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nayaesworld · 19 days ago

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The Beast in the Woods

Warnings:SMUT,breeding,supernatural situations

Aaron Pierre X OC!Willow

Part 2

In which the lion and lamb fall deeply in love with each other and bind their beings as one…

Life felt truly and utterly complete for Willow. The handsome man that harbored a beast deep inside him had swept her off her feet and made her feel so bubbly and warm inside. Even though most days she felt obsessed with him, he assured her he felt the same way as she did maybe triple fold. The two were connected at the hip, when one moved the other moved. A graceful display of love. Her scrapbook in her living room now filled with pictures of them taken from her digital camera, pictures that somehow captured how they truly felt in the moment they were taken. Willow was at peace, happy, and in love… she said the last part a lot to herself sometimes it didn’t feel real. She loved this man, loved everything he stood for and loved how he worshiped her. She was a goddess to him.

Draped in one of Terry’s shirts she crept into her kitchen where she heard him rustling around.

“I can hear you my love… you couldn’t ever hide from me.” She smacked her lips as he laughed aloud at her attempt to creep up and scare him.

“You’re no fun… you never met me get you.” She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest giggling as he reached out for her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She sighed to herself as he sucked and licked at her neck, his large hands groping and palming her cheeks through her black boyshorts.

“Mmm.. but I always get you, and I get you good every time” And get her he did, Terry had managed to completely turn Willow out. She was eager to learn how to please him, and he was eager to teach her.

They fucked often. On every surface and every position. Everytime she thought she had been put in every position possible, he’d bend her body a new way. Willow was severely surprised that she hadn’t fallen pregnant yet. Would it be so bad if she did…?

“It’s not fair… you have your hearing and smell. I could be down the road and you’d still hear me before you ever saw me!” She exclaimed and giggled as he tickled her against her butcher block island.

Her hands found his warm face and she caressed him, peering into his ever expressive eyes.

“Did I tell you how much I love you today?” She playfully questioned him while trying her best to jump into his skin. Close was never close enough for her and she needed to touch him whenever he was near her.

“Mmm… you did my baby… but I’m never tired of hearing it. If I said I loved you more would you believe me… girl I’m obsessed with you..” He squeezed her into him, soft and content was it anything better?

A heavy downpour covered the cozy cottage and the woodlands, hard white rain coming from the sky in angry spurts of water. Willow loved the rain though, the sound would serenade and calm her. It nurtured her plants and everything around her, she was grateful. But this weather called for something hot and hearty, and her vegetable garden had sprouted nice juicy tomatoes and a tomato soup with a grilled cheese sandwich sounded divine.

Opposed to getting her freshly washed curls wet again, she sent Terry out to snatch a few tomatoes from their green vines. She laid her tomatoes,garlic,onions,and bell peppers onto a baking pan to prepare to roast them in her oven. She cracked black pepper and salt on top and slid them into her preheated oven, setting a timer on her phone she glanced around for Terry.

“Baby?…where did this man go so quickly” She chewed her bottom lip as she looked all over the house for him. For a man of such size and height he always managed to evade her, quiet as a church mouse and cunning as a panther.

Finally the sound of running water led her to her bathroom. Pushing open the door her dark brows scrunched as she finally made out his massive form fully clothed and sitting against the shower wall soaking wet as his head laid in his palms and he breathed heavily.

“Terry baby oh my god..Are you ok?!” She rushed to fling open the glass door, ice cold water stinging her hand.

Not caring about the icy water raining down onto her, she grasped his head into her hands and gasped. His skin was searing hot and his usual soft green eyes had been replaced with honey gold ones with blown pupils. He breathed heavily and raggedly in her presence, scaring her.

“Willow baby…please move away.. I-I don’t trust myself right now… you need to leave me be.” His words came out rushed and she was confused on whether or not she’d be able to leave him in this state as he requested.

It took everything in her to turn away from him and rush to her kitchen to shut off the oven, she didn’t need a fire starting.

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Terry didn’t see this coming. He thought he’d get away with loving Willow and his instincts would sit on the back burner while he restricted himself. A joke was what it was, because he had known better than to suppress his nature, yet he couldn’t bear to put it all on her. His feelings for her were raw and real. Deep inside him he knew this day was coming, but primal instincts didn’t follow the human calendar so he had no time to prepare.

Heat had came for Terry. All of his kind had to experience it one day but none of them were ever truly prepared for the carnal experience. A Lycan in heat was a Lycan in love, a Lycan bound so tight by their mate that they could only see them; and no future without. Terry had felt all these things for Willow times infinity, he looked back often at the dull life he lived before her and realized he was never actually living; just existing.

