who couldn’t even handle a few rumors, but this isolation was killing him.

----

Ren always knew he wasn’t the most attractive guy ever. Or the smartest. Or the most courageous or confident. Barely had any talents or future aspirations beyond “just make it to the weekend”. He was pretty below-average, all things considered. And he was honest about that, like he was with pretty much everything else. He didn’t like beating around the bush or lying to others.

Sadly, his big mouth got him into this probation (he still didn’t regret it) but man, it was exhausting to try and bite his tongue back at every opportunity.

He couldn’t fight back or argue when the people made audacious claims about him. Couldn’t say a thing when people purposefully riled him up to get him to act out. Ren couldn’t even properly ask out the best friend he had loved since they were kids. Nor could he defend them whenever someone tried to spread rumors about them because of their association with him.

But, that was Ren.

Joker, however, was a completely different story. Joker was cool, suave, elegant- everything the clumsy second-year wasn’t. He could flirt with monsters and defeat evil while looking completely badass doing it.

But it’s not like he could be Joker all the time, not with the Phantom Thieves working in the shadows and him still being under the watchful eye of almost everyone in society. He had to keep it quiet.

Joker was Ren’s safe space to act out and be the man he wished to be. No one knew who he was, no one held any expectations for him- they just knew he was there to get the job done. And he did it, flawlessly, every time.

Which is why it was frustrating Ren would get so tongue-tied the minute he wished to talk to you.

The years were kind to you- very kind to you, actually- and he marveled at how you grew to be more confident and proud than when you were younger. You had a steady head on your shoulders, leading you to be the secretary of the student council and great in your club activities.

He wished he could spill everything to you, everything about the Phantom Thieves, the Metaverse, personas- it would be so much easier if you knew. But he knew that if he bothered, you would simply laugh and say he probably was pounding too many energy drinks. None of it was believable, even to his own self.

He hated lying to you, he despised it so much, but you were too understanding to call him out on his bullshit. You knew he was lying through his teeth about being ‘busy’, and he knew you were lying when you would smile and say you were ‘fine’ when he would miss out on another outing.

He didn’t know how to make it up to you or truly admit he was the Phantom Thief that had grown so popular.

He had brought this question up to his team members, and frankly, all of them were sending mixed signals.

“Do not reveal your identity to them! They could be a traitor and rat us all out! Or worse, they could try and use you!” Makoto would say.

“You should totally reveal it! And you love them a lot, right? Maybe you can make it up to them by taking them to an all-you-can-eat buffet with extra dessert!” Ann squealed.

“No, make it meat! They gotta love that, right?” Ryuji would add.

“I would say a buffet is not classy enough. You wish to showcase your heart’s true intentions to them, no? You should whisk them away to a beautiful resort and craft a gorgeous jewel that they can wear to remind them of you and-”

“Yusuke… you do recognize Ren is a poor high school kid, right?” Futaba raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think he even has a dollar to his name, right now.”

“I have twenty dollars to my name, thank you very much,” Ren corrected. “Wait- no- that’s not the point.”

And then he was back to square one. Sure, he read Reckless Casanova and The Art of Charm, and it did help as Joker, but he was helpless when it came to you.

There’s no way you’d like whimpering, pathetic Ren, especially when compared to the city boys of Tokyo, who were way flashier, energetic, and could treat you right. Unlike him, who couldn’t even say a word when people smeared your name.

That’s when a thought came to mind- he should confess to you as Joker! Joker was everything Ren was not, and you’d surely fall for him, right? All he’d have to do is play it cool as Joker, and you’d be swooning for him in no time!

He imagined the scenario in his head.

You were there, sitting in your dark room with your balcony window open. He would jump through the buildings and smoothly glide to your balcony. You would be breathless at the sight of this handsome phantom thief, who looked so similar to someone you knew, but unlike him, this man was cooler. Better. Smarter. He was the entire package.

You would be crying over that lame good-for-nothing boy who gave you nothing but trouble, and Joker would wipe your tears away.

Perhaps he’d say a really nice line in French to really hammer in the ‘phantom thief’ act. You’d embrace him and he’d confess your undying love to him, and you would accept it in a heartbeat.

Yeah, this plan had zero chance of failing.

----

Ren, donning his disguise and mask, descended upon your rooftop. He made sure to be as quiet as possible, hoping to fulfill the dream movie scenario he had planned up. It was foolproof, he’d smugly thought.

As he was preparing to jump down to your balcony, he noticed something shuffling near him.

Was it someone watching him? He turned back to see a group of rats in the darkness, watching him.

“Shoo! Go away!” He swatted at them. Some went scrambling and he thought he was in the clear. That was until he heard their chittering and squeaking. The group had ran back to him and were hissing at him, and he brought out his dagger. “Shit-!”

The rats lunged at him and he quickly jumped down on your balcony to avoid getting bitten by one of them. He crashed onto the floor and groaned in pain, cursing the rats and the concrete of the balcony.

He heard some shuffling and the balcony door swung open, revealing a very angry you with your cellphone at your side.

“Wonder what-” you screamed as you locked eyes with him, and slammed the door shut. “Who the hell are you?! Get the hell out of here or I’m calling the police!”

You typed something on your phone and Ren was panicking. Shit, he couldn’t mess up or get caught by the police. That would ruin his life and everyone else in the Phantom Thieves’s life.

“W-wait! S’il vous plait!” He screeched one of the few phrases of French he knew. He slapped himself internally at the fact he even used French when you were trying to call the cops.

Great job, brainiac.

You seemed taken aback by him until you put your phone down and raised a knowing eyebrow at him.

“Ren? What are you doing?” You asked.

Now he was in deep shit. He quickly stood up and posed by the balcony, as if he was just casually strolling by.

“I don’t know who-” Crap, I can’t use my voice. He cleared his throat and tried to make it deeper. “Uh, I mean, I don’t know who this ‘Ren’ person is.”

You looked unimpressed, and he knew his cover was blown.

“Ren, what’s with the get up and trying to break into my house?”

“I assure you, (Y/n), I was not trying to break into your house!” He answered in his fake, deep voice.

You strode over to him, and he leaned back into the balcony ledge, trying to avoid touching you.

Too close! Too fast! Shit! Abort! Abort! Abort mission! We’ll get them next time!

“So, mysterious stranger who is not Ren,” you sarcastically began, “what are you doing here?”

You stepped closer and he leaned closer against the edge. He peered down and saw how far below the sidewalk was and gulped.

“I-I am- gah!” He felt his body slip over the ledge after he tried to lean against it. He yelped and quickly brought out his grappling hook and shot it to your balcony, before slinging himself back up.

He sat on the ledge, crossing his leg over the other and running a hand through his hair as if he wasn’t about to fall to his death just seconds before.

“I couldn’t help but um, couldn’t help but be taken aback with your beauty, mon amour!” He dramatically stated, winking at you and handing you a (crumpled) rose he had picked out earlier for this very moment.

Unlike in the dream sequence he conjured up, you were not breathless or swooning- instead, you were laughing.

“Oh my gosh, Ren, what the hell is all this?” You said in between bouts of laughter.

Normally, he loved your laugh, but in this situation, he felt his pride crumble to dust.

“I… I, uh…” Not even Joker could save him. He could practically hear Arsene in the back of his head howling in laughter at the way he messed up.

Ren sighed and took off the mask.

“Yeah, okay, you figured it out, it’s me,” he said, defeated and exhausted. You wiped the tears out of your eyes and examined him.

“Wait, no way! You’re part of the Phantom Thieves-” you loudly exclaimed, and Ren shushed you quickly.

“You can’t reveal it out loud! I’m not even supposed to be here!”

“Sorry,” you complied, whispering to him. “You’re part of the Phantom Thieves?”

He nodded.

“Yes, you’re looking at the leader of them.”

“No way…” You stared, gobsmacked.

“Listen, I get it, it’s hard to believe and you may think I’m crazy but-”

“Huh? This explains everything!” You grinned. “I just… I just thought you were avoiding me and didn’t wanna see me again. You avoided me for so long and always hung out with the others, I assumed you got tired of me! But really, you were a part of the Ph-”

“Shhhh! Not so loud!” He whisper-shouted.

You fanned yourself and he noticed your eyes were becoming wet with tears. Your face was turning red and you were straining yourself to not cry.

“Crap, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he apologized. “This wasn’t how I wanted this to go…”

“Well, you idiot, of course you make me cry. We were best friends and this whole time I thought you hated me. Why didn’t you just tell me sooner? Why didn’t you trust me? Did you think I would have told on you? And now you’re coming here randomly at night and pretending you’re not even you! Don’t you know how that looks to me?”

“I know, I know I…” he shamefully looked at the ground. “I know. I messed up. I messed up really bad but that’s why I came. I didn’t know who to trust, and I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me. And I see that I was the fool for not believing in you to begin with. You were always too good for me, (Y/n). So I wanted to be upfront with you and give you this.”

Ren extended his hand to show the broken rose again as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’m not perfect. I’m not as handsome, or as rich, or as cool as the other guys and I am a huge coward. I run at every opportunity. But I wanted to have you see me as… you know… someone better than me. Someone who could treat you right, defend you, and not have you always try to care for them. I know I’ve been an asshole, and I wanted to fix it. I wanted to just be someone you could rely on for a moment. Because you mean the world to me. Always have.”

You gasped and he looked at you to see your reaction. A few tears had fallen down your cheek and you covered your mouth in shock.

“Sorry, I know you’re probably upset so I’ll leave-” he began, putting a leg over the ledge to jump down when you grabbed him.

