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sleepyconfusedpotato · 2 months

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Catch My Breath

The first kiss.

Set in Christmas Eve 2022, after the events of Call of Duty Modern Warfare II.

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x Charlotte “Jade” Le Jardin (OC), Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Eleanor "Ladybug" Graham (OC) Characters : Simon "Ghost" Riley, Charlotte "Jade" Le Jardin (OC), Captain John Price, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Eleanor "Ladybug" Graham (OC), Alejandro Vargas Word Count : ~ 9600 Warning : Fluff with a slight bit of angst, a touch of hurt/comfort, and good ol’ cursings.

Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘Dont forget to come to cpt prices house today.’

You : ‘Of course not. I’m still at the orphanage for christmas gifts exchange. As soon as I'm done I'll be there :)’

Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘Good’

Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘Gaz is making some bangin biscuits and scones’

Jade smiled at her phone as she chatted with Soap. Her mouth already watering from imagining the taste of Gaz’s cooking on her tongue. According to Soap’s and Ladybug’s testimony, his chocolate biscuits were second to none.

You : ‘Wouldn't miss it even if I die.’

Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘Alright. See ya.’

She bit her lip. There's one more question she wanted to ask though. She contemplated asking Soap this or not.

Her thumbs moved across the screen slowly.

You : ‘Is Ghost coming?’

When Soap had invited her to the dinner five days prior, all Jade could think about was whether or not Ghost would be joining. Their one week together in Las Almas made her feel… something. Something really, really good. Something she hadn’t felt in what felt like an eternity. He earned a friend in Alejandro, Rudy, Soap, and Ghost, especially, whom she’d thought of as a real piece of work back in Verdansk. Oh, how foolish she was.

He was the best part about Las Almas.

Dammit. What was she thinking?!

By the end of Chicago, after they eliminated Hassan, Ghost and Jade had traded phone numbers. Jade had his numbers and named it “💀💢 Beanpole 💀💢”, after the nickname she gave to him before they knew each other’s name. They haven’t texted at all. Ghost wasn’t the kind to text first, that much was clear to everyone who knew him. And neither was Jade. In fact, she didn’t know what to text him first. A “hi”? A…

What else?

What do people text each other when they’re trying to get to know each other? She had no goddamn clue. Well, she knew what to text when she wanted to get intel from an unassuming target, but she didn’t want intel from Ghost.

She just wanted to know if he was okay, if he was fine, if the gash on his shoulder was healing well. Because of course, in her 29 years of life, a serious romance wasn’t a luxury that she could afford in her line of work in MI6. She took that lesson from her parents who literally had to ‘die’ first in order to even start. The point is, none of them texted first. They’re just another series of numbers in their contact list.

An animation of dots showed up, indicating that Soap was typing.

He’d typed for a few seconds before the animation stopped for a moment, and then started typing again. He must be changing his response.

Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘If there's food he should be there.’

Oh? ‘... should be there’. That meant Ghost was not with Soap at the moment, and he didn’t know whether or not Ghost would be coming along. A week in Las Almas was enough for Jade to know that Ghost had grown closer to Soap as a friend-brother figure. The fact that Soap might not know his whereabouts was not a surprise, though. He’s the Ghost after all.

But she couldn’t help but think, where was he?

What did Soap type?

“Chacha! Can you help me a bit here? We're about to start the event!”

Jade looked up from her phone, her ginger hair falling on her shoulders as she tucked her phone back in her pocket, swiftly walking over to one of her co-workers, Esther, an elderly soft-looking lady who volunteered for the orphanage - her former orphanage. This place held a lot of bittersweet memories, and it made her who she was.

Her legs brought her to one of the high ladders leaning onto one of the walls of the dining hall. She took many mistletoes from the decoration boxes and swiftly climbed the ladder, hanging the vegetation one by one with ease.

“Do we need this many mistletoes?” Jade asked while her hands worked. “At this point we’re gonna kiss someone by accident.”

“Of course not, what are you talkin’ about?!” Esther’s loud laugh almost broke Jade’s ears. “It’s Christmas, Chacha. The church had an overflow of mistletoes from the donations. If there's a day where we can add as many mistletoes as we can, it’s now. Let's call the kids over.”

“Alright. Let's start this shall we?”

—

The sound of Jade’s boots rang throughout the pavement as she hurried over to Price’s house. She travelled by public transportation from Surrey as she didn't have a car with her (plus she’s not much for driving safely - fake driving licence and… all that). She looked down at her watch to see 7 PM as the cold night finally settled. Each of her breaths turned to clouds in the air, shivering as she didn't have her outer jacket with her right now. She’s never one to be unprepared, but after one of the kids got too excited about getting a Lego toy and spilt a whole glass of apple juice onto her jacket, Jade had to fight through the cold with her trusty turtleneck and only one layer of thin knitted jacket as an outer, clutching the soaked coat close to her chest.

Finally, after what felt like an hour of walking, Jade reached the front of Price's house, immediately knocking on the wooden door three times. She looked up at the massive three-story building made out of bricks, that had a good space in the front yard. The building looked old like a family heirloom, but she could tell that it was pretty much taken care of. There’s a pair of trees that had shed all their leaves for the winter and had a decent amount of vegetation on either side of the doors.

Jade looked back at the front yard. There were three cars parked in front, and she assumed that one of them belonged to Price, the other two should belong to either Gaz’s, Soap’s, or Ghost’s.

The wooden door opened. She expected Price as the owner of the house to welcome her, instead, it was Eleanor, Gaz’s very own Ladybug who immediately screeched on top of her head. “JAAAADEEE!!! You’ve finally arrived!” The medic bursted out of the door hugging her figure so tight Jade might’ve folded. A beautiful burgundy sweater around a tan shirt wrapped her figure perfectly, and of course, with her wavy dirty blonde hair tied on the back with the ribbon Gaz gave her, worn out as it could be.

“Hey Lady! I miss you so much!!” The ginger greeted warmly all the while trying her best to stay balanced on her feet or else she’d fall five steps down to the ground on her back. As Lady pulled away, she gave room for Jade to step inside the warm house, taking a glance at Jade’s look.

“Whoa. You only wear two layers? You’re shivering!”

“Yeah. Apple juice all over my jacket, but don’t mind it.” She chuckled as she took off her jacket and coat to hang them on a standing coat hanger on the side of the door, “Have the others arrived?”

“You’re the last one. I came early with Kyle to bake the cookies and help Price with the food. Soap came second bringing sacks of snacks and drinks, and Ghost had just arrived before you, about 45 minutes ago.”

That caught Jade’s attention, her heart beat a little faster just at the mention of his name. “Just? Isn’t the Captain’s invitation at 5 PM?”

“Yeah. It looked like he was coming back from somewhere though.”

Somewhere?

Lady’s eyes half blinked, looking at her teasingly. “...Am I sensing something here?”

“What? No. No. It's just that he’s um… usually an on-time kind of man.” Jade tried her best to act indifferent, looking away from her to observe the doorway decorations.

“Oh really? I see, I see.” Ladybug nodded, “Because I might have heard some stuff from Kyle~”

Jade’s eyes opened wide at the statement, her mind already racing at the thought of what Gaz had said to his girlfriend. “What did he sa–”

“There’s me trusty Ginger!”

A voice which she could identify from a mile away as Soap’s, called to her. Donning the green military-issued sweater above his uniform, which he rolled to the elbow, he walked in both women’s directions with a chocolate biscuit in hand.

“Well hello there, Ocean Eyes.” Jade softly hugged Soap’s ever-bulky body while he patted her back several times. “How's your arm? Healing well?” She remembered how Soap got shot by Graves in Las Almas and how both of them, along with Ghost, had to survive the Shadow’s manhunt in the city. Even in Chicago he had to force through it.

“You’re one to talk. How's your side?” Soap pointed at her left side while munching through his biscuit.

“You got hit?! Where?!” Ladybug, who’d been in Urzikstan to help Farah and Alex for nearly a year after Barkov’s demise, hadn't been updated much about Las Almas. Looked like Gaz left that tiny little detail.

“She did get hit.”

“No! No no. I didn't get hit per se. We were… breaking into the Las Almas prison to free Alejandro and the Vaqueros - a little bullet missed my hip, but it did leave a teeny tiny graze.” Jade made a little gesture with her thumb and index fingers.

“It wasn't.” Soap retorted, which made Ladybug look even more concerned. “You almost fell from the prison walls during our escape and LT had to catch you and carry yo–”

“ANYWAY.” Jade tried to dismiss the conversation away from Ladybug’s growing unease. “It was quite literally us four against a thousand. So we had our own hits. It was a month ago, right? I literally walked my way here! See? Now. Where's the man of the house?”

“Thought you want to camp in that doorway.” Price's gravelly voice called from the living room, his head peaking out from one of the walls. “Come in and close that damned door will ya? The forecast said it’s going to rain snow unless you muppets want to shovel the snow.”

With Jade closing the door, they all walked together towards the interior of the house, where the warmth from the fireplace radiated throughout the room cozily. And holy shit. The word ‘family heirloom’ could perfectly describe the house. Some of the furniture looked like it was carved specifically for the house, soft carpets covered some parts of the wooden floor, and portraits of whom she assumed as the former Prices hung on the walls. The exterior of the house didn’t do the property justice at all. Soap had said that this was the Captain’s own house which he’d left mostly abandoned since he resided in Herefordshire. She wouldn’t lie, if Price turned out to be a secret old money she wouldn’t be surprised.

Jade’s eyes found Gaz at the kitchen island wearing the same exact outfit as Soap and Price, but with an apron around his waist while he pulled out another batch of chocolate cookies from the oven. Gaz noticed her presence when Ladybug approached him and pointed her way. “Oh, Jade! Come here and eat the salmon. You’re not allergic to fish aren’t you?” This sight of Gaz was pretty surprising for her. He seemed more cheerful and open around Ladybug, contrasting to his serious demeanour in the field. It was refreshing, to say the least.

Jade put down her bag on one of the sofas where Price sat on the edge of it, shuffling a deck of cards in his hands skilfully. “Nope, no allergies. Have all of you eaten yet? Sorry I’m late.”

“We have, and apparently my Ladybug over here is a vacuum cleaner of food.” Gaz was replied with an elbow to the rib by his partner.

Taking her own plate of baked salmon, Jade watched from just enough distance as Price, Gaz, Soap, and Ladybug played a game of poker on the desk. The atmosphere was tense from the rivalry but hearty at the same time, their laughs filled the room as Price caught Soap hiding a card on his sleeves, which resulted in a 50 push-up penalty for the Scot. Apart from the chaos, Jade couldn’t help but find herself trying to find that one particular big man.

The memories of sharing sleepless nights together on the rooftops of Fuerzas Especiales base rushed down her mind. Those moments made up the few moments of peace that they could muster up from the chaos of Las Almas. Just the both of them, the night sky, two cups of tea, and the lights from the city of souls. All those times they spent together completely with his mask on. Only when he decided to take off his mask in front of the 141 and Vaqueros did she ever see his face.

She’s good with faces. That’s an absolute requirement for her job. That image of his face was ingrained in her brain. How the black paints surrounded his surprisingly soft eyes, how the sun reflected his whiskey brown eyes and light eyelashes, the scars on his cheeks from wearing the mask, and his strong jaw.

Jade only wished she could enjoy the actual sight of it once more.

The former MI6 turned her head a number of times, making up blueprints of Price’s residency inside her mind. This house didn’t have a rooftop, and from the looks of it, all the bedrooms are located on the upper floors. Ghost likes looking out at the scenery, so he might’ve gone upstairs, broke into one of the many bedrooms and looked out on of the balconies as he sipped on a cup of tea. Considering how Ghost was, he’d break into his captain’s house without anyone knowing about it just fine.

All the while the others were playing, Jade finished her plate of grilled salmon and found her way towards the kitchen sink to wash the dishes. She came the latest, the least she could do was helping cleaning the kitchen area. That task came to a halt when her phone vibrated. She was confused at first, but when her eyes read ‘Col. Vargas 🤠’ on the screen, Jade immediately accepted the video call.

“Hola, Coronel! Como estas?”

“Hola, Compa! Muy bien, muy bien.” Alejandro's gravelly voice greeted her excitedly as his video showed on Jade’s screen. She could tell that the sun was still up in Mexico judging by the light on his face. He looks like he’s standing just outside his family’s house. Quite rare to see the colonel in other attire than his military ones, but as Jade saw his blue shirt tucked inside his blue jeans, she couldn’t help the snicker that came out of her mouth. She remembered that Alejandro had revealed to her privately that he had two beautiful daughters who lived in Mexico City with their maternal grandparents. “I’m in Mexico City with my family to celebrate Christmas. We’re about to head to church for the Christmas Eve sermon.” Alejandro continued in Spanish, but something caught his eye. “Wait, Jade. Where are you? Is that Soap?”

Jade lifted the phone above her head to help him see the place clearly, “Yes, that’s Soap, Captain Price, Gaz, and that’s Eleanor, Gaz’s girlfriend.” She said in his language. Her fingers pointed at each soldier as they slammed their cards on the table, chaos ensuing in the middle of them. “This is Captain Price's house in London. He invited us all for dinner, and now that it’s done, they’re playing poker, aggressively.”

Now it’s Alejandro’s turn to laugh. “I’m assuming they’re on their second bottle of whatever alcohol they’re consuming.”

“Yep. Looks like Captain Price is richer than he lets on. He has 4 bottles of wine from the 1800s! Can you believe it?!”

Jade and Alejandro continued their video call, sitting in her former position on the sofa. Despite Soap’s slight dislike that they were conversing in Spanish as he couldn’t understand what they were talking about, Jade kept on going. Jade learned that Rudy stayed in Las Almas to rebuild and restore the city after the Shadows wreaked havoc, encouraging Alejandro to leave the city and unite with his family.

“So. Onto the most important topic…” Alejandro’s voice sounded deeper and his eyebrows lifted. Jade had learned after a thrilling week working together that those were a sign that he was onto something cheeky. “Where’s the Ghost?”

Again, Jade’s heart beat faster at the mention of his name, and her stomach grew warmer. Damn it. “Um, I don’t know where he is. He is here somewhere in Price’s house, but… I haven’t seen him yet.”

“He’s there? Have you tried the rooftops?”

“This house doesn’t have a rooftop. It does have a lot of rooms with balconies, though. But I didn’t see any open window from the outside.” Her head started to look side to side, “ I don’t know if this house has a back or side entrance, he might be somewh– Alejandro!!” Jade stopped when she realized that Alejandro was laughing his belly off.

“You’re looking for him too, don’t you?” The colonel guffawed. “Aaah, You should’ve seen your face when you were explaining where he is to me.”

“That’s–”

“Look. I wished you luck with him back in Las Almas. It’s only natural that I asked for ‘updates’!”

“Keep fighting the good fight, hermano.” “To the bitter end, my brother.” Soap handshook the Mexican colonel and sergeant as they were about to leave Las Almas. He then turned around and tapped Ghost’s shoulders twice, heading towards the rear end of the aircraft to unite with Price and Gaz. The lieutenant though, stood still on the tarmac a few steps behind Jade. “Good luck amigos y amiga.” Jade hugged Rudy warmly, tapping her back a few times before holding out her hand to handshake Alejandro. Instead of a handshake, Jade saw a wide grin on Alejandro’s face and opened his arms wide, indicating that he was waiting for a hug as well. “Come here, Hermana!” Jade chuckled, expecting that a handshake wouldn’t be enough for the Mexican. She obliged by stepping forward and warped her arms around Alejandro’s figure. What Jade didn’t see though, was how Ghost’s body tensed slightly behind her. Alejandro sneakily observed the man’s movement, looking visibly uncomfortable. No matter how skilled Ghost was at appearing as still as he could, Alejandro could see that this skill of his just disappeared when he was in Jade’s presence. Before Alejandro let go, he lowered his voice and spoke to Jade’s ear. “Que te vaya bien con el fantasma.” ‘Good luck with the Ghost.’ Jade blushed profusely when she translated that sentence in her mind, stepping away from the hug to punch his shoulder lightly “ey!!” She looked over to his side, finding that Rodolfo was also grinning ear to ear. “I mean it, Jade.” Alejandro spoke in Spanish, tilting his head as a sign that he was serious. Jade’s head nodded in surrender a few times. As much as they wanted to converse more, her job wasn’t over yet. Her legs started to walk backwards, “Gracias, Alejandro, Rudy. Cuidate.” Alejandro observed as she turned around, finding Ghost’s waiting figure right in front of her. She then tapped his chest plate once, jogging her way towards Price, Gaz, and Soap on the aircraft. That sight made the colonel scoff, glancing at Rudy, who looked as amused as he was. Just as Ghost was about to turn around as well to join his teammates, Alejandro called to his name. “Ghost!” The lieutenant turned around. “No te pierdas carnal!” “A huevo!”

“The both of you have forced me and Rudy to watch a telenovela the entire time! Please tell me that you’ve at least done something together after Chicago.”

“We traded numbers…” She said nervously.

“And then? Did he text first?”

Jade grimaced, expecting that Alejandro wouldn’t react well to her next response. “We… haven’t texted at all.”

“NO MAMEEESSS!!” Ale facepalmed on the video call like he just watched the Mexican national football team fail to score a goal in a World Cup match. “Ghost… I swear… you need to do better.”

Jade stood up and walked over to the kitchen aisle yet again and put her phone on a leaning position on the wall, hoping that Alejandro’s shout of despair didn’t reach the other soldiers. “Well– what if he doesn’t want to continue this… whatever’s going on between us?” she grabbed a white mug and a cocoa mix, putting in 3 spoons of the choco powder inside. “You’ve seen how he is. I don’t want to hope too much.” Jade confessed to the colonel, pouring hot water on the mug and stirring the contents with a spoon until the sweet aroma hit her nose.

“Oh you don’t know that yet, right?” Ale replied, “Do you want to have a relationship with him?”

A relationship with Ghost?

That sounded crazy to say, but if she's being honest with herself, yes. Yes, she did.

“Yeah…” She started to walk towards the hallway on the side of the kitchen with the warm mug. The walkway looked narrow and led to the rear side of the house. She guessed that if this conversation was prolonged, they were going to need a place where Soap wasn’t shouting his lungs off. Her green eyes looked to the end of the room, where a wooden door similar to the front door was present in front of her. A back door perhaps?

“Okay. Now one of you needs to start. Ghost clearly isn’t starting because he’s a stupid, bad man. But maybe you can convince him that you’re worth his time.”

Worth his time? “How?”

“Start by finding him.”

The former MI6 walked towards the back door and glanced over the glass parts where the outer side of the house was visible. Just then, she registered a man with a large frame, sitting on the stairs of the back porch. He wore the same attire as the rest of the SAS members - their military uniform covered with a military-issued sweater, and layered further with a familiar black jacket that she’d seen before in Chicago. The man had a mask over his head, but she could see that it was currently lifted up as he took a sip of what she assumed was bourbon.

That’s definitely Ghost.

“Jade? What happened?” Alejandro asked curiously as she stopped speaking earlier.

“I found him.” She muttered.

Alejandro’s lips curved, slowly forming a smile.

“The floor is yours, Jade.”

—

*5 hours earlier*

Johnny : 'LT. You’re coming, right?'

Ghost looked down at his phone, staring at the message that Johnny had sent him, not planning to text anything back.

He hated Christmas. No, he didn’t hate decors, the bright lights, the red, green, and white that coloured the streets and buildings around him. No, he’s not petty like that. He’s indifferent to it.

What he hated was how the month of December always reminded him of the darkest part of his life.

He lowered his phone and tucked it inside his pocket, going back to the sight of his family’s gravestones right in front of him. His mother, brother, sister-in-law, and nephew.

Ghost remembered the blood; the foul stench hitting his nose as he stood frozen, witnessing the lifeless bodies of his family – all surrounded by the colourful lights of red, green, and blue from the Christmas tree that they were decorating. If only he realized sooner that his enemies wouldn’t settle with torturing him. If only he wasn’t so naive and thought that his battles were done as soon as he was home. How wrong he was.

How fucking wrong he was.

Ghost’s tears had dried out a long time ago. Every Christmas Eve he always visited their graves. He’d cry for the first three years, but now he’d settle with staring at the stones, not a word coming out of his mouth. Just him, alone with that memory.

His phone vibrated again. Johnny’s still messaging him about the dinner at Price’s house. Ghost closed his eyes in annoyance and sighed, taking his phone and turning it on to find a few messages.

Johnny : ‘Captain said not to disturb you during Christmas week’

Johnny : ‘Idk what you’re doing now’

Johnny : ‘but I hope you’re enjoying yourself’

Ghost moved his thumb on the keyboard screen, wanting to text Johnny that he was not coming and to stop messaging him.

Johnny : ‘Also’

Johnny : ‘Jade’s coming’

His thumb paused right above the send key.

Fuck.

Why did his heart beat faster suddenly? What was this warmth in his stomach? His memories of his family’s death disappeared, and suddenly all the moments with Jade came down rushing through his mind.

The moment when they met – where they shot at each other in Verdansk, leaving a permanent mark on his left ear – The sleepless nights in Las Almas, the meaningless conversations, their moments in battle together. How beautiful she was when she kept her calm during pressing and stressful situations, the grace in her movements…

Fuck.

Fucking hell.

Ghost had read Price’s invitation two weeks before in their group chat. He already made up his mind from the beginning that he wasn’t coming. He never really enjoyed parties or any form of gathering at all. That’s how he’d been living for three decades of his life. Why did that one mention of her name from Johnny instantly change his resolve just like that?

He didn’t reply to Johnny at all, only leaving the two blue check marks indicating that he’d read Johnny’s messages.

And that… was how Ghost ended up sitting on Price’s back porch. The crescent moon was high in the sky. Little bits of snow started to fall down alongside the windy weather. For the first time of the day, he had his skull-painted balaclava up to his nose in order to take a sip from his glass of bourbon.

When he had arrived at Price’s front yard with his sedan, Ghost saw the amused surprise in Price, Gaz, and Lady’s faces, but he also took a glimpse of Johnny’s smirk on his lips. The sergeant now knew the way to his heart, and it infuriated him. God damn him.

The sun was already long gone by that time, and he could see that the others were already in the midst of eating their dinner.

He’d sneakily taken a glance around Price’s luxurious house.

No Jade yet.

Ghost had conversed for a while with Price, took his own plate of baked salmon, poured himself a glass of bourbon, and excused himself to the back door. For an hour and a half, he sat right there, slowly sipping on his alcohol. Just as he thought that she wasn’t coming and that Johnny had lied to him, the wooden door behind his back opened.

He turned around and found the woman herself.

Jade.

Her ginger hair was braided like usual, but stopped on the back of her head, letting the long hair run freely down her back and shoulders. The deep red turtleneck which usually looked out of place in warm weather such as Las Almas currently fitted perfectly on her figure. A green pair of wide pants hung from her hip, letting the fabric run freely downwards instead of wrapping around her legs like the jeans he’s used to seeing her wearing during their mission together.

Ghost caught her green eyes, reflected by the moonlight, and he could easily tell that she wore some sort of makeup. What the name was he couldn’t bother to remember, but she looked… beautiful.

His heart was already beating pretty fast from the alcohol, but now it’s going even faster, and don’t even start about the butterflies that were flying rampant inside his stomach right now.

She only stared at him, her breaths turning to cloud along with the vapour from the cocoa mug she was holding. For a few seconds, they stayed like that, until Jade finally started.

“Why aren't you inside? It's cold.”

Can you miss someone’s voice? Apparently you can, judging by the unexplainable sense of relief that washed over him after he heard her voice. The last time he heard her voice was back in Chicago, a month ago. He then turned around again, facing Price's plain backyard to try hiding any signs from his exposed mouth that she might read. The former MI6 had this scary skill to read every body language of any person. Sure, he had a mask up to his nose, but he wouldn’t take any chances.

“I don't like parties.” He replied.

“It's cold.”

“Better than whatever's going inside. And I have my friend right here to keep me warm.” He slightly lifted the bourbon glass, shaking it slightly to make the content swirl.

Jade hummed. She observed his glass and noticed the alcohol. For all their nights in Las Almas, Ghost always drank tea, never alcohol. Of course, they were in active duty, so drinking liquor could cost them so much, but he'd said himself that he pretty rarely drinks, since Ghost had confessed that he liked being in control of what he did. She wondered why he was drinking, but she let it go. Instead, Jade stepped two stairs down, and sat beside Ghost’s left, drinking her own cup of hot chocolate.

“Why are you here?” Now it's Ghost’s turn to start.

She wondered how to answer that. If she's being honest, the answer would be ‘to be with you’, but she deleted that response in her mind.

“I… don't really like parties.”

“…You don't look the type.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What’s ‘my’ type?”

Ghost took another sip from the glass, “Likes being around people. Gets your energy from a communal space.”

The former MI6 scoffed. “Fooled you right there. Maybe it’s just me, but being around people automatically sets me in observation mode. Don’t get me wrong, I like people. It’s just tiring.”

“Hm.”

Another few seconds of silence, before she continued. “What about you? Why are you here?”

“Gets noisy inside, especially if Johnny's starting to lose his grip on reality.” Ghost immediately answered, almost like he expected Jade to ask him that. “He’s a screamer.”

“Hey how's your graze wound? It's healing well right?

Jade suddenly asked, which surprised Ghost. He glanced at Jade, finding the woman herself looking straight into his brown eyes. He should admit, her face so close to his caught him off-guard, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, creating a cloud in the air. Ghost then took a sip from his glass again before answering. “Yeah. I changed the dressing every once in a while. It's just a scab now. “ To be honest, he kind of forgot about the wound on his right shoulder. It was disgustingly painful during their time in Las Almas and Chicago considering how he must carry the chestplate and his gears on that shoulder. The memory of Jade tending to that wound of his at the safehouse came rushing down his brain.

“Okay, that's a relief then. Just make sure you don't scratch it or it'll open again.”

“I know the drill, Midget, I’m not a kid. This isn't my first rodeo. What about you?”

“Wh-what about me?”

“Your hip.”

The former MI6 sucked both of her lips between her teeth. “It’s fine.”