Terry being in heat symbolized everything he truly felt for her and everything he wanted them to be, a husband to her; and a father to their future children. She was his soulmate and his supernatural soul had solidified that. There was no life for Terry without Willow and tonight he’d make sure she knew and believed that.

“Baby?… I know you wanted me to leave you… but I can’t, I need to know for sure if you’re ok!” His keen hearing allowed him to hear Willow’s honeyed voice over the loud shower.

Gathering himself his legs shook as he stood to his full height to turn off the water.Peering through the partition glass of the shower he watched her grab him a large fluffy white towel to dry off with.Stepping out of the shower he felt his hot skin cool off in her presence, she was the one; the only one.

“Let me help you please…you’re scaring me baby” he let her help him out of the soaking clothes he breathed in her sweet scent and let it take him away. Standing fully naked he grabbed the towel from her and wrapped it around his waist.

“Your eyes.. I’ve never seen them look like this before, does this have anything to do with what you are, being a Lycan?” Her curious hands ran up and down his body, seemingly checking for signs of harm on his body.

“I’m not afraid, I accepted you fully and completely a year ago when you showed up near my house… nothing is keeping me from you.” She continued on talking but stopped when she peered up into the intense gaze of his.

“I’ll tell you everything… starting with the fact that this is even happening to me right now is your fault.” A sly smirk graced Terry's face as he backed her into her room.

“My fault…bu-but how… what did I do?” The little gasp she let out made his dick swell just a little; he knew he would explode at the lightest touch.

“You little sneaky vixen… look at how you just seduced me and fucked up my head..and I just let you. This that you see in front of you is my body’s raw reaction to you.. I crave you so badly baby, I’m in love with you .” Terry watched as her pretty brown eyes seemed clouded by his words, and he burned to touch her.

“It’s all on you baby…you make me feel like this, it’s all solidified now…there’s no going back. I’m in heat, baby…my body is begging for me to make what we have a lifelong love…to marry you and give you my babies..” He let her slide her soft palms along his bulky arms and felt the tingles that were left behind. She leaned up on her tippy toes and kissed him beneath his ear and whispered.

“So do it..”

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Terry engulfed Willow into his heated embrace and began to slide his hands underneath his shirt that she was draped in. He felt her plump nipple pebble up under his touch as he tugged on them and ran the pads on his fingers over them.

“Hold the shirt up, let me eat my pussy.” Terry grumbled and sank down onto the plush cream carpet on her bedroom floor. He tugged down her boyshorts and she placed her hands on his shoulders to step out of them.

He placed her leg onto his built shoulders and let his pointer finger and thumb open the lips of her vulva. His plump lips gave open mouth kisses and he slowed his slurping and paced himself.

Willow was sweeter than any fruit or any treat he’d ever consumed, and he found it hard to control himself when they often tangled in the sheets.

“Ouu baby fuck…why are you eating my pussy like this?” Willow threw her head back and grinded her pussy across Terrys face.

“Mmm fuck mama feed me my pussy…I want you to nut.” Terry wagged his tongue back and forth as he sent Willow to another dimension with French kisses to her clit.

“Tell daddy you love him…I said tell daddy you fucking love him!” He nipped her inner thigh and stood to his feet.

“Ohh I love you..I-I love you so damn much!” Willow squeaked and held onto Terry as he carried her to her king sized bed.

“You about to get your money's worth out of this bed…I hope you know that. Might fuck you into the mattress mama..” Terry grabbed up a few plush pillows from her bed and placed them between the headboard and the wall, he didn’t want damage to the walls or paint.

The location of something very special came to the forefront of Terry’s mind; a ring. A pear shaped ring with a green quartz gemstone, a dazzling engagement ring that captured the beauty and love for greenery and nature that Willow held. A true embodiment of what Terry truly felt for her every passing day.

The ring normally sat in its box nestled in her nightstand, he had to move it often to be sure she never stumbled upon it and most days he just resorted to keeping it on his personal. He wanted the proposal to be huge and elaborate but today had taken him completely by surprise and his instincts urged to do it as soon as possible.

“Willow baby… forgive me for not giving you the absolute best when it comes to what I’m about to ask you, but I-I just couldn’t wait any longer. You know how much I love and care for you; how strongly my heart beats for you. Would you grant me the privilege of loving and caring for you for the rest of both of our lives…Willow will you marry me?”