“D-don’t walk away, idiot! You didn’t even let me respond!” You shouted tearfully. He settled back onto the balcony and you threw your arms around him. “You’re really dense. You’re not a bother to me and I don’t want anyone but you. I don’t want this Joker guy, or those other people in our school. I just want you, Ren. Did you really think I would continue hoping for you to see me more if I didn’t care for you? Did you really think I would wait around for just about anybody?”

Now he felt his face heat up.

“Wait, you mean it? You like me too?” His gray eyes sparkled under the moonlight and his smile was wide. He must have looked so stupid, but he didn’t care at this moment. He was just happy you didn’t hate him and actually liked him!

“Yes, but if you wanna make it up to me, you have to promise something.” You pushed yourself off of him for a brief moment and had a serious look on your face.

“Anything.”

“No more lying to me like that. Please don’t hide things from me.”

“I promise.”

“Good. Don’t underestimate the both of us together. I rely on you just as much as you rely on me, silly. You don’t have to be anything other than you. I like how dorky and lame you are sometimes.”

Ren let out an offended gasp.

“I’m not dorky!” You smirked and pulled him down by the collar. He felt his heart race a mile a minute and he was curious what you were going to do next.

“Shut up and kiss me already, Ren,” you laughed, and he felt himself melt at the sound of your voice.

“Of course, my treasure,” he grinned as he tried to go through every tip those romantic books wrote in his head.

He pressed his lips against yours gently, almost unsure if he should even go through with it. You kissed him back and he felt himself slowly let go of his insecurities and enjoy your presence like this.

The need for air arose so he (unfortunately) separated himself from you. You laughed quietly as you stared into his eyes, and he wanted to memorize every detail about you.

“You kiss a bit too well, Ren, don’t tell me you practiced with someone else?” You teased.

“N-no I just… read a lot of books.” You snorted at his response and pressed a kiss to his nose.

“Gosh, you’re the best. Don’t tell me you also learned your terrible French from those books too?”

“Maybe…”

Sure he wasn’t perfect, but in this moment. There was nobody he’d rather be than himself in all his imperfect glory.

#persona 5 #persona 5 x reader #persona 5 protagonist #persona 5 protagonist x reader #ren amamiya x reader #ren amamiya #akira kurusu #akira kurusu x reader #my writing

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queen-of-scissors · 1 year

Note

Hello there 💧anon

I don’t know if you celebrate Christmas but if you feel comfortable with it could you write something post imposter au where the reader is forgiving and all and the reader wants to celebrate but is walking on eggshells and is scared to introduce anything new as to not anger the acolytes and lots of comfort

Merry Christmas or whatever you celebrate

İ. Must. Finish. This. Before. New year!!!!

Also i don't celebrate Christmas but i think i have a good understanding of the things thats done in it, so ill try my best ^^

İf i wrote something that sounds rude in anyway to any culture i apologise, feel free to correct me in the comments i love learning more about cultures :)

Happy Christmas or New year or Yule or whichever you celebrate :D ☃️❄️

masterlist

WARNİNGS: no specific gender, mentions of alcohol, angst with comfort, the reader is physically hurt in the flashback

___________________________________

Memories of the snow.

________________________________________

The warm weather of Dragonspine slowly caresses your face.

İt wasn't supposed to be warm, but then again, a lot of the thing that you lived through wasn't supposed to happen at all. Maybe it's because it's supposed to be codes, You had to start to get used to that.

İt hurt to walk, but you can't stop yet. İf you don't find something edible soon you might pass out from exhaustion, which could make you an easy target for your... Hunters.

Just as you think about food, you realize a sweet aroma filling the air.

Ever since you got here, you have been unbelievably lucky, maybe whichever god that's up there pitied you, or maybe this is a trap.

Either way, you slowly walk up the path, hoping to find a hilichurl camp and not fatui ones as the nice smell is getting stronger.

You couldn't help but daydream about the food you might eat, it doesn't smell like regular Hilichurl meat, which doesn't even smell at all. Maybe it's 'goulash'? The food for Dragonspine that helps you to survive longer in the harsh wind. Though you don't really need it in this condition.

Maybe it's not red meat, it smells less strong for it, is it 'sweet Madame'? You always wanted to eat some ever since you fell here. You tried to recreate it but all you could do was eat chicken that tasted like grass.

As the smell is getting closer, you slowly begin to wake up.

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

"Your highness? Are you still resting?"

You opened your eyes, and your golden abode greets you once again.

The nightmare, no, the flashback felt so real. You could still feel the hunger in your stomach and the warmth of the food you were about to eat in the dream.

... Also the Sharp pain piercing through your right shoulder before you could even get your first bite.

"I apologize for disturbing you," the voice from the back of the door spoke up. "However we need to start your Schedule immediately, it is a busy day today"

Their voice was apologetic, kind even, but it still made your blood run cold by how assertive it felt over you.

"I'm up. İ will be out soon" you got up from the bed immediately as the voice started telling you what needs to be done today.

Your clothes were so uncomfortably comfortable. it was light and it wraps your body perfectly, which was the same exact reason why it felt like it got stuck on your skin. Which is why you didn't feel bad that you had to take them out.

You threw your clothes on your work table and your eyes got stuck on the calendar on it.

...oh it was New year already?

İt might not be in your own world, since time works differently between them. You wonder if it's snowing there? Perhaps it just started, or maybe the snow is thick enough to have a snowball fight.

You missed Earth. You really did. Even the times when it felt suffocating to live in sometimes. Even the times you were forced to have family dinners on occasion, well, those weren't that bad. You usually sat somewhere playing genshin when your family members scolded you for being on your phone.

Back then, you would kill for meeting your characters under the mistletoe.

... But now, maybe it's better not to meet them at all.

İts not that you are angry at them, you even forgive them after all that! They didn't know who you were after all, but you still feel like you are walking on a landmine every time you talk to them.

What if you say something or ask something that you are not supposed to, what then? They say that they have no reason to hurt you, but you learned that all of your current power is depending on your people the moment you set foot here.

You are nothing without your followers.

Your thoughts get cut off by the door opening once you finish getting dressed.

You are greeted by Tartaglia, who was smiling at you warmly, however, it looked so fake to you. You could almost picture him practicing in front of the mirror just so it looks friendly and approachable to you. You still appreciated the thought.

"Good morning, your Grace! Please excuse my sudden visit, I just needed to speak with you for a moment."

"...Of course," you decide to avert your eyes to the furniture, suddenly the numbers on the calendar seemed so interesting than whatever repent prayer he has for you.

He gets to his one knee, "oh, the all-loving and forgiving god of all gods, we are but merely weaklings under your strength, perhaps I ask too much, however... Err..." He stops and then continues.

"However i-"

"That..." You cut in a soft voice, you averted your eyes once you realized what you've done. "sorry I didn't mean to stop you I just..." you looked at him again "this doesn't sound like you at all."

You let go of the breath you didn't realize you were holding when Ajax laughs "Hahaha, is it that obvious that I practiced?"

His friendly voice eases your tension a bit. He continues with a more relaxed tone.

"İ didn't want to anger you more than I already have, and what I'm about to ask for might sound a bit selfish, so I asked Mr. Zhongli on how can I speak properly, without disrespecting you in any way." İt was his turn to avert his eyes now.

"...Why?"

Ajax looks back at you, confused "What do you mean, your Grace?"

"I already said I forgive all, what makes you think İ'm still angry?"

"...Well" Ajax gets up from where he was and attempts to fix his posture before continuing, "Forgive me if it's rude in any way, your holiness, however..."

"Your smile seems fake."

You freeze.

When he sees your expression, he turns back to Tartaglia again. The only-business part of himself. The cold one.

"İ know what we've done is unforgivable. You are truly the most kind to not even want us to witness your wrath. but please, no need to fake it to make us feel better."

They think that you are still mad, while you are just afraid.

You want to tell them. You want to explain and talk about it, but you can't even bring yourself to open your mouth.

Why are you still afraid? War is already over. They need to know that too!

So be it. İf you can't bring yourself to talk about that. Maybe you can prove to them you are not mad by showing them.

"...let's talk about that later. What did you need from me?"

He looks at you "ok then, uh... its almost time for the festival in Shneznaya, we do that at every start of the year to celebrate- uhh, you might already know,

İ won't be personally attending, of course! Someone needs to protect you~" he winks "But, my siblings are a bit hard to convince. They want to spend time with me and well..."

"Do you want to go?"

Tartaglia laughs again "I won't lie and say that I don't miss my homeland. But that's not why I'm here."

He smiles a bit, you swore you could see his eyes light up a little, but it's gone as soon as you saw it, it might just be the sun playing tricks on you.

"My siblings want to spend the holiday with me. İ know it's selfish of me to ask to bring children to such a holy place-"

"You can bring them."

He turns his head towards you as soon as you let those words get past your lips, "Realy?"

You think about it. They are just children, they can't really harm you. Plus it might be even nice hearing about the holidays.

"Yeah! İt would be nice to have children at the dinner table. İt might even help release tension caused by my presence." You thought out loud.

He catches up on that.

"You would be pretty anxious too if you were at a table with your god~" he teased.

You smiled, and Ajax could suddenly feel his numb heart all over again.

"Maybe you are right, thank you. Ajax"

Ajax didn't answer. You called for him but he looks at you like how a reindeer would look at the car flash.

"OH SHİ- AJAX BREATH!!!!"

________________________________________

You were wrong.

Now that you feel less scared of the things around you, you can finally see that your acolytes feel somewhat worse.

Your grand dinner table was decorated with the customs of the Shneznayan festival. İt was a beautiful combination of white, red, green, and Gold. İt was almost the same as Christmas in your own world, the only difference was instead of the big decorated tree, there was a statue of you.