“Fine how?”

Jade now looked at Ghost’s brown eyes, intensely gazing at her own. He wasn’t taking ‘It’s fine’ as an answer. He was always an intense person. She suddenly remembered the feeling of being safe in his hands when he carried her towards the van, arms under her shoulder and knees when she couldn’t bear the pain in her hip any longer.

How Ghost had slept the whole night, in a sitting position on a chair beside her bed in the safehouse with his mask on, staying right by her side.

“Oi. Midget. I’m asking you.”

That snapped her out of her thoughts. “Huh? Yeah! It’s a bit itchy at times, but I can manage. It’s healing well.”

That answer seemed to finally satisfy him. “Hm.”

Jade went back to her hot chocolate, but Ghost didn’t leave her. He could see her shivering a little bit in the cold. The tip of her nose and ears had turned rosy.

“You cold?”

“Hm? No! No, not at all. Why?"

“You're shivering. And where's your jacket? A single layer of sweater won't help with this fucking weather.”

“Well– About that. I was at the orphanage for Christmas gift trading earlier before coming here. One of the kids got… too excited and spilt apple juice all over my jacket, so I had to take it off.” She admitted.

“What, you're gonna freeze yourself to death here? It's 1 degree out.”

“I don't want to be insiiiide.” Jade whined, almost childish. A sight Ghost would never admit he found cute.

“Your survival instincts are out of the damn window. I thought you were a seasoned MI6 black agent.” Somehow he found more ways to ridicule her.

The ginger scowled, pouting her lips before standing up “…Whatever, I'm going inside”

“Fuckin’ hell– stay. Stay here. Sit back down.” Ghost’s swift hand grabbed her forearm a bit too harshly, prompting her to balance her hand as a drop of her hot chocolate spilt out to the white snow below.

“Why? You want me to freeze to death?” Regardless, she sat back down, closer to his body now.

“You're the only company I've got that isn't annoying. So stay here.” Ghost unexpectedly moved his arms to take off his black jacket, revealing his green sweater underneath, and much to Jade’s surprise, his arms loomed over her and rested the dark clothing around her shoulders. Her bewilderment failed to hide itself when his hand patted her shoulder a couple of times to set it in place. “There. Better?”

Wow. It’s… warm. And most importantly, It’s his warmth.

One of her hands left the warm mug, softly tracing her fingers along the hem of the jacket to tuck it closer to her chest. “...Better.”

Shit. Ghost didn’t know the sight of Jade beneath his jacket would create more butterflies to fly like bees inside his stomach. In an attempt to suppress it, he sighed, leaning back and closed his eyes to take a deep breath.

…before he opened his eyes, finding a mistletoe hanging right above them, placed neatly. And purposefully. It’s like a damned grenade trap. “…Fuckin’ hell…”

“STOP SWEARING!!” Jade exclaimed, annoyed at his shortage of vocabulary. “You've said those words twice in the same mi– What are you looking at…?” Jade looked at Ghost, who was leaning back while his head hung backwards on his neck.

She looked up as well, finding the mistletoe that made him swear. “…oh, blimey.” There was not a single Christmas decoration on the back side of the house but this one. Price was a person who had a high attention to detail, but Christmas decoration was not one of them. Heck, he barely decorated the house at all. That thing was hung far too strategically.

Both Ghost and Jade were thinking of the same thing.

Soap.

Ghost sighed, “Just ignore it.”

“But it's bad luck though.” Jade thoughtlessly said.

“You don't really believe that, do you.”

“Well I don't! It's hanging vegetation. Still, I'm saying it could be true.” Her hands gestured at the mistletoe above her.

“What, you want a kiss?”

The woman gasped, almost offendedly. “HUH? KISS YOU??”

“Who else is underneath this fucking mistletoe?”

She joked, trying desperately to hide her panic at the thought of kissing him. “A ghost.”

“Fucking funny. Also what's with you? It's just one kiss.”

Jade stopped speaking. Her eyes widened as she pursed her lips. “Um…. I just don't…”

Confusion fell down Ghost’s half-masked expression, quickly reading her reaction, until he got to the conclusion. “...Don't fucking tell me you haven't had your first kiss yet.”

When he saw how Jade couldn’t respond anymore, Ghost pinched his forehead.“Bloody hell... Then why did you say you want it?!”

“I NEVER SAID I WANT IT??? I just said that the bad luck thingy could be true!”

“Well fuck us for five hundred years then!”

“DAMMIT– OKAY!! KISS ME!”

Those words perplexed him, not realizing that he was practically glaring at her that his eyes might come out of its socket. The ever-present black paint around his eyes didn’t help to ease the tension either. Jade herself didn’t know which thunder slapped her that she said those words. She wasn’t the kind of person to just spout things without thinking of the consequences first.

Ghost observed Jade’s face, trying to read her expression, to see whether or not she was joking or serious. Because in the deepest part of his heart, he’d hoped that she was joking. But even deeper, he hoped that she wasn’t. “…you don't mean that.”

Jade wondered if her mouth had disconnected from her brain. What she was saying came out literally the opposite of what her instincts were. “You heard me. You can kiss me. Just a peck though.” What was she thinking? This was NOT what she wanted to say. Or was it? “How many women have you kissed?” Aaand now she’s prying onto his past? Great job, Jade.

He used to be young, that’s for sure. Despite his father and brother mocking him and his mother for it, he used to go to school and met a few women during his learning days. Only two of them, though, and that was all before he got into military. He didn’t know what commitment was back in the day, and his ‘girlfriends’ didn’t know that either. “...a few.”

“Were they experienced?”

“Probably so.”

Okay, so he had some experience. That somehow made her feel easy. “Well… I have zero experience on the act. So… be gentle, okay?”

“…Fine.“ Ghost breathed as he put down his almost-empty glass on the stone staircase behind him, finding Jade doing the same.

The coldness of the wind prickled her skin, making her realize that this was not a dream. He’s about to kiss her, and it’s from a mistletoe. Out of nowhere, she remembered the overflow of mistletoe that the orphanage received earlier. Could that be a sign? Either way, she snapped back to her current state, where Ghost was visibly looking at her lips, and that sight made her heart drum twice the speed. At this point, she might explode. “Okay. So… what do I do? Do I tilt my head a little, or do I open my lips just a little bit? Should I lean in to kiss you too? Or like–”

“Just. Stay. Still.” Ghost shut her up before she could blabber more.

“Okay okay okay”.

Jade watched Ghost secure his mask up to his nose, revealing his mouth. When she glanced at his lips, Jade could see a tinge of red on his cheek, but she could dismiss that as a reaction to the cold or from the alcohol he was drinking. When he leaned in slowly, Jade could see him so close, the closest he's ever been to her. His eyelashes were longer than she's ever realised, fluttering against his skin, the little healed scars on his face–

Jade sucked her lips into her teeth, "WAIT WAIT WAIT." Making the man flinch and pull away in confusion.

"What?! Do you wanna do this or not?!" Ghost exclaimed.

"I do, I do! It's my first time! Just–”

“I said all you need to do is stay. Still.”

“I've never done this before, literally! I'm 29 and I've never kissed someone!”

Ghost fell silent as Jade hid her face on her palm.

“…I have never fallen for anyone before.” She confessed. “I wanted my first kiss to be with the one and only, and now… “ Her hands wildly gestured to the mistletoe above them, “someone happened to put a mistletoe right above us.”

Jade was a lot of things. A formidable fighter, a dependable ally, a brave operator who’d jump from a cliff with you, a spawn of the devil herself when she does her thing. However, at that moment, Ghost didn’t see any of those at all. All she saw was a vulnerable woman, curled up in a ball because she couldn’t fathom the concept of a single kiss.

After a few moments of him letting her collect her thoughts, Ghost muttered, “…Jade, if you're not ready, then we can just pretend that it doesn't exist. You don't have to.”

“You know what?” She tapped both of her knees with a considerable force, like she just made up her mind about something. “I gotta start somewhere right? Besides, when I finally kiss my man, I need to work on my kissing game.”

Ghost couldn’t help the scoff out his mouth. And… ‘her man’, huh? That could be a dream. “'Kissing game'?”

“Yes! Gotta…know what it feels like, at least?”

Ghost observed her expressions yet again. The woman in front of her was looking at him like she’s about to surrender her life to his hands. What, was he about to shoot an apple above her head? To him this was just a kiss after all.

Or was it?

Jade wasn’t his girlfriends during his younger days. She’s an extraordinary woman like no other.

“…Okay. Look. We're gonna do this slowly. I will do all the work while you can just stay there. Does that work with you?” Ghost started, looking at Jade in the eyes.

She put on the bravest face she could muster up and proceeded with a nod.

“Say it.” The deep timbre of his voice sent shivers down her spine, because of course, it wasn’t enough for him.

“Okay, Ghost.”

“Good. Close your eyes, Jade. Just calm down. Trust me.

As she closed her eyes, she breathed the cold winter air deeply before letting them out. Now that her vision was no more, her other senses had heightened. The sharp cold air stabbing her skin, the faint sounds of Alejandro's guitar playing from inside of the house, the smell of hot cocoa on her hands, the faint scent of something that could only come from Ghost's jacket wrapped around her shoulders.

For a good amount of time, she didn't feel anything other than her surroundings. Jade was expecting something on her lips. Anything from the man that was sitting right in front of her, but none came. She was about to open her eyes and call his name, until something touched her chin, lightly lifting her head to face upwards. And just then, Jade finally felt a soft, tender kiss on her forehead. His lips stayed there only for a second before they parted with her skin, yet it felt like she longed for it for more than eternity. No one has ever laid their lips on her skin before. No one.

What she was expecting was something on her lips, not her forehead, so when Jade was about to open her eyelids, again, he stopped her by putting his fingers on her left cheek, tenderly sliding them from her rosy cheek to the back of her ear, taking the stray strands of her red hair with them. The hands that killed, that murdered many so more could live, were gingerly touching her face with an unexpected amount of softness. She didn’t know his hands were capable of doing such delicate movements, and neither did he.

Before she could register what was happening, she felt him getting close again, and for the second time, her expectation betrayed her when Ghost kissed her cheek, just right under her eye. The kiss lasted longer than the one on her forehead, yet Jade couldn’t find any reason to complain. If anything, she wanted his lips to stay on her cheek longer than that. To feel him closer, to feel him more.

Ghost’s fingers moved on backwards from behind her ear, going through the wilds of her undone hair and finding its place on the back of her head. Heart racing, Jade was expecting another kiss that was not in the designated place. However, when his deep, raspy voice softly said to her, “I’m going to kiss you now.”, she found herself giddy with her eyes closed. Part of her wanted to open her eyes and see what was going on right in front of her, but the other part stood strong against it, not wanting to ruin the moment.

So when she felt him closing in, Jade gave all control over to him. She relaxed herself, letting Ghost gently pull her head closer to his, to at last, close the distance between their lips.

It was the softest, slowest kiss possible, filled with unsureness on her part, yet with a sense of certainty and confidence from him, and because of that, Jade let him do his part, leading the kiss to the point that it was enjoyable and… lovely.

The kiss lasted for only a mere 5 seconds at most, but it felt like hours. Ghost reluctantly pulled back and saw that Jade had already opened her green eyes. Her face was painted with shyness and shock, a pleasant one, as she saw that Ghost had removed his mask entirely, his face right in front of hers, his brown hair still a bit dishevelled from removing his balaclava.

Jade was a heavily trained warrior and an exceptionally skilled individual who stayed calm in times of distress and emergency on the battlefield, a force to be reckoned with, and could be an absolute menace when she wanted to be. Now, seeing the same woman like this – dazed, wide-eyed, a blushing mess, and taken aback by a simple kiss – The sight made him smile softly.

If only she'd known how long he'd wanted to do that to her.

Palm still resting on the side of her neck, he asked her, “How was that for a first time?”

Jade looked like a robot losing its ability to function. There were no words in her brain to respond to his question. Scratch that. It looked like she didn’t even register what his question was.

Seeing her so flabbergasted made him let out a deep chuckle. “Midget. I’m talking to you.”

That bastardized nickname snapped her out of her thoughts, making her blink rapidly, seemingly trying to sort her jumbled brain. Jade looked at the man who just claimed her first kiss right in his dark, brown eyes.

He’s still right in front of her, face looking at her delightfully with a sweet smile, not like the usual dark, ready-to-kill gaze. It’s almost like looking at a different person entirely.

“Uh… Umm–” Jade couldn’t form words.

Another chuckle, “You okay?”

"...this is a weird request, but" A pause, "Can you… do that again?"

Never in a thousand lifetimes, he would ever expect that answer from her. "...You want me to kiss you again?"

"Yeah. Can you do that?" She spoke with a low voice. "Please?"

His eyes opened wide at her request. Confused, but amazed at the same time. Did that request mean she liked it? Her expressions said that she did, though. Or did she just want to make sure? Nevertheless, Ghost decided to oblige and leaned in again to kiss her.

Jade closed her eyes again and felt his lips against hers for the second time that night. His kiss was as soft and as tender as the first time. This one, though, she decided to take in the feeling of his rough lips, the way he tilted his head to fit hers, the way his large hand lightly pulled her in and softly kissed her. All the sensations she felt from his actions became ecstasy.

Her hands lifted their way up to find Ghost's cheeks. Jade could swear she heard a small gasp from the man. Fingers gliding along the side of his face, she could feel his stubbles grazing her skin. It was such a surreal sensation, to think that this is the face of the man who got branded as a ghost, a myth, who wears the mask to hide who he is. Right now, she's having her palm on the skin of his face, and he allowed her to.

No one had touched the skin on his face in years. No one ever managed to get their hands on his face save for enemies who sought to kill him and punched his mask before meeting their demise with his knife. The only form of touch he remembered was of his father, who was all but loving.

With the tip of her thumb, Jade traced the scars on his face. Her warm hands instantly built a gentle fire on his skin. The feeling of such a tender touch was almost like meeting a stranger to him. But if it's a stranger, why did he find himself missing it so much? Why did he yearn for it so? Her touch ignited a warmth that he never knew he needed.

At that time, the woman he was kissing felt more like home than anything and anyone ever did. He felt like he could just melt right there and then. Here Ghost thought that he was the one kissing her, but now it was like she was the one casting some sort of magic spell on him.

Soon, their hands moved, Jade’s hands left his cheeks and found his wrist who was holding the back of her head. He almost forgot the feeling of someone’s hand on his own, but before he knew it, he felt her other hand grasping his sweater, right above his heart, crumpling the cloth. As they went on, he couldn’t just stay still anymore. Ghost’s other hand also found its way to her back, lightly pressing on her. He wanted her closer, he needed her close.

Ghost snapped himself out of his thoughts and pulled back, catching Jade off guard.

The both of them looked into each other's eyes as they caught their breaths, not noticing that they'd been kissing for the last minute. Faces extremely red from racing hearts and rushing blood, clouds of cold air escaping their mouth from the cold, for a moment they thought they knew this was just because of a single mistletoe, yet deep down, they knew this was something more.

Not hearing anything from one another, Ghost took his hand back from her neck and waist as Jade parted her hands from him to her lips with her hands.

The man spoke first, "You need more?"

"Yes– I mean– No! That was enough." Words stumbled their way out of her mouth. "Uh… So… that happened. I just had my first kiss."

Ghost couldn't help the smile, "I just stole your first kiss."

"No. You didn't steal it." She denied, "If anything, I'm glad you are my first kiss."

Hearing those words, Ghost could feel his heart racing again, the world suddenly felt warmer.

"I'm sorry you have to kiss me, though. You've always hated me." Jade continued with a laugh.

"Who says I hate you?"

That made her look at him, and what she saw was the most gentle face she'd ever seen him. Again, she didn't know he was capable of that expression. "If I hated you, I wouldn't ask you to stay, wouldn't I?"

That's a true statement. "You're right. So we're past the "stay away from me" phase now?"

"Our first meeting was in Verdansk. Situation was out of control and we were off to a bad start." He explained, "And we just kissed. We're way past that now."

Smiling, Jade pursed her lips before saying, "So… are we still friends?"

"Friends?" He glanced at her.

"Yep."

"Friends then." Confirmed Ghost.

"Who just kissed each other."

"Because someone hung a fucking mistletoe on the back porch." He retorted while gesturing to the decoration above them.

The woman laughed out loud before looking at the man, who was also having a chuckle of his own.

That's the first time she heard him – saw him – this happy. Had he always been this… handsome? She'd only looked at his face once before, which was when he revealed himself to the team in the Los Vaqueros safehouse in Las Almas, and then, never again.

But if this was what Jade could see beneath the mask – his happy face, the crows feet on the corners of his eyes, the corners of his lips turning upwards, and the fact that she just learned that he had shallow dimples when smiling – then she wished the mask could just disappear. Forever.

Because after this… he would put on that mask again.

This might be the last time she saw him without the mask.

When would she see him without it again?

Out of nowhere, some unexplainable force of will inside her made Jade lean in and left a peck on Ghost's cheek.

The SAS lieutenant instantly looked at the woman, flabbergasted.

Jade herself gasped loudly, covering her face in disbelief of her own action. She couldn't see it, but in his eyes, her face was as red as her hair.

Why did she do that? What made her do that?!

They swore it was the most deafening silence in their lives. Both of them stayed like that for a good 10 seconds, seemingly trying to make sense of what the fuck just happened.

"Oh my God… OH MY GOD. I’M SORRY. I’M SORRY!” Jade uttered in absolute panic.

Ghost stayed still in silence, his eyes wide open glaring at hers.

Oh shit. Shit shit shit. He’s mad. HE’S MAD.

“It– It's freezing! I'm going inside!" Jade scrambled to stand up, taking the cocoa mug with her and went to the doorway, before remembering that she still had Ghost's jacket on her shoulder.

"Ja- Lottie! Wait–" He was about to stand up to follow her, but his words got cut by his jacket flying straight to his face. When he removed the clothing, she'd already disappeared into the merry party inside.

Touching the part where Jade kissed him, Ghost slowly stared back at the falling snow in front of the porch. He hadn't worn his jacket yet, and somehow he didn't feel cold at all.

It's so hot.

It's too hot.

He buried his face in his palms, before running them through his brown hair. She didn't have to do that, didn't she? There was a mistletoe, they kissed because of it, and that was it, right?

Then what was that peck for? There wasn't any obligation involved that required her to kiss him again.

Ghost could feel his heart pumping blood faster than it ever did, faster than when he was on the battlefield, faster than when he ran laps every day. Butterflies were rushing deep inside his stomach, flying all around his insides like it just wanted to break out of his body.

He didn't know why, but if the kiss and her touch were a gentle fire that built slowly, that little peck felt like he just got struck by a damn thunder.

Violently.

And yet, he was so happy about that little peck - weirdly more so than the kiss - Too fucking happy.

Ghost grasped the sweater right above his heart before muttering to himself,

"Fuckin’ hell…"

Jade didn't melt his cold heart.

She set it on fire.

—

Price couldn’t believe the situation he was in.

His sergeants, Kyle and Soap, along with Ladybug, leaning on the back door of his house, looking at Ghost and Jade kissing at his back porch. Fucking spectacular.

“See, Gaz?! I told you–”

“SHUT UP Mate they’re gonna hear your loud arse.” Gaz nudged the drunken Scot’s rib to silence him.

Nevertheless, the plan worked. Gaz and Ladybug was the provider of the decorations since Price didn’t have any Christmas Decorations in this house in London. When Soap arrived with a mischievous look on his face and told the couple about “Operation Red Skull”, they were automatically IN on it.

And who would’ve fucking guessed? They made his house a home ground for matchmaking, and they succeeded. They weren’t his best subordinates for nothing after all.

Suddenly, Price heard a loud gasp from the three in front of him. His captain persona suddenly kicked in and stepped forward, shoving both of his sergeants to see the situation clearly.

There they saw Jade and Ghost, looking at each other, with Jade’s face looking like she was absolutely shocked.

“Oh my God… did she just sneak another kiss to him?!” Ladybug exclaimed with a whispering voice.

“FUCK! I didn’t have a clear visual.” Gaz followed.

“I think it was just a peck to his cheek??” Soap added.

“Everyone fall back!” Price commanded, and just like muscle memory, they all scrambled back to the living room, taking their respective deck of poker cards and sat around the messy table to pretend like they were still playing.

Soon after, Jade herself opened the back door with a face that none of them had ever seen before – a combination of shock and embarrassment.

“Jade? You okay?” Lady twisted her body to see Jade.

The former MI6 nodded uncontrollably like a shaking head doll. “Huh? Yeah. Yeah yeah, I’m okay.”

Gaz and Soap were covering their mouths with their deck of cards, unable to hide their smiles. It looked like they were about to break into a massive laughter any second now.

What broke it was Captain Price, who suddenly asked Jade,

“Really? What’s that black spot on your nose, then?”

---

YEEEHHEHEEHEHHHEHE. Sorry for the long wait! Thank you for reading! Hope y'all enjoyed it! (❁´◡`❁)

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <3

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blackopals-world · 11 months

Text

I've Found Home

Fem!Yuu and Twisted Cast

(Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8)

Implied relationship

She moved on. She had to and had every reason to. She had someone who relied on her.

Warnings:hurt-comfort, Angst to heal your soul. Healing those and abandonment issues. Happy ending I promise. Don't read if you are not ready to cry. Did not proof read, wrote this late a night, sick and half asleep. Sorry.

Move on.

Forget.

There was no going back.

You chose this.

You wanted this.

After three years of living in another world Yuu couldn't adjust easily to her old life.

A life that no longer exists. So she began building a new one.

She found a good price on a place near the mountains. Private but not isolated. She had the money after her book deal.

People would never believe her story so she wrote fantasy novels. She felt closer to her friends this way but more lonely all the same. She couldn't share the truth with anyone and could never talk about them as though they were real.

Still, she could write new stories with new characters to forget.

Life had been quiet. Eat, sleep, write, watch TV, read and do it all again. Sometimes getting food deliveries, read fan mail and get a call to two. It was decent life. Something Idia would love.

He's probably taken over STYX by now. I bet he and Ortho are doing great together.

Nevermind, she could probably cook something. Eating instant meals was probably ruining her health. Vil would kill her if he knew.

...

Food can wait. She wasn't that hungry anyways.

The garden! Yes! She had to tend the garden! She had ordered a spring bundle to plant.

The tag said it had some tulips, mums, begonias, and specialty white roses.

Nevermind... forget it. She should take a nap. A lazy day never hurt anyone. Even beasts can afford to sleep.

...

Yuu decided to leave. She couldn't take this anymore. If she got one more reminder she'd collapse. Their faces were ingrained in her mind and guilt burned under her skin.

Life was funny you know. You don't know what come next.

Yuu certainly didn't.

She hiked up the mountain trying to forget every time Jade would drag her to go foraging with him. Every late-night walk she had with Malleus. Every magic carpet ride with Kalim.

It wasn't fair! Why did she have to go through this? She wanted to see them again. What did she do to deserve this?

She was good! She was kind! She just wanted to go home! Is that so wrong? She worked hard! She made a name for herself! She should have the life she wanted and be able to enjoy that life.

But she missed them...

Unknowingly Yuu had dropped to her knees and crying. Only the forest could hear her and perhaps it took pity on her.

(Warning: If you are sensitive to child abuse or dead animals please don't read on.)

When her tears were gone and her cries faded there was a response.

A different cry. High pitched and gurgling. The kind that every woman knew in an odd instinctual way. The kind that sets off every alarm in your head and makes every hair stand on end. A baby.

She ran towards it praying to God that this wasn't a mountain lion. It wasn't though.

She found a small shack off the path. It was surrounded by trash. Must have been occupied by squatters. Said squatters seemed to have vacated at least a few days ago.

Yuu muscled open the makeshift door. The crying had turned into unfamiliar cracking breathless howls. Their voice must have given out a while ago after who knows how long. Hours, days...any longer would mean death.

Yuu searched and found a bunker of sorts under the floorboards.

She found a soggy bare mattress, a few scattered crayons, a ball and-oh God, that smell. It was a rotting cat. Poor thing must have been here for weeks. There was an empty cat food bowl nearby. Little drawings littered the floor. Ones of a smiling child with a smiling cat.

The whimpering cries continued and drew Yuu forward. She found them curled up in a corner. A rope was tied around their leg. It was a child. They were wrapped in soiled clothes, had matted hair, and emaciated.

Yuu felt her heart break again. This poor baby. Who could do this.

He looked at her with fear and hope. He wanted-no needed to be saved. He was probably no older than 3. He had no understanding of what was happening to him. His tears had marked his face as the only place was covered in a layer of dirt.

"Hey, is okay I'm here to help. I'm going to take you away now. Is that okay? We'll get you some food." Yuu tried to keep her voice even to not scare him.

The boy crawled over to the place of the dead cat. And began shaking it.

"Nina!Nina!" He wailed trying to wake her up.

He didn't know she was dead. He didn't even understand what death was.

"I'm sorry Nina can't come with us." Yuu said pulling him gently by the back of his ragged shirt.

But children don't understand these things.

"Nina! No! Nina!" He yelled horsey.

"Shh, it's okay. Don't worry I'll come back for her later. I promise." Yuu hushed.

She could bury her in the garden. He clearly loved her a lot and the poor kitty deserves that much.

After untying the rope Yuu lifted the boy into her arms and carried him home. He made almost no noise as he buried himself in her arms.

Yuu promised herself that she'd never let something like this happen to him again. He would never be abandoned again, he'd never go hungry again, and he'd be loved. She'd love him, she swore it.

"My son." She whispered to no one at all but I affirmed everything she felt.

He needed a name. The case worker didn't have one for him on file. She got to choose one.

For a writer she struggled to find one.

Mal, Elliot, Leo, Cecil, Bishop, Ali, Jacob, Carter, Azure, Jess

Only one name stuck

Grimm

"Grimm! It time for bed. Grab a book if you want me to read it to you." Yuu said walking up the stairs.

Grimm scanned his bookshelf for one of his favorites. The titles were: "The Rose Queen", "The King of Beasts", "The Wishing Star", "The sea witch", "The Sand Serpent", "The fairy Gala", "The Little Robot", "Magic Cat", "The beautiful Queen", and "The Underworld and back again"

Grimm had a favorite right now. The newest among the children's book collection Yuu had written. She pulled it off the shelf and ran back to bed.