He watched her big eyes fill with tears and she nodded her head quickly. “Yes yess I’ll marry you, I’ll marry you in every lifetime!” He hurried to grab the ring and hit onto his knees to place it onto her slim finger; it fit perfectly.

The shiny celadon green ring clashing with the creamy smooth brown skin of her hand was the perfect contrast, and she beamed internally and externally.

“You ready for some loving Mrs.Richmond?”

With a flirty smile and a bite of her lip she pulled him closer “Always ready Mr.Richmond !”

Promises of a 2025 baby had Terry flipping and tossing Willow every which way but loose,and the pillows behind the headboard? Useless. The bed squeaked and groaned under the ravenous couple who were hell bent on going straight through it. A permanent dent in the shape of them would be sure to form.

Hands locked with hers Terry rutted into her. “You want my babies… you want me to make you a mommy..hmm?” Expecting Willow to give him an answer right now was pure insanity as she shook and shuddered beneath him, the girl was literally dickmatized.

Rising slowly out of her stupor she locked her Legs around his hips. “Please daddy..yess I want you tooo, I want you to nut in me so badly!” Willow’s tongue slithered into the shell of his ear, nipping and sucking.

“Fuck me baby…harder. Uhn daddy my pussy…you’re so deep!” Opening his eyes to finally look down into hers he watched tears of pleasure cascade down her pretty face,her lip wedged between her teeth trying to quiet the loud screams in her throat.

“Mm mm let it out my baby… let daddy hear how good I’m fucking you…FUCK I can’t wait until you all swollen with MY babies!” Terry’s vision blurred and the veins in his neck protruded like they would pop from his strong neck. A loud sigh slipped from his mouth as his dick pushed out more cum than he’d ever thought he could produce, he was spent and he let his weight drop onto Willow.

He picked up her hand where the ring sat and kissed along her ring finger; his wife,his mate, and the future mother of his offspring. He lifted from her after some time and let his hot hand come down between them to press his palm onto her lower belly, almost like he was putting a spell on her womb to quicken her body into a pregnancy. His forehead sat in place of his hand and he pressed feather-like kisses to her soft belly, in a few weeks there’d be a baby forming inside.

“Thank you Willow. A lifetime of solitude would be worth fighting in every dimension if you were the end goal every time…I hope as your husband to one day pay you back tenfold for all you’ve made me feel and see in our time together.”

“What if I feel everything you just said? Before you I would’ve never imagined a love so sincere and sweet, it just didn’t seem possible for a girl like me…and yet here I am a wife to be with you by my side. It’s safe to say I’m the real winner here.”

The newly engaged couple stepped into the shower together high off of each others presence. They cleaned each other and washed each others face with their matching skincare products. Dressed in cozy holiday clothing and thick socks Terry insisted on finishing the tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches that Willow had abandoned earlier.

Once the food was ready the two cuddled on the plush sofa sharing a bowl,dipping the buttery cheesy sandwiches into the savory and herby soup. They coordinated hand feeding each other scraping the bottom of the bowl quicker than they’d like to.

A cheesy hallmark movie played in the background meanwhile the two sat lip locked for a second time since exiting the shower. Throw cover thrown over them and their wooded paradise turning into a mini water oasis, pure content rolled over them as a new brewing need for each other captured them. As long as Willow had Terry and Terry had Willow, the fast paced and ever changing world around them would never penetrate the shell their love provided.

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A/N:Heyy guys (tucks hair behind ear)this is the end of my little beast in the woods fic. I really do hope yall enjoy and stick around a while if you’d like,for future updates with our favorite guy, I’m not done with him yet 🫦

@simplyzeeka @zillasvilla @blowmymbackout @kimuzostar @playgurlxoxo @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @pocketsizedpanther @theereina @keyaho @brattyfics @uzumaki-rebellion @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @fakxmbj

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purplelupins · 7 months ago

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Lamb

|Midnight Mass|

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Father Paul Hill/John Pruitt x fem!reader

Word count: 12k

Summery: An entire life of being a good girl was a difficult cross to carry...especially in a tiny town with 127 residents on a good day. You kept the town fed and spirits as high as you could, but when a new face steps off the afternoon Breeze, things around you start to change; you don't even know you're in the eye of the storm.