That, and your acolytes looking at their plate in shame, as if seeing even a piece of your hair is sacrilege.

Even with their close proximity, Archons were still the least close to you in terms of emotions. Their usual chattiness from in-game voice lines was long gone, you were sure you could even make Zhongli eat seafood in this state of his mind.

The gods were, of course, sitting closest to you. Usually, no one else joins you on your meals but on occasion, some people are invited over just because of formalities. Even then, your guests sit at another table, which is far away from you but in a place where you can still see their faces.

Not in this situation though. You especially requested that they dine with you at the same table. Making Tartaglia the Target of the glares tonight.

This heavy atmosphere makes you feel like you made a mistake. Maybe you shouldn't talk about it and treat it as a normal dinner, hearing about your world might make them feel worse, and if it gets worse-

"Your highness!!! Look what I drew!"

You look at Teucer. He is holding a drawing he made of you.

You feel everyone holding their breath as you gently take the drawing from his hands. Will you think of it as blasphemy?

İn the drawing, you hold his hand and someone else's hand while all three of you fly through, what seems to be, Shneznaya's City... İn the arms of a ruin guard.

"This is so nice Teucer! Thank you so much!"

Teucer lets out an excited gasp, "You know my name?!"

"Of course! İ know a lot of things" you smiled warmly and looked at his other siblings "I also know about Tonia and Anthon!"

As the kids look at each other all excitedly, the room suddenly seems a little bit lighter.

"Yes, the Creator knows everything indeed!" Ajax tells them. "They also know when you don't eat your greens and that makes them sad you know~"

"You guys don't eat your vegetables?" You play along "but I created them for you"

Tonia stutters "b-but... They don't taste good!"

Anthon joins in "But you ALSO created fish! So we can eat those!"

You laugh, they are pretty smart, huh!

"Well, I have nothing to say to that! Please eat as much as you like from whatever you like today!"

The children go back to their meals as the table falls silent once more,

Until you hear a mouse squeak in the crowd.

"Your highness did you just laugh?!" Venti partially screams, with that voice, you understand that the mouse was him all along.

"Barbatos, have some manners!" Zhongli suddenly speaks "Did you forget where you might be, or shall I remind you?"

"your laugh sounds so refreshing, your Grace! Like pure water in the middle of a desert!" Sais Nahida, clearly happy for you!

"AHEM, might I remind you all that this sudden outburst can scare them?" Tsaritsa states politely.

"But we never heard them laugh! I think this deserves a celebration!" Venti says while getting up "İM GETTİNG THE VİNE!!!"

"Stop! There are children here!" Childe gets up to stop him.

"İ- uhm, it's really not that big of a deal?" You say softly.

"Please don't mind those idiots, your grace." Tsaritsa shoots a glare across the table. "They simply can't control their emotions, however, I must say, even though it is rare for me to actually agree with that drunkard, I also believe that this calls for a celebration."

Nahida continues before you could say anything "I also agree! İt's been a while since we heard your laugh again. A celebration for the bird, that has found its voice once again!"

"Speaking of the Celebration, is anything particular about this festival that made you want to open up to us again?" Falcuar asked.

"Oh yeah! Why is this cooolldd festival but not a better one? Like the wind-"

Venti was silenced by two very angry gods, and forced to sit down on his chair again.

"Well? Tell us!" The god of Pyro beamed.

And at that moment, after months and months of convincing, you finally felt safe enough to show emotions. Which made you feel all of them at the same time and...

"YOUR HOLİNESS-"

"İt's ok," Nahida smiled gently "please let it all out, you don't need to stop yourself from feeling anymore."

"I swear if you make a reference to pooping about it I will-"

"Hehehe, as you wish!"

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

You finally let go of -most- of your fears and told them more about the traditions in your world.

They finally understand your point of view. They approach you gently now.

Nahida suggested babyproof your abode so you don't feel any accidental physical pain that reminds you of those times. İt's up to you to accept or not.

The bubbly types try not to do sudden things that May scare you (Yoimiya even tries to find a way to make soundless fireworks (failed))

And most of all, people don't beg for forgiveness every time they see you now!

However, you couldn't stop them from celebrating this day as the day of your smile. They give presents to each other as a way to bring a smile to their, and your, face. They also stole some of the traditions in your world just so it makes you feel more at home.

They hope that you will smile and be happy the next year as well :)

❄️🎉Happy New year, creator!!!🎉❄️

824 notes · View notes

pearlparty · 10 months

Text

It’s Cuffin’ Season

Brat/Sub!Austin x Reader

Summary: It all started out as a fun little game of teasing, harmless. Except this time he broke one of the rules. And then he broke another rule, because he just couldn’t help himself. He didn’t expect being tied up, gagged, and edged to tears as a result though. Furthermore, he’d never have expected himself to like it. Check that, no, love it.

Warnings: SMUT!!!, heavy dom/sub dynamics, Brat!Austin (but one could argue that it’s just banter and not bratty), Sub!Austin, handcuffs, teasing, edging, masturbation (f/m), oral (f/m receiving), hand job, use of a tie as a gag, a tiny bit of degradation, lots of praise, momma kink, ma’am kink, usage of the nickname “baby boy”, lots of begging and apologizing, male whimpering, a dash of dacryphilia (if you can even call it that), tons of dirty talk, brief discussion/use of the color system safe words, unprotected penetrative sex, spitting/swallowing spit, cockwarming, creampie, no use of Y/N, first time writing smut, super quick/rushed ending probably

Word Count: 9k

Note: This is my first time writing smut, so please provide ANY/ALL of the feedback (and I really mean good and bad because I really want to step up my game with this, so feel free to be mean lol). I wrote this for @purejasmine who asked for some apologetic and crying Austin. Hope I could do it justice, babe, and sorry it took five-ever lol. This has been sitting in the archive for a while because I’ve been so anxious about posting it, so the end wraps things up super quickly--if you have any suggestions about how to properly wrap it up, please, message me! If I’ve written anything that has concerning themes that I’ve not addressed, please let me know. I also feel the need to mention that this is takes place in an established relationship with switch dynamics that aren’t really discussed. This is filthy, God, I’m sorry.

The two of you had been apart for what felt like forever (in reality, it was only about a month, but it felt like forever to two idiots who were hopelessly in love and obsessed with each other). You’d been in Paris boss bitching your fall fashion designs to a couple of top executives and he’d been gone for press tours.

It was easy at first. You’d call every night to check in and say your sappy goodnights (even though the time difference usually meant one of you was saying good morning). FaceTime provided some element of comfort to satiate his need for you, but the small screen of blue light did little in comparison to your soft touch and warm skin. Still, he held out because at least he could see you.

The second week was a little harder. A little game had started up between the two of you. Phone calls littered with subtle innuendos had turned to lightly provocative selfies and texts which turned into downright filthy messages sent to each other during the work day. In fact, it got to the point that whenever your name popped up on his screen, he had to check his surroundings before he looked at the message. Unfortunately, he had also learned the hard way to make sure his brightness and volume were low, thanks to a sexy little voice note that had him jumping out of his skin and nearly throwing his phone into the street—which had earned him a poorly hidden side-eye from one of the PAs that had been nearby.

The game of teasing had begun, and while he absolutely loved it, you’d set an impossible finish line: wait until we’re together again. He’d audibly groaned when the words left your mouth, dripping with sex. “Just think how much better it’s gonna be when you’re fucking me instead of your hand. Can you wait for me, baby? Wait for me to come home and take your cock in whatever way pleases you?” He reluctantly agreed, but the images in his phone had been tempting enough as it was. The rest of the time away would be a nightmare.

It’d been easy in the day—there had been a few moments where he zoned out staring into the middle distance, pulling his lip between his teeth, as flashes of your face creased in ecstasy graced his imagination, but the tasks before him always pulled him back to the present without a problem.

Nights on the other hand? That was a whole different problem—it was awfully easy to let his mind wander in an empty hotel room when his phone was right there with a variety of scandalous pictures of you on it. Well… let’s just say that he’d used the pictures you’d sent to hype himself up a bit, but he’d held out despite that little horny voice in the back of his head that tempted him to undo his pants for a quick couple strokes. He might have taken a cold shower or two (or six), but he’d managed to do it.

The four weeks away had him aching to spend a few blissful moments in your presence; it’d be a chance to hold you and recount your trip’s details—touch your face, caress your curves with his fingers, and bury his face in your stomach as you lightly play with his curls.

Right before he railed you into the mattress.

But that’s not how things worked out, huh? Unfortunately, your flight had been canceled due to the weather in Rennes, France, so your schedule had you just barely getting home before the charity gala the next day. You hadn’t been too worried on the phone, brushing it all off with a lovely, “C’est la vie,” but Austin held back an annoyed groan. The man had been waiting to have you all to himself, tucked away in his arms in your little corner of the world, and now he’d have to wait even longer to have you.

Now, that pesky little voice seemed a little louder. His horniness, and perhaps slight jet lag, had begun to eat away at his resolve and soon he found himself leaning back on the couch, staring at the ceiling, filthy thoughts rolling through his head. He glanced at the clock. Around 3. She’s not going to be home for a few hours, the little voice offered. And you won’t be able to have her until after the gala. She’d never know. Besides, it’s good for stress relief, and you’ve been so worked up for so long. You deserve this.

His patience had worn thin and he gave into those carnal urges before you got home. He had the images pulled up on his phone, listening to the voice memos, over and over again as he pictured you coming undone beneath him. He rode that wave to the peak.

And then you walked in on him. His heart (and impending orgasm) stopped. Everything seemed to freeze as you locked eyes with him and pursed your lips.

“Is that any way to greet the love of your life after a month apart?”