Yuu could barely keep up these days. Grimm was fast but Yuu had practice.

She pulled the covers over him and read the title as Grimm snuggled up with his favorite stuffed animal. It was another merchandise stuffed animal. It was a big gray cat with a stripped bow and purple crystal around its neck.

Grimm named it Nina and took it everywhere. Along as it comforted him Yuu said nothing.

"The Lonely Dragon: Once upon a time there was a powerful dragon prince who lived in a land far far away." Yuu began.

"But the dragon isn't lonely forever. He meets the lost princess and they become best friends! Oh and the Silver knight comes in stop the dragon here!" Grimm interrupted leaning over his mother.

" Well if you want to tell the story." Yuu sighed.

When Yuu finished Grimm asked her something.

"So the dragon isn't lonely anymore?" He looked at her with wide eyes.

"No, he has many friends and rules over a nice kingdom," Yuu said in a hushed voice as shifted his pillow to make him lie down.

"What about the lost princess?"

"The lost princess found her way home. She said goodbye to her friends and is where she belongs now."

"But is she lonely? Without all her friends?"

"She used to be but now she has a home. She misses her friends but she's happy."

"I wish I could meet her. I'd be her friend and she'd never be lonely again."

"I know, I'd bet she'd be so happy. Goodnight, baby."Yuu turned off the light as she kissed Grimm's cheek

"Night Mama." Grimm said kissing his mother back.

When Yuu left the room she kept the door open just a bit so Grimm wouldn't be afraid of the dark.

She took a deep breath. Maybe she shouldn't have written the Lost Princess series but it was so well loved these days what could she do?

Still, she could relive those days for just a brief moment and smile.

She made her way to the study to go back to writing her new book when a knock came from downstairs.

Yuu cautiously made her way to the door and pressed an ear to it to listen to who it might be. Forgetting she had a peephole. A familiar voice called her name from the other side.

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strawbvrriluv · 4 months

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Yours Forever

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ: ᴊᴀᴄᴏʙ ᴇʟᴏʀᴅɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: ɪᴅᴋ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ɪɴ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴊᴀᴄᴏʙ ᴇʟᴏʀᴅɪ ʜᴀꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜɪɴᴋꜱ ʜᴇ’ꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪꜱ ᴇx ꜱᴛɪʟʟ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʟʏ, ᴀɴɢᴇʀ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ , ᴏʀᴀʟ ʀᴇᴠɪᴠɪɴɢ, ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ , ꜱᴇx

꧁༺ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ༻꧂

I scrolled through instagram waiting for jacob to get home from set as a post caught my attention.

Jacob_Updates

Jacob_Updates Jacob caught hanging out with Olivia Jade after months of not being seen together. It seems like they’re going strong as ever.

User1235: They’re so cute together

Jacobfans13: I hate her it should be me instead

I furrowed my brows looking at the photo, why was Jacob hanging out with his ex. Why didn’t he tell me about this. I could feel my heart starting to break, I heard our shared apartment door open as Jacob came into the house.

“Hey baby I’m home”

He called out his accent heavy as ever as he walked into the bedroom smiling at me. He put down his bag on the desk chair. He walked over and bent down kissing my forehead. I could smell his cologne on him, he sat down on the bed looking at me. He knew we way too well, he could tell something was upsetting me.

“What’s wrong love?”

His hand move to caress my cheek looking at me with furrowed brows still smiling a bit.

“Jacob why were you with Olivia.”

My voice was soft as Jacob’s smile fell. He paused just staring at me for a second. He then looked down at my phone, it was the photo’s paparazzi took of him and Olivia. He sighed moved away from me running his hands through his hair.

“Really? We were just hanging out as friends. Why are you so jealous of her Y/n.”

I scoffed shaking my head looking at my boyfriend as I stood up. Me jealous of his ex? How could he say this. After everything, of course he’d pick her over me.

I was tired of this.

Tired of him.

I was tired of being nobody to him in the spotlight while his ex got all of his attention.

I went into my closet grabbing a suitcase out as I threw it to the ground before going back throwing my clothes with hangers on it into the suitcase

I could feel his eyes on me as he started chuckling.

He was angry.

“Really? Are you fucking kidding me Y/n. You’re leaving. You’re fucking leaving? Just like that?! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jacob said yelling at me as I flipped him off not looking at him, my h/l h/c falling over my face as I bent down continuing.

“Go FUCK yourself Jacob. FUCKING GO. I FUCKING HATE YOU.”

I yelled as I heard him walk up to me as he pulled me to my up to face him. I was y/h and he was 6’5 so he was practically leaning over me. I looked at him with anger and disgust.

“You’re not leaving. Okay I’m sorry I should have told you. But we didn’t do anything-“

“You had your fucking arm around her Jacob. Don’t fucking lie to me.”

I pushed him away tears forming in my eyes. I would have never thought Jacob would cheat on me.

Yet then again, there was always that pit in my stomach whenever he left the house. He was always surrounded by people who wanted him, craved him.

Jacob looked at me before looking away.

He backed away and sat on the edge of the bed putting his face into his hands. I could see he was crying. His sobs escaping his lips.

Why was he fucking crying?

I walked up to him my legs seeming to move on their own as I moved in between his legs hugging him. I hated seeing him cry, and he knew that maybe he was doing it on purpose. Yet right now I didn’t matter. He wrapped his arms around my legs his face buried into my stomach.

“Y/n. I fucking love you. I love you so much. I would never. Never cheat on you. I swear. I did that to piss paparazzi off, I never meant to hurt you. I don’t love her. I love you. You take my every waking moment and even sleeping moments. There isn’t a second that goes by without me thinking about you. You’re my everything. I need you.”

He finally looked up at me tears coating his cheeks, I looked down at him. Even when I was pissed off at him I couldn’t help but feel my heart beat faster just from him looking at me.

He was so beautiful. So mesmerizing

“I just don’t know why you wouldn’t tell me Jacob. You had every chance too. Yet I had to find out on social media.”

He looked back down biting his lip softly as he sighed.

“I was scared.. If you found out we hung out to talk you’d freak out and- and leave me.. I wasn’t thinking straight… ”

His voice was soft, he was so gentle. I looked up to the ceiling not knowing what to believe.

I loved him..

I felt small wet kisses down my stomach. I hitched my breath as Jacob smiled against my lower stomach. I looked down at him my eyebrows furrowing.

“Jacob right now isn’t the time.”

I gripped his hair softly making him look up at me with his puppy brown eyes.

I could stare at them for hours.

“I want to make you feel good. I want to apologize in the way I know best. Please let me beautiful.”

I bit my lip looking down debating if I should. Apart of me wanted to but what if he really did cheat on me? I would be making a fool out of myself.. But then again.

I would always make a fool out of myself for him.

I nodded my head as Jacob sighed holding my hips, “I need a verbal yes baby”. I sallowed looking away my cheeks burning burning with blush.

“Yes.”

Just like that Jacob stood up turning us and pushed me down on the bed, his kissed my neck all the way down to the hem of my shorts. I looked at him as he pulled my shorts down.

“Oh fuck you’re wearing my favorite.”

He kissed the top of my underwear, I was wearing a lacy pink thong that had a small white bow at the top of the panties on the front side. He kissed my clothed center softly as I huffed.

“Needy are we?”

Jacob chuckled before moving the panties to the side and licking my folds. I leaned my head back into the mattress, he kissed my clit softly. I moved my hand down to grip on his hair as he hummed agaisnt me liking the feeling of it.

He sucked on me his tongue exploring the inside of me as I whined at the feeling. My body felt like it was on fire, I needed him so badly. Every fiber of my body craved for his touch.

“Jacob”

I moaned as he stopped and looked at me, his puppy brown eyes not dark filled with lust.

“That’s not my name and you know that.”

His glare could burn holes into you as I sighed, I didn’t want to play these games with him right now I needed him.

“Please I need you. I need you so badly please.”

I begged softly as he smirked entering one finger in me as I gasped my head falling back just from that. He curled his finger before adding another one. I moaned out profanity’s as he continued curling his fingers in and out of me at a higher speed.

“I need you inside me”

I managed to say over the pleasure as he stopped, he took my fingers out and licked them making eye contact with me.

“You taste so good beautiful”

With that he took his jeans and underwear off his member flew to his stomach hard, the tip was red with pre-cum leaking out of it already. I bit my lip wanting nothing more than him in me.

“You wanna use a-“

“No”

I said quickly, as he chuckled getting on the bed on top of me. He planted a quick kiss on my forehead as he opened my thighs more putting them over his shoulder as he entered me.

I gasped holding onto the bedsheets next to me, he was so big. He stretched me out just from the tip, Jacob moved until he was all inside of me and waited for me to get used to his size. I could tell he was struggling to not move, the way he bit his lip and the grip on my thighs.

“You can move”

As soon as I said those words he began moving back and forth. I moaned louder my voice muffled by his hand on my neck. I could feel myself unraveling under him, my thoughts fading away the only thing I could think about was him.

He started picking up the speed as he kissed my ankle, the hand that was on my neck flew down to my stomach as he pressed on it.

“Mmm I can feel myself fucking you so good.”

Jacob moaned as I gasped my breath getting heavier as I began to get closer to my high. His thumb moved down and began rubbing circles on my clit causing me to cry out in moans.

“I-Im so close”

I muttered as Jacob watched my face, he loved watching me become undone under him. He got off on seeing me finish because of him.

“Go ahead baby I’m right behind you”

I arched my back closing my eyes as I came under him, my body trembling under him as I cried out the pleasure becoming too much. Right after me he moaned out cursing his body trembling a bit too as I felt his hot liquids shot into me.

“Oh fuck princess you’re so good to me”

He said softly riding out his high, he bent down and kissed me as he pulled out. Jacob moved and looked at my cunt biting his lip.

“I love seeing you filled up with my cum baby”

He kissed my inner thigh before standing up and grabbing a towel to clean me up with. He cleaned me up as he laid besides me cuddling me.

“I love you Y/n L/n. Forever and ever.”

I smiled holding him closely as I fell asleep in his arms. Little did I know when I fell asleep Jacob did something that would change both of our lives.

jacobelordi

jacobelordi I love you forever. ❤️ @y/nusername

Comments Turned Off

#jacob elordi #fanfiction #jacob elordi x reader #saltburn

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soundprooft-visualz · 1 year

Text

Humans are Space Horrors: Stretching

Sarah was not a morning person, nor did any of the crew expect her to be. However the captain did expect her for mandatory physical training the fifth day of every Earth week, and this morning was no different. Sarah rubbed her eyes and took a sip from a can of poison she called an "energy drink". Loc'oa'mpar rolled Xeir six eyes. Xy didn't see how it could possibly energize her when it could kill Xir's planet's deadliest species in just a few drops, but when separated from the substance Sarah got grumpy. The captain jogged in, almost gracefully on his legs, already sweating from their morning run, jade green tank top soaked through.

"Alright, ladies gents and all things in between and beyond, who's ready for some PT?" Their enthusiasm was met with a groan from the group, who clearly were not ready for some PT at five in the morning.

"Bel, not that there's a sun to rise, but the sun isn't even up yet." Quanta piped up from the other side of the room, sitting on the floor with her back against the wall.

"Don't care, didn't ask, this isn't a democracy, lets do some fucking PTTTTTT." Sarah sighed and shook her head. The captain had too much energy this morning, as always. If they were going to start, she may as well start right. She set her hands on her hips and pushed as she arched her back, sighing contentedly at the series of satisfying pops that ran down the length of her spine. Standing back up a little bit breathless, rotating her torso to the side just in time to see the alien next to her go a pale grey and fall on the ground, causing her to stumble backwards in surprise. It pointed a tendril at her and it's eyes flashed, it's voice projecting into her head.

"You need a medic, I believe you just sustained a detrimental injury to your spinal cord." Sarah cocked her head to the side and set a hand on her chin, jerking it to one side and then the other in a motion that made even the Captain gag as it made a snapping motion that brought the room to a halt. The alien's eyes rolled back into it's sockets as their other alien crewmate slithered in, took a single look at the alien passed out on the ground, and flickered it's tongue at Sarah in annoyance.

"Do you feel the need to do this to every new crewmate we have? Your double joints in your neck are not funny. You could seriously hurt yourself."

"I haven't yet! Plus I stop any time I feel like it's straining."

"You're going to drive me to the depths of insanity."

(( inspired by @autistic-absol s prompt

#humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs

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jobean12-blog · 3 months

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In It for the Long Ride

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader (Biker!Joel AU)

Word Count: 1,656

Summary: Joel is out for the night and when he returns early and wants you to leave work and come home you know something isn't right.

Author's Note: Just because I love him and missed him and this seems like something that could really happen when you're with a biker. PS our sweet little black kitten Ink is here too- she's getting big and just loves Joel of course! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: soft and sweet fluff, little angst sprinkled in here and there, mentions of blood but very light

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

“Joel just text me that he’s here.”

You look at your friend Jade with worried eyes.

“What’s wrong? Isn’t he going to come in?” she asks.

“He said he can’t come in. He wants to know if I can leave now.”

“Of course you can babe,” Jade says quickly. “Dan and I will be fine tonight.”

“Are you sure…I don’t know what’s goin…”

“Don’t worry,” Jade assures you. “Just go to him. I’m sure everything is fine.”

You nod with a hard swallow and rush to the back to gather your things, texting Joel as you go that you’ll be right out.

Your legs are slightly shaky as you approach the door, a feeling of dread weighing you down with each step.

At first you don’t see him but then you hear the rev of his engine and your gaze is drawn to his bike. He’s parked across the street with his headlights off.

“Joel?” you question when you reach his bike.

He holds his arms out for you and you rush into them, burying your face in his neck.

“What’s going on?” you mumble into his skin.

“Let’s go home,” he says quietly.

You pull back to look at him and let out a gasp.

“Oh my god, what happened? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine darlin.’ Really I am. Just need a little help gettin’ cleaned up.”

Your eyes instantly well with tears and you lift your finger to gently brush it across his bruised cheek.

“Aw angel, no tears. I promise it’s nothin’.”

“But Joel…you’re bleeding and bruised…”

The tears roll down your cheeks, hot and wet, and his hands cup your face, thumbs sweeping across your skin to wipe them away.

“Are you ok to drive? Should we take the car? Do you need a doctor?”

Your questions come out in a rush and your voice is high pitched with worry.

He shakes his head no and the side of his mouth twitches with a smile.

“No. Just need you.”

You study him, your eyes lingering on his face until you whisper, “ok, let’s go home.”

He takes his helmet from the handlebars and secures it on your head before unzipping his leather jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“Let’s zip this up. It’s chilly tonight,” he says.

“Shouldn’t I be taking care of you?”

“You always do darlin’.”

He kisses you softly on the side of the mouth and then helps you onto the back of his bike.

The ride home is short, less than ten minutes, but in that time the wind picks up and sky opens up with rain.

As you near the house the headlights from his bike reflect off the growing puddles on the street and you shiver against his back.

He pulls over and kills the engine, holding out his hand for you to hop off. He tucks you protectively under his arm and walks you to the door.

“I hope you didn’t get too wet angel,” he says.

“I’m fine,” you say as you walk in and turn on the light.

You turn to him and fresh tears fill your eyes.

“Let me just get us towels and the first aid kit. Don’t move.”

You rush off to the bathroom just as Ink hops off the ledge of the front window. She meows at Joel and then starts to rub between his legs.

“Hey, you,” he says as he picks up the small black cat.

Her tiny pink nose delicately explores his chin before she reaches up with a paw and softly presses it to his cheek.

“Don’t be worried like your mama. I’m fine,” he tells the cat.

“She knows you’re hurt,” you say when you return and find the two of them standing by the door staring at each other.

You take his free hand and walk him toward the couch.

“You might have to set her down for a minute. I want to get your wet shirt off.”

He puts the cat down on the couch and then grabs the hem of his shirt.

“Wait,” you say quietly. “Let me. Please.”

He drops the material and looks at you with big brown eyes.

“Ok angel. Whatever you want.”

“Lift your arms,” you instruct him as you start to peel his shirt up and off.

Inch by inch his wet skin is revealed, his tattoos along with it and you find yourself inspecting every inch of him for more injuries before gently pressing the towel to his chest. You do nothing to hide your shameless perusal of him and he’s clearly enjoying it, his eyes sparkling and his lips turned up into a boyish smirk.

“Anything else hurt?”

“Nah, but you can keep checkin’ all ya want.”

He winks at you when you look up at him with narrowed eyes.

“Ok sit and tell me what happened.”

He sits with a plop and extends his arm to pet Ink while you start to work off his boots.

“I can do that angel, it’s no…”

When your eyes meet his he clamps his mouth shut, only opening it again to explain that some out of town biker gang had started some trouble with him and the boys. No of the boys were hurt more than some bumps, scrapes and bruises but the other guys weren’t as lucky.

“Thank goodness it wasn’t any worse,” you sigh. “I got so scared when you said you wanted me to come home and all. I figured you would come in and have a drink…”

“I know darlin.’ I’m sorry I scared you. I knew I couldn’t go in the bar lookin’ like this though.”

“It’s ok. Just promise me you’ll always be careful.”

“Always,” he whispers.

After you have his boots off and dry socks on you stand and straddle his lap, settling your knees on either side of his waist and taking a smaller towel to run through his hair.

You then comb your fingers through the wet strands and give it a slicked back style. He raises a brow when you smirk and drag your teeth over your bottom lip.

“What?” he asks.

“Looks really good.”

“Yeah angel? Even with the blood?”

“Somehow it makes it even hotter…but I’m still so upset you’re hurt.”

“I’m ok.”

“You keep saying that.”

“But I am darlin.’ Honestly, couldn’t be better at the moment.”

His hands slide along your thighs and then settle on your waist. He pulls you closer and runs his nose along the column of you neck to breathe you in.

“Don’t you dare,” you gasp. “I have to patch you up first.”

“Mm hm,” he murmurs as his lips press to your skin and his fingers dance higher.

You flatten your palms on his chest and give him a light shove, giggling when he looks at you with pouty lips.

After a soft kiss you get the first aid kit and start to clean the cut above his eye and the one on his lip. When you press the antiseptic to the wound he winces, leaving his eyes closed as you continue to carefully wipe each spot.

You inspect every area of his face, especially focusing on the skin beneath his beard, lovingly caressing the gray spots as you go. He relaxes into your touch and you let your fingers gently trace his features.

“All clean,” you whisper.

You hand him the small ice pack you got from the freezer. “Hold this on your cheek.”

“But my hands are busy,” he sighs.

His hands graze the skin beneath your shirt, calloused thumbs caressing the softness before they inch higher.

“You only need one hand for this,” you lightly chide.

His eyes pop open and he gives you a stern look. “Fine.”

You bat your lashes at him and wait until he has the ice pack pressed to his cheek.

“Just until I finish up.”

You put medicine on the cut above his eye and one butterfly stitch then clean up the dried blood on his knuckles.

“You must have gotten a pretty good punch in.”

You can see his muscles tense when you press the pad to his bruised knuckles.

“You bet I did angel,” he boasts. “And that’d be plural…punches.”

When you meet his eyes he winks again and throws you a smug grin.

You kiss it right off his lips then smudge some medicine on his knuckles. He immediately puts down the ice pack and places his hands back on your body.

“That could probably stay on a bit longer,” you tsk.

“Later,” he murmurs.

Ink walks along the back of the couch and sits herself down right behind Joel. She blinks at you several times then starts to swat at the curls of hair at the back of his neck.

“She likes them almost as much as I do,” you tease.

“She’s just wantin’ attention,” he grumbles. “Gets that from you too.”

You shoot him an incredulous glare and then give him one more once over.

“Think I did a pretty good job,” you state.

“I feel brand new,” he says as he drags you closer and smooths his hands along the curve of your back.

When your lips meet you’re mindful of his cut but he doesn’t seem to care at all and dances one hand higher until he grabs the back of your neck and kisses you harder.

He moans into your mouth and tugs at the hem of your shirt. Your hands delve into his damp hair and then slide down to his shoulders. His bare skin is warm and when you feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingers you ease away and battle with the reminder of what happened, your eyes glassy.

His large hand cradles your cheek and he smooths his nose along your jaw, bringing his lips to your ear.

“Darlin’,” he coos. “It’s all right. I’m fine…let me prove it to you.”

@hiddles-rose @lorilane33 @littleseasiren @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #biker!joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #biker!joel x reader #biker!joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x female reader #biker au

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scoonsalicious · 1 month

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Unwanted: Chapter 11, Unsure - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Mentions of sexual situations, pettiness.

Word Count: 3k

Previously On...: You've been pulling away from Bucky as he's been spending more time with Jade. But now, on the eve of her first mission, you realize that you want to fight for him and your relationship. Gino's is just the place.

A/N: So, I have this thing where, I'll write the angst, but then I'm like "no, I want you to be happy!" and then I'll write something like this, which is only just a band aid on their relationship for more angst to come. Sorry :( But, also, relationships and emotions aren't linear. We might know things aren't going well, but if we see even a hint of improvement, we latch onto it in the hope that it means things are getting better, even if it's just a temporary blip. We're optimistic beasts.

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @crist1216 @vicmc624 @sashaisready @j23r23 @wintercrows

About forty minutes later, you walked into Gino’s looking like sin on legs. You’d made up your mind that you were going to stake your claim on your boyfriend tonight, in front of Jade and the entire team, but especially Bucky, once and for all. You were a little dizzy from the emotional whiplash you’d been putting yourself through of late, but you’d realized he was worth the chance of being hurt, and you loved him too much to not fight tooth and nail for him, and you would do so, until he told you himself that he didn’t want you anymore.

You’d chosen a pair of skin tight black leather pants that sat low on your hips and a sheer golden top with a matching satin cami underneath it. You’d left your bra at home. A pair of high, strappy gold stiletto heels completed the look, and with your hair flowing loose and curly down your back, you caught the attention of every man within line of sight as you made your way to the back of the bar.

“Jesus Christ, Pocket,” Nat said once you reached the tables at the back that your team usually secured for themselves. The redhead pulled you in for a hug, whispering in your ear as she did so: “Barnes isn’t going to be able to control himself when he sees you.”

“That’s the idea, Natty,” you said with a grin, taking the shot she offered you and throwing it back. “I’m playing for keeps tonight.”

Your friend smiled at you and motioned toward the jukebox. “Then I say ‘batter up’ because opposing teams’ already taken the field.”

You glanced in the direction she’d indicated and narrowed your eyes. Jade was dancing with Bucky. Or, at least, she was trying to dance with him. It was almost comical, really, the way she tried to grind up against him, yet he kept trying to put space between their bodies as he shuffled awkwardly from side to side. Your heart softened as you watched him resist her. He was being polite about it– of course he was, he was Bucky, after all, but his resistance was firm.

“I better go save him,” you told Nat as you put down the shot glass. “I’ll see you later.” You sauntered over to the makeshift dance floor, putting some extra sway in your hips as you did so.

“Mind if I cut in?” you asked, your voice extra sultry. Not even waiting for a response, you positioned your body between Jade and Bucky’s, and were immediately rewarded with the feeling of his hands gripping your waist as he tugged you to him.

“God damn, doll,” Bucky said as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his, “how’d you expect me to behave myself all night when you’re standin’ there lookin’ good enough to fuckin’ eat?”

You grinned up at him, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I don’t expect you to behave at all, Sergeant,” you purred. “In fact, I’m quite hoping you won’t.”

Bucky’s eyes visibly darkened at your words, and he took his bottom lip seductively between his teeth. You were both leaning in for a kiss when you felt an impatient tap on your shoulder. You knew without turning who it was going to be.

With a roll of your eyes, you turned your head just enough to see Jade standing next to you, arms crossed over her chest, the anger on her face making her uglier than you’d ever seen her.

“Um, hello? Rude much? We were dancing.”

“Is that what that was?” you asked, turning so you had your back to Bucky’s front. You could feel the hard length of him pressed against your ass as you ground into him in time with the music. Taking his hands, you slid them under the fabric of your shirt so he could caress your bare skin. His rough fingers felt like heaven as they moved up and down the planes of your abdomen, dancing scandalously close to the underside of your breasts. You felt Bucky’s breath hitch when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra.

“If you’re that mad, why don’t you go live stream about it?” you said. “The adults are busy.”

“Bucky!” Jade whined, turning to him. “Are you going to just let her talk to me that way?!”

Your heart seemed to still, and it felt like time stopped while you waited on Bucky’s response, though in actuality, he answered her almost instantly: “You heard my girl, Vix. We’re busy.”

You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against him. His dismissal of her was like an aphrodisiac that sent wetness pooling into your panties. The sexiest thing you’d ever heard. With this new access to the exposed side of your neck, Bucky began to place wet, open mouthed kisses along your skin. God, you hoped he left marks. You wanted him to claim you, to let the world know you were his. You moaned his name as you reached your arm up to hold the side of his head, urging him to use more pressure and were rewarded almost immediately when you felt the sweet sting of his teeth as he nipped at the sensitive flesh of your skin, followed by the instant soothing sensation of his tongue against the love bites.

You heard Jade scoff, but didn’t open your eyes to see if she walked away or remained; you were too absorbed in the sensation of Bucky all around you for her to matter. You lost yourself in the feel of him, no concept of how much time went by as the two of you moved together to the beat of the music.

He eventually turned you around so you were facing each other once again. You tried to slide your hands up under the hem of his shirt, to feel the firmness of him, but gave an exaggerated pout when you were met with the resistance of it being tucked into the waistband of his jeans.

“You tryin’ to undress me right here, sweets?” he asked, giving you a playful grin.

“Don’t give me any ideas, Buckaroo,” you hummed, opting instead to grab two generous handfuls of his ass. You were going to sink your teeth into that later.

“You know,” he said, leaning in close to speak directly into your ear, “I’ve been thinking: now that Vix’s gonna be out on missions, my schedule’s gonna clear up a lot. Maybe we should take that trip we talked about. Spend some time alone, just the two of us, like we used to. I miss you.”