Warnings: nsfw, reader is religious, religious symbolism, ideology, explanations and general conversations of religion, age gap (like this man is 80 technically and he watched reader grow up, and can remember reader as a little girl so if that’s creepy to you then go no further), stalking, manipulation,angst, murder (hello have you seen the show?), mentions of s*ic*de, drinking of blood, hunting of a person, grief, description of animal death, reader is described as blushing, character death, non consensual help showering, guilt and god maybe more but I think that’s it…this is not really a fix it fic

Notes:

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It took your last bit of energy to tell Father John to leave you alone…that it was his fault. Your vision was fading fast; you had lost enough blood that you were dizzy, but your fear and exhaustion had your brain forcing your body to shut down out of self preservation. As darkness gripped you, you heard the Father shift away from the small door and then your head thumped with his heavy footsteps as he walked away.

Maybe he finally listened to you.

Maybe he would actually leave you there to slip into a comatose state and let you die just to hide his sins.

Your eyes dropped shut as you listened to muffled voices. Angry voices. You smiled a dazed smile, and the last thing you could understand was something about limits. You didn’t care what he said…not then. All you felt was dizzy darkness that was making you float.

It was so calm you didn’t want to give in to that nagging feeling of uneasiness. But that nasty emotion was battered away with a serene humming all around you.

You felt like you were a baby again…you wondered if your body was making you remember being cradled by your father. Was this death? Reliving your entire life in mere minutes before your soul left your body. As you felt yourself being held gently, you relaxed even more when the serene sound of low humming lulled you back into that darkness until you were asleep again.

That was all there was until your senses began to return to you one by one. You were somewhere soft and warm. It smelled familiar but not familial. You ached…and your tongue felt heavy. Breathing felt as if your body was operating manually; difficult and jaded.

Your eyes cracked open, and you slowly took in your surroundings as your consciousness sharpened. It had been a few times now that you had awoken in that bedroom, and each time it became more and more unwelcome. You pushed yourself to sit up and winced when you tried to inspect yourself; your neck and shoulder and jaw hurt something terrible. All at once, you were bombarded with memories of the bite. The panic you had felt in that moment as that man’s teeth had sunk into you returned as you went ridged in the bed. Did you die? Had you been turned?

Your eyes flicked around the room anxiously to ensure you were alone. It all felt akin to waking up as a child from a horrible nightmare, and even though you knew you were safe in bed, you anticipated monsters and ghouls to crawl out to capture you. But after a few moments of staring at every shadow and and corner, you decided that you were indeed alone.

You pushed yourself out of the bed, and timidly padded over to the small table by the window where you saw a pair of scissors among discarded gauze. At one time you might have thought things through a little more, but you were on your last nerve, in pain, and cornered, and you were beyond thinking. You crossed the small room to the cracked door, and pushed it open the rest of the way as quietly as you could.

You saw the back of Father Pruitt’s black halo of hair where he sat on the small couch.

He greeted you- that low timbre of his voice resonating inside your ears far more comfortably than it should have. Without another thought, you threw the scissors straight at him. It missed the back of his head, but you saw the stripe of red that was left on his ear after it ripped through his lobe.

John barely flinched. Pain had become something he was used to, and feeling your wrath was something he had to do.

“I apologize for the…” He said as he turned to you and stood, “The suddenness of everything. I hope it didn’t startle you too much.” John gestured to you.

Your mouth opened with some prepared reply, but then when he looked at you, you snapped your mouth shut. Your brow pinched in confusion, and you looked down at yourself. There was nothing that stood out to you, but then you noticed the change in your attire. You didn’t wear pants and a t-shirt to bed typically. And you particularly remembered being disappointed about how your nightie had been soiled by the blood.

And you were clean.

Oh…

Oh god.

Your heart began to thud in your chest.

Why were you clean why were you changed why-

As you came to each realization, you returned your gaze to the Father, and he saw every ounce of shock and contempt there, “You- what did-“ you started, trying to find the right thing to portray your feeling of violation, “You- you took off…You washed me? You washed me.”

John shuffled a step and reached his hand out slightly to you, “I’m sorry…this thing is, you were quite a mess after your attack and you needed the rest…your clothes were soaked in blood and I just-“ he began to ramble.

“Wanted to help.” You finished for him.

Just like he always said.

The good Father nodded, but didn’t move any closer. It was as if John could sense a shift in you then. How your rage seemed to almost boil over as you stood there in his clothes, smelling like him, in his home. It was all too much after what had happened. What he had done. The life he took from you. The people he took from you.

You clenched and unclenched your hand.

Impulse took over, and you lunged towards the fridge, swiped a magnet off of it and threw it right at the imposing man before you. It bounced off his chest.

John sighed. He knew you needed to work through this.

“I’m sorry about what happened to you-“ he started again.

You threw a cup from the counter at him. It hit his head and toppled to the couch. Father Pruitt flinched slightly at the knock, but continued nonetheless.