Heat rose in his cheeks and ears with embarrassment. Shit, he thought. Not only had you caught him masturbating, you had caught him masturbating after you explicitly told him not to masturbate while you were gone.

It was only a few seconds, but it dragged out for an eternity. Austin let go of his cock and sat up a little straighter, eyes darting around the room as he started a defense, “Babe, I, uh--”

“Needed me that bad, huh, baby boy?” you purred as you strutted towards him, lidded eyes never leaving his panicked and confused ones as you closed the distance between you. You dragged your hands up and over his knees and thighs, leaning down enough to give him a little bit of a show with your loose neckline dangling open. His mouth fell open into a small O-shape, still confused, but not unhappy, that you were acting like this.

“Hm?” you hummed, nails ghosting over his cock as you leaned down close to his ear to taunt him with a salacious, “Oh, honey, we both know that your hand can’t hold a flame to me. Do you need me now?” You leaned in closer with a breathy sigh. “Want me to take you right here? Wanna come inside me after a month of being apart?”

Austin’s eyes rolled back in his head as he listened to the sin fall from your lips. For a moment he’d completely forgotten about the promise he’d broken. For a moment he just had you.

“Oh yes, baby, yes. I do,” he moaned as your hands slid over his shoulders, teasing the fabric of his white tee up his torso just a couple inches. He gently let his hands slide up the sides of your waist. “Need you so bad.”

A light chuckle resonated in your chest before you continued in a breathy whisper, “You know I was going to make it special.” He barely processed the words as he melted into your touch on his neck, spellbound by the way your fingernails lightly scraped over his scalp and mussed his curls. And then you were a lips’ distance away and he could only marvel at the way you’d enchanted him with your touch, hypnotizing him with your soft tone and bedroom eyes.

“Think of all the sinful things we could have done before the gala tonight, Aus,” you breathed as you leaned in even closer. He nearly closed the distance between your lips himself, but--

“Since you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, I guess we’ll just have to wait a little longer, won’t we.” You pulled away harshly, leaving him chasing your skin with a small protesting whine and a small “no” as you drew back and met his gaze with maliciousness, still gripping his hair in an iron vice like some sort of seductress. No.

Dominatrix.

Austin gulped.

“Now, you’re gonna listen to me, baby, and you’re gonna listen good,” you admonished, making him nod, suddenly struck dumb at your quick mood change. You had never spoken to him like this before… and he couldn’t say that he didn’t like it. You kept your voice low and level, but not angry. If anything, your words almost contradicted your sultry tone. “We’re going to go to the gala in a couple of hours. We’re going to have a real good time. You’re going to be on your best behavior—keep your hands to yourself, be the perfect arm candy for me, and then,” you leaned in again, “if you’re good,” your lips just ghosted the shell of his ear as you brought your voice down to a whisper, “I’m going to fuck your brains out when we get home.”

The brazened words sent a thrill straight to his cock, and he suddenly couldn’t breathe anymore.

“But,” you jerked his head back to look at you fully, a fire burning in your eyes as you laid it out crystal clear. “You put your hands on yourself or misbehave for the tiniest fraction of a second, and I will have you crying and begging for mercy.”

The next words left his mouth unbidden, “Is that a threat or a promise?”

You licked your lips and cocked your head to the side, looking him up and down. “Huh,” the tip of your tongue grazed the bottom of your front teeth, “never woulda pegged you as a brat, Mr. Butler.”

You released his hair and caressed your fingers over his cheek before running your thumb down his full bottom lip. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

He hummed in response, his half lidded gaze and smirk doing well for himself. A thrill shot through your abdomen. This was turning out to be one of the best games you’d ever played, it seemed. You gripped his jaw and went in for a slow kiss. A simple kiss to greet your lover with affection after the weeks apart. “I missed you, by the way,” you muttered to his lips, allowing the persona to take a backseat for a moment and let your mushy feelings out before you had to become the stern woman in charge again.

“Missed you, too,” he muttered back, letting his fingers tease the seam of your pants by your knees.

“Trust me, I’m aware.” You glanced down to his still exposed dick and smirked a little as he blushed. “Now,” you gently tapped his cheek, “get your ass into the bathroom and take a cold shower for me, yeah?”

Needless to say, putting his hands on himself had been one of the few thoughts rolling around in his head as he stepped under the cold water—which didn’t help much besides shock his body back to homeostasis, by the way—and then changed into the dark blue suit set you’d picked out for him shortly after. And as he watched you slink out from your closet draped in a shimmery gold dress that left little to his raunchy imagination, he had to turn and mentally bite his fist to calm himself. The slit in the skirt revealing your leg practically screamed, “Easy access, easy access, easy access!” His fingers itched to slide up your waist and slip the delicate straps from your shoulders. They ached to caress your stomach, thighs, and breasts, but your warning played on repeat in his head and he restrained himself to stick to the rules of engagement you’d given him.

But what would happen if I didn’t play by the rules? he thought. Austin wasn’t sure whether it was unbridled curiosity or some unchecked internal masochism that he’d yet to address, but something had prompted the thought as the two of you climbed into the back of the car. He wanted to see just how far you’d take things.

How could he push you to the end of your rope? And what would lie in wait for him once he’d done it?

A smirk played on the corner of his mouth as the car stopped at your destination. He’d play his part, yes. He’d be the perfect arm candy to the fashion executive woman who needed to hobnob with the rich for a while to maintain those business relationships. He’d open doors, help you from the car, make small talk with individuals with inflated senses of purpose, fetch drinks, and smile for pictures. Yes, he’d do all of that.

But he wanted to have a little fun with you, too. And after two and a half hours of watching you do your job accepting the praise from your colleagues, he finally allowed himself to do just that. Maybe it was his own sexual frustration, or even the three glasses of gin, that pushed him to such uncharacteristic public boldness, but he couldn’t ignore the way he felt drawn to your body as you and a small group of stylists listened to your colleague Jean-Luc Gaultier speak about his defeats and triumphs with his latest line of men’s trousers.

Austin appeared to be listening to the Frenchman intently, but his mind was elsewhere as he let his hand snake around your waist and caress the silk material. His fingers pressed into the front of your hip bone in a tantalizing motion as he slid them impossibly close to your hip flexor for the briefest of moments—just teasing you with the idea of the possibility of where he would go next. Your breath hitched, but you maintained your decorum and covered it up by clearing your throat as you shot Austin a look out of the corner of your eye. He ignored it.

Jean-Luc didn’t seem to notice either, and continued to prattle on about the season to the group of people in the small circle. The other designers in the conversation didn’t pay you mind, only eager to please the executive with fake laughter and ingenuine flattery.

Austin’s hand wandered again, gently sliding up your waist to allow his thumb to ghost the underside of your breast before dropping to cop a feel of your ass. Your eyes widened at the sensation, and you snatched his hand in yours. Without even looking at Austin, you could tell he had that stupid smirk on his lips.

“Excuse me, Jean-Luc,” you gently interjected with a tight smile on your face when the executive came to the end of his story. The graying man looked over his round pink sunglasses with a quirked brow. “I think I need to go out for a smoke. I’ll be right back.” You finally turned to shoot a warning look at Austin. “Come with me, dear?”

You didn’t even give him a chance to answer as you dragged him away towards the large door out the back, keeping an eye out for any lingering guests that might have gone out as well.

The heavy door slammed closed as you and Austin stepped into the cool night air. Alone. Without a second thought, you whipped the tall man around you and roughly shoved him into the red brick with a huff, your dark nails biting into his neck.

“What the hell was that?” You hissed through gritted teeth. You’d been patient up until now, but this recent disobedience flipped the switch pushed all the pent up sexual frustration from the past month to something a little more aggressive than you’d ever expected. “You really think you can get away with that fiasco back home and then you come here and pull that shit? You’re a little too cocky for your own good.”

“Oh, c’mon, darlin’,” he rasped out, throwing in a little bit of that southern twang that you’d never openly admit to loving so much. “You know I can’t keep my hands off you.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly. Was he trying to get out of this or make it worse on himself? A wave of inappropriate ideas flooded the forefront of your mind. You couldn’t help but grin a little.

“You’re not too good at following rules, are you?” your low voice sent a shiver up his spine, and he met your half-lidded gaze with one of his own. You pulled your lip between your teeth in contemplation. “What on earth am I gonna do with you?”

“Nothing I don’t deserve, I’m sure,” he goaded you. This was uncharted territory for both of you, but he was more than eager to push the limits to fill in the blank edges on the map.

“Who’s to say you deserve anything?” You shortened the gap between your lips as much as you could given Austin’s insane height advantage over you.

He nearly moaned at the bite in your words and the feeling of your nails on his neck. “Ooh, I like it when you’re mean, baby.” Ever the perfect scene partner, he improvised in this little game of yours while eloquently giving you the green light to lay on in thick. And you’d do just that.

You hummed. “You’re a pussy hungry, arrogant little whore, aren’t you? You go home and jerk off to the thought of me when I explicitly told you not to and then you come here and let your hands wander after I asked you to be a good boy.” You let your words drip from your mouth with a sickeningly sweet glaze. “Do you think it’s funny disobeying me? Where exactly do you get off with that, huh?”

“With you, hopefully,” he rasped, keeping his words between the two of you as he smirked. Currently, nothing seemed more appealing than wiping that smug look off of his beautiful face. Your fingers twisted around his tie as you wrenched him closer, a sinister smile spreading over your lips.

“We’ll see,” you whispered before dragging him inside like a dog on his leash. It didn’t take him long to catch up, and you quickly dropped his tie and slipped your hand around his to lead him instead—better not to attract more attention than necessary, though part of you would have liked to drag him out like that and let everyone know that he was your little puppy.