Your face fell. You’d love nothing more than to reconnect with Bucky, away from all outside influences, but with the upcoming presentation of the crisis algorithm system looming before you, the timing couldn’t be any worse. “I can’t, Buck,” you told him sadly.

He pulled back, away from you, a new, hard glint to his eye. “Can’t,” he asked, “or won’t?”

“Come on, Buck,” you pleaded, trying to put his arms back around you, but he refused, stepping further away, “we were having a great time; I don’t want to fight.”

“Were we having a great time, Pocket?” he asked, his teeth now clenched. “I may be old, but I’m not stupid. I know you’re pulling away from me.”

You sighed. It seems like you were going to have this out right here in the bar. “Come with me,” you said, taking his hand and leading him toward the bathrooms.

As you passed the rest of your team, an obviously inebriated Sam raised his beer glass and winked at you both. “Yeah, get it, Tin Man!” he shouted, completely misconstruing the purpose of your journey to the bathroom as Bucky flipped him off. “Didn’t realize you liked it that dirty, Baby Girl!” You rolled your eyes, ignoring him as you made your way to the men’s bathroom. Checking to make sure each stall and urinal was empty, you locked the door behind you.

Bucky raised a brow at your choice of gendered bathroom. “What?” you shrugged. “Figure dudes’ll be more than willing to have pissing contests in the alley if they can’t get in here.”

You could see him struggle to fight the smile that threatened to cross his otherwise annoyed features. You always did know how to make him laugh.

“I’m not going to have sex with you,” he said, sounding petulant.

“For once, that’s not why I dragged you into a bathroom,” you said, hoisting yourself up onto the sink counter once you’d checked it to make sure it was free from… well, whatever one might find in a men’s restroom. “I want to talk. Come here.” You beckoned him over with a crook of your finger, and like a fish on a hook, he crossed the room until he was standing in front of you.

You sighed. You didn’t want to do this now, but you were tired of lying to him, lying to yourself. You wanted your relationship back, and now was just as good a time as any to set things straight. “I wanna start by saying that the reason I can’t go away on vacation with you right now,” you said, making sure to emphasize the words, “is that I’m presenting to the Stark Industries Board of Directors in less than two weeks. I still have a lot to do to get ready.

Bucky tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “For your crisis prediction algorithm?” You nodded. Bucky’s eyes widened, impressed. “Doll, that’s amazing! But… I thought you said it was nowhere near being ready for demonstration?”

You swallowed. “We’ve been beta testing for awhile now,” you said, not meeting his eye. Normally, Bucky was obsessed with your work, keeping track of every fascinating detail, but with Jade monopolizing so much of his time recently, he’d stopped asking how things with your pet project were coming along. But you didn’t bring him here to make him feel bad.

“I haven’t been paying enough attention to you,” he said softly. He reached out and held your face, tilting your head up so you would look at him.

You shrugged your shoulders. “You’ve been busy,” you told him.

“I’ve been an ass,” he said. He took a deep sigh before coming closer, wrapping you to him. “I keep being an ass, and I keep hurting you, when I swore I never would.”

“I know you don’t mean to,” you reassured him. “But, you were right… I have been… pulling away.”

Bucky backed up to study you, his face gone white with worry. “Are you… Do you… Have I fucked this up completely? Do you not want me anymore?” If you had been standing, the desperation in his voice would have brought you to your knees.

“Baby, no!” you exclaimed, pulling his hand to your chest. “I did it because I was scared. I’m so scared I’m going to get my heart broken in all of this that I started putting my walls back up. I thought that, if I could act like your friendship with Jade didn’t bother me, didn’t drive me crazy with jealousy, then maybe I would eventually believe it. But all it ended up doing was push me away from you, and that’s not what I want. I want to fight for you. Fight for us.”

“Is that what this is, then?” he asked, indicating your outfit, hair, and makeup. “Is this some kind of offensive strategy in your battle against Vix where I’m, what– a prize?” He seemed… disgusted by the idea.

“No!” The word was out of your mouth before you even had a chance to think. “Not at all. I did all this because I wanted to look good for you. I know I’m never going to compete with her in terms of sexiness; I wouldn’t even try.”

“Huh,” said Bucky, running his hand through your hair. “And all this time I thought you were the smart one.” When you looked at him in confusion, he added: “Because that was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Doll, when it comes to sexy, she doesn’t hold a candle to you. No one does.”

“Pfft,” you scoffed, turning your face away from him in embarrassment as color stained your cheeks. “You have to say that because you’re my boyfriend.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky took a step closer to you, “I have to be your boyfriend because that’s how I feel. If this,” he took your hand in his and placed it over the hard bulge of his erection, “doesn’t prove that to you, I don’t know what will.”

You took a moment to palm him through his jeans, remembering back to a time when you relished the effect you had over him, not doubting it. “Are we good?” you whispered.

“We are very, very good,” he said, leaning down to kiss you. You gripped onto the front of his shirt, slipping your tongue into his mouth. When he moaned into your lips, you felt yourself clench around nothing.

“Bucky,” you gasped, coming back up for air.

“Yeah, doll?” His eyes were blown, expression delirious with his lust for you. It was intoxicating.

“You still opposed to bathroom sex?”

Bucky threw his head back and laughed, igniting even more desire within you. “I’m not, but I’d rather take you home, lay you out naked on our bed, all open and pretty for me. Let you be as loud as you want when I make you scream my name.”

Your entire body shivered at the picture his words painted, and you nodded stupidly. “Yeah,” you said, swallowing thickly , “yeah, that sounds way better. Let’s go do that.”

Bucky picked you up from the counter and gently placed you back on the floor. Putting his hand protectively on the small of your back, he led you to the door, unlocking it and walking you back into the bar.

When you made your way back to your group’s designated tables, you were surprised to find everyone staring at you in anticipation. Tony stood in the center of the group, a wide smile on his face as he raised his arms wide open, tumbler of alcohol in his hand. “Pocket, Barnes!” he cried when he saw you emerge from the hallway leading to the restrooms. “The people demand to know! ‘What the ‘F’ Was It’?”

You buried your face into Bucky’s side to hide your laughter. Once again, your sex life had become the topic of group conversation. When had this become your normal?

“I think the ‘fucks’ have it!” Tony declared after taking in your smudged lipstick and messy hair. You watched in mock horror as Nat and Sam gave each other a double high five.

“Why do we put up with this?” you muttered to Bucky.

“Stark’s superior insurance coverage?” he suggested with a grin. You smirked back up at him before turning back to your friends.

“Sorry to disappoint, again,” you said, raising your voice to be heard over the din of the bar. “We did neither fucking nor fighting, so…” You shrugged your shoulders.

“Don’t tell me I missed out by not going with frottage again,” Nat moaned dejectedly. You laughed as you shook your head.

“Very well,” said Thor. “It was not fornication, nor this frottage, nor fighting– sorry, little Fox Girl.” You raised an eyebrow as your gaze found Jade, who looked particularly put out, much to your amusement. “Let us guess!”

Your friends began shouting out answers, and they ranged from the vulgar (“‘Finger banging’!” “Oh my God, Tony! Gross!”) to the inappropriate (“‘Fertilization,’ you know, like puttin’ a baby in her!” “Clint, how’s he gonna do that without ‘fucking’?!”) to the perfectly tame (“‘Fraternization.’” “Boo, Rogers; you’re no fun!”) to, thankfully, nothing at all (“I hate this game.” “Nobody asked you, Rhodes!”).

“Frenchin’!” Bucky shouted after a moment with a snap of his fingers. Everyone turned and stared at him like he’d just grown a second head. “What?” he asked as a blush crept up his cheeks. “We talked, then we made out. Just took me a minute to think of ‘French kissin’, is all,” he finished in a mumble.

“And with that,” you said, walking over to the booth where Bucky had stashed his two motorcycle helmets, “we are going home. Make of that whatever the ‘F’ you will.” Tony positively cackled at that.

“That’s my girl!” he gasped, clutching his sides.

You didn’t even try to suppress your grin as you tossed one of the helmets to Bucky. Tucking the other one under your arm, you made your way over to him. “Ready to go, soldier?” you asked.

“With you?” he said, putting a hand around your waist and giving you a mischievous wink. “Always.”

Before you could even make it three steps toward the door, your path was blocked by Jade, who stood before you, chest heaving and fists clenched at her sides. “Hey,” she said, clearly upset, “what about me?!”

You took a step back, curious to see how Bucky was going to handle the situation.

He sighed heavily. “What about you, Vix?”

“You drove me here! How am I supposed to get home if you’re driving her?”

“Stark hired cars,” he told her, trying to steer you both around her, but the girl wouldn’t give up her ground. “Get a ride with everyone else.”

“But I wanna ride back with you,” she said, her voice a desperate whine that made you cringe internally. God, how had you been so jealous of someone who acted like such a child?

He just shrugged in her general direction as he finally guided you both around her. “Sorry, Vix; not this time.”

You couldn’t resist turning around to give her a parting smile as you walked out the door. When you turned around to follow Bucky, though, you could feel Jade’s stare boring a hole through your back.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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doppel-doodles · 3 months

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Hi, i really like your art and you writing, you are really good, so I wanted to know if you could Make some headcanons about Macaque ,Wukong ,Azure AND Shadowpeach with a Male or GN reader that Is súper soft with them and supports them when they are down, I was thinking about Wukong AND Macaque without The glamour things and insecure about their real apearence, and Azure with some scars after The Jade emperor Situation, Those boys need some love AND im sorry if I am overloading you with this request, Thanks

Heya! Firstly thanks a bunch for requesting and for the compliments! It's really sweet:> I was a bit confused in the request if you meant shadowpeach and the boys separately or just shadowpeach so I did the former just to be safe! Hope you enjoy!

Azure, Wukong and Macaque with a supportive reader

Azure lion

If we're going with Azure somehow surviving what happened to him in season 4 then I imagine he would probably gain large scars all over his body from the jade emperor's powers being too much for him to the point it was literally tearing him apart.

One goes over his eye and he has most likely lost some vision with that one, another cuts into his mane creating a slight bald spot. And the rest are scattered all across from his arms to his legs.

I don't think he would cover them up with glamour though, he would most likely keep them out as a reminder of what he did, a warning even.

Finally realizing that he wasn't the good guy and everything he did was in fact not good comes with a lot of emotions: guilt,shame even remorse.

But that's where you come in!

You don't know what Azure did or even who he was before you two met. With you he could have a fresh start, something he may have desperately needed after everything.

You would never try and pry about what happened to him to be so banged up either.

Not even when he wakes up in the middle of the night after a horrible nightmare, dreaming about how that day he was defeated could have turned out...

You just hold him,sooth him, tell him he's safe and that whatever he saw wasn't real.

And you'll continue to do so until he passes out in your arms, becoming a snoring mess once again.

You'll never know just how grateful he is to you for this, his appreciation just grows deeper every time.

He has debated over telling you who he used to be and what he had done, to be honest something inside him is deeply afraid that you'll hate him if he tells you even with you showing him nothing but care and support, and if you would he wouldn't fault you for it, not one bit.

He will tell you the story behind his scars one day, he just needs a little more time.

Sun Wukong

Okay, for Wukong I actually feel like it'll take him EXTREMELY long to drop the glamour around you. He really needs to be insanely comfortable with your presence and that alone takes time.

Him and being open with people just don't seem to mesh you feel me?

It also just stings his ego a bit. He is supposed to be the monkey king, the great sage equal to heaven for him you don't imagine that kind of guy getting hurt like ever right?

But if you are patient with him you'll eventually have him coming home, dropping his glamour and happily falling into your arms for a well deserved cuddle after a long day.

And once he showed them to you there really is no going back for him, the feeling of you kissing over his scarred skin? The way it fills him with that warm fuzziness? He wouldn't trade it for all the peaches in the world.

I imagine the circlet that was used on him actually left a scar that goes all around his head, so be sure to place lots of kisses on his forehead yes?

I've also played around with the idea that when the lady bone demon possessed Wukong it actually left a scar on his back were her power entered.

The skin ther is not just cool to the touch, it is ice cold.

This one is especially hard to look at for him but he can always feel it, no matter how many layers he wears that spot will always feel cool,dead even.

And death is something he does not like.

So when you hug him from behind or give him back rubs, your body heat breathing life back into his skin for a brief period of time it almost makes him regret hiding this from you for so long!

Macaque

Surprisingly with Macaque it's EVEN WORSE he has a major case of trust issues so don't think he'll dump to you even though he definitely should let it out-

Like you actually have the patience of a saint if you can put up with him for that long in his eyes, which is great! He loves that about you!

With your encouragement he'll actually become willing to show his eye scar in public...kinda.

What I mean is when he is in human form performing at his shadow theater it would be there but covered by his hood so nobody would actually be able to see it.

Listen we are taking baby steps here-

And you couldn't be prouder of these tiny steps! And you let him know that, oh how you let him know that.

He is low key kinda startled by it at first, in his mind you should probably feel a bit cheated by him doing it this way but you just aren't. It makes his heart flutter more than he likes to admit.

He also appreciates the little things you do for him when you learn of his six ears and exceptional hearing.

Without even noticing you'll talk in a quieter voice or just watch your tone in general or you just carry a pair of noise cancelling headphones around for him incase you two find yourself in an unbearably loud environment and for whatever reason can't leave.

He ADORES your thoughtfulness for him to be honest.

It's been a while since he experienced anything like it.

Shadowpeach

Here is a shocker I don't think it'll take them even half as long to drop the glamour in this situation.

Because those two have a history, they know mostly what the other truly looks like already so there isn't as much pressure to hide it from the other since they already know.

And it would kinda make them feel bad to leave you out of the loop at that point, you're part of this relationship too after all so if they can show their scars to each other then they should show them to you as well right?

Although seeing Macaques eye stirs up a mix of feelings in Wukong every time.

He caused it after all.

Also I like the idea of Macaque planning out this whole grandiose reveal to you, like the extra Theater kid he is he actually has a whole script written out and memorised down to the very last line, yes he tried forcing Wukong to do the same, no he did not do the same.

Then the day before Wukong strolls in with no glamour like "HERE I AM!" Like the jerk he is-

Macaque proceeded to have a friendly round of rough housing with him for that:D

Besides that I imagine it being like it was in their own headcanons just with these two occasionally fighting for your attention

#lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk x reader #lmk azure lion #azure lion x reader #lmk sun wukong #sun wukong x reader #lmk macaque #lmk macaque x reader #doppels valentine

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mommymccabe · 8 months

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Gotcha Baby

Pairing: Caitlin Foord x reader

Summary: Your girlfriend and sister prank you, you get them back.

Word count: 1200+

Warnings: suggestive themes at the end, kissing, swearing, ‘injury’, i think that’s it

_______________________________

A loud scream is heard by Steph and Mini who were standing in the hall way of the hotel. The scream originated from father down the hall, and was followed by laughing, a door slamming open and a hysterical Caitlin and Mackenzie bolting past two Matildas.

'Caitlin Jade Foord! Mackenzie Elizabeth Arnold!' You screamed out as you chased them out of your hotel room and down the hall.

'Uh oh' Steph whispers

'Get your asses back here. You're dead!'

'What the fuck happened??' Sam asked Steph, having been alerted by the chaos.

'No idea, but she's mad' Steph shot Sam a worried look.

Not even a minute later you walk back past them and back into your hotel room before slamming the door shut.

Sam, Steph and Mini walked down the hall in the direction you came from only to see Caitlin and Macca peaking out of Alannah and Macca's room.

'Is she gone?' Cait whispers

'Yes. Now what did you do to her?' Mini asks in an annoyed tone.

Mackenzie falls to the floor laughing again while Caitlin holds herself up on the door frame, laughing just as much.

'We had masks, and she had just woken up, and as she went to get out of bed, Macca jumped out from under the bed, and I jumped out of the cupboard! Oh my gosh mate it was funny as fuck, she flew!' Caitlin managed to wheeze out.

Sam can't help but laugh along with them as Steph and Mini do a better job of hiding their amusement.

'You two are awful. Poor girl was probably shitting herself' Sam says still laughing.

The thought making the two pranksters laugh even harder, Mackenzie now rolling on the ground trying to breath while Caitlin sinks to her knees with tears in her eyes.

'Ohhh she's gonna hate me' Caitlin whispers out before pulling herself together and helping Macca up.

'I think she already does' Mini days before cracking a smile and walking towards the common room, the rest following behind closely.

As you sit in your hotel room fuming, you start planning your revenge but put it on hold and decide to pretend like nothing happened, despite how mad you were at your girlfriend and sister.

You get dressed after a quick shower and head into the common room in search of your teammates.

As you walk through the doors, most heads turn to you and everyone greets you as you walk straight over to Kyra and Charlie, ignoring Caitlin and Mackenzie.

'We heard about your fun morning, you alright?' Kyra asked with a smirk.

You simply shot her a glare and rolled your eyes.

'They're assholes and I'm gonna get them back, wanna help?' you ask the two girls with a cheeky smile. They both quickly agree, loving a good prank.

'Okay so I was thinking....'

_______________________________

Later that night, after the team meeting and dinner, you all head off to your rooms. Right before leaving the dinning room, you tell Caitlin and Mckenzie you want to see them outside your's and Caitlin's room, before walking away. The pair weren't really scared, more glad you had actually spoke to them after a day of silent treatment.

So they waited a bit before following the direction you left in. As they rounded a corner on the journey back to the room, they came across a sobbing you on the floor clutching your ankle.

'Fuck baby what happened?' Caitlin asked as she rushed to your side.

'I tripped. Fuck man, my fucking ankle' you cry out and roll onto your back.

'Can you put pressure on it, do you want me to carry you to medical?' Your sister asks as she moves to your side, laying a hand on your shoulder and the other on your good leg.

'I can't move Macca it hurts so much.' you sob out and throw your arm across your face.

'Oh baby, i'm sorry but we need to move you, you need to be checked out.' Caitlin tries to convince you to let them help you move.

As they are both focussed on you and your potentially career threatening injury, they don't see or hear the two pairs of footsteps creeping up behind them.

You laying on the ground, can see Kyra and Charlie and have to move your arm across your mouth to cover the rising smile. You scrunch your face up dramatically as well, covering all bases before watching as the two masked youngsters, arrive directly behind the two victims before grabbing them by the shoulders and yelling. You watch as the two previously worried looking women scream and throw themselves across the floor, landing somewhere behind you.

‘Ha! You two just disappeared!’ You laugh as you roll on the floor.

You can hear Kyra and Char laughing their asses off and you turn to high five them both and laugh with them.

You roll onto your hands and knees and make eye contact with a confused and annoyed looking Caitlin and Macca.

‘You weren’t even hurt! Asshole! I was so worried puddin’ Caitlin mumbles out before rubbing her face with her hands.

‘You deserve it darling.’ you say with a cheeky smile before getting and and offering them both a hand up.

Mckenzie grabs your hand, allowing you to help her up before she shoves you away with a shake of her head and a small smile.

‘Don’t do that again mate’ she mumbles

‘Says you! I wake up to a demon waiting under my bed and in my cupboard, I thought I was dead!’ You reply

‘Yeah well we definitely won’t be doing that again if this is the result’ Cait says as she stands up and wraps an arm around you waist.

‘You do and your sleeping on the couch pretty girl’ You tell her before placing a gentle kiss on her lips before turning and walking away with Kyra and Charlie.

As soon as you are out of ear shot, Macca turns to Caitlin and says;

‘I actually thought she was gonna die. She’s a pretty good actor. But fuck did that scare the shit outta me’

‘She was so convincing! I thought she broke her ankle. Gotta admit it was a good plan. Kyra and Charls were so quiet too’ Caitlin responds with a laugh before following in your direction back towards the rooms.

After saying goodbye to Mackenzie and anyone else she could, she walks into your shared room and spots you laying in bed on your phone.

‘You, missy, are a very good actor’ she says before walking over to the end of the bed and crawling on top of you.

‘Why thank you darling, i’m glad you enjoyed my plan’ you smile up at her and wrap your arms around her lower back pulling her on top of you.

‘Hmm enjoy is not the word I would use’ she mumbles then leans down to kiss you passionately.

You moan into her mouth, her response being a roll of her hips into yours. You pull away to breath as she starts kissing down your neck. You wrap your arms around her waist before flipping her onto her back, you settled comfortably onto of her.

‘How bout I give you something to enjoy sweetheart’ you whisper against her lips before she smashes your lips together.

‘Fuck yes’ she mumbled between kisses, lost in the feeling of your lips and hands roaming her body.

You smirk against her neck and reply;

‘Only if your good for me though, right baby girl?’

You enjoy watching as your girlfriends eyes change as she fully relaxes, ready to please you in any way she can.

This will definitely be enjoyable, you think to yourself.

_______________________________________

an: been awhile, i apologise. gonna try and write more often. enjoy! might do a part 2 lemme know if u want one :)

#caitlin foord x reader #caitlin foord #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot

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rel124c41 · 26 days

Text

PSILOCYBIN AND HONEYCOMB. jade leech

There is something terribly wrong with the queen bee. Gentle and kind. Out of her mind. inspired by @merakiui dabbles and @pathosprit asks about god!floyd/cultist!reader

tags: alternative universe - cults, implied/referenced drug use, old gods, falling in love, blood and gore, beekeeping, fluff and smut, unhealthy relationships, thought projection, gentleness, inspired by psilocybin and honeycomb by harley poe, murder

word count: 11,895

When you are ten, round-faced and small, you watch the Reverend heat up the branding iron. He twirls it in the fire like it is a marshmallow, making sure the iron is covered evenly with a brilliant scarlet red. Gold dances over the thick, ebony gloves that the Reverend wears and shadows jump across the stone creases of his aged face. You watch the sigil rotate in numerous circles.

A foreign hand pulls up your dress, exposing your stomach and underwear. You keep watching the circle of iron and fire; as the speed of the Reverend's hands pick up, the two materials blend together in a racing whirlpool of a red and gold comet. Beautiful.

“It won’t hurt will it, Mom?” Your small voice is full of terror; your wrists tremble in the hold of the two adults pinning you down to the table.

“No sweetie, no it won’t.” Your mother, the unmarried woman who got pregnant, presses a kiss to your forehead.

When the Reverend presses the branding iron down on the skin on your hypogastric skin, right under your belly-button, it is the last time you know fear.

By the stream, God – The Odd One – calls and beckons and sings.

Hands fall idle in surprise. You were not expecting a summon from Him today. Raising your head from your task, you listen closely. It could have just been the snapping branch under a rabbit’s foot or the breeze blowing too roughful in a bush. You wait patiently for that divine melody to resume itself.

In the pregnant pause, a white dress rustles through the current of the stream. Its arms wave helpless. Under the water, the fabric mimics a dead gray hue.

There is no secondary call or beckoning. Holding your breath long enough, you fall back into your task.

White dress in hand, you scrub it with a mixture of mammal fat and lye. The cleansing agent bubbles and carries down the stream. If the heart of your God resides anywhere on land, it is here, your favorite place; in His heart, you do your laundry, domestic.

The Reverend would be appalled at that thought. You think with a smile. Water collapses from the dress as you wring it out. But it is an entirely true thought. The deeper you venture in the forest, the more you can hear Him. It is only when you reach for the robin egg blue dress does He come back, voice oscillating through nature.

A testing call? Dropping the garment, you listen intently, waiting to see where you can jump into the melody. After a beat, you find your place in the song. The construction of the deut sounds like this:

A stream sweeping in a downward incline, splashing in playful, petite waves as it tickles lower. It is bordered by plentiful grass. Like boats caught in a fierce storm, a handful of pine-cones freckled in the water move across the stream. Rocks break apart the smoothness of the water. The song emphasizes that the rocks give it a fresh uniqueness rather than damage the serenity of the stream.

The chorus is a bumble bee landing on a black dahlia. Silk, ebony petals curl off the center like a hundred thumbnails in a bouquet. In the light of nature, the black of the flower shines a red-violet. Nestled in the middle like an arrow in a bullseye, the bumble bee robs and rapes the center of the black dahlia, stabbing at the nectar with their needle-thin legs.

Carrying your voice higher, you sing about the breeze. The breeze puppets the leaves to give a graceful, continuous wave to the visitors of the forest. The bridge focuses on an earthworm. It is alone, red with speckles of earth. You take your voice past its limit when you find yourself singing about a forest fire. The ballad continues under two watchful, olive-brown eyes.

Unnoticed, the son of the village’s livestock handler watches you break your vocal limit for God. So devoted to him. Piety works itself over the tendons of your throat, pushing and pressing too hard, like a violin’s bow. As the unknown, dueting voice, Jade watches and listens to your consecrating voice, peeved.

Around you, Jade finds that his inhibition has been escaping.

He has been alive for numerous generations, witnessing patterns of human speech, human practices, and most importantly human fears. Fear is older than Jade. Older than the sediment on the ground that you sing to. Thus, innate fears often stay with generations – the fear of death, thanatophobia, is a prominent recurrence.

As the God of nature, Jade knew. He had felt men press their heads into the crust of the earth, begging for the other men chasing him to let him live. Felt people rack up dirt with fingers, feverishly pleading for the resurrection of a sick son or sick daughter. Felt fists pound the trees in frustration for the souls he collected and ate.

Even still, they worshiped him. Thinking they would be allowed into a paradise, ignorant that the old door death opened was a door made of teeth and tongues. Even with the false promise of paradise, thanatophobia reigned supreme and trumped all other fears in humans. In all humans except you.

You. How strange you are, altering the rules of humanity, since your tenth birthday.

You focus on nature; he focuses on you.

As you two sing together, he feels that familiar retreat of inhibition. All of it dissolves into the color and shape of nature like a technicolor sea, blending together. Everything he thought he knew about humans changes with a tiny paint splosh, ruining the masterpiece he made.

“Oh, look at you. All alone,” a voice breaks the song.

Rounding around, you glare at the intruder as God falls silent. You look at Jade as if you two were hunters and he had just scared off a deer you had been tracking. God galloping away off on hooves. Vexation like a gleam in your eyes.