“- I know you likely will decline, but …I think it would be best if you stayed here unt-“

The spoon you threw at him hit his arm, so you threw a knife too- it cut his cheek. You found a pot lid and threw that too.

It missed.

“-until you heal fully and I hold a town meeting with everyone.” John finished and closed his eyes as he found his patience for you.

He knew you heard him. Especially when you started throwing objects in rapid succession.

And the Father let you.

He could see the tears starting to pool in your eyes; he could practically taste them. Your suppressed emotions surged to the surface of your heart and exploded out of you in pandemonium. Everything you had wanted to do since Easter came out of you.

After several minutes, you slowed your attack. You stood only a few feet from him now after making your way along the kitchen counter to launch various debris at him, and his immobility only made you angrier. If angry was the right word…unsettled, frustrated, scared…it was all muddled together with guilt and grief and you found you didn’t know what you felt anymore.

When the older man didn’t move or even try to reason with you, you pushed away from the sink behind you and walked to him and slapped him square across the face.

Silence rang in your ears.

Your hand stung.

Did he even feel anymore?

The action seemed to stun both of you; you a little longer than he. John nodded as he blew some air out through his nose as if he finally understood something.

You needed to hurt him. And to John, he felt a great sense of peace in that.

“Go ahead.” He murmured to you.

You stood there, head craning up to look at him. For a moment you thought he might be patronizing you. then it was like every bit of restraint left in you ebbed away. Your hands balled up and began beating on him anywhere you could reach. You hit him and hit him and he waited. John watched you patiently, taking even breaths as you shoved at him and beat his body that wouldn’t bruise.

Your hands hurt. They likely sustained worse injury than he did from your hits.

Then all of a sudden, you stopped.

Father Pruitt watched as you sunk your head down, leaned your forehead against his chest, and sniffled. Wet patches began to dampen his shirt, and Father John had to suppress a sound of surprise. When you didn’t continue, and didn’t move away, he raised his arms from his sides, and wrapped you in them. His hands clasped together around your back like a bow keeping you tied. To the Father’s surprise, you nestled deeper into his embrace. Long, shuttering breaths wracked your chest against his that would catch in your soft throat every so often.

John was terrified he might do something or accidentally say something and break you out of your moment of submission. He closed his eyes and breathed in the calm. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had let him hold them so intimately.

Even when he and Millie reuinited after Easter…they never embraced for long. Over the decades, the closest he had come to embracing anyone would have seen when he consoled someone as they grieved. Perhaps it had been when you had let him dance in your living room…yes that must have been it.

John knew that the last time he had sat privately with Mildred when they were young they hadn’t embraced…it had felt like more of a meeting than an ending of a…whatever relationship they had had. Sneaking around when the island went to sleep. Hiding away during the storms…little touches when they passed eachother. Best friends in another life.

Now here you were…this sweet little young woman with hands holier than his; a man who had sworn a life dedicated to God.

He felt envy…among other things.

Yet another sin, but he couldn’t help it.

John knew that he had a tendency to ramble or fill space with words- an attribute he had learned over the years of being a priest. So he decided not to push anything in such a precious moment. He eased a hand up to your head and drew you closer into his chest, and softly shushed you. He hoped he resembled more of a man trying to comfort a young woman, but somehow he knew that his arms encircling you and that low hum of his voice soothing you was more akin to a hunter about to snap it’s prey’s precious neck.

The older man pushed that ill acknowledgment to the back of his mind.

“You’re not alone…you never will be.” he whispered into the crown of your hair after a long ten minutes of embracing you.

You sucked in a steadying breath.

“I don’t know if that’s comforting or terrifying, Father…” you replied, a small tremor in your hands as your temper settled under his touch.

He shrugged a little, though not condescendingly.

“It’s entirely up to you.” John sighed, “Only you can decide if loneliness is a blessing or a damnation…”

He was with you. There with you.

A long silence stretched on, then you sighed softly into his chest, and the warmth from your breath blossomed across his chilled skin under his clothes. The sensation made John’s hair stand on end with delight. You were trusting him.

It took two more minutes of contemplation on your part before you said anything. That question that had been on your mind since you woke up close to an hour ago. The question you should have asked him first. Now it prickled up the back of your neck begging to be asked.

“Am I…” you tried, but it was so quiet, “Did I…?” You couldn’t get the words out. You sighed and your shoulders sagged.

“Father am I a…?” You prompted him and looked up for any confirmation or denial.

John searched your eyes for just a second then he realized what you were asking.