You found Jean-Luc near the bar; the swarm of groupies and outlandish fashion made it easy to find him. “I’m so sorry, dear,” you began, pulling the older man’s attention to you. “But I’m afraid I’m feeling a little faint after that cigarette, so Austin and I are going to head home for the night.” You didn’t give him a chance to object or offer any remedies he might have up his sleeve. “Your designs are fantastic, mon ami, and I can’t wait to see what you have this fall.” He blushed and pulled you in for a kiss on either cheek in his typical farewell before you muttered a few more goodbyes and led Austin to the car.

You ushered him into the backseat, and he wordlessly followed your directions to buckle his seatbelt. A thick sexual tension settled into the back of the car as you gave the driver directions to your house, and you might have worried that the driver knew what you were up to had you not been busy running your nails through the curls at the base of Austin’s neck.

When the car pulled into the driveway, you unbuckled Austin’s seatbelt and directed his eyes to yours with two of your fingers on his jaw. You kept your voice low enough so that only he could hear you. “Get your ass in the house, baby. Go sit on the couch and wait for me there, okay?”

Austin pulled his lip between his teeth and you could have sworn that you heard a shudder in his breath. You smirked, taking a moment to admire the state he was in before you reached across him and pulled his door open. “I’ll take care of this and be up in just a second, okay?” you said at normal volume, but the edge in your voice wasn’t lost on him. Austin nodded once, sucked in another breath and clambered out of the car. You couldn’t help but watch his long legs carry him through the front door.

“Long night, huh?” the driver’s deep voice sounded so suddenly in the quiet private neighborhood that you nearly jumped. It made you let out a small laugh.

“Oh, you have no idea,” you muttered as you pulled your wallet out of your purse. “Thanks for the ride.” You handed him a $100 bill and quickly stepped out. The beams from the headlights softened as the car backed out of the driveway, and soon it was just you and the porch light on a warm summer evening.

Austin sat obediently on the couch like you’d asked—manspread and smirking, but obedient nonetheless—as he watched you saunter into the living room. A part of you couldn’t decide whether he was trying to show that he maintained dominance or if he just wanted to piss you off. You wordlessly made your way over to him, slowly drinking him in and letting your eyes roam every inch of his lanky body draped over the cushions. He’d taken off his suit jacket and laid it over the couch’s armrest. He did look rather handsome in what you’d picked for him. Dark blue always brought out his eyes, and the white button up perfectly complimented his tan skin.

“See something you like, babe?” The snarky comment left his lips as he leaned back and looped his arms over the back of the couch. You cocked an eyebrow, surprised at his audacity but didn’t answer his question.

“You’re awfully chipper for someone who’s deserving of a punishment,” you hummed, grabbing your dress and parting it from the slit at the top of your thigh so you could straddle him. It had been a risk forgoing a pair of panties with a high slit in your dress, but the gamble had paid off if the look in Austin’s eyes meant anything. You didn’t put any pressure on his lap, though. No, you would take your time with him.

“And what if that’s the very thing that has me so chipper?” Austin’s husky voice hit your ears and you sighed at the sound.

“Well then, darling,” you matched his tone, tugging lightly at the knot of his tie to bring him closer. Your whisper sent a chill down his spine. “I’d say you don’t know what you’re in for.”

He groaned at the sound as you lowered yourself down to his lap, allowing your naked body heat to tease him through his pants. He snaked his hands up your waist, eager to rid you of your golden dress and touch your soft skin.

“No.” You snatched his wrists and yanked them from your body. “No touching. Not ‘til I say so.” Austin’s blue eyes blinked up at you a couple of times. Oh, sweet boy didn’t really think he was going to be punished, did he? You kept your tone firm, but didn’t raise your voice as you spoke, “You’re being punished so you don’t do anything until I say so.”

“O-okay.” He stuttered out, and you released his wrists before wrapping your fingers behind his neck and redirecting his gaze up to yours by pressing his chin up with your thumb.

“That’s all I get? After you disrespected me and disobeyed me?” you questioned with feigned innocence and a pout. Your thumb gently swiped back and forth over the smooth skin on his flushed cheek before you went back to your stern voice. “It’ll be ‘yes, ma’am’ from here on out. Understood?”

Austin swallowed thickly. “Yes, ma’am.” He planted his hands firmly beside him on the couch cushions.

You smirked. “Hm. Good boy.” You turned your attention to his clothes, aching to run your hands down his toned chest. Nimble fingers moved to loosen his tie as you spoke again. “You remember the color system, baby?” It was rhetorical, but he nodded anyway. “Can you tell me what each of the colors mean?” His tie came undone and you pulled it from his shirt collar slowly to lay it over the back of the blue couch, reveling in the way his breathing quickened ever so slightly. His eyes never left your face even though your attention was on each of the buttons on his shirt.

“Yes, ma’am,” he sucked in a breath as you undid the top two buttons. “Green is all clear,” the next button came loose, “yellow is slow down,” Your nails grazed his chest as two more came undone. His breath hitched at the sensation, but he pushed through the last color. “And red means stop.” You finished undoing his shirt and ran your fingers down his chest and towards his toned stomach.

“Very good,” you purred. Gently, you eased the garment off of his body and discarded it to the floor haphazardly. Your eyes raked over his bare chest, the light dusting of chest hair between his pecs. Fuck, he was pretty.

Finally, you met his eyes again. Those familiar blues you loved so much had that little ring of green on the edges that only showed up when he was horny, blown wide with lust. You gently cupped his chin as you spoke seriously, the game taking a time-out so you could clearly express to your lover what you thought to be so important. “So you say ‘red’ at any point, and I’ll stop everything, okay?”

He nodded and sucked in a breath. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, sincerity in his eyes. He was ready for whatever you had for him.

That wicked smile returned to your face. “Good.”

Austin couldn’t suppress the thrill that shot down his spine. Oh, lord have mercy. He barely had time to perceive the handcuffs you’d pulled from your bag before you gently grabbed his left wrist. His eyebrows shot up at the sight—he hadn’t expected this, by any means. The gears clicked as you squeezed the single strand snuggly around his wrist. Your eyes flicked up to his, and he nodded, giving you the go ahead.

“Lean forward for me, baby.” He did as he was told, his eyeline meeting your decolletage as his face nearly collided with your plunging neckline. He gulped. Had he not promised to be a good boy and wait for permission, he’d press kisses all over you right now. Over your collarbones, down to the plush flesh at the top of your breasts, right down to—

“Do you know why you’re being punished, Austin?” Your voice interrupted his thoughts as you secured his hands behind his back. You hummed as the other handcuff clicked around his wrist slowly.

“Yes, ma’am.” he breathed out slowly, eyes glued to your neckline. Oh this really was a punishment.

“Go on.” You withdrew your hands from behind him and pushed his back to the couch. “Tell me all the naughty things you did to deserve this.” Your nails scraped down his shoulders to his chest, making him hiss at the delightful sensation. You leaned in close, pressing light kisses to his neck—the kind that just barely grazed his skin and drove him mad with the sensation of your hot breath fanning across his pulse point. Austin adjusted his arms behind his back a little so the cold metal of the handcuffs wasn’t pressing into his wrists too hard before he spoke.

“I-I touched myself before you came home,” he choked out when you ground your hips into his pelvis. Tilting his head back for more access, you slowly dragged your hot lips up his throat and across his jaw, hands traveling closer and closer to his hardening cock. You hummed.

“Mhm. You couldn’t wait for me, could you?” You grinned as you lightly took his chin between your teeth and shook your head in response to your own question. Then you got dangerously close to his lips. “Mm, you got off without me, so I’d say it’s only fair that you wait a little longer while I get off, yeah?” Austin wanted to choke out a defense that technically he never really got off because you’d interrupted his climax, but the words died on his lips when you let out a small moan with another roll of your hips. His eyes rolled back at the sensation and sound. “You’re going to make me come two times, and then if you’re good, I’ll think about letting you put your pitiful cock inside me. Does that sound okay, darling?”

“Oh, yes, ma’am,” he moaned, ready, willing, and able. Even with his hands behind his back, he knew he’d be able to pull a couple of orgasms out of you. Hell, maybe he’d make it three and overachieve—get a gold star and extra praise for his good deeds.

But just like that, you were off of the couch and strutting away. You seemed to be doing that a lot lately. It made him go mad with hunger and he had to suppress a whine at the loss of contact he’d been aching for.

You slowly turned and sank to the loveseat across from Austin, arching your back just enough to draw his attention to your chest. His brow furrowed.

“Uhh,” he stammered out, “how am I supposed to get you off from here?”

You tisked. “Oh, Aus, I never said anything about you getting me off right away.” You leaned back on the velvety cushion and slowly spread your legs, leaving everything on display for Austin—everything you knew he wanted but couldn’t have. His mouth watered at the sight. “Seems it’s only fair that I get myself off just like you, right?”

You didn’t break eye contact as your hand dipped to the pooling arousal between your legs. Suddenly, he realized exactly what kind of torture awaited him now: you were going to get yourself off first. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it but watch. A breathy satisfied moan left your mouth, “Oh, Aus.” You drew his name out in a long sigh, but the word left him empty since it wasn’t him that provided the pleasure (not that it made a difference to his quickly hardening cock). Austin shifted in his seat as you let out a gasp and gripped the back of the loveseat over your shoulder.

“Eyes on me, baby. Only me.” you taunted, screwing your eyes shut as you began a rhythm on your clit that tightened the coil in your abdomen. “Mm, this could have been you, Aus.” You pulled your lip between your teeth, attempting to make an extra show for him.