“What do you want, Jade?”

Jade Leech is perhaps the most annoying villager in your town, sticking to you like his surname suggests. He had shown up with his mother and father about three years ago when you were twelve. Usually, outsiders did not join the congregation, but the Reverend spoke positively of them. You trusted your Father’s judgment until the boy proved to hold great interest in you and all the things you did.

“I was just checking up on my dear friend, (Name).”

He is not even respectable about your status. The village calls you ‘One’ for Chosen One. At ten years old, you lose your name like one loses a sock. Not Jade; he likes to call you by the name your mother picked.

“How kind of you,” sarcasm drips from your throat, sore with singing.

“You’re most welcome. You’ve taken to changing the spot where you wash your clothes.”

“Yes, I was hoping someone wouldn’t find me here.”

“It is very nicely secluded so I am sure that they won’t be able to locate it.”

I thought so too, your inner thoughts mourn.

“Though it might be a bit dangerous. So far off from the ocean and village. Why, who knows what kind of coyotes or animals could be wandering around in the thicket.”

“I assure you, I’m quite alright in the wilderness.”

It is a true statement. You were particularly blessed when it came down to manners of the environment and the animals which it housed. Call it divine intervention, call it confidence. Whatever it is named, you are spared a lot of trouble that could potentially come from inhuman footprints.

“Who knows? That unwanted company might seize the opportunity and attack.” Jade’s olive-brown eyes watch your back. Your shoulders move with the pattern of your scrubbing. Sweat latches tight to the curvatures of your visible skin. “Like right now, going for your jugular.”

“Try it, Jade,” you challenge, smiling – not in a friendly way.

Accepting the challenge, Jade stands back and watches your shoulder fall still. The smile on his face is not shark-toothed but it beams with the animosity of such a creature. You have other teeth to worry over. Fangs full of venom, a water snake has wrapped itself around your arm, sneaking up from its hiding spot under the dress and soap.

A copperhead snake twines itself up your forearm like an orange-brown vine. Immediate, your hand falls comatose, not waiting to disturb it. Here. Here is where the human pattern of thanatophobia should come into play. Jade waits eagerly for a shriek; copperheads are venomous, he is certain you know this.

You do not tremble with your actions. You do not tremble with your voice. Irking Jade further, you reach a finger from your opposing arm over the copperhead’s head. The snake does not acknowledge your stroke, continuing to squeeze, as you move down and grasp the tail.

“Jade.”

“Hm?”

“You should step back. This is dangerous.”

A fire of anger ignities on Jade’s shoulders. Cheek twitching, he glares at the back of you. You were concerned for his safety? There is a venomous snake acting friendly with the veins in your arm, yet you told him to stand back. So caught up in disbelief, he misses you successfully unwrapping the copperhead from yourself.

Which you proceed to throw in a bush, just a foot or two away from Jade is standing. “Bravo,” Jade says, unflinching. He stalks towards you.

“Told you to move.” You pull your clean dress out of the water, wringing it out.

“I do not see how you can be so composed in the grip of death. It is perplexing.”

“Death is always at our sides.” In the water, Jade’s shadow oscillates like a match’s sparkling flame. A quarter of it folds over your shoulder. “Why would I have any reason to be afraid of it?”

“You are the sacrifice of this village.” Jade puts a hand to his heart, leering expression painting itself on his face. Waits patiently for you to get frustrated with him. “I think it is natural that you would think about it more often.”

You look up at Jade, trying to decipher why the thought causes him qualms. Into your wicker basket, you lay the slightly damp dress. Task finished, you bring the basket to your hip as you stand up from the stream.

“I have no qualms over it.” Then the conversation dies as you walk off, nobody’s buttercup.

The stream babbles as you walk alongside it. Like a puppy barking at your heels, you two move in sync. Somewhere in the bush, you think you can hear the sound of the copperhead rustling. A person disinclined towards the very thought of death, that is who you are. Embracing it, you jump upon the fallen, precarious log that hovers over the stream.

You glance at Jade who watches you. Then, wicker basket in hand, you step with a note on your tongue. Walking down the log to the other side, you say with each footfall, “do re mi fa sol la ti do.” Your voice goes higher as your steps evolve into stomps.

You crash onto the other side, leaves crunching, as Jade asks, “What was that?”

“Something I’ve been orchestrating.” You challenge him with a look, separated by running water. “You should try it. You never sing at any of the entheogens.”

Before the village drinks the holy wine mixed with the holy mushroom of God, the entheogens ceremonies call for everyone to sing. You have never seen Jade’s mouth so much as twitch. Though, surprisingly, no one ever makes a fuss about it. The village turns it back on any of the blasphemous actions of Jade Leech.

“Unless you sing like a croaking toad … ah, then I suppose it all makes sense. It would be a disgrace to your parents if you sang. Unfortunate.”

Jade’s brows furrow. Got him. As he walks down the log, forgoing the stomping you did, he sings the rising scale, “do re mi fa sol la ti do.” He lands by your side, hopping off the behemoth log. There is a golden firecracker of satisfaction in his olive-brown eyes.

“I did not know you could sing like that.”

The firecracker sizzles out as Jade’s brows shoot up. He feels a light pink start to tiptoe up to his cheeks.

Your voice is soft like honey, full of awe. Your reticent inhibition around Jade melts at that moment. Like snow on spring ground, you warm up eternally – just a bit! – to the invading pest that is Jade Leech. Someone who has been like a mite in your otherwise well kept paradise. You take him in a different light: cropped black hair, slim face, and olive-brown eyes just a bit less obnoxious. You had only heard such a singing voice from –

“Come. Let us go unless that someone you want to avoid finds this spot.”

The thought disappears. Blinking, you watch Jade stalk off. When you regain yourself, basket in hand, you walk just a bit behind him. Like the stubborn child you are, you bite the inside of your cheek, thinking:

Jade sounds good when he sings.

You two continue silently back to the village, Jade leading. It is a content walk, not even many rocks or lifted ground to trouble the path. Nature sings around the two in a musique concrete of twigs, leaves, and dirt. It is only when you feel a small tug that you wander off.

Jade watches with knowing, incorrectly colored eyes.

Your eyes sparkle upon a holy sight. More than a dozen light brown and ivory white jellyfish caps stand up straight in grass off the path. Like toads in mud, they break through the dehydrated grass in poor camouflage. Psilocybin mushrooms. The mushrooms that your congregation holds in high regard; a mushroom on piety par with a cross or a clerical collar.

Like the winner of an Easter egg hunt, you go to collect the mushrooms. Prizes God had hidden from you so you could search and prove yourself. Carefully, you start to put them in your wicker basket, sprinkles of dirt landing on the top dress.

Shadow folding over you, Jade inquires, breaking the silent retreat, “How many more days until you die, (Name)?”

No one should ever smile at such an inquiry. Yet, here you do, proud of the psilocybin mushrooms in hand, you answer with a big grin, “1,746 days.”

“Jade Leech, you little thief! Get back here right now!”

You look up upon hearing those words. Four buildings away, you watch as a towel crack on the back of Jade’s spine as he walks out of the bakery. The head chef seems to be the one caterwauling at him, twisted towel weaponized like a claymore. A sly smile is plastered on Jade’s face despite the hit.

Idiot; no one steals from her and leaves without a tussle. She, the head chef, is caterwauling like a soaked cat. A smile still emerges on your face despite your previous trouble. Speaking of those troubles –

You turn back to your work. There are not many jobs for you to take in the village. As the ritual’s sacrifice, labor is something you do not need to concern yourself with as the Reverend says. Attending prayer services, purifying yourself, and connecting with nature are your top priorities. You stretched out the limitations on the last priority and managed to convince that soft-hearted Reverend to let you start beekeeping with two village elders.

If our God is in every mushroom, every flower, every faucet of nature, it must be alright for me to care for His holy insects too? : that pathos and ethos argument won you the rights to take up beekeeping.

Right now, you are troubled by your job. Hairy white sections are on the lower burr comb and cells. It festers only a block of the hive where the queen is. A sign of another pest within the hive. However, none of the other signs were present upon last inspection. Of course, the sign of incursion would be near the queen – the most sensitive and paramount part of the hive.

The queen bee eludes your gaze right now, worker bees swarming around. You go to see if you can get a few to walk on your hand when something breaks your line of sight. Your hand stills. Held out to you is a half-ripped piece of bread.

Not taking it, you look up at the smiling face of Jade. Far away, surprisingly not giving chase, the head chef shouts: “Little devil child! You pest!” The grin on Jade’s face widens, teeth flashing at you.

“If only she knew the half of it. Here.” Jade holds up the bread, trying to appear generous in his motives. “Freshly baked.”

“Freshly stolen,” you correct. You take it either way. Stealing is frowned upon by the congregation but you have no fear left to worry about consequences. A tiny bite leaves you pleasantly surprised. Sourdough. You go back in for a bigger bite.

Jade sits down beside you, eating his own share and looking into the broods. Glancing up from your piece, you say, “You did that on purpose.”

“Stealing is often a motivated task.”

“No. You got caught on purpose; you’re slippery enough to steal and not get noticed.”

“I assure you that I was trying my hardest to not get caught.”

“Ah I see,” you say, wholly unconvinced.

“Your mind is not at ease. Usually you smile more when attending to your bees.”

Like a chipmunk, you stuff your cheeks with sourdough to avoid answering. “It is unlike a person of your standing,” Jade continues. Your standing: your life’s merit as a sacrifice. The reason that everyone calls you One instead of (Name). The Chosen One connected to the Odd One through nature and, thus, nature’s creatures.

“Sumtin’ s ‘rong wit the quee.”

“Pardon?”

You swallow, “Something’s wrong with the queen.” You spear a crescent into the bread’s crust with your nail. Despondent, you explain, “There are signs of an infestation near her section. I also noticed the capped cells were full of holes and overall seemed frail. That’s a sign of Varroa but I haven’t seen a single mite or deformed wings.”

“Always the queen isn’t it?”

“I don’t understand why I can never raise a healthy queen. The cell caps of hers always appear healthy, but halfway through, she suffers from signs of unknown invasion.” Quarantining your bees is the most viable option but you would rather solve this matter before taking a drastic measure. If only you could locate her –

You jump when Jade presses his hand close to the honeycomb structures. “Hey, be careful! You need gloves!”

“You do not wear gloves.”

“That’s different!”

“Hush.”

At that word, you happily wait for him to get strung. With his inexperience, it should only take a short amount of time. Sourdough in hand, you sit back to watch the show. Bees crawl like pouring vinegar over his pallid hand, curious, and you huff at his gentleness. Any moment now. Any moment comes but it comes with Jade pulling hand away with the queen bee on his forefinger.

“How did you –”

“What, like it’s hard?”

“I hate you.”

Jade smiles wide at that. The queen on his finger flicks her wings as he moves his hand to hover between you two. She seems fairly healthy despite all the disturbance around her. “Trying to steal my job, Jade,” you ask when he passes her to you.

“Do not even entertain the thought. I do not particularly enjoy insects. They may be entertaining for an hour or so, but I am content with the thought of their entire colony going up in flames one day.”

“Monster.”

Jade smiles in his you-don’t-know-the-half-of-it way.

Jade stares up at the statue of himself, contemplative.

For five out of thousands of years, Jade has passed time wearing fake human skin. Fake pallid hands find themselves stroking his neck for gills no longer there. Those hands hesitate over touching his ears, feeling thick muscle and bone instead of a thin membrane of skin. His trepidation around looking-glasses has eroded over the half decade. But, Jade still finds himself not entirely accepting parts of the body he puppets.

Walking around in the wrong skin is like wearing clothes too small. It squeezes over him like latex, tightening when he moves a certain way and constricting when he looks at it too long.

His hands especially are wrong, lacking webbed structure and the correct hues. How his fingernails flush purple and his fingers red when it is cold … it disgusts him. How his veins are blue under sand toned skin … it is a sickening sight. The human body wrapped around his working brain and working heart, it is the most grotesque part of this trail. Sometimes, he wants nothing more to shed it off an amphibian.

Jade takes his vexed gaze off his hands and returns to staring at the monument. Cleaners are put on rotation to polish and scrub down the entirety of him, forbidding moss or dirt to lay upon him. They are quite meticulous about it too. Meticulous like how a mother bathes her child. They scrub behind his ears, over the ridges of his dorsal fin, under the extended points of his claws. He has seen real, palpable joy on the faces of those given the job.

The sculptor … died about 2,050 years ago if Jade’s memory is right.

Withstanding the test of time, here the effigy of his true form lies, propped up on a block of marble chiseled to look like a sweeping wave. His face is sculpted in a polite mien with the slightest hint of malice. Smiling with teeth yet not with all his teeth. Just the top row. In stone, his tail dips in backwards J and is hooked upward like the frozen neck of a screaming horse on a carousel.

If asked, Jade thinks he misses his tail most right alongside his hands. The only change that he does not mind is his hair. Living on a warm island with long hair would have been bothersome, especially on his neck. The cropped style is nice; his real hair would have made him sweat.

Then, staring down the effigy of himself, Jade realizes he made a mistake earlier. He knows he misses swimming the most. His tails and hands: they are mere tools to propel him when in the sea, so deep in his plunge that it feels like he is moving universe to universe with each wide stroke.

Only less than three years remain until your death. 819 days if his memory serves correct. And this time it does; he is as certain as stone is hard. But such a long time in fake skin feels like the lifespan of a human, dragging day by day. Each inhale of the sun and exhale of the moon feeds the bugs crawling on his skin, uncomfortable in this fake skin.

Jade wonders, scratching his forearm, if he should speed this sacrificial ritual as he watches you race across the field towards him. He glances down at your nude human feet. Quadriceps, sinew tendons, and bone propelling you forward until you skid to a stop in front of him – with a jar in your hands?

“Look what I have!” There is a big, prideful grin on your face. With a flourish, you raise up said jar. And Jade responses –

“Wow. A jar. How marvelous.”

Your expression flattens at that. As if retreating, you pull the jar to your ribcage, protective arms around it. “It’s not just any jar. It’s my – Itchy? I think we have some medicine in –”

Jade pauses his scratching to interrupt. “No, I’m quite alright.” The marks running up his skin are angry and red, yet miraculously not bleeding. “So,” leaning in, he grins with all his teeth and says, “what’s in the jar? Must be revolutionary with how fast you ran over here.”

“It is!” Pride relights your body. You unscrew the jar with flying fingers. Then, you hold out the open mouth of the jar towards Jade, waiting for praise.

“Ah, honey.”

“Not just any honey; it is the last flow of honey.”

“I see. There is no more honey after that. So we will eat pancakes without honey soon, correct?”

“You’re not getting it, are you?”

“Afraid not.”

“Hmph.” You bring the jar back to your chest as Jade ponders on why humans are so sensitive. “The best months to harvest honey are from July to mid-September, right? And it is mid-September, right?” Jade nods at both your inane questions. Still not getting it. “Honey is the sweetest and best when you collect the last honey flow. The nectar flow from this is the one they make in the summer! It is going to taste Godly!”

“Careful what words you use, (Name).”

You two glance up at the company you keep. Though his gray left eye and yellow right eye are the same hue of stone, they seem to shine. Something fierce and glowing breaking through inert expression. You smile mischievously. “I’ll make it up to him when I’m dead. Now. Taste this.”

With a roll of olive-brown eyes, Jade leans in to observe the jar which you are once more offering him. Inside, the yellow honey tilts like a slow avalanche with the degree you hold it at. Gold gleams like the surface of the ocean under sunlight, almost sparkling. I almost miss home, Jade thinks as he dips his index finger in.

Oh.

Finger in mouth, Jade does not want to admit it but you are right. This is perhaps the best honey he has sampled before. The nectar slides down his tongue, touches his throat, and slugs down to his stomach. It is almost an addictive taste.

It is an uncleaned sweetness that melts down his throat. Like blasphemous scripture.

Jade really should not show you his enthusiasm for it; your pride will only increase knowing he enjoys it and you will grow more annoying. Yet, as if pulled by strings, he sticks his finger back into the jar. Before tasting, he asks, “What did you say the difference with this flow is?”

“It is the last flow of the season. With the bees hibernating soon, you can maximize the honey you are collecting by being patient. But there’s really an entire system to it, making sure you don’t strike too early or late.”

“Would it not be the sweetest during summer when the bees are most active?”

“Nope. Patience is the key; beekeeping is a waiting game.”

A waiting game? He watches you stick your own finger in, feasting on the rewards of your patience. The later harvest yields a richer taste. How splendid of his sacrifice to say just the words he needs to hear to understand himself and motives.

Eventually, almost telepathically as if both of you know what your companion is thinking, you and Jade stare up at the statue. Your saliva-coated finger and dry fingers place the cap back on the jar, leaving it unscrewed yet lidded. Jade waits until you are enraptured with the sculpture before he turns his attention to you.

You stare, contemplative. The sun is three hours off from its peak. Thus piscine shadows of the statue fall onto awaiting blades of grass. The silhouette of his dorsal fin like a knife and the silhouette of his hunched shoulders, leaning in like he is going to burst to life any moment. He has this hardly contained enmity is his expression, upturned eyes too sharp and smile too tiny.

“Can’t you just see me and him, together in paradise?”

“You two will make a lovely couple.”

“Heh, that’s what they all say.”

Jade studies your profile. There is just a tiny droplet of animosity in your worshiping eyes that he is desperate to uncover the truth about. You are bitter about something. However, whenever Jade tries to peek into that hate circuit rivering itself through your cortex, he gets nothing.

He supposed he could ask; if he is going to bid his time in other realms, he has more time to analyze the ecosystem of your brain. You startle when he speaks. “(Name). If you were not the chosen one, what would you do with the rest of your life?”

The expression you give Jade is easy to read: confusion. “If I wasn’t the – why, I couldn’t imagine my life any other way.”

“But try to. Try to imagine your twenty-first birthday.”

“Stop being ridiculous, Jade.”

“I am as serious as death.”

You shake your head furiously. “There is no other choice to make, but I am using my choice and have chosen to be there. As the chosen one.”

Jade, with all his immortal life wisdom goes huh? at your verbal affirmation.

“Such a boy,” you mourn, frowning up at his statue. You shuffle your bare toes on the ground, feeling the dirt cling onto them and tune into the radio of nature for a bit. After a contemplative moment, you say, “I am nobody’s buttercup. But I must do something so I will do that.”

“I see.”

Taking your words as a challenge, Jade leans in. Your nose scrunches, thinking he is going to do something odious and ruin this perfect, honey-coated day. If you were built in the image of your God, you would want his teeth so you could snap at Jade’s nose. The sentiment grows when Jade flicks the lid off the jar — it frisbees through the air — and scoops up a handful of honey. Some of it doesn’t even make it into his mouth!

“Hey! No stealing from the chosen one!”

“You never said there was a time limit on the honey you offered.”

“Well, there is one now! We have to make this last until next September! I have only two Septembers left!”

Jade laughs, licking the honey off his wrist. He makes another grab at the jar as you rush away from him, trying to retrieve the lid. “Back! Back, you heathen!” And the smile Jade makes as he chases you around the field is a perfect copy of the expression that is carved into stone.

Time passes like it always does. Life is a constant stream that connects in the ocean of death, making itself the estuary of mortality.

Those two Septembers pass and twice more you successfully harvest the perfect honey flow. Even when Jade jokes all sinister that you should enjoy these last moments of good food, dipping sourdough into honey, you never even shake. At the apiary, all the jars are empty, trails of gold stubbornly clinging onto the glassware. You and Jade make the effort to scrub all the ones you used clean until they shine.

“You’re not afraid at all,” Jade asks, watching you scrub the remains of your presence from the world. All you are: congealing honey on a rag which you will dip into the nearby stream, which will carry you away to a water funeral.

“Not at all.” It must be true. Because under the winter’s sun, your hands are steady and determined. Because when Jade asks how many days are left, you respond with an unshakable voice. Because Jade thinks with some sort of thrill unlike any he has known, you have been waiting as patiently as he has.

It is only when the number of days decrease and shrink down to the number seven does Jade’s patience break.

There is no sunshine shining down on you but you are still as bright as ever. Under the silver moonlight, you twirl and run and even cartwheel in the open field. You have been forgoing any sort of sleep, utilizing all the hours in a twenty-four hour day until you pass out from exhaustion, nature as your mattress. No one in the village disapproves of it, seeing it as you embracing your God. Jade wishes someone would though. He has unfortunately been dragged out for the past seven nights by you, wanting his company.

And I still have seven more to go, Jade thinks, leaning against his statue. He never thought he would grow tired but even a human body has limits. Sleep addles Jade’s brain as his neck bends as if he is caught in prayer.

He snaps back up when you shout. “Jade! Jade look!”

Seeing that you have his attention, you launch right into it. You take a running start, hands up in the air. Cartwheel, cartwheel, cartwheel, ending with a front flip. Supernaturally energetic, you raise your arms up in your success, dress billowing around you, ready to accept the claps.

Jade manages a few light ones and says, “Well done, (Name).”

You smile happily. “Praise me more; this is the last week I’ll be alive to hear any sort of praise.” You twirl and watch the white of your summer dress puff up in a jellyfish shell. “Make sure they do not neglect to make mention of how good I was at cartwheels in the legends and stories.”

“I won’t, (Name).”

You fall back into it. Among the tall grass, you do a wide variety of different exercises and a variety of different dances. You move with the ease of an autumn leaf, trusting the wind. To the unheard and unsung song of nature and God, you gyrate around. Like God’s personal instrument, you bend yourself to the symphony that no one in your village has ever heard.

I’ll miss dirt, you think just as you blindly twirl into a patch of fireflies.

Fireflies explode around you like a firework. Wide-eyed and gasping, you pause with your hands raised up. Buzzing and rapid, the tiny comets of gold lift up from the flora and paint the night with tinier stars. Gripping the train of your dress, you rotate yourself to make room for the fireflies launching up to the west, laughing all the while.

Eventually, they dissolve into the sky, leaving your eyes chasing after them. They dissolve in dying breaths and dying heartbeats. You watch the last of them flicker out, finding a new patch to lie on or traveling too far for you to see them.

Oddly, an invisible bruise on your chest starts to ache.

Dirt encrusted feet carry your body before you comprehend what you are doing. Wildly, like something monstrous is at your heels, you run into the nearby thicket of trees, determined to reach the deepest part of the forest which surrounds the village.

“(Name)?” Jade squints at your fast-retreating form. “(Name)!” He picks himself off the statue as you rush into the forest, almost like you are in a panic.

“Catch me!”

The chase prematurely begins.

Jade dives into the forest after you. Pushing branches out of his way and jumping over protruding vegetation. Hundred elements of nature flicker across his vision as he runs and runs. Shadows elongate and distort under the occluding moon. He elbows his weight on a tree so it pushes him faster. Blanketed under nebulous black, the world beats with a thousand different songs.

All the while you are hollering and screaming. Screams evolve into frantic giggles and hollering matures into singing. Do Re Me Fa Sol La Ti Do, your feet race down the cliff slide in the pattern of the musical scale.

Your body is an instrument, Jade. Listen to it and you will be closer to God. Narcotic words you once said, deranged out of your mind. Narcotic words that you said while certain that patches of grass were growing from the planes of your skin. Narcotic words he had not paid much mind to. Closer to God, hm?

The crunch of leaves as you two run are like lyrics, right? Yet, the soles of his feet are like the percussion too? Guitar strings tendons pull with different frets and notes. Piano key fingers reach out and crush the branches in his way. His most powerful instrument is acting strangely though. His voice. That particular instrument is doing something it has never done before: laughing.

Is this what being human is, always running? He thinks this might be the faintest sniff of what it means to be a human: always running away from time. The epiphany is not about being human through sweet acceptance or love. His first taste of humanity is in the sweat of running and running while chasing.

Closer to God. Closer to humans.

At times, your aptitude is unreadable to Jade … that aptitude that guides you to never fear death. He wonders why there is such a wide gap between you and others when it comes to the terms of death. Closing in, he thinks: This Is The One. His fingers reach out, A0 from C8 scale running across phalanges. He could push you. With the momentum doubled with the rocks –

Still running, you turn to laugh at Jade. The pure joy on your face is blinding, hands up your shoulders and dress swaying. Your smiling face brightens at the sight of him (one close-eyed, titanic grin directed at him) before it winks away, flickering behind a tree. Jade watches as he loses you as you gather speed and sprint harder. Miraculously, you disappear from his sight, breaking the distance Jade had attempted to close.

God and human, you two run frantically through the forest. You throw out insults about his speed and he throws out his laughter in your duet. When the ground starts to decline, Jade finally figures out where you are heading to. He pumps his legs faster as the thickness of nature decreases gradually.

He breaks into the clearing by the stream, hoping to beat you, only to be confronted with the sight of you crouched by the water, twirling something between your fingers.

“Th-The forest is teething. I can feel it.” You pant like a dog. Jade watches the process of deflate and inflate; with each behemoth breath you take, exhausted and spent, your shoulder and ribs move with the hard work of your lungs. “It –” You choke around the salvia in your mouth, breathless. “It is the start of something here.”

“Teething?”

“Yes. Like babies do.”

I’m teething, Jade contemplates, unsure of what that word really entails. He knows little of human babies. It is only until you show Jade what is in your hand that he thinks he gets it.

“Look at this.”

From your hand, you present a black dahlia flower with a bright sunny center to him. The sunny center squeezes into a tiny circle then widens out in the average size. It is like a nostril, flickering and changing shape with each inhale and exhale. It is trying to breathe but as a flower it does not understand how to do that with a lineage of photosynthesis written in its body.

That flickering feeling of the beginning is so thick in the air. The start of something is here. It permeates in your bones. All through your skin, it permeates.

“It is certainly …” Jade trails off, not really used to seeing this side of himself.

“Beautiful,” you supply. There is a warmth in the space as Jade sits down besides you. The space between you is bright despite the midnight. “Can I tell you something? And you must keep it a secret.”

“Go ahead. I am as quiet as a church mouse.”

“I had this vision during the last entheogen.”