“Wha- No!” He whispered almost relieved, “No you didn’t get-…you…you’re fine.” His hands squeezed you tighter as if to reassure you. Maybe himself, too.

You nodded and slowly pulled away from him; your arms hung limp at your sides. You stared up at his brown eyes that looked darker now than they used to.

You jumped when you felt his thumb wipe a few tears that fell. You hadn’t even noticed that you were crying again.

“My dear girl…You’re going to be fine…you’re alright.” He murmured to you.

And for the first time since Easter, you believed him.

And you wanted to.

Father Pruitt sighed and swallowed on the thickness in his throat.

“This…this is my fault- my fault and I-I see that now. It was always about God but it…it all went wrong, so wrong…” he whispered reverently as he remembered how long ago you truly had been okay. John’s eyes held yours as his voice broke.

“It did.” You agreed in a lofty murmur in an attempt to keep any more tears at bay.

He twitched a smile, but forced it away. He didn’t deserve to smile.

You looked down a little, then ventured a glance up as you spoke. “You…I think…I think it would just be best if you maybe revised the descriptions of angels in any of the holy books before jumping to conclusions next time, Father.” Your mouth twitched just as his had. You pursed your lips to hide the bitter amusement that pulled.

Father John breathed out some air he had been subduing.

“I think that would be best.” He nodded, and felt his heart soar at the sight of you accepting him a little. A fragile little bit. Precious.

The two of you stood silently in each other's space as you both seemed to bask in your current truce.

It was you who spoke first.

"I...I'll go home." You said, yet somehow it sounded forced. Rehearsed. You were so used to saying it and needing to get away that asking him if you could stay felt wrong.

It took him off guard, and he deflated a little. But he understood. He didn’t like it.

“You know you’re welcome here, sweetheart…” he reiterated, and offered you a small tight smile that he hoped hid how badly he wanted to beg you to stay.

You nodded, and fiddled with the edge of your- his- shirt. “I know…”

Another moment pulled on, and John was near to sinking to the floor for an answer.

“Can I make you coffee? I still have some I think.” He asked gently. Would you agree? If you did agree was it a sign that you would stay?

You wanted to shake your head, not wanting to ingest anything that wasn’t yours, but a fresh cup of coffee did sound like a godsend right then. And while you were still a little weary of him…you were willing to give him a chance. One.

“Okay.” You said.

John tilted his head to look at you a little better as he was flooded with joy.

“Yes? Good…good.” He hugged you again, but released you almost immediately. He was growing a little greedy with touch.

You fidgeted with your hands and stared down at how clean your nails were. Had he done that too? The skin on the soles of your feet almost itched and made you shift from the amount of attention you were receiving. Months of isolation could do that to a person.

“How do you take your coffee?” Father John asked as he pried himself away from your air. You shifted a little on your feet and told him how you took it, and he grinned- pleased that you accepted his offer.

Have faith…

That was what he told himself then as he watched you from the corner of his eye. He needed to have faith in you, and you in him. He needed to nurture the little faith you had left in you. Help you to thrive.

John knew he had to work slowly and steadily with you. He needed to remind you that he did have good in him, and that he too had once been a lamb just like you. Just another soul looking for salvation. Sadly he had thought he’d found it in a cave. He hoped you might find some semblance of salvation in him.

The anxiety you had felt upon waking still sat at the base of your skull and made your hair stand on end. That little voice of scepticism tickled your ear and made you shutter; you inched your way as little closer behind him as he filled the kettle and placed it on the stove. Watching.

John knew you were staring. You might have been the sweetest lamb in his flock but you hadn’t always been the best at being discreet. With your excitement, and your distain, your curiosity and boredom. At least not with the Monsignor. Evidently even now it was a force of habit that you let yourself be a little more honest around him.

When you saw him cross his arms as he waited, you stepped away and began picking up the various things you had thrown his way. The scissors, knife, spoon, recipe book, pot lid, among others. When you came to a mug you had hurled at him, you picked it up and meekly handed it to the man. He took it with a small smile.

The kettle boiled and steam made your cheeks flush from your spot beside the good Father while he poured the scalding water. John looked up at your watchful eyes, and his nose twitched in regretful humour. He wordlessly took his hands away from the small coffee press and began rolling his shirtsleeves up to his elbows, then showed you his empty, innocent hands.

“Nothing but a morning brew I assure you.” The older man said calmly.

The reassurance he offered you did little to cub your hesitation. You sucked in a breath and sighed. “Do you blame me?”