Truth be told, the performance wasn’t quite as pleasurable as you made it out to be as you normally liked Austin to be the one to get you off, but he’d been naughty and you deemed the performance a necessary punishment to get him irate or apologetic, whichever came first. After all, this was your game, so it seemed only fair that you make up the rules—even if they were unfair.

“This could be your hand touching me, but you couldn’t wait, could you?”

Austin had his eyes glued to your fingers moving through your wet arousal and over your clit, as he shifted again in his seat. “No, I couldn’t wait,” he choked out, the words leaving him hoarse.

“Such an impatient man.” The coil began to compress, and you picked up your pace to chase the release. “You’re so desperate for me aren’t you, baby?”

A whine edged into his voice, “Yes, ma’am. I need you so bad. Please.” He leaned forward to the edge of the couch, letting out a strained breath. A jolt of arousal bolted down your spine, but you chose not to respond to his plea and instead let out an obscene moan to tease him a little more. He continued, more of that delicious whine lining his words, “Oh, please, baby, can I make you come. Can I please touch you?”

The begging sent you over the edge and a lovely wave of white pleasure washed over you as you came, knuckles going white as you clutched the back of the couch. Toes curling, head thrown back in ecstasy, your quick breaths echoing off the walls; it might as well have been pulled straight from a porno, and it had Austin captivated and straining against his slacks. If you hadn’t been recovering from an orgasm, you might have taken a minute to soak in the power you held over him at the moment.

When the aftershocks finished wracking your body, you met Austin’s lustful gaze from across the room with a hooded one of your own. He licked his plush lips, eyes raking over your form as his chest heaved, his cheeks flushing a light pink in his excitement. You smirked, pleased with the effect you were having on him.

“You wanna taste me, sweetheart?” The question had barely left your mouth when Austin nodded feverishly. You crooned, “Awfully greedy, aren’t we?”

You retracted your hand from your pussy and swiftly crossed to Austin to straddle him again, pushing him harshly back into the couch. He offered no resistance to your fingers slipping between his lips, savoring your taste and running his tongue over your fingers. You smirked.

“I love how eager you are for me, Austin,” you purred, slithering your hand back to the base of his skull and tugging gently on a few of his curls. His eyes rolled back at the praise.

You straddled him again, pulling your fingers from his mouth and pressing a hot, sloppy, open mouthed kiss to his worry-worn lips. He kissed you hungrily, like kissing you was the only thing that would put air into his lungs. You were right: he was desperate for you.

“I love when you’re begging for it. Begging for me.” You gasped the words between kisses, rolling your hips into his. He hissed at the welcomed sensation. Your hands wandered down to his belt, pulling the buckle free.

“Touch me,” he gasped. “Please touch me, ma’am. Please.”

Your eyes flashed up to watch his pretty face express the pleasure you supplied as you palmed his cock. Slowly, agonizingly, you undid the button and zipper on his slacks. Your fingers dipped beneath the waistband and shimmied it down his hips just enough for his cock to spring free from his underwear. You couldn’t help but grin. It seemed every single part of Austin was pretty.

“Can you behave for me, Aus? Are you gonna listen to me this time? Gonna tell me when you’re about to come?” you cooed, dragging your hand up and down his dick in long languid strokes.

“Yes, ma’am. Yes, I promise. Please. Just—please,” he choked his whimpers down as best he could but you could tell he was losing that battle. You made a mental note to draw those whimpers out of him later.

You hummed as you slid off his lap and sank to your knees, eyeing his throbbing erection, the precum already oozing from his tip. Without wasting any more time, you took hold of him by the base and licked a long stripe along the underside of his cock. He let out a breath, one that let you know how much he’d been trying to hold back earlier. You suppressed a grin and leaned forward to kiss the angry red tip, pressing a few little kitten licks to the top. He squirmed at the sensation.

“P-please,” he whined, “no, teasin’.”

You pulled away. “You want me to stop?”

“No! Please, ma’am, I--” he started, but you didn’t want to hear it.

“Then you’ll take what I give you, and beg for more.”

He whimpered, actually whimpered, “Yes, ma’am.” A flash of hot arousal whipped down your spine and straight to your throbbing pussy. Fuck, that was hot.

“Good,” you hummed, before turning your attention back to his cock.

When you took his tip into your mouth, a shudder shook his chest as he moaned. You pumped your hand along him a few times, reveling in the way you could see his strong arms tugging and squirming to break free from his restraints, the way his eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy.

You pulled away for just a moment to tell him, “Love the way those pretty blue eyes roll back when I’m sucking you off, baby.” Your voice dripped over him like honey, smooth and salacious—all he wanted in that moment was the feeling of your tongue swirling around his head.

You bobbed your head, taking his long cock back as far as you could, pumping the rest of him with your hand.

“Y-yes, ‘slike that,” he moaned. “Kee-keep, goin’ like that.” His eyes screwed shut and with a gasp and a grunt, he cried out, “Oh! I’m gonna come, baby!” The pleasure had been building all day and it had gotten so intense. You bobbed your head a few more times, pulling him closer and closer to the peak. “Oh! I’m—”

You pulled back, letting his hard wet cock spring back to his stomach in a pitiful display of arousal and no relief. Those beautiful ceruleans blinked open, and for a moment you thought you could see a line of tears in his waterline. His chest rose and fell quickly with heated breaths as he spoke, “Why’d you—” he stopped for a moment to think as you crawled back onto his lap and wiped your mouth, “b-but I’ve been good for you, haven’t I?”

You pressed a searing kiss to his open mouth to shut him up, allowing his cock to barely graze your cunt. His breath hitched at it, and you pulled his head back by his hair to let him get a look at you.

“Please,” he begged, “can I please come?”

“Patience, darling. You’re doing so well, but you’re not there yet,” you teased, dragging the back of your index finger down his cheek. You tugged on his hair again, easing another whine out of him. It sent a thrill straight to your core.

“Color?” Your voice softened as you asked the question. You might have been in the driver’s seat tonight, but he had control of the situation.

“Green, baby. So green.” His answer came immediately.

“Good,” you cooed with a smirk. You stood again, only this time, you beckoned him to follow you to the other couch.

“On your knees, Aus,” you commanded, and the tall blond obeyed. “So good for me, aren’t you?” You sank back to the love seat, spreading your legs again for him. “Make me come, Austin.”

His eyes went wide, and a small smile graced his lips.

“Yes, ma’am,” he affirmed before diving in like it was his last meal on earth, letting you swing your legs over his shoulders and crush his head between your thighs. The man was a master with his tongue. He crudely licked a long stripe along your pussy before lapping gently at your clit.

He ate you out like it was his job, plunging his tongue into you and stimulating your clit with practiced perfection. Up and down, up and down, sucking here, nudging there, swirling and finally adding in a little nip that drove you wild. A string of praise fell from your mouth without you even realizing. “So good t’me. Oh Aus, yes like that! Keep going for me, baby!”

His tongue plunged inside you, and you let out a gasp, gripping the back of the couch again. He could tell you were getting closer, closer, closer, and maintained his pace on your clit as you let out another cry, “Yes! ‘M close! I-I—”

The words wouldn’t come, but he knew exactly what you meant. He drank the words down and let out a grown at the sound of your voice, your cries. Ultimately, that tipped the scales and you came all over his face with a cry.

He didn’t stop though; his tongue continued its magic as he helped you ride your orgasm out until the wave of white passed over you and you had to push him away with your hand. He didn’t back away fully and instead pressed more wet, heated kisses to the inside of your thighs, stealing glances up at you as you caught your breath. Finally, your eyes locked and he stopped with a slow and intimate kiss on your leg.

He grinned at you in the dimmed light, his chin glistening. The man wore your arousal like a damn badge of honor. It was filthy, positively filthy.

“Did I do good, momma?” he rasped, voice deep and gravelly. You might have just climaxed, but the nickname suddenly ignited a new kind of feral desire for him, and you felt yourself getting hot and bothered all over again. You took a few steadying breaths before you spoke.

“You did very good, baby boy. Oh, fuck, you did so good for momma.” You lunged forward to capture his lips with yours, not caring in the slightest that you tasted yourself on his tongue. Your lips moved together in practiced perfection, sliding, sucking—you even nipped at his lower lip and pulled a sigh from him.

“Can you sit on the couch for me, darlin’?” you asked between kisses.

“Yes, ma’am.” With a little helpful balance from you, he returned to his seat and it was clear that his erection needed some attention, so you straddled his lap again with a little more room for you to jerk him off.

“Doin’ so good for me, Aus,” you purred in his ear as you took his cock in your hand. He hummed at the contact and moaned as your hand pumped him at a slow and agonizing pace.

“Please, baby, please,” he begged and let your name fall from his lips. “C’mon, baby, make me come!” Your hand stuttered on his cock and you pulled away, making him pant and whine some more for relief. “Baby, I’ve been good!” His voice was desperate, but verging a little too close to demanding for your liking. He didn’t get to demand things like that tonight.

“You’re not playing by my rules, Aus,” you chastised flatly as you leaned away to retrieve his tie from the other side of the couch. “You don’t wanna call me what I told you to call me? Fine.” You rolled up his tie in your hands and watched his eyes widen. “You don’t get to say anything else either. Open.”

Reluctantly, he obeyed and you pressed the tie into his mouth as a gag. “You need to earn back your words, so make all those pretty little noises for me, yeah? I want you a moaning, whimpering mess by the time we’re done here.”

You grabbed his cock by the base again, maybe a little more sudden than you’d intended because he jumped and let out a muffled yelp. “C’mon, Aus. You can do it for me, darlin’.” You pumped his long shaft quickly, soaking in every little gasp or groan he’d give you. His muffled little whimpers made your cunt clench in anticipation, and arousal slipped between your legs. “Just like that, baby boy. Just like that.”