You still remember it. Swallowing the wine and, from within, bringing out the divine. Psilocybin on your tongue, you laid in a technicolor sea, holding up the receiver of your brain and waiting for that connection with God. You had a vision about the sacrament that is less than a week away. You look up to the sky as you speak. The moon is past the peak of midnight noon.

“I was at the ceremony. The sky was completely cloudless so you could feel the warmth of the sun. I was walking down to the slab bed. Dressed and ready.

“But when the Reverend told me to say my final prayers, I couldn’t.”

The black dahlia gives a sneezing breath at that. “Why couldn’t you?”

“My mouth was full of bees. I opened my mouth.” You look at Jade and decide to demonstrate. A fist moves up to your face before stretching fingers out like you are cupping a ball. “And blaaah, a hundred or so bees flew from my mouth.”

“The singer’s last ballad.”

“Odd, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps it is your mind rationalizing with the fear of your impending death.”

“Do not make me laugh.”

You are smiling, secondary to laughter. Returning attention to the black dahlia, you see the breaths have dwindled down to delicate stutters. It only stops breathing when you set it into the stream, watching it float and spin once. A dance in water, the revelation makes you grin softer. Your little theater show is only interrupted by Jade.

“What are your opinions on the ceremony? Now that it is so close, realer almost.”

You contemplate for a moment on the navel of the world, or as others call it ceremony. “I’m quite content with it.”

A picture paints itself: the stone rock, the slab bed, the omphalos alone in a field of psilocybin mushrooms, devoid of life beyond yourself. It is a bed you will eventually rest down upon and let the Father of your religion cut out the heart in your chest.

“I’m not going to die,” you whisper. Rejuvenate with that fact, you shuffle your body until your knees are tilted towards Jade. You lean in with flame eyes, a whirlpool of heat in them. Your next words cause the black dahlia in the stream to go breathless in surprise. “I’m going to find out if I’m really alive.”

“Th –” Jades breathes out a tiny laugh. “That is quite contradictory, (Name). Such an event would not inspire such a thought.”

“Well, it’s true so you have to deal with it.”

“I will burden myself with knowing it and trying to understand it.” He puts a hand to his heart in promise.

“Good. Agonize over it.”

You take to putting your feet in the stream as you reposition yourself. Spreading out your legs, you draw up your dress to your thighs. Dirt floats up and follows the path the black dahlia is being pushed away to as water cleanses your soles. The percussion of your heart beats through your toes as you wiggle them, trying to gather warmth under cold water.

You look like a high renaissance painting: ideal and perfect in Jade’s eyes. You blink your own eyes when your body is slowly moved. “I waited.” Before you question Jade’s harsh words, his hand on your chin, the start of something new blossoms and the forest sings.

You pull away from the kiss first. Eyelashes butterflying open, you gaze upon Jade with a fondness he has never seen. “How do I taste?”

If Jade will be your only kiss, he thinks it makes sense that you want to know what you taste like. He will not allow you to kiss another in the next six days. Considering it, his focus narrows to his mouth. Your bacterial corpse rests on his taste-buds, measuring and remembering the taste of you. Floral notes are encrusted with a sort of raw grime.

“Earthy and sweet.”

Giggling, you dive back in for another kiss.

You think this has been a long time coming which is why you can fall into it so easily. Your amygdala – once a ripe grape – is dried up like a sun-kissed raisin.

Cupping Jade’s face, you feel no indication that is the wrong course of action. Grass and dirt tickles your flesh, teasingly happy. Nature reaches slippery hands into your brain, infecting you with dopamine. This all feels so unnaturally right.

It takes about seven kisses in total before Jade’s hand starts to run itself up and down your thigh. Across a field of goosebumps, he draws his hand from the ankle freckled with water to the midpoint of your upper thigh. It is only when he moves up to the barricade of where you placed your dress that you grab his wrist. Partially in his lap, you squeeze the bones of his wrist.

“You’re not here for too long so what could go wrong,” Jade, eyes closed, asks the question towards your hesitation.

“Only two things are required of me in six days,” you kiss Jade to appease and because you want to. “That I die in six days on my twentieth birthday and that I remain a virgin.”

“Surely we can negate one of these constricting restrictions. I say that God is being a bit selfish.” Jade seethers inside, hiding it well with his returning saccharine kiss. Hoping to persuade and because he wants to. There is no possible way that his own rules are going to leave him with a painful stiff, is there?

“I think the man can handle one lapse of judgment from His prized singer. He knows you well. Say ‘oh dear God’” He vocalizes a facade of your frightful feminine voice, nipping at your ear. You giggle at the foreign sensation. “‘There is this awful, stealing, odious man down there and I. Fell. From. Grace.” Jade punctuates each word with a kiss. He moves down the musician’s scale of your throat, returning to his own deep timbre.

You shiver and, against better judgment, relax the hold on his wrist. “I do not fear the wrath of any man or God.”

The tune of acceptance, Jade thinks as he kisses down to your breasts. When he cultivated from the ceremony, it was only the human hearts he ate. This meal will be a new experience for both you and him. “Good. If you started being frightened, I would find you weak.”

“Is that so? I thought you were always veering for me to be more,” you gasp, toes frozen in the stream, as Jade cups over your sex. He lies his hand over it but does nothing more. “-- Veering for me to fear death?”

“Is this your death?”

“It could certainly be close to that.”

“Well, let this be the sweetest death you could ever know.”

With skillful fingers, he unties the back of your dress with only one hand. Though it comes undone quite quickly as if he has taken scissors to it. Strange. You do not focus on it long as tiny knives fall over your shoulder, removing the sleeves of your summer dress. Treading a hair through short black hair, you keen under his gentle, attentive touch. Jade sucks hard on your right breast.

The sensation sends a ripple of goosebumps along your arms. It feels sweetly blasphemous, all the attentive kisses pepper to your breasts. A taste of something new and at its peak. You twitch when you feel Jade’s blunt nails move from cupping your sex to trailing a finger over the space where hip and thigh meet.

“Wait,” you stop Jade. His mouth falls away, teeth sharpening a bit with annoyance. He looks up at you, big olive- brown eyes gleaming. “I’m – Well –” You glance down at his hand that is swallowed under your dress. “It’s not a pretty scar,” you whisper.

“I’m sure it’s beautiful like the rest of you.” Before you can protest, the rest of your dress is pulled over your head. He leaves you in only your panties, sitting in the dirt by the stream. Your eyes widen.

“Don’t,” Jade grabs the hand that goes to block his sigil. It has never looked so appetizing on a sacrifice until you. He licks his lips. “It’s gorgeous.”

“It’s still a scar.”

“Not to me,” Jade says, pressing his body against you so you lay down.

Delirious, like you are floating off a substance, you go to unbutton his long sleeve, wrestling your hand from him. Your skull is cushioned by your dress, bundled into a ball. The sharp point of sticks hit your skin. Wet sediment, a mixture of sand and dirt, clings onto you.

Under the ground, a foreign heartbeat drums. It hammers in a rhythm over your spine, bottom, shoulders, and soles. It is a mimic of the heart resting in your chest, syncing with nature in some incomprehensible way just like black dahlia managed to breathe. Chary thoughts dissolve from your head when Jade moves down to press a kiss to the sigil.

You manage to wrestle the shirt off Jade, using it as a rope to pull him, meeting in a kiss of tongue and teeth. Let go of your inhibitions, the forest beckons. Treading a hair through short black hair, you keen under his gentle, attentive touch. You float with the floating pine-cones as Jade presses himself against you.

“God,” you moan, breaking away from the kiss.

“Come now, you know my name.” Jade teases. He works himself out of his pants, patient in his motions. “Can’t you say it?” The head of his penis kisses the wet spot of your panties. His grin is so familiar like you've seen it somewhere else before .

“Jade.”

That is all it takes, panties torn by claws. A dozen frenzied thoughts crash into your mind when he pushes himself into you. You cling feebly to him like a caterpillar to a leaf. He thrusts in, starting slow and then fortissimo-ing the act. The sound increases, skin on skin, along with the speed, inch by deeper inch. It feels like your insides are being ripped out of you. I think I’m dying is your most prominent thought. Then, you cum, singing in moans.

It is, in all senses of sensations, la petite mort.

“Aaah — mmmmph my God aah!”

You push your hands against the trunk of a tree. On trembling, fawn legs, you stand with arms outstretched in a tight caress of the pine. Behind you, down the long arch of your spine, Jade presses kiss to each golf-ball indent of bone. Heat spreads like a virus to your shoulders, smoldering, as you feel his length lightly trace down the curvature of your bottom.

Butterflying eyelashes glance up at pine. Your head feels heavy like a whirlpool heat courses through it, scarlet and yellow. Salvia holds itself heavy in your mouth; stimulation – if pushed any further – will have you drooling from your blissed out state. Even disoriented, you recognize nature and the creatures it keeps.

Jade stills when he sees you moving your right hand off the tree. There is something on the tip of your finger. “Keep your hands there. You will need to keep yourself balanced.” He kisses your last vertebrae, eyes glowing, as you ignore his words.

“Cen-Centipede,” you manage to say, breathing heavily.

You hold out your finger to him. On your index, the orange legs of the arthropod flow like oil down your knuckles. With deep fondness, you watch it move. The same fondness is found in Jade’s eyes. He stills you look strangely beautiful: two leaves threaded in your hair, the streaks of dirt that birthed themselves on you when Jade plowed into you, and admiring a centipede in the middle of your third sex position change.

“Yes. I see.”

Jade says, resting his chin on your shoulder. Leaning over you, his length makes a pointed reminder of existing when the warmed blood of it hits and throbs on the center of your ass. “Pretty thing, isn’t it?” You nod before moving your arm down, letting it crawl off into the ground. Over your shoulder, you drag Jade back into another kiss. “Earthy and sweet,” he says, feasting on a taste he will have the pleasure of knowing for eternity.

Around you, the forest sings happily. Surrendering to that wonderful melody of nature, you put your hands back to the pine, using them to keep yourself upright. A slug of drool falls off your bottom lip as a soundless gasp exits you. You and Jade met; he presses himself into your cunt, two harvests of cum soaping and sucking him in easily.

The taste of you is entirely sweet like a honeycomb. The sensation of him is hallucinogenic like psilocybin. Earthy and sweet.

“S-Ssso deep.”

Your left leg twitches when Jade starts to move, experimenting with his speed. He was insatiable the first two rounds; he thinks he will test that beekeeping patience of yours. Yet, at only the first thrusts, Jade finds it a futile effort.

Your hand twitches on the pine at a foreign sensation. Where Jade’s hands rest on your hips, there is a difference in texture. There is silk between his fingers like some type of webbing. You startle at the odd sensation. Going to look behind you, you ask breathless, “Jade?”

“Cl – ugh – Close your eyes. Listen to … fuck … Listen to the forest.”

The thought of that strange texture of his hands is punched out when he finds a finger to your clit, rubbing in circles.

Fucked dumbed and drolling, you manage a “Fuck Jade!” before all your vocabulary burns itself from your brain.

“You have kept me up for the past week … (Na-Name) – uuk! –” Skin slaps in a thundering clap. Subconsciously, you tighten and moan. Summoning his breath, Jade leans in towards your ears, “I hope you can judge my next words fairly: I won’t stop until dawn. It will be a sleepless night for us.”

The night fills itself with the song of your moans.

“Men only think about the past right before their death as if they were searching frantically for proof they were alive.”

Like a bisque doll, you are washed by the village nuns. Two flank you on each side, one designated for your arm and the other for your leg. Assiduous, they move soapy towels down the length of your spidery limbs. Bisque dolls are beings without autonomy. You certainly do feel quite similar, disjointly watching a foreign hand lift your arm, twisting and rubbing soap on each finger with care.

Joints and skin do not belong to you anymore. A sterile hand lifts your left leg higher. Heart, not your possession.

Split into fourths like a filet, you try to remember who said those words: “Men only think about the past right before their death as if they were searching frantically for proof they were alive.” As you are being stewed and cooked into a gallimaufry, you find that the past is not what you think about.

You are thinking about the cloudless skies outside. You are thinking about what it will be like under real warmth, not the warmth of bath water. You are thinking about whether tomorrow it will rain or remain sunny.

“Is something wrong, One?”

The image of skies dissolves in your mind. You blink in surprise. Head off in the cloud, you do not know which of the four nuns spoke. Between all the pallid moon faces cloaked in black, you choose to look at the one cleansing your left arm. You two met curious eyes.

“Your face was scrunching up. I was wondering if you were feeling any discomfort, One.” Your right arm talks to you.

“I’m quite alright. Thank you.”

Your left leg chimes in, soapy brine slathered on it. “If you feel any sort of stress, please let us know.”

Now that silence has been broken, your right leg says, “I cannot imagine being stressed on such a wonderful day. Ah, I’m so terribly envious.”

“I am quite at peace on this holy day,” you smile as to appease the fear all your limbs display. Moon faces hum their agreement, tranquility only broken when you say softly, “but –”. You gaze at the bathhouse’s windows, glass blocking off where nature carols. “How much longer? I long to be outside.”

You glare at the shoes on your feet.

Flanking both your sides, the congregation sits in the village’s woodsmith-made chairs. Beyond you, the stone slab lies; behind you, the statue of your God. Yet, what is most vexingly is in front of you: the sight of shoes on your feet.

Each birthday, you were dressed in the ceremony clothes and made to practice. Each birthday, you gave no fuss over the attire. Letting them dress the bisque doll, you resigned to putting on the empire dress with the square cut to display your iron branding on your stomach. Down to the fiber of your being, now, you wish you could take off the blasted shoes.

Your pointless glaring only stops when a voice approaches, asking, “Did I ever tell you about your grandfather?” You turn to the Reverend with a smile. The ceremony is commencing.

With a soft voice, you answer. “Not often enough.”

The Reverend always walks the sacrifice down the aisle. You suppose this might be a bit more sentimental, considering who you are to him, which is why he talks to you. Gently, you two find yourself joined at the bend of your elbow.

“He was a religious man. Devoted in a way the others around him were not.

“He would go out in forests people were too scared to venture into. The villagers would find him, sketching things they could not see in nature. It frightened and delighted them too, his sketches. He would polish that very statue like each day it would bring him luck. Each day before he went out in the forests, that was his routine.

“When he died … he died saying it was all for vain.” Your lips press together tightly. “A man so devoted and so close to God, shaming it. It was perhaps the worst day of his sons and daughters lives. On his deathbed, he brought upon such … shame to his family. Men only think about the past right before their death as if they were searching frantically for proof they were alive.”

Ah, that is where you heard it. You remember finally, you had heard it in the future which is now the present. That was why you could not remember the speaker because he had not spoken those words yet. You did not think you would find the future in the entheogens; how curious.

You two start towards the stone slab. As nobody's buttercup, you keep your eyes straight and refuse to yield towards distractions. Devote unlike your grandfather. Devote unlike your unsourced father who knocked up your mother exactly twenty years and nine months ago.

“I tell you this because I am incredibly proud of you. I have witnessed such growth from you. Piety flows in your bones as if God has smiled upon you Himself. My child –”

You look towards the Reverend, curious.

“You have been good.”

Nature stirs. At least, this time, the queen bee in my honeycombs is healthy. I leave behind something good.

When you reach the sacrificial table, you part like droplets rolling off a leaf in opposite directions. You press your hands on the omphalos, kneeling down and bowing your head. Eyes closed, you listen to the words you have heard since your tenth birthday.

You cannot help it – your mind wanders back to the past. Not searching for the merit of life, simply remembering how you became the Chosen One. A decade ago … such a long yet short time, such a juxtaposition.

The ritual involves the ocean. The ocean in which that faithful stream bleeds into. Every twenty or so years, just after the sacrifice predating them dies, everyone below the age of ten is made to stay underwater. The one who remains the longest is regarded as the Chosen One. Time slipped from your fingers like sand, underwater. A minute is an hour, an hour is a minute.

When you walked out of the ocean, your mother ran to embrace and to collapse to the ground crying. You had been underwater for a full twenty-four. The villagers thought you got swept up a riptide and died like some three year olds and two year olds of the past. Blue-lipped and shivering, you told them you thought you were the first one out.

There is no way you should have survived and felt as fine as you did.

Since then, nature talks to you like a baby conversing with an adult. You can make some syllables, understand the babbles that make up baba mean dada, and read the unconcealed emotions clearly. Now, it sings along with the Reverend, soft and gentle … somniferous almost.

You know you shouldn’t but –

You glance, barely moving your head, at Jade. He is staring right at you. His eyes are different, tiger eyes of flaming black and flaming gold. Somniferous eyes stare at your soul. Promptly, you pass out.

You wake up.

Your feet are encrusted with dirt. A multitude of trees enter your eyesight and the sound of a running stream worms into your ears. You are standing by the river where you washed clothes as a young teenager; the place where you and Jade had sex seven days ago; the place where you broke God’s trust.

Yet, no fear is present. Chest unusually light, you stare at the familiar pattern of trees dotted across the opposing side of the river. To your limited knowledge, this is you facing divine judgment. Retribution must be collected for your only sin.

You can accept that.

Curious eyes fall across the wilderness as your vision clears. You can not really tell what song nature is singing; there is a disconnect between you and the world. Blocked from the majority besides a single instrument: buzzing. You hear the harmony of humble bees buzzing, which you search for the source of. When you find it, a gasp breaks apart your lips.

Spread across the planes of your two arms are a thousand octagonal holes. Skin drenched in a mixture of golden honey and scarlet blood, the only breakage is pitch black, tiny honeycomb structures dug in your flesh. The concave pits freckle the entirety of both arms.

From the inner elbow and wrist of your left arm, two bees emerge from two separate holes. From the radius of your right arm, another bee. The rest of the colony is inside your skin, tickling your nausea.

That is not all that summons that high-pitched gasp. Clenched in the Swiss cheese flesh of your hands is a knife covered in blood.

You watch as the once cement knife starts to vibrate back and forth the longer you stare at it. Whole body shivers rape your bones and the shining red knife trembles with the movement.

For reasons unknown, your parted lips spill out one last rhythmic note, “J-Jade?” The world goes black.

You wake up.

Black, directionless water swallows you. There is no end or no beginning, so you float in the abdomen of the universal ocean, body tilted and head heavy. No calamity stirs your buoyant bones. Quite peaceful, you exist like a free-roaming satellite, untethered and left to bounce alone in directionless galaxies. No light, pitch black.

This is what you have always wanted from death. No God paradise, just a nebulous space to drift. This is the ideal death. Body propelled and caressed by unsourced waves that rock you peacefully to infinite sleep. No stars, pitch black.

It stops being peaceful when you need to take a breath. Water instead of air travels in. You have no mouth or nose. Body manipulated, water goes in the waiting nostrils of the seven pairs of holes in your abdomen and the three pairs of holes in your thorax. And, suddenly, that tranquil black gains a blinding hue of pain.

Depressing, the water does not float around you but pushes onto you. It clings like you are a magnet. The tiny caves in your thorax and abdomen flicker with agony, gathering more water. It clings to you like spandex. You throw an arm and leg into the atmosphere, and the absence of everything (beginning and end) is no longer a comfort. It clings like a leech, suctioning itself to you and filling the spiracles.

Mouthless, your heart throws out an unheard scream. The world goes blinding gold.

You wake up.

The first texture you feel is the cold granite on your cheek. It is a welcome balm until the granite grinds painfully on your pelvic bone and the skin of your breasts. Disorientate, you push yourself away from the surface. The granite rumbles under your hands … no, the granite is soundless but there is a rumbling. Still sitting on the ceremony’s sacrificial slab, you open your eyes.

The village is on fire. There is no building left intact. Flames rumble and tremble, fueling their physical form with all that a house has to offer. Red and gold climb upon the outer walls and black climbs out from the pumpkin innards of each house.

Snip-snap-woosh-woosh. The conflagration’s volume drowns out any and all sounds of nature. Beyond the roar of fire, you hear absolutely nothing.

Irrational, you turn your head in the direction of where you know the bee colonies are. You cannot see them through the thick plumes of smoke, separated from you by several burning buildings. You knew you would not be able to see them; why even look in their direction? Regardless, you squint even more to try to catch a glimpse.

If the queen moves, they would too. Survival instinct would make them take flight, right?

On the verge of tears, you start to squirm on the slab, taking your hand behind yourself and moving it by your thighs, angling your body so you can lean closer and squint at the flaming barricade, one of your legs slides off the slab, perhaps there is time –

“(Name).”

You look behind and down at Jade Leech. He rests with his arms folded on the slab, knees in the dirt. On his index is the queen bee, walking around and around in circles on his nail.

Your heart falls in despair. “She’s sick … She has a parasite.” Even when vocalizing the issue, you do not want to accept your own words.

“She does; she has had it for a while.”

“Is there anything I can do for her?”

“I’m afraid not. Soon the egg in her stomach will hatch. And the pupae will break out of her throat and head. It is truly odd. Usually, when bees have parasites like these, the bees throw them out of the hive. They kept her though. Even when there was something glaringly wrong with her.”

“Because she’s the queen.”

“Precisely.”

You and Jade watch on in a moment of silence. The queen rotates on twitching legs. Zombie-like, her tiny legs will give out momentarily and she tilts on the perch of Jade’s finger before getting back up again relentlessly. Circle turning into an octagon as she stutters in her steps.

Your hand drags across your face, flustered. The single, heavy as an anvil tear spreads thinly on your cheek. You blink the rest away.

Jade glances up from the parasite-raped bee. “Are you afraid?”

“No … I’m sad.”

Jade considers that. Mourning is a human process when death happens; mourning is like kintsugi to the heart, repairing it layer by layer. In the face of death, one sheds a predictable tear. The queen bee twitches, losing her strength. Jade mourns that he might never see true fright on your face, like missing a piece in a chocolate heart-shaped box.

He falls out of his pondering when you gently press your finger to him. Under the light of dozens of suns, gold and red flickering over, you are ethereal. His eyes fall helplessly to his sigil. He allows you to move him at your heavenly will.

“What happened to the ceremony,” you ask, taking the queen from him. You cup her like she is the tiniest pearl or the fragilest shard of sea glass. “Do we still have time to complete it?”

You do not receive a verbal answer. Instead, Jade gently pinches your chin in his hand, pulling your focus away from the insect. A warm smile settles on his face, olive-brown eyes soft with admiration. Then, grip steady on your mandible, he turns your focus to the open field, on the opposing side of the burning buildings.

When his hand falls away, your mouth falls open with the loss of stability.

The attending nuns and villagers are dead. A deep cavern is cut like a mouth across their throats, blooming a million liquid roses that stain their white garments. In their chairs, their heads are tilted back to display the rings of muscles in their body. Dead eyes face up the heavens, ignorant of their God who is venturing on land and swimming in the oceans of Earth.

The Reverend though – he lies in the middle of the walkway. He is headless, body supine and incomplete at the shoulders. All that remains of an indication he had a head is red splattered upon the grass. This butchery is inevitable. A priest of your religion is not allowed to impregnate women, under your God’s vow of celibacy.

“Oh.”

Is this punishment? Life snuffed out from your devoted village, leaving you and Jade who had broken the rules. You look down at your dying companion; she is halfway through a rotation, legs trembling on a trembling hand. Nature feels disconnected from you and yet, simultaneously, you feel like nature nestles herself in you.

“Oh, look at you. All alone.” Jade purrs, almost singing.

“I – I’m assuming you did this. Or God did this.”

“You are correct on both parts.”

“Do not toy with your words, Jade.”

“I'm as serious as death. Here, let me show you.”

Raising his hands, Jade presses palms to mouth. As he tilts his head back as far as possible, he follows along with his hands, running them up and over. Upturned olive-brown eyes quell with the pressure. Cropped black hair trembles with the motion. And when his hands finally return to the granite slab, Jade stares at you with a new right eye that shines a honey gold. His hair is considerably different.

Different, not unfamiliar. Far from unfamiliar. You have seen that style of teal hair with a single black strand since birth. In paintings on your mother’s nightstand, in books shelved away in the school, and carved into a towering stone effigy.

You think you have always known, looking so intently into nature thus looking so intently into Jade as well.

The queen bee on your finger grinds to a halt and dies. Crushing down in enclosing fists, the ceremony narrows; all the world is lost to you besides God’s/Jade’s voice. Nature beckons. He beckons. The fists you make are a comforting caress.

“Are you afraid of me?”

“Never.”

“Prove it to me.”

“How?”

“Sing for me.”

Swallowing thick saliva, your chest puffs with air peppered with ash. You two stare at each other. Then … you sing.

Tongue volatile, you sing. It is not a melody that follows along with the rhythm of a river or the instrumental of an insect. You sing out your heart, sending it out on delicate honey bee wings.

#jade leech #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland

122 notes · View notes

herzgeist-writes · 7 months

Note

hi, could you write about law where his gf is just a clumsy mess. And she just hit her head on a open drawer, pretty hard. And know she is embaressed to go to him and ask for a ice pack. So she try to steal it unnoticed from his room. But of course she got caught.

And now she just try to played down, but it hurts like hell. He just care for her lil wound and something fluffy down the road. Maybe she remind him of cora. Ahhhh sorry for the spam

Pairing: Law x Clumsy fem!reader | Word count: 1.4k | Warnings: none

Synopsis: Oh look, another bruise. Didn't notice this one, silly me! Law can't stand the way you hold yourself - without care. Everytime he hears a faint 'Shit' or 'Ow' in the distance, he immediately considers it to be you, hurting yourself unintentioally again. What a drag. And yet another day, he finds you in attempt to smuggle something from the infirmary, observing you how you disfigure the drug storage. He actually has to speak up, until you finally realise you're not alone. "Law, it's nothing." - "Nothing can't turn red and blue and starts to swell like that (Y/n)-ya! Now hold still!"

A/N: Anon, I LOVE spam! The more details the better :3 - Here we have a fluffy OneShot! Thank you for your request, I must say I adore the clumsy reader trope ఌ (erm, since I walk on two left feet myself)

Dividers by cafekitsune ~

What a night, you think to yourself, as you stretch and writhe underneath your warm and comfy sheets. The cold hits you like you're being thrown into a pool of ice water, as you lift the shield of comfort, goosebumps prickling along your skin. Yawning in a still jaded state, you crumble off the mattress and of course hit your toe on the cabinet's leg. As you do every morning.