You had gotten so used to being weary around him that you were half expecting him to slip some blood into the strong drink.

He blinked and with missing a beat he said, “No.”

It seemed the two of you had some sort of unspoken understanding then. He wouldn’t hurt you and you would let him take care of you. You nodded your head, and turned away to pad over to the far wall to busy yourself with what books he had on his shelf. There were a few new ones you noticed.

Then your eyes slowly travelled over to the window, then to the newspaper clipping on the wall. You walked to it and stared at the grainy, youthful face that stared back at you. The same man who was behind you making you coffee.

You nearly hit the ceiling when the glass caught the reflection of the same face right behind you. You spun; startled at his proximity just a couple feet away.

“Sorry.” He said with a quick and slightly awkward smile as he offered you the cup. Those sharpened, white peaks poked out when his lips pulled back, and you were forced to remember that night again; the sounds still clear in your ears as islanders unleashed hell on one another.

You took the cup slowly, and gazed back at him for a moment before finally taking a sip. There was no metallic aftertaste. You sighed and closed your eyes. You needed that.

“Thank you.” You murmured to him, which he returned with a nod.

Tension kept you rooted to the spot, but you eventually managed to take a couple steps away, and gingerly moved past him to sat down on the small couch.

John didn’t want to crowd you too fast, and so stuck to picking up any remaining objects from earlier and washing a few dishes that had laid in the sink.

It was so quiet. While you were used to silence, you were not used to silence between people. You had been begging for an opportunity to talk to someone and here you were with exactly that, yet as fate would have it you couldn’t think of a word to say.

So you said the first thing you could manage.

“You swapped the cassock for jeans, hm?” You asked. It was stupid, but it had been something that made you shake your head with bemusement for months.

The jab at him made Father Pruitt’s brow jump and the lines beside his eyes deepen. Your humour had always been a welcomed companion even when you were little.

“Defiantly more inconspicuous.” He said, pausing to look back at you.

He missed you.

“Sure had everyone fooled…” You murmured. But he heard you…of course he heard you.

John pursed his lips and sighed quietly.

There was so much resentment and hostility inside you, and John knew that he put every bit of it there himself. You wouldn’t trust him on your own; you needed that guiding hand like he always had offered you. This time, he supposed, he faced the possibility of being nipped.

Father Pruitt was aware that you didn’t know every series of events following the vigil. You had run so fast and so far…so determined to stay alive. A crying lamb scattering away from the sharp blade that marked its fate with a red line.

The older man smiled bitterly, then moved slowly towards you.

“Can I sit, young lady?” He asked, coming around the edge of the small couch.

You watched him for a moment, then nodded and tucked yourself into one end of the couch to put space between you.

But then when John finally looked at you, he didnt know where to start.

You waited for a minute. When he still hadn’t spoken, you stared down at your coffee and blurted out another statement that had no rhyme or reason.

"Quite the cult following you have." You said.

Oh well done.

Months of loneliness truly had disintegrated your social skills.

But John’s head snapped up, and he laughed at the suddenness, "For a little while, yes...I did…I…the thing is, I thought it was their ability to hear God through me but…turned out they were more interested in what I had to say rather than God himself. They...they don't consider me much better than Judas now though and admittely I don’t blame them." He weaved his hands together in his lap and looked up at the ceiling.

You were surprised at the admission, "What do you mean?”

John sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “There is no short version of this for me to tell. But I’d like to tell you…” He said, leaning forward onto his knees, “Properly.”

You shifted a little at the seriousness in his voice, but supposed every story had a few sides to it, “Go ahead.”

“Thank you.” He said genuinely, “I’d like to start…I’d like to start from the beginning…”then he paused and thought, “No, no that’s not right. I’d like to start by saying that…you have every reason to resent my actions, and me. But I think it’s only right that you know everything.” He nodded to himself.

You looked down at the coffee in your hands as he spoke, but once he stopped, you slowly looked up at him. He was staring at you intently, as if gauging where to start. There was so much he needed to tell you and so much he wanted to tell you. He needed to tell you how utterly devastated he was by his selfish actions. He needed to tell you that he had been a coward for most of his life. He wanted to tell you that he missed you. He wanted to tell you that you were what kept him alive.

He supposed there was time for everything.