It only took a few more motions of your hand for him to be right on the edge. Tears spilled over his pretty lashes as he moaned into the tie. “Gonna come for me?” you asked. He nodded feverishly, ready to end the cycle of punishments you had for him, but you smirked before pulling away, pleased with having edged him to tears.

You took the wet gag from his mouth, a string of spittle following it as you placed it on the floor. Before he had the capacity to speak, you swiftly halted any communication with a heated kiss to his open mouth again, adoring the drooling sobbing mess that he’d become in the past couple of minutes.

Your fingers softly traced the angry veins in his cock without enough pressure to provide any relief, but enough contact to tease him and make his hips buck forward.

“Oh please, ma’am! Please let me come!” he whined again, another set of tears falling onto his cheeks. “Momma, please.”

You met his tearful gaze with a small smile and tilting your head to the side. “Didn’t you disobey me, though? You’re a greedy little boy who doesn’t know how to follow rules, and that kind of behavior deserves punishment,” you sighed as you peppered his face with light kisses—small rewards for all the noises he’d made.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I-I’m—momma, I’m sorry.”

You pulled your lip between your teeth again, looking him over and taking in the whimpering man underneath you. “You’re being awful good for me, baby boy. Get me off one more time and then we’ll talk about you coming. Can you be good for momma and get her off one more time?”

He seemed to sigh a breath of relief at that. “Y-yes, ma’am. Please, I’ll be g-good—I’ll make you feel so good.” Oh, that sounded like music to your ears.

“I’m going to take these off of you now, okay?” you grabbed the key from your purse. He eagerly leaned forward to allow more access to his wrists.

“So, I can touch you now?” he rasped, his hot breath fanning over your chest and making your breath hitch. Your eyes rolled back, suddenly eager for his lips on your body.

A light chuckle escaped your chest as you leaned closer and spoke, “Yes, you can touch me, Aus.”

Austin’s eyes closed in a silent prayer of thanks as he feverishly planted kisses along your neckline with small whispered promises of ecstasy and faint love proclamations. It all made the process of unlocking his right hand from the handcuffs a little hard to focus on, but the quiet click of the lock releasing came nonetheless.

As soon as the strand came loose from its gears and freed his wrist, Austin wrenched his arms forward, greedy hands roaming up your waist as he pulled your body closer to him. You gasped and clutched at the back of the couch and his head for the balance that he’d robbed with his lurch forward. The handcuffs still dangled from his left wrist, clinking together as he groped your body.

“Want me to get—“ you started offering to unlock the other handcuff, but he cut you off with a growl and more desperate kisses making their way up your neck.

“Just wanna feel you.” His low husky voice reverberated at your throat and you hummed in appreciation, dropping the key to the floor.

“You wanna feel me, baby?” You asked as his right hand took a fistful of your ass and his left slid up the side of your neck. You shivered at the cold metal of the handcuffs brushing up along your heated skin.

“Yes, ma’am I do,” he whispered.

“Go ahead, darlin’. Make me feel good like you always do.” And with that, he slipped the thin golden straps from your shoulders and pulled your dress down to reveal your breasts, nipples erect and ready to be worshiped by Austin. His left hand slipped down to massage one while he licked a stripe down to your nipple on the other side.

Oh, god. Your eyes closed on their own accord, focusing purely on the pleasure he supplied. His fingers moved from your ass to between your legs, dipping his middle and ring finger into your dripping pussy.

“Aus.” His name came out in a breathy mewl as he began a rhythmic circle on your sensitive clit with his thumb. Your breath hitched again when he curled his fingers and hit the spot just right that you couldn’t suppress a pornographic moan. “Oh, yes! Just like that!”

An orgasm lay right around the corner, and you were practically shaking as he continued. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m sorry for disobeying you before.” The words fell from his lips in a slur, his voice rough and wet from neediness. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, squelching, moans, and heavy breathing filling the air around the both of you.

“Right there! Right—ah!” you exclaimed as the ecstasy blinded you. He muttered more incoherent apologies into your chest between your breasts as he palmed your skin and breathed in your scent. You rode his fingers as the world slowly lost its rosy hue, your fingers tangling themselves into the golden tresses at the nape of his neck.

“Yes, oh yes,” you panted, holding his head close to you. Austin hid his face into your neck, nibbling gently on the exposed flesh near your collarbone and pulse point.

“Such a good boy for me, Aus,” you praised, catching your breath and steadying yourself before pulling his head back by his hair. The lighting allowed you to see his wet cheeks and swollen lips. His pretty blonde lashes seemed to sparkle. He really was an incredibly beautiful man. Sometimes, it was hard to believe he was yours.

You brushed a stray tear from his cheek. “Good boys get their rewards. You ready to come? Want to come inside me?” God, it was dirty.

“Yes, please. Please let me fuck you,” he choked out. Music to your fucking ears. You loved it when he talked like that.

“Give it to me, Austin.” Despite being messy and overstimulated, you’d be damned if you didn’t get to come on his cock tonight.

You leaned up on your knees and gently guided his cock to your dripping cunt, hissing when the tip of his head brushed against your clit. Fuck, you were sensitive. You didn't care though; you sank down onto him quickly and he hissed a curse. You gripped his shoulders as you gasped, nails biting into his skin.

“Fuck, you feel divine,” he moaned. He clutched you closer. You didn’t respond as you began grinding a slow pace up and down.

“Whose cock is this?” You asked between pants. Austin’s face creased in pleasure and he gasped when you clenched down on him.

“Yours, baby, it’s yours. I’m yours.” He spoke with awe and passion, and when his eyes opened again to meet yours he looked at you like you were the world. You crashed your lips to his desperately. “Take me,” he gasped between kisses, “use me,” his hand slipped to your neck to pull you impossibly closer, “love me,” another kiss before he pulled away to growl, “own me.”

“‘S’right, Aus. You’re mine,” you breathed out. When you dropped down again, he hit that wonderful little sweet spot inside you, pushing you to the edge. Oh god! You picked up the pace a little, eager to chase the nearing euphoria.

Grinding, heaving, moaning, you tapped your fingers to his lips. “Open your mouth, babe.” He did, and you did something you never thought you’d ever do: you gathered all the saliva in your mouth and spat it into his. He was yours, yours, yours. Without missing a beat, a smile played on his lips. He never broke eye contact as he did something he didn’t think he’d do.

He swallowed it.

It was like a bolt of lightning. You were so close, so close, you wanted to sprint to the finish line. And from the looks of it, he was too, growling clutching your closer as you rode him at a now impossible pace. “You wanna come, Aus?”

“Please, momma! Please!” He moaned, his glassy eyes screwing shut as his sensitive head hit your cervix. You tightened your grip on his strong shoulders at the feeling.

“Come for me, Austin. Come inside me. Come for momma.”

One, two, three thrusts and you were both seeing stars. A string of curse words fell from his lips as he pumped his hot come into your cunt. Your nails bit into his shoulders, no doubt leaving crescent shaped indents in his skin. You trembled in his arms, over sensitive and catching your breath, and he was transported to another dimension—his long awaited orgasm hit him like a ton of bricks and the aftershocks pulled him closer to your skin as you both came down, clutching each other.

You held his head to your chest, stroking his hair and whispering sweet nothings and praises as he rode out his orgasm, thrusting deeper into you. “That’s it, baby, let go. Did so so good. Love you so much, darlin’. So much.” His eyelashes fluttered against your neck and his breath and hips gradually slowed. He slowly kissed your collarbone before raising his head to look over your equally flushed face.

“Shit,” he puffed, that post-orgasm glow highlighting his lopsided smile, “that was…” He couldn’t find the words. Seems you’d fucked him stupid.

“Earth-shattering?” You finished for him with a smile. He chuckled.

“Yes, ma’am. Earth-shattering.” You couldn’t help but giggle at that.

You bit your lip and turned your gaze downward as you spoke. “So I—it wasn’t… too much?” Daring a glance up, you met his pretty blues again, slowly returning to their normal sea shade. You’d never really had the chance to let your dominant side out in the past, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d taken things too far with him.

“Too much?” Austin repeated with a laugh. “Baby, listen to me carefully when I say this: you could have stepped on me and I’d have thanked you.” He grinned at the melodic laugh you let out at that.

“You like it when momma’s in charge?”

Austin grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

For a moment it was just you and Austin. You in his lap, his delicious cock still inside you, stroking his face, his fingers running up and down your arm. This game had finally come to a close and you both dropped the personas you’d adapted for the fun and it really was just two people hopelessly obsessed with each other again. But one thing was sure: this had opened the door to an entirely new set of sexual experiences that you could have in the future.

After all, you still had those handcuffs that would need to be broken out every now and then, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they might feel like on your skin one day too.

***

And that’s the story of how Austin found out he enjoyed being a sub. The End.

#this is pure filth #he’s a switch who got in touch with his subby side #i love subby men #austin butler #austin butler elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis #elvis movie #elvis presley #austin elvis imagine #baz luhrmann elvis #elvis film #austin butler x reader #austin smut #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut #x reader #fanfic #fanfic smut #austin butler x you #sub!austin #austin butler imagine #now that no one is reading the tags anymore I wanna confess that this was far more impactful on me than I thought it’d be #and now I have a thing for men becoming whimpering messes #I’ve been agonizing over it for too long and finally said fuck it and posted it lol #and if you’re reading this take a sec to let me know how I can improve because I’m not 100% happy with this piece and want to get better #I’m rambling in the tags to procrastinate posting now aren’t I

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fastcardotmp3 · 24 days

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Wheelingham; S4 AU; Outsider POV (Max); Presumed character death (but not real character death); 1.9k Written for @strangerthingsfemslash week day 3: secret relationship read day 1: different first meeting read day 2: women over thirty

Max goes to Nancy first.