In pain you yowl a distressed little curse, hopping in place. It's straining you beyond belief, praying for some sort of miracle to rid you of those cursed two left feet. If not for the better, you should wear bubble wrapper clothes, this way you won't hurt yourself non stop at least. However, it is, dare say, not the most attractive fashion option.

In addition, you are practically obliged to see the doctor, who you happen to be in a relationship with, verily frequent. Naturally, whenever you arrive at the kitchen or common room within the Polar Tang, it is of your highest priority to avoid Trafalgar's death gaze, before he opts to drag you to the infirmary with those, as you may call them 'little' aches and pains you always put on yourself. Until now, they were ever so often not to be taken lightly and Law patched you up in no time. Shame fills you, embarassed that you're, simply explained, a klutz.

You enjoy it no less, the attention your aloof lover gives you and the petty and sarcastic comments he throws at you. Him being close to you. His warm hands cleaning any cuts and bruises and his voice stern yet reassuring calms you, no doubt. With that in mind, you can't help but notice your heart beating faster to the pictures replaying in your mind. Squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head wildly, in hopes to quickly forget what's caught up in your day dreams about a certain white hatted man.

Today is your turn in kitchen duty and you decide to prepare breakfast earlier than usual, for you have something special in mind to serve this fine morning. Looking through the storage, no drawer or door is left unopened and you search for the needed ingredients.

As you lean down to seek out the lower cupboards, your skill to dodge the edge of an open drawer abandons you. Close to your temple, you feel how heat shoots up that area, making you dizzy. Fingertips trace along your head, where the imprint has been knocked into. Everything threatens to grow black before you.

„Oh, please no. Not again.", you murmur in desperation, legs beginning to weaken and nausea builds up from your core. That was quite the hit. Sitting down on the cold tile floor, you hide your face in your shaky palms. In panic, you come to the conclusion, that you must reach the infirmary, fast. All without getting caught by your overly attentive boyfriend, seems close to impossible to you. "Ice pack . .", is what you groan and you are set on your destination.

On wobbly legs, you close the door behind you and follow the corridor, down to the infirmary. Paranoia creeps over your spine, eyes scanning every dark and shallow corner. Before you enter the room, you peek over your shoulder to make sure you aren't followed: „Good, coast is clear.", the metal creaks and you step over the doorframe.

In all nervosity you begin to mumble and rummage through the drug storage: "Where is this god damn thing. I remember him putting it-" - "A little to the left, sweetheart." Jumpscared by the deep rumble behind you, you turn in a quick spin and stand in your Captain's shadow. With all your might, you gift him your most hearty and lovable smile, greeting him: "Law?! Why hello my love I-"

Instantly closing the locker doors behind your back, you giggle exaggeratedly, trying to play it cool, avoiding the icy steel glare, coming from the doctor. He orders: „Show me." Almost too quick you retort his command with an overacted pout of your lips, questioning his indication. Closer and closer the heavy steps come your way, stopping before you. Law reaches for your head and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, revealing the unmistaken bump.

An exasperated groan reverbs from his chest and he points at the examination table. "Now.", he commands and without a squeak, you obey. There you are again, seated on the cold metal plate. „Tell me what happend.", he utters, while washing his hands and putting on rubber gloves. There is no way you can escape his room anymore, unironically speaking.

Thus you twirl your thumbs in abashment, explaining: „I hit my head on a drawer in the kitchen about five minutes ago. I swear it's nothing, just a little bruis-" - „(Y/n)-ya, a little bruise doesn't turn red and blue and begins to swell at such an alarming rate. Now hold still." Ever so slowly, he approaches you, his grey orbs fixated on the injury. Inked and slender digits glide through your hair to get a better concept. Involuntarily, a hiss shoots through your teeth, as he palpates your scalp around the bump. Pins and needles trickling over your skin wherever he touches.

„Any dizziness, nausea or general weakness?" - „All three yes . . and think I was on the verge of passing out too.", by hearing your statement, which you formulate such a situation so nonchalanty is beyond Law's comprehesion. Oh how infuriated he is. Not hesitating once, he grabs the cleaning tools, anticeptics and cooling salves to get to work, patching you up again. It's become an everyday life chore for your dear Captain. Though he detests how imprudent and careless you are, he cannot deny how utterly adorable you appear at times, puppy eyes attempting to white wash every scratch on your body, not wanting to disturb him by all means. It is something he learned to love about you.

Yet somehow you remind him of someone. Somebody he used to care about alot when he was just a boy. Could it be? Why of course, Corazon. Well, at least you didn't burst into flames, like he did. Fortunately, you're not prone to smoke, to Law's approval. However, all the other stunts you deliver, are rather similar to Rosinante's, one could think you are related to one another. A smile tugs on the Captain's lips, as he finishes the treatment.

„What are you so happy about, darling?", you hum sweetly, earning a disgruntled click of his tongue, telling you it's nothing. You show your gratitude with a kiss to his cheek. It managed to elict a skip of his heart and he furrows his brows subsequently, hiding the red tint on his face under the brim of his hat.

Seeing him tidy up the infirmary, you make it your task to help him clean up after that little ‚operation'. „You should get some rest. Drink lots of water and take pain killers if needed. And for the love of god, please tell me, if any symptomps get worse, understood?", he growls through a tensed up jaw. You playfully nudge his side and chuckle softly: „I think I learned my lesson today. I'm grateful. Really appreciate your kindness and patience with me."

Kindness? Who on earth would call a powerhouse, a man as known as ‚the Surgeon of Death', kind? Only shaking his head and scoffing to your heartstring pulling remark, he huffs: „You're a curious one, (Y/n)" Side by side, you stand next to eachother, cleaning up the tool station. Through the corner of your eye, you notice his fleeting gaze upon you. Hence you return it, facing him with a querying expression.

An unexpected pinch on your cheek takes you aback, a small ‚Ouch' escaping you: „Oi, what was that for?" Law's thumb and index finger linger on the round of your face, not moving away, muttering lowly: „This is for being a fool, the clumsy mess that you are" removing his fingers from you, he gently places his palm back on the spot where he pinched you a moment ago „and this is for your troubles, my clumsy mess that you are."

Slowly he leans down to your level and lets his lips enlighten yours with the love he harbors for you, his blundering woman.

And as if nothing happend, the throbbing pain in your head disperses into thin air.

#one piece #one piece law #one piece trafalgar law #law x reader #law x fem!reader #law x female reader #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic fluff #Kiss It Better #help why are tsunderes so adorable

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luveline · 4 months

Note

You are so talented I can’t even fathom it Jade! I seriously don’t know how you do it.

Idk if you’re taking requests rn for Spencer still bc I know you write him a lot but I love shy reader and post prison Spencer it’s so cute. I would love to see their relationship growing, maybe her realizing the feelings aren’t one sided by little things he says or does for her or how he reacts if she gets hurt.

No worries if not! Anything you write is a gift honestly. Happy New Year!

thank you sm angel, you're too kind<3 hny! ♡ fem!reader, 1.2k

cw violence and injury

You'll be fine, Spencer had said, patting you on the shoulder. Just trust me.

This is decidedly not fine.

You crouch low behind a raspberry chaise turned blood red in the poor lighting. When you entered the building moments ago, it was light. But now the lights are out and you can't tell your friend from foe; footsteps to your left could be Spencer where he'd followed you in, or they could be the UnSub.

I'm right behind you, he'd said with a borderline rogue smile. You think I'd let you get hurt?

Breath warms your ear. “Boo.”

The air gets stuck in your lungs as brutish arms grab you. Your gun points toward your own jaw and your pulse hammers so hard you freeze, a split second, the amygdala overwhelmed. Then the UnSub tries to grab your weapon, and everything you've been taught kicks in. You twist in his arms, throwing your head back out of the line of fire as multiple agents call to you to sound off, and kicking hard at the UnSub's legs, the subsequent soft spot between them.

You fall hard onto the floor, screaming as a weight lands on top of you.

Spencer shouts your name. “Where are you?!”

A hard palm hits you in the throat. Light bounces off of the UnSub's face as a teammate aims their torch in your direction, but you're wheezing and aching, your throat on fire and too overwhelmed to think. The hand that hurt you leaps for your gun. You hold onto it for dear life, even as he forces it once, twice into the soft of your face, leaving rings of flame behind your eye. You pull it hard from his hands and fling it across the floor out of reach, squirming under his weight, needing to be away, away—

You pull your knee up and kick wildly, a well timed blow hitting the UnSub in the face with a damp-sounding crunch.

“I don't have eyes on her!” Emily shouts.

“I do,” Spencer says. His torchlight floods your area as he shouts, “Stand down!”

You don't squeal, but it's not a very professional sound as you crawl backwards out of the way. The ring of fire behind your eyes feels ever so slightly above it now. The room is half gone. You wipe your eye and look down at your hand, dark staining your palm in a heavy smear.

“Oh,” you mumble queasily.

The power never comes back on, but you don't notice until after, when Spencer's dragged you outside to the front yard and lowered you to a soft patch of grass, an EMT beside him dressing your wound. “Did they get him?” you ask.

Spencer's brow wrinkles with his frown.

“Remember what we said?” The EMT asks.

“No?” You wince and hiss as he pulls the wings of a butterfly stitch closed over your eyebrow.

“You have a concussion. I'm trying to work out how bad it is.”

You honestly still feel like you're in the dark room. You reach out for Spencer's hand instinctively, needing comfort, a tether to the ground, and he clasps your fingers tightly. “You're okay,” he says steadily.

“You're smiling at me weird.” You glance over your shoulder at the cop cars and the flashing red-blue lights. “Did you get him?”

“Emily got him. Just after he got you.” Spencer looks like he might stand from his crouch, but he brings your hand to his chin instead, leaning on it showfully. “It's my fault, I'm sorry. I told you I'd have your back and I didn't.”

Your chest stirs with the memory of your panic. One moment you'd been underneath him, and aching, and now you're on the grass as the forensics bring in the floodlights, so bright it's like mini suns have come out on either side of the yard. You hang your head to hide from the light. The EMT tells you off.

“Does your throat still hurt?” Spencer asks you, pulling on your hand gently. “Answer me.”

“My head is swimming.”

Your memories fuzz over. When you look up again the EMT is gone. Spencer sits on the grass now beside you unhurried, your hand still clamped between both of his. His thumb rubs at your knuckles and the smooth stretch of skin beside them, apparently content to wait with you.

“She's okay?” Tara asks, seemingly having appeared from nowhere.

“Not enough medical. They're gonna look at Agent Walker and circle back. She might have to be admitted.”

Tara bends at the waist to look you in the eye. “You okay?”

“I'm fine. Are you okay?” you ask.

“I'm doing better than you. That's gonna be a terrific bruise.” She smiles at Spencer reassuringly. “Emily wants you. I can sit with her, she'll be in good hands.”

“She'd be in great hands,” Spencer says simply, “but I don't care. I'm staying here. Please tell Emily she can come here if she needs to talk to me. I'm not going anywhere until they've finished looking at Y/N.”

Tara grins. “Your funeral.”

You're slowly starting to feel like yourself again, or more aware of yourself at the very least. Spencer's touch is melding from comforting to heart-rending, his nearness a heat. He looks stupidly good-looking considering what you've just been through, the FBI vest tight on his chest, his sweet brown curls falling into his eyes as he plays with your fingers.

“I must look awful,” you realise suddenly, a stone's throw from tearful.

Spencer doesn't glance up at first. “You look beautiful, but the bruise is…” He looks at you through dark lashes. “It's a tragedy.”

“What?”

His small smile fades. “How are you feeling? Are things clear, or would you say that I'm out of focus? You're having moderate to severe concussive symptoms.” He shakes his head. “And the bruise is mottling already.”

“I'm sorry.”

Spencer laughs softly. After a pensive moment, he brings your hand to his mouth. Maybe he kisses it, maybe he doesn't, but the touch brings a sacredness to his promise, “I won't let that happen again. You trusted me to keep you safe.”

“I trusted you to tell me if I was ready, and I was. I remembered how to get out of it. I'm still here.” You fluster after you've spoken, feeling brash.

You can feel his gaze on the side of your face. “You are. You did amazing.” He removes one hand from yours. A featherlight touch coasts down your cheek, brief and encouraging nonetheless. “It's going to be a really bad bruise.”

“Oh, well,” you say tiredly.

Spencer's turn to go quiet. He holds your hand on his thigh. “I could kiss it better?” he offers in a murmur.

You laugh and steal your hand back, unable to take all his attention at once. “Funny, Spencer.”

He gives you a warm smile. You can't tell if he's kidding or not about the kiss, but his devotion to you while you're hurting is real. You're not sure where that leaves you.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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sleepyconfusedpotato · 1 year

Text

More of You, Pt. 1

Direct continuation from the fic Wildflower! I'd recommend reading it first before this one (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

Part 2

One month since Ghost got deployed, one month since their 'date' got postponed, until Laswell called Jade to tell her that he'd gone missing in action.

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x Charlotte “Jade” Le Jardin (OC)

Word Count : ~ 7.8k words (I overdid it but idc lmao)

Warning : some angst with flufff don't worry, some whump, light gore, hurt/comfort, and good ol’ cursings.

Prompt : There's only one bed oop

Title and story inspired by the song with the same title by JP Saxe!

*****

“Ghost, give me a sitrep now!”

“Watcher-1, things are not lookin’ good-- They found me.”

“We cannot get you an exfil in that area. You need to lose them first. Get out of there right now!”

“My ammo’s runnin’ out… I can’t lose them—”

“Ghost, do you copy?!

“Ghost!”

---

It's been two months since Simon told her that he's going out of the country to go on a mission. It's honestly crazy how much she missed him already, considering the fact that they were not even a couple yet. Jade couldn't even fathom how much his presence, or at least his mere existence in the same country, meant to her. Two months felt so long. Too long.

No one to call her names, no one to ask her to go explore London culinaries, no one to go thrifting with (for Ghost's lack of variety of wardrobe), no one to have a drink while stargazing.

And no one to hug.

Well, not that she ever hugged him for more than 2 seconds anyway. Ghost was certainly not a hugger. The only times they hug were after each… 'date', they'd come in contact for a short hug, before Ghost took off.

He must've hated hugs.

Jade sighed, resting her chin on her palm at the Le Jardin floristry counter.

It was a slow day. There were a few pre-orders, but there weren't even 15 clients that came in. One hour until the shop closes, and Jade was the only person at the shop. Her employees had left, while her parents were on a trip to Asia. Honestly, it miffed her, because now her mind was full of Ghost and Ghost only.

Where is he?, she wondered.

The ringtone of her phone snapped her out of her thoughts. Jade reached for her phone on the counter, and Laswell's name was written on the screen. She raised her eyebrow at the sight, thinking of what else the CIA agent had in store for her after Jade clearly told her that she was retired.

Rolling her eyes, Jade tapped the green button and put the phone on her ear, "Kate, you can't just call me whenever you run out of people to send out–"

"Ghost is MIA."

Not even a second later, her legs brought her to the front door before she flipped the tag from 'Open' to 'Closed'. "For how long?"

"Yesterday." Laswell's calm voice continued on the phone, "Ghost going dark is not an uncommon occurrence. He's used to it, and all this time he always comes back, but the situation was awry."

"What happened before he went MIA?" Jade switched the light off, climbed the stairs to reach her room and quickly opened her drawer to change into 'proper' clothes.

"We had an intel about a hidden drug stash in South America. There was a suspicion that it might be related to the Las Almas drug cartel. After months of tracking, Ghost then found a hidden facility. He went to investigate, but it appeared that his position was compromised, and the last thing we know, he was being chased by the Narcos before the radio cut off." The CIA agent explained, her tone was stable, yet there was a tinge of guilt in them. "I fear he might be in a dangerous situation, or worse."

Zipping up her turtleneck, Jade then walked to her father's study, obtaining the key to open the discreet stash of weapons behind the shelves.

"Price and Gaz are with Farah in Urzikstan, while Soap is halfway around the globe on another mission."

She took her plate carrier, her karambit knives and their holsters, plus her firearms along with the ammo.

“I apologize to you, Jade. I truly do. But you're our best tracker, and I know what he means to you, so I notified you first.”

Putting all the necessary pieces of equipment into a duffle bag, Jade then lifted the bag downstairs, moving fast to the backdoor and made her way to her sedan, sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Your wheels are up in 3 hours and I'll brief you more on the way. Are you up for this?”

“Brief me now.”

-----

The facility was deep in the middle of a rainforest. Made of cement, hidden by the tall trees of South America, it was a well-hidden building, obviously far out of the public eye.

Hiding behind the tall bushes and her steps covered by the pouring rain, it was relatively easy for her to take a tour around the building to scout the area. Jade could at least count 12 armed guards outside, guarding the many sides of the building. They rotate the place constantly every hour, occasionally talking into their radio for reports.

Twelve was a ton of people for the building’s size, almost too much. They were in the middle of a rainforest and far from any city. The only reason they need this much guard out would be a whole pack of hungry jaguars.

However, judging by the number of Narcos' dead bodies that Jade had encountered in the mud along the way, the reason for the many guards was definitely not big cats.

Ghost.

He must’ve stealthily killed his way in, and somehow he got noticed by a guard, and they started to hunt him down with guns blazing.

Jade swallowed. The only thing she was relieved about was the fact that none of those lifeless bodies was Ghost’s. It had been 4 days since Laswell lost contact with him. Ghost being captured had the highest possibility at this point, as the guards might not be placed to guard against who’s outside.

But to contain who’s inside.

"Watcher-1 this is Sierra-4, twelve armed guards on the exterior. I'm thinking of infiltrating them from the south side of the building." Jade spoke with a low voice to her PTT, preparing herself to go in, picturing every single step of her feet towards the building, every motion of her limbs to reach the point of entrance.

"Copy that, Sierra-4, you may proceed. Keep updating me on the situation."

Just after Laswell’s confirmation, sounds of gunshots rang from inside the building. That shocked and confused Jade as she lowered her scope which she had used to scout the area. All the guards turned around to face the building as more shots were fired from the inside. She could hear their loud chatters and shoutings through their radios, panic was written all over their faces as most of them ran inside to check the situation.

Jade couldn’t quite hear what the guards were talking about as their voices were muffled by the rain, but one thing she could clearly hear in Spanish was,

‘The prisoner escaped!’

Ghost was fighting his way out.

"Watcher-1, I hear gunshots from the inside. I suspect it's Ghost." Jade spoke with urgency in her voice.

"Copy that, Sierra-4. It's your move. You need to go in and help him." Laswell replied.

"Way ahead of ya."

"Good luck."

She scoffed, half-afraid and half-amused, taking aim with her rifle again as the guards were lowered to five. It was equipped with a suppressor, and taking out the dumbfounded guards outside was an easy fit. Their heads exploded upon impact with her bullets before collapsing to the ground, leaving the exterior unguarded. It was finally time for her to get inside.

To finally see him.

'See you tomorrow, Lottie.'

Ghost had said before he softly kissed her on her cheek, promising to ice skate and eat Korean barbecue with her on the 15th of February, only for her to be left disappointed when she received a text from him the next morning that he’ll be going on a mission. This mission.

Jade gritted her teeth at the memory, "I'm going in."

Rushing forward to the entrance of the building, She used her feet to silently press herself to the cement walls, the sound of gunshots was still going, albeit muffled. It’s like the sounds were coming from below.

Basement.

Loading her HK416, Jade infiltrated the area. She perceived at least four armed people in the main room, all looking towards one particular hallway while muttering nervously in Spanish, which she immediately suspected was the way to where Ghost was. Throwing a stun grenade inside, five bodies quickly fell to the ground from her shots.

Suddenly, another group of armed narcos came out of another room from the northern side, opening fire towards Jade while she was reloading. A bullet went past her shoulder, the sound of it ripping the air around it left a ringing sound on her ear. She could do nothing but quickly hide herself from the incoming rain of bullets behind a wall. The narcos emptied their mags like their fingers were glued to the trigger. It seemed like they were not properly trained.

When they were reloading, Jade took another flashbang and threw the can to the middle of the group. Quickly canting her aim, her rifle couldn't pick a better time to be jammed, prompting her to curse and switch to the pistol on her hips on the right and picked up her karambit blade with her left.

While the guards were stunned, it became muscle memory from there. Taking out three front-most people with the gun, using another as a shield from the incoming aimless fire, slitting the throat, and then another Narco in the face with the butt of the gun before forcing her blade up to the under jaw.

Having cleared the main room, Jade huffed, quickly fixing the jammed rifle, and proceeded by silently going even further into the building.

There was a long hallway with a number of doors along them. Jade smacked one door open, only to see white-coloured blocks of drugs on a table, and judging from the colour, cocaine must be the identity of the drug. She checked each and every one of the doors and found the same things. This building was a drug warehouse; a place where the drugs were stored before their export or distribution for sale. At first, she couldn’t discern for sure if this facility was indeed owned by the Las Almas drug cartel, but when she looked upon the notable stamp of El Sin Nombre’s skull, her doubt vanished.

Jade then moved further into the hallway and reached an intersection, where another set of gunshots and screams found her ears. Her legs brought her closer to the noise, finding a stairway downwards to the basement area. She quickly descended the stairs, finding herself surrounded by a dirty, poorly dug tunnel. Nevertheless, the ex-MI6 focused on her objective and ran to the source of the sound, when she finally reached the source of all the ruckus.

She turned from a corner with her aim up on an intersection, finding Ghost with his mask on, fighting four men at once, below them were the bodies of Narcos that he had killed prior. With a knife in one hand and his own pistol in the other, he stabbed a Narco in the neck and used his body as a shield from the incoming bullets. He then threw the knife straight at his assaulter’s face as Jade saw the other two taking aim at him. Upon reflex, Jade shot down the remaining Narcos, leaving Ghost the one standing alone in the tunnel seemingly dumbfounded at what just happened right in front of him.

With relief washing over her, Jade rushed towards Ghost, finding him still standing, still fighting, still alive. “Ghost!”

Only to be welcomed by the barrel of his gun aiming straight at her.

Before Ghost could pull his trigger, Jade’s reflex kicked in and defeated her own sadness and sorrow of not seeing him for more than two months, and leapt to his side, grabbing the barrel of the firearm away from her. She then used her speed and abundance of energy to kick his ankle strong enough to push Ghost off his balance. He fell down to the ground with a loud thud on his back. Jade kicked the pistol out of his hand, before putting her whole weight to press on his entire figure.

Still, Ghost was known for his superior combat ability and survival instinct. His hand found another knife on his hip holster, ready to stab the person who was holding him down.

“Simon!”

The sound of his first name stopped his knife on its track, stopping right beside her neck – a few mere inches before blood could’ve been spilt. And just after he heard his name, he felt a soft touch on his uninjured cheek.

Jade had opened his mask, revealing his face in the open. With how skilled and lethal Ghost was as an operator, she never thought she’d ever see Ghost in this state. His left cheek and eye were swollen, and there were traces of blood running down his temple. Even though black in colour, his clothes had darker spots where only blood could stain them. He had his plate carrier and his knife holsters on, but they too were stained with blood.

And his eyes, it was filled with rampage, pure anger and wild want for blood. Yet it was unfocused, like a blind beast ready to get rid of anyone standing in his way.

Imprisonment. Torture.

“It’s me. It’s me. I’m here for you. You’re okay.” He blinked a number of times, and the red fog that had been clouding his vision disappeared, finding the face of the woman he loved right above him.

“You’re okay now. I’m here. Please, it’s over, Simon.” Her shaky voice continued, desperation filling her tone. Her green eyes were already brimming with tears threatening to fall down. “It’s over.” She breathed, hoping that somehow, her voice could bring him back.

“...Midget?”

Hearing her nickname in his deep, hoarse voice was all the sign she needed. Ghost lowered his knife, and before he knew it, Jade dropped down to hug Ghost tightly, burying her face in his shoulders. She sobbed into the side of her neck, grasping his clothes with her fingers in relief. Finally, finally, he’s back in her arms. After days of anxious and dark thoughts about losing the only man she’s ever allowed herself to love, he’s finally here, in her arms.

However, that relief was short-lived as Ghost grabbed her shoulders and lifted her smaller figure away from him. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOIN’ HERE?!”

That response startled her, “WH– I’M HERE TO SAVE YOU, YOU BIG BOZO!”

“YOU SHOULD NOT BE HERE!”

Jade then wrestled her way out of Ghost’s weak hands, “YOU WENT MIA FOR DAYS!”

“FUCKIN’ HELL–” Trying to sit up abruptly turned out to be a big mistake as a sharp pain burst out from his side, making him grunt out loud. Noticing this, Jade held him up before he fell back down to the floor. She then glanced to his side, and there, she caught sight of a fresh graze wound on his side. Observing him further, she found a crudely tied, blood-stained bandage wrapped around his right shoulder. Judging by the sight of it, this might be the lucky shot that had subdued Ghost and made the Narcos manage to capture him.

Nevertheless, they needed to get out of this building before reinforcements arrived. Seeing the condition he was in, he'll need some assistance to even stand now. fighting off the reinforcement would be impossible. “This warehouse – where’s the supervisor?”

“I gutted him.” He growled, hatred filling his voice. She could easily deduce that the supervisor was the one who had been inflicting these wounds to him.

And so, she used all her strength to lift and help Ghost stand up. "Can you walk?"

"I can–" he stumbled to the wall, using his pained arms to support himself up. "Fuck…" It had been four days since he went MIA. That meant four days of badly treated wounds, blood spilling from the tortures, and no food. Still, he managed to escape and fight his way out, leaving dead bodies as his footsteps.

Such mental fortitude was something to be feared indeed.

"Alright, come 'ere, Big Man." Jade sneaked her hand behind his back and circled his arm around her shoulder before assisting him to quickly walk out of the damned warehouse. To hell with these drugs and the people inside.

"Watcher-1, this is Sierra-4.” Pressing the PTT, Jade contacted the CIA. “I've secured Bravo 0-7. I repeat, Bravo 0-7 is secured."

—------

Prior to arriving at the warehouse, Jade had located a rickety old cabin inside the forest. It was placed near a river far away from the warehouse. Though it’s not fully hidden, it worked well as a resting place for the night as it was pretty deep inside the forest, and of course, because there’s no way that the man that she was currently holding up could walk all the way to the nearby city.

Stepping into the wooden floors of the cabin, Jade glanced to the side where she found a single bed placed on the edge of the room. “There’s a bed there. Let’s get you down.” Straining her voice from holding Ghost’s weight for the entire 30-minute walk there, she finally sat Ghost down on the bed before he collapsed to his back, panting heavily and clearly out of fuel.

“Fuck… I’m beat.” He managed to breathe out with his sore voice.

“Here, drink some water. Drink all of it since we have a river in front.” Jade gave her own canteen to him, to which he chugged down to the last drop while still lying down.

In the meantime, Jade tinkered with her radio, pressing down on her PTT to contact Laswell.

“Watcher-1 this is Sierra-4 do you copy?”

Not long, the radio buzzed, “Sierra-4 this is Watcher-1, send traffic.”

“We’re currently holed up in an old cabin near a river about four clicks northwest of the warehouse. His radio was destroyed by a bullet, so that might be why his comms suddenly disappeared.”

A loud sigh of relief could be heard on the radio, “That’s great news. How is he looking?”

She took a glance at Ghost, who was still laying back while covering his eyes with the back of his hand. “Beat. But alive. Very lean. Injuries and wounds all over. He’d worn his mask when I found him, but…” A thought had been weighing on her mind the whole way they walked to the cabin. “If he got captured, then the first thing the Narcos did was obviously to take off his mask. Is his identity compromised now?”

“No. It’s still the same as ever. Even if they saw his face - as long as Ghost didn’t give out his name - there’s no record of his face anywhere. Every earlier visual identity had also been redacted.” Jade raised her eyebrows. So that’s how he maintained his anonymity all this time.

“That sounds like him. Anyway, we’re pretty deep in the woods. Sun’s going down, and the nearest town is around 15 kilos from here. I think we need to lay low for a while.”

“Copy that. I’ll see what I can do for your exfil, I’ll be in touch. You guys should rest for a while.” Laswell finally said, a tone of calm in her voice. “And thank you so much, Jade. I’m sorry for dragging you back again.”

Jade could only scoff at that. “It’s fine. Besides, if you’d sent out anyone else to find him… I’d be a wee~ bit offended.”

“Oh? Is this what I think it is?” She could clearly hear the wide smile on the CIA agent’s face.

“I’m gonna go patch the big man up now. Sierra-4 out.” Finally finishing her report with Laswell’s chuckle as the last thing she heard, Jade sighed, watching the strong and steady flow of the river below. It was freezing, but at least they had shelter. Now all she needed to do was keep Ghost alive and comfortable while keeping tabs with Laswell.

—

"Lottie, why are you here."

Ghost’s strained voice pulled Jade’s attention from the wound that she was currently treating on his shoulder. That crudely-tied bandage was not replaced at all after his capture and left a terrible-looking injury, which by the look of it, was obviously infected that when she’d pulled it, the skin that already tried to heal got pulled along with it.

"What? I thought I said to you already. Your radio cut off abruptly, so Laswell sent me out to find you." Jade answered, still dabbing cotton onto the lacerated skin caused by the bullet.

"Fuckin' hell…"

That tone irked her. "You sound like you don't want me here."

"That's right! I do NOT want you here!" Ghost yelled to her, making her lean back on the chair she was sitting on and stopped what she was doing. His angered face was a new sight for her.

"What?! Are you telling me to just stay back while I know you were captured?!"

“Laswell knew for a fact that this was not my first time going MIA. She did not have to tell you about it because as you could see, I got out on my own.” He told her harshly, that tone starting to aggravate her.

“You were missing! Can’t you see that I was worried for you?!” Jade countered, trying to keep her composure while he palmed his face in visible frustration, “More than two months you’ve been gone for a mission alone, and now that I finally have news about you, I was told that your radio cut off with gunshots!”

“You should’ve just stayed home and get on with your days. I never asked for you to come here.” Gravely he told her as he saw Jade’s eyes start to turn sombre. Those words came out of his mouth on their own.

Deep inside, Ghost knew what was coming – He needed to stop himself.

“I found you battered and bruised, Simon! You can’t just expect me to–”

"I don't need you to save me!” He raised his voice harshly, shocking her.

No. That was not what he wanted to say.

He knew; he truly knew it was the opposite.

He didn't want her to get hurt.

"I don't need you!”

Her face was everything he needed to know that he fucked up. Ghost saw her face turn to dread like her heart just got stabbed a thousand times over, that after everything she did, after everything she felt – it was only for him to tell her those words.

For a moment the only thing they heard was the pouring rain outside.

Before Ghost saw the woman in front of him grit her teeth, seeming like she chose to not believe what he just said.

“There were at least a dozen armed guards outside! What did you think you could do with those wounds?!" It was her turn to raise her voice, “If I hadn't been there to find you, what could you do with a gun an a knife?!"

It was the last thing that snapped him. Ghost ignored all the pain in his arms to grab onto her shoulders,

“I CAN’T LOSE YOU!”

And just like that, Jade gasped as she blinked. His grasp on her shoulder felt firm yet shaky, and she couldn’t tell if it was because of the searing pain or from the emotion he felt, as this is the first time she saw Ghost with that expression. Maskless, bruises all over, bloodshot eyes brimming with tears, and a face that had desperation and sorrow painted all over it.

He started with a low voice, but the emotions in his words still remained, “You’ve left this life for a reason, Lottie. And for a good one. Think of your mother, your father, your friends, who love you and care for you! What if you get hurt alone inside this fucking rainforest?! What if you die, huh?! What do I say to your parents?!"

"What if you die?!" Jade countered, trying to make sense of his words.

"I don't fucking care if I die!"

"You say that as if no one is waiting for you to come home! I DO!” Jade grabbed both of his hands from her shoulders, gathering them with her own. ”I love you!"

Her action surprised Ghost, but more than anything, the last three words felt like an epiphany.

"You think Kate should've just shut up about it and left me in the dark?! Well, that's just fucking stupid, Ghost. If you think that you did this for me, then you're wrong!” She shouted bitterly, her scowl taking over her face in such a way that it looked out of place, tears already brimming in her eyes.

"You think I didn't know that your missions are dangerous? I know that! That's why I can't just stand back while I know I have the full capability to find you! If it means that I can finally have you back, then to hell with my retirement! Great, now I'm crying!" All that stress and frustration of finding him these last four days came out of her in the form of tears streaming down her cheek. The thought of finding him beaten up, all bloody, or even worse, lifeless on the ground had been eating her mind. Nevertheless, she moved her body to find him, clinging to a desperate hope that he was still alive somehow.

Ghost could only watch as Jade buried her face in her palms, her sobs muffled by her hands. "We had a date, Simon…" That sentence felt like a thousand knives impaling his heart. He remembered being very excited that early morning, anticipating the ‘date’ with her. He remembered himself being so happy and delighted for the date, heck, he even fucking looked through his wardrobe to find the best fit for the occassion, only to be left feeling empty when he suddenly got a call to go on a mission. He could still recall how shaky his hands were when texting Jade that he couldn’t make it for the date.

"I was waiting for it. It's my first date, ever. So I'm sorry if I'm a little excited to see you, alright?" Jade raised her head to face him again, revealing her messy hair, red eyes, and cheeks smeared by tears. “I can’t lose you too."

Ghost didn't know if it was because of his courage or something else, but he moved his hand and put it right above hers, gently enveloping her hands. "I don't want you to get hurt, especially because of me." He started, looking softly into her eyes, "I'm sorry."

Hearing that broke something in him, as for once in his life, someone waited for him to come home. Someone wanted him to be fine, and it felt… foreign.

Now, that person was sitting before him. The woman he loved, and the one who loved him back, more than he deserved.

The fact that Ghost initiated the touch made butterflies fly wildly inside her stomach. The temperature of his skin was quite alarming though, so she kept that in mind. "Well thank you, for your consideration, but please,” Jade lifted her arm to wipe her face from the tears aggressively, sniffing her nose. “I can't have you just promise me a date one day and then disappear the next. I won't let you ghost me." Her lips pouted in a way that made him chuckle. He might go crazy if she kept doing this. "If it means finding you, then getting hurt is nothing. If you went MIA again, then I will go out and find you again."

Ghost still felt the pain all over his body, that argument took all the spare energy that he got. Meanwhile, Jade took the sewing kit from the side table, getting them ready to close Ghost's laceration.

"Also, put some credit on my name, alright? You know I can take care of myself, Ghost." Jade muttered while taking the forceps.

"I almost stabbed you though." He replied.

"Ah." That only occurred to her now. When he was fighting off the Narcos, he thought she was an enemy and launched a knife straight to her neck. "You were in full survival mode since the whole warehouse was trying to kill you. I understand."

"Shit… what would I say to your parents if I'd killed you?"

"Hmmm. 'Sorry, Sir, Ma'am. I killed your daughter by accident.’, and then your body would never be seen ever again, perhaps."

That got a light laugh out of him, "We're a crazy lot aren't we?"

"Damn right we are."

There was barely any alcohol to hold the pain as Jade sutured his wounds close, and even though she had mastered the medical suturing techniques, the searing pain was going to be there to stay.

All the while her hands work, she started again, "What did they do to you?"

Ghost flinched at the question. She really hoped it wasn't something too bad. From her observations, he was badly injured on the left side, which meant he must've been punched and kicked quite a lot by the Narcos. The right side had way fewer injuries, but the little lacerations on his head looked like something sharp.

He took a deep breath, "After they caught me, I was brought to the basement and they tied my hands on my back to a pole with a rope. My feet as well. They interrogated me about who I am and my ties with Alejandro Vargas. Of course I shut my mouth the entire time."

Jade still looked at him, sending him a signal that it was not was she was asking about. Ghost sighed, before answering again, "It wasn't much, just punches and kicks, splashed water on me. The leader was a huge twat though. He smashed a bottle of alcohol on my head." Ah. There's the answer to her questions.

"And I'm assuming you used the shards to cut the ropes to escape?" She inquired, her hands still working.

"Yeah."

"...You okay?"

He always hated the question, but coming from her, it felt different. Ghost knew how she had experienced the same things before considering they work on similar grounds. And if he wanted to be honest on the answer, she won't get much. "I'm mostly annoyed at their leader the whole time. Just thinking of how to get out of there." Ghost finally answered, "I've experienced far worse. If anything, they lacked creativity."

Jade sighed, not the worst answer. Either he was hiding the mental trauma or he's just that dulled to tortures. From the outside he looked fine and he acted like this was just another business day, but she could never guess what's going on inside his mind.

That last sentence made her chuckle though. "What do you think they should've done to make you speak?"

Ghost looked like he really considered it, "...To make me speak? No idea. Probably your favourite method."

"My method?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Nail-pulling."

"I--" Oh good heavens, he'd set 'nail-pulling' as her favoured method of tortures. "Okay, if and only if you have the right tools, alright."

He let out a chuckle, prompting her to laugh as well as she finished the suture on his wounds.

—---

Cleaning up Ghost's injuries was relatively easy, as he didn't have any lethal wounds that required urgent care and deep medical knowledge. Still, watching him hiss and grunt as she sewed his lacerations was hard to do. She kept mumbling soft "Sorry, sorry." to him in a vain attempt to soothe his pain. At some point, it appeared that Ghost was completely out of fuel and dozed off sitting up while she was cleaning his skin from the blood and dirt. Closing his wounds was only the first step of first-aid care because what came after could be harder to treat since he had that infected wound on his shoulder.

He hadn't eaten in days, was completely out of energy, had a significant blood loss, bruises all over his body, and that infected wound had finally shown its damned effect: fever.

Jade sighed. As much as he needed the rest, he needed to eat. She'd brought some antibiotic meds, but in order to have them he had to eat first. Her legs brought her to the cabinet near the end of the bed, fortunately finding a good clean sheet of the blanket. Though, it wasn't thick enough for her liking, plus it was pretty small in size and would barely cover his large frame. Beggars can’t be choosers, so she draped the cloth onto his shoulders and his legs, making sure his figure was covered.

Opening her backpack, Jade fished out two sets of MREs, along with a ration heater. With his wounds finally dressed up and he's sleeping soundly, she walked out of the cabin to the riverside, filling her canteen with fresh river water. Pouring the water into the ration heater along with the MREs inside, Jade walked back to the doorway to avoid the rain, waiting patiently as she wiped the rainwater off of her skin.

While she was letting the heating pack do its job, she sat back on the wooden floor, slowly untying her braids that had gone messy from the actions and the rain. Fully getting the braids undone, her hair finally became loose completely, falling on her shoulders, back, and chest in the most chaotic way possible that Jade had to run her hands through her thick hair to detangle the mess.

"Lottie?"

Ghost's weak voice startled her, making her turn around and saw the man himself standing right behind her, blanket around his shoulders. “Ghost?! What– you should’ve just slept! You can’t stand just yet–”

“Relax,” He said softly, sitting down beside her with visible struggle. “This isn’t my first rodeo. I won’t die from moving 10 steps.”

Seeing how he coughed wetly made her pout in disagreement. She still thought he needed to stay in bed. “How are you feeling though?”

"...like death.”

“I thought so. Your temp was concerning. May I touch your forehead? I have to feel your temp." Ghost nodded, still, her soft touch on his forehead and neck caught him off guard, as she stared at him trying to concentrate on measuring the heat of his skin. “You’re burning up! Dammit.” Jade exclaimed upon feeling the rise of his fever, it baffled her how he still had the energy to stand up with all those wounds.

Out of nowhere, Ghost felt pressure on his chest, before realizing that it was Jade pressing her ears to his thorax.

He froze right there and there, turning into stone like Medusa just stared him down. Ghost sucked his teeth and looked up to hold in his blush. He knew a hundred per cent that she was checking his breathing for that terrible wet cough he let out, but his brain had turned into a mush, his heart beating so fast like he just ran a fucking marathon. She definitely could hear his racing heartbeat, but no matter how much he tried to tell his heart to stop fucking beating like there's a whole damned carnival inside his chest, it was proven futile.

“Take a deep breath.” Her voice was the only thing that snapped him out of his thoughts, doing what she told him to do.

After hearing the air going in and out of his lungs a number of times, Jade finally leaned back again. “Yup. I’m no medic, but I can hear pneumonia coming when I hear one. You need to go back to bed.” She stood up and tried to pull him up, which was to no avail as he was still dumbfounded on the event that just happened. "The sun's setting down and the rain won't stop anytime soon. It'll get colder than this."

“I just got here–”’

“Back. To. Bed.”

Has she always been this demanding? He never liked being told what to do when it's not from someone of higher rank, but he could surely get used to this one. Ghost couldn't help the small smile on the corner of his lips as he stood up, walking towards the hard bed slowly before sitting down again. She gathered the steaming rations on her hands and sat back on the chair, his heart swole in a way he never thought it could.

"I brought chicken sausage and… pasta bolognese. You can choose whatever and I'll take the other one." Jade said, opening the lids to let the heat out while waiting for Ghost's answer, but when he didn't say anything, only gazing at the foods, a thought clicked in her mind. "Or or or, you can have both of them, if you want. I'm sure you're starving."

"...What about you?" Yep, she guessed right. He wanted both of them. Big man needed a big meal.

"Don't worry about me. You haven't eaten in days. I already had mine before coming to the facility, so I'm good, I promise."

A gulp, "Can I have both?"

"Sure."

----------

He’s back under that suffocating, smothering coffin under the ground. Trapped alone in the dark, he felt his heart beat racing, pounding against his chest that he could hear it on his ears.

He couldn’t breathe.

He’s afraid.

Ghost tried to bang his fist against the roof, but it wouldn’t budge. Even until his arms were bruised, until blood came out, he felt that the earth would swallow him whole any second, before Ghost felt the wooden base of the coffin disappear into dust, which made his body fall into a deep, bottomless void, getting farther and farther from the coffin.

Just as he thought that he’d forever fall without end, his back hit the ground with a great force, waking him up from his nightmare. Ghost opened his eyes with a jolt of his entire body, breathing fast and laboured as if he’d just gained back his ability to take air in.

"Hey."

The familiar voice called to him, prompting the man to focus his blurred vision, finding Jade. He’s finally awake enough to register that this is no longer inside the coffin where he was buried alive, but inside a wooden cabin deep in a rainforest. The rain still falling outside, the sun long gone, only the moon to accompany them. His surroundings were dark, save for the soft yellow lighting from a portable bonfire on the bedside table. Ghost was laying on his side facing her, nothing to support his head from the absence of pillows.

He then saw that his hand was grabbing Jade’s wrist in a death grip, almost shaking. She looked like she was startled by the sudden grip of her wrist when she'd just been wiping the sweat off his face with a handkerchief, but she didn’t show any sign of panic or daze, just calmness inside her eyes. "Nightmare?"

Ghost released his grip and answered with an alarming wet cough, his breathing starting to sound difficult, before weakly muttering, "Why aren't you asleep?"

"You can have the bed, I'll sleep on the floor–" He tried to wake up before being pushed down back to the bed on his side.

"Your fever got worse, you were sweating, and shivering as well. That infected wound on your shoulder added to the problem." Ghost might not be in his best condition, but he could hear her worry as clear as day.

She looked messy with the very long red locks of hers undone, contrasting with her usual tidy and orderly appearance. And to be frank, she’d had that worried tone since the second she found him in the warehouse, since she heard that he was missing, and probably since the day he texted her that he’d had to go on a mission.

"That is total nonsense! I'm not the one who's beaten up right now!” The logic must have left him because of the fever. Did he really want to sleep on the hard wooden floor with those bruises all over his body?!

The usual Ghost would retort some sarcasm towards her, but all he did right now was to stare at her. Jade would've thought that he's completely out of it from the illness, until he mumbled,

"...You should let your hair down more often."

"...wHaT?” her voice cracked at his words. Why was he talking about her hair all of a sudden?

A light cough, “I said you should let your hair down more.”

“Wh– Why?" She chuckled, half amused and half confused. "Look at them. My hair's a mess if I let it down. It's really hard to take care of, especially in the wind. Let it touch the rain, and air drying it is basically a recipe for disaster." The ginger said while rubbing her heavily tangled hair. She had intended to brush them when Ghost was asleep earlier, but she must admit that she didn’t have the energy to do it. Days of tracking and helping him had taken more of her than she’d expected.

"That's precisely why." Ghost started, still eyeing her face softly.

"...What do you mean?"

"Beautiful.” He confessed, "You're beautiful when your hair's a mess, so let it down."

A pause as he tried to rack up an answer in his jumbled brain. "It's not sudden. I've always liked it."

The sentence baffled, perplexed, and shocked her. Why did he say that? Why was he doing this?? What kind of dream or nightmare did he have?? Jade’s jaw dropped to the floor, her face turned almost as red as her hair because of that particular sentence. Ghost had never been one for talking, let alone compliments. That was the normal, healthy Ghost, then. So if he's on the opposite condition…

"I– What's with the sudden flattery??"

No one ever complimented her hair. Since she was a baby, a child, a kid in the orphanage, she kept being skipped by potential parents because of her striking red hair.

Jade recalled how she would see a couple shake their heads as they whispered among each other, quickly looking at the other orphans. Her brothers and sisters come in and go to their new parents, while she stayed. And for that reason, she grew to dislike – hate her hair, only until recently did she ever see a good in them.

And now, this man just admitted that he had always liked her hair since the day he met her, albeit… in a feverish, delirious state?

"T-thank you for saying that, Simon." Finally finding the courage to react, Jade continued, "but anyway, how are you feeling? Dizzy? Nauseous?"

"...cold." Ghost mumbled.

For sure that thin blanket would be doing anything in the cold rain. There was no more piece of clothing or any blankets left inside the house to use. She had started a little portable bonfire on the bedside table to give the room some form of luminescence as the sun was long gone, but it wouldn’t be enough to stop his shiverings.

Holding his eyes open was already a heavy task for him, but this cold felt like a thousand knives on his skin. He wanted to sleep, God, he wanted to sleep. He’s exhausted, except getting trapped in that coffin and buried alive inside that dream was the last thing he wanted to experience right now. Getting air into his lungs was also a burden to his chest. Even with the painkillers and antibiotic Jade had given him, his wounds hurt all over.

However, this is nothing.

Ghost had experienced this before, far, far worse than this, and he was still alive. He’ll tank through the cold, he could endure any pain.

It’s the same as ever.

Nothing’s different.

Had he ever heard that kind of sentence before?

"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

Jade softly muttered to him, looking at him not with a look of pity, but of compassion and willingness to help.

"Do you mind a– um… A cuddle?” The woman sitting beside his bed said nervously, prompting him to look at her face. "Shared body temperature. I suppose it's effective in this situation."

He took that back.

It's different now.

“...No.” He replied shortly.

"Really?”

“Yeah.”

“O-okay! The bed’s small, can you face the other way?” She asked, to which he nodded before he used all the energy he had left in his body to lie on his other side. With heavy clumsiness, he finally faced the wooden wall. The light of the moon shone through the window, hitting his face softly. Not long, he felt a dip on the other side of the bed. Jade had climbed on the bed and fixed the thin blanket to cover his figure properly. Ghost could feel her presence on his back, looming behind him. He didn’t know what to do, obviously. He never really shared a bed with anyone in a long time, let alone a woman. It’s almost pathetic.

“Can I… wrap my arm around you?” Jade asked hesitantly to the back of his head. “I–I don’t mean anything weird, just to warm you up! Like I said I love you and all – and I do mean that – but in case you’re not comfortable with me hugging you I will totally understand and—”

“I said I don’t mind it.” Ghost cut her off before she could blabber more.

“Okay… I’ll just. Put my left arm above you. Like this.” Lifting her arm, she then gently put her wrist on his shoulder, just barely beyond his side line. “This okay?”

“...Hm.” She’s pressed to him. She’s affirmatively pressed to his back. Her warmth instantly traveled to his entire figure, pleasantly so.

“Good. That’s really great, yeah. Your shoulder is really high, wow." He couldn’t say anything to that. Is that a compliment? “While we’re at it, lift your head up a little bit.”

Even though it confused him, he did what she told, and an arm sneaked its way past his cheek and placed it firmly there, and before he could ask her what was she trying to do, he got his answer. “I’m your pillow.”

Ghost let out a chuckle at her retort, and to be honest, he didn’t have any strength left to refuse the offer. His neck hurt and his head felt dizzy without a pillow, so he dropped his head right then and there on Jade’s bicep, and what she didn’t expect was the fact that he deliberately scooted back even further, finally clinging to her figure – a relaxed huff leaving him.

And just like that, Jade’s assumption that Ghost didn’t like hugs went down the bloody drain. She had to bite her lips in order to hold in the scream inside her. God, he must’ve felt her racing heartbeat on his back. He sounded like a literal puppy with that last huff. If she has a third arm she would’ve loved to pet his hair.

------

The rain hadn’t stopped since they arrived at the cabin. The cold seeped through the woods, piercing through Jade’s skin as she made Ghost have the blanket. Other than that, the woman couldn’t deny the soreness on her arm as his head was pretty heavy. She didn’t mind it at all though, as long as he was comfortable, a sore arm was nothing compared to what he must be feeling.

It’s been about an hour since she climbed the bed to cuddle with him. Jade could really tell a lot about his condition from this distance. He’s really hot to the touch, his shoulders moved up and down in a quite fast pace. Still, it seemed that the shared body temperature worked as his shivers stopped. Was he already asleep?

Jade moved the hand that was on his shoulder to the front of his face – waving it up and down.

"I'm still up." His deep voice startled her.

Shit. He’s still awake. "S– Sorry. Just checking."

Meanwhile Jade was waiting for him to sleep, Ghost couldn’t even bring himself to sleep, for fuck’s sake. And not because of the nightmare, but because of her presence on his back was all he could think about. He felt relaxed, but not relaxed at the same time. It’s like his entire being felt safe in her arms and presence, yet his mind thought that he didn’t deserve this. Because she had searched for him, she had to leave her home, family, and friends again, and even though Jade had told him that she would always go and find him – and the things he said to her – he still felt like an arse.

"Lottie."

Jade noticed the name, prompting her to blink. "Mm? You okay?"

“Thank you... for saving me. And about what I said,” A brief pause, “I've hurt you. I'm sorry."

She stayed silent, looking at the back of his head. Ghost was always a blunt person, and it wasn't the first hurtful thing that he'd said to her. Calling her a midget was one thing, but saying that he didn't need her?

She knew he was in immense pain and under heavy mental duress from the imprisonment, but if what he said was true…

"Did you mean it? What you said?" Jade finally replied back, questioning him about the words he'd said. She wanted to know if he really mean what he said. She needed to know.

It took a few seconds for Ghost to answer, seeming like he was preparing himself. "No. Quite the opposite."

Hearing those words from him felt like a earning medal, prompting a smile coming from her lips. "Thank you, Simon. For staying alive.”

“Will you forgive me?”

“I forgive you, because..." Jade lightly sighed behind him, "I need you too.''

And he thought he had a cold heart. That one simple sentence coming out from the one person he allowed himself to love after such a long, long time, made his heart - no, his entire being melt right then and there, in her arms.

A mosquito decided to land on Jade’s hand, making her sway the bug away. “Oof, there’s some bugs here.”

"...What's the bugs' favourite band?"

Oh great heavens. A pun at a time like this? "...what is it?"

"Bee Gees."

"Oh that's goooood." She must admit that his timing was immaculate. "You ever watch Bee Movie though?"

"...Only bee I know in movies is Bumblebee in Transformers."

"Yeah well. Suits you I guess. And good for you for being oblivious about the Bee Movie."

"What kind of movie is that?" He asked.

"A movie. About bees suing humans."

"The fuck?"

"Yea yea yea we'll watch it when we get home. Now sleep." Jade chuckled. "Good night, Beanpole."

"Goodnight, Midget."

"I'm right here if you need me."

*****

"I know."

It's finally here!! To be continued in Part 2!

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