The lights flicker and the cops roll in and one of them is whispering about— The Cunningham girl? She’s probably dead by now.

So. Max goes to Nancy, partially because at first she thinks she’ll knock out two Wheelers with one stone before she remembers Mike is already on a plane to California, but also because it’s Nancy.

Because for the entirety of this past school year, Nancy has managed to bulldoze her way over all of Max’s carefully constructed walls and forced her to keep one of them in her life, at the very least.

She’s a force of nature, Nancy Wheeler, and the first time she showed up at Max’s trailer with dinner on a night her mom was working a double, that had been apparent, but not everything had been.

Not the reason Nancy was determined to insert herself in Max’s life; not the underlying despair that Max has learned chases that girl from one fight to the next.

Max goes to Nancy because Nancy knows what to do when the world ends, in more ways than one. Max goes to Nancy, because she doesn’t realize that saying—

“I overheard the cops talking, they think she might be dead.”

—she’ll be knocking loose the mask of resolve that Nancy puts on with her hair clips each morning, knocking it straight to the floor and stomping on it hard.

“They think…” She's small, but normally she takes up mountains of space in Max’s life. She’s got this presence to her which Max can barely admit to herself is grounding, but it is. She actually seems small in this moment though. Wound up and tiny. “And you’re sure— did they say Chrissy? Did they say Cunningham? I don’t… I just—”

“That’s what they said,” Max feels like she’s watching something she’s not supposed to, like when she still lived in California and her mom still cared about the ratings on the movies Max rented from the Blockbuster. “And usually I wouldn’t put too much stock in what the Hawkins PD has to say, but… The lights were… I know what lights like that mean.”

Nancy clenches down on her jaw and something in her eyes shifts and Max has spent a lot of time with this girl in the past six months.

Long enough to recognize that there’s a lot Nancy doesn’t talk about, even when she’s actively trying to be vulnerable to make Max feel better; long enough, too, to know that just because Nancy is a force of nature doesn’t mean she’s not also still barely eighteen years old.

Nancy swallows thickly and her fists clench and unclench around the fabric of her skirt until it's wrinkled and Max wants to ask, but before she gets the chance Nancy is steeling herself and sending Max to the car and telling her to radio Dustin to meet them at the Family Video.

Before Max has a chance to really get a gauge on what’s going on with Nancy at all (because something is going on) she’s being forced to walk through exactly what and who she saw last night four times over on the fifteen minute drive.

More than anything, Nancy’s haste reminds Max that they’re in it again. It reminds her that none of it was ever over and she was right, in a lot of ways if not all of them, to expect another shoe to drop.

The problem is that it’s a lot easier to focus on something going on with Nancy than it is to think about the nightmares that have been haunting her since long before she watched Billy die. He’s starred in her nightmares before, but this is different, this is new, this is so entirely old by now.

No, it’s easier to let the rest of them try to make sense of what’s going on while she watches the looks on Steve and Robin’s faces when they hear the name Chrissy Cunningham.

They look at Nancy on instinct, without a beat of hesitation. They look at Nancy.

“Chrissy…? Shit, Nance—”

“Don’t,” she snaps, pushing past Steve’s big and welling eyes that clearly know more than Max does to begin typing away at the computer behind the desk.

He doesn’t let her run from him though, visibly putting himself between Nancy and the rest of them as he speaks just under his breath enough that Max can’t hear him over Dustin’s own plan-making, but can see the way Nancy’s shoulders tense up and her fingers falter across the keys.

If Max were, say, Dustin, it would look like the kind of sign that the two of them were starting something up again, but Max has broken up and gotten back together with Lucas enough times to recognize that this isn’t that.

This is its own thing. This is Nancy on the verge of something else Max has been keenly aware of for too much of her young life: a nervous breakdown.

Nancy Wheeler is terrified, but not in the same way the rest of them are, not because the world might be ending again. Hers is a different sort of terror, only Max can’t place it. She might even be wrong about the whole thing, looking too hard for a distraction from the pulsing ache at the center of her skull, but there’s something about the slices of conversation she catches that tells her otherwise.

“... might not actually be…”

“... no way for you to know that, Steve…”

“... not the same as…”

“...don’t have time to… need to focus on this…”

But again, too much is happening with too quick a turnaround for Max to really dig in and find the answers to her queries.

“Eddie wouldn’t hurt someone,” Dustin is saying with the sort of forceful defensiveness of someone who is being put on trial himself rather than defending a friend. “He wouldn’t. Something else killed Chrissy—”

Max’s eyes train in on the shift in Nancy’s posture, the thick swallow she takes as she turns halfway away from all of them like protecting her soft bits from coming blows.

“ – or probably something,” Dustin insists. “Which means Eddie is in danger too if he was there.”

“Why would Chrissy have even been at Eddie’s trailer?” Robin asks, the question broad enough to seem as though it’s angled at all of them, but Max can see the way she looks at Nancy, the direction she means for it to land.

Nancy seems to feel it too.

“They’re friends,” she says without meeting anyone’s gaze, arms crossed and eyes downturned. “Ever since she broke up with Jason, it’s been— hard. At school. And Eddie’s just— he’s been a friend, so…”

“So maybe she’s with him,” Robin says, but it’s less like a suggestion of theory and more like the kind of thing meant to ease nerves, softer around the edges, almost imploring in nature.

Nancy’s grip around her own biceps is tight enough to make her skin go white, and by the time they have an address for Reefer Rick, any proximity that Max gets to her feels like the air is vibrating at a different, but not unfamiliar, frequency.

When Max stepped out of Starcourt on that night in July, the air had tasted like ash. When she had sat unblinking and trembling in the back of a parked ambulance, she hadn’t been able to feel Lucas’s hand in her own past the shake of the world around her.

“She’s your friend?” Max asks, a murmur of a question just for Nancy after having forced her way into the front seat of the station wagon for their trek across town, letting the other three keep themselves occupied in the back.

Nancy’s lips purse and what Max can only imagine is an involuntary hum chokes its way out of her throat.

“I was— I shouldn’t have been so blunt about it,” Max says. “About what I overheard the police saying. I should have said it differently, because we don’t even know if she’s really—”

“She is,” Nancy says stiffly, grip tight on the steering wheel as they turn down a path that leads to the lake. “That’s how these things work. She is.”

Max doesn’t have an argument for that.

In her experience it’s the truth, the only truth, that the worst case is the actual case.

It keeps her quiet in the passenger seat until they’re parking, all the way up to Rick’s front door, through Dustin’s incessant knocking, until she notices Nancy wandering towards the boathouse and hurries to follow behind her.

The door creaks when they open it, windows mucked up with algae and the general wear of time to the point where even the fading light of day doesn’t permeate the space. The floorboards groan under their feet and the lap of water against the bottom of the boat at the center of the room makes the whole thing eerie.

Eerie and nerve-wracking and bad, the whole thing has their collective adrenaline pumping right up until a number of things are happening at the same time.

The toss of a tarp, the guttural scream of a man, the pushing and shoving and trapping of Steve up against the wall as the rest of them merely try to keep up and act on their feet and prepare for an attack and—

“Nance?”

It’s quiet, but it cuts through the chaos.

It’s quiet, but it seems as though it has physical weight in its effect on Nancy.

“You’re—?” the sharp choking-off of a question, the near-buckling of knees, something starts to click into place as Nancy seems to move a woman-possessed across the boathouse until she’s got her hands hovering over Chrissy Cunningham’s shoulders, drifting down her arms, searching, searching, searching for— “are you hurt? You’re hurt? You’re— oh my god, are you real?”

Chrissy’s got what appears to be Eddie’s leather jacket tied up around one of her arms like a sling, the stain of dried blood smudged on her cheekbone just under her eyes, but she smiles as she places her available hand on Nancy’s cheek.

Wet and nervous, but a smile all the same.

And things are clicking into place, because Max has broken up with and gotten back together with Lucas quite a few times.

“Um, some stuff is— is happening and I don’t know how to explain—” Chrissy shakes her head, lifting her gaze to meet Eddie’s as he drops his attack stance from Steve, “but we’re okay. And you’re here now, so, so that’s—”

“They said you were dead,” Nancy blurts, chin wobbling and voice thick and cracking. “They said— I thought you were dead, I thought—”

It’s bold, when Chrissy cuts her off with a firm kiss to the mouth, right there in front of all of them in the middle of the dark.

It’s bold, but Max sees the fondness on the older kids’ faces, the clarity that they’ve known the whole time.

It’s bold, but pretty fucking cool, Max thinks. Proof, maybe, that it doesn’t always have to go the other way, that maybe sometimes their people can get through to the other side, scared and hurt but okay. Not lost. Not entirely. Close enough to be found.

“Wha– Wait, what the–?” Dustin balks, confusion radiating off of him as bright as the sun beside Max, almost blinding in its comical nature. “Did you know about this?” he looks to her, face all twisted up in not knowing something more than actually having a problem with it.

Max looks at him, looks at the gentle way Chrissy swipes away Nancy’s tears as they press their foreheads close and relish in the finding.

And then she looks back at Dustin and shrugs. “It was kind of obvious, dumbass.”

#dot fic #wheelingham #nancy wheeler #chrissy cunningham #max mayfield #femslash week #stranger things femslash #once upon a time i wrote a ficlet about nancy and chrissy meeting during s3 and this is a psuedo sequel to that In My Heart

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