“When I was young…” he started quietly, “I was in love with a woman who I could not have…not that I’m supposed to have any- well, she was married. She was very devout to the church…a regular just like you were. Her husband was in the war and…she was alone…so alone…we…we let our feelings grow…I gave in and -…She had a daughter by me…Sarah…she had my eyes-“

“Doctor Gunning?” You blurted out, then your eyes widened,“You and Mild-“

“Yes.” He said absolutely, “Our lives were spent staring at eachother from across the church while I watched our daughter grow and I couldn’t even have the courage to come down and tell her…not until it was too late. Sarah…” he sucked in a breath as his throat tightened, “Sarah was shot…She died that night…Millie she…she was distraught in every sense. I tried to give her this gift of life so we could try together and it went all so wrong and it was only me to blame.” You watched him speak, and watched tears well in his eyes. You didn’t know he could make tears being what he was…but here you were with the man who had baptised you, weeping.

He swallowed and gathered himself, “Beverly she…she spun everything out of control. I meant what I said when I first came here, you know? That I’m-“

“-only here to help.” You echoed him.

He looked at you a little relieved that you were there with him.

“Yes. Yes exactly- I meant that. I told lies, but that was not one of them.” He assured you, “All I wanted was to help. To fix the mortality that keeps us from living every chance we desire…take something off of God’s hands but even saying that now out loud it’s foolish. I was foolish because God does not need help He is above help and only needs us to follow his will and somehow I thought I knew better. As a priest, I am supposed to let God speak through me, but at that time I was speaking for Him. Creating my own message…so clouded by this gift given to me that I couldn’t listen…and He was telling me to stop. But I didn’t.”

You didn’t say a word, and he continued.

“Then Bev she…I thought she was doing good and helping spread this gift and spreading the good word…but she…no she was even more clouded than I was. She spun everything until it was all so so wrong…she unleashed a living hell onto the rest of the island. Screams…God help me so many screams that night…”

“I know.” You choked out as you both shared the memory.

“And then it was quiet. So, so quiet. She wanted me to chose who lived and who died. She said it was always going to be me who chose and I realised then that she was no better than the pagans worshipping idols and false prophets…she had put me in ranks with our Lord’s messengers and sought to give me power that no man should be trusted with. As the sun rose, the island hid inside the rec centre and St. Patrick’s…but when the people needed aid and guidance, she made an enemy of herself. It wasn’t a week before the people turned on her and locked her out as the sun rose…now they govern themselves. I- I believe they resent me. We still hold Mass, but it’s so fascinating to witness the shift of a persons perception of you even if it is negative. It…it is…different. I pray that in time they will see that my intentions were only good. That I was merely lost.” Father Pruitt trailed off, and clasped his hands together- squeezing them as guilt gripped him.

“You…” you sat up, coffee gone cold ages ago as you tried to process everything he had told you. “You wanted to give yourself another chance with her…you just…wanted…to help.” You said, mostly to yourself, but John nodded.

“I did. I still do. Only now I truly mean it when I say I am merely a servant of God…to God. My guilt follows me everyday until I am ready to meet my fate…decide it is my last day and I feel the sun for the last time.” His voice broke and he stared at his loosely clasped hands, “Until I am…set free.”

You placed your cup down and settled back onto the couch. You knew this could all be an elaborate lie to manipulate you. You weren’t stupid. But when you finally looked over at him, there was such a startling vulnerability there staring back at you. Like he was baring his soul to you.

“She was your best friend, wasn’t she?” You asked slowly, shifting your gaze to a crack in the floor. “Mrs. Gunning.”

A smile twitched at his mouth, “A lifetime ago…”

You weighed his words, and thought.

There had been so many times now where he had failed to lend his help; that cumulated with his ability to twist words and situations to his betterment did not provide him with the most wonderful track record.

“You’ve lied to me.” You whispered.

“I did, yes.” He replied. Honesty. Have faith.

“You…you manipulated me,” You swallowed, “When I trusted you.”

“Yes.” His voice was hoarse with regret. He wanted so badly to tilt your head to look at him.

“You regret it.” You stated.

“I do. Every day.” He shifted a little closer to you. So minutely. Just a little bit.

“Can you help me?” You asked quietly.

At that, his head perked up, and he finally caught your eye. “Anything.” He meant it.

You were everything now. Perhaps you had been everything all along.

You considered your request carefully.

“Can you stop them?” You were meek and didn’t expect much. Honestly you were expecting him to give you an answer that would make you want to ask more questions.

As you stared back at him, you felt as if he was taking you in for the first time. Like he was memorizing every ounce of you that he could see, and you felt suddenly very aware of your skin and your hair and the teeth in your mouth.

John considered what might happen if he stood up for your absolute safety from the rest of the community. Many of them had become domesticated and had settled into their existence, but many were still resentful, vicious creatures of his own making. And in their eyes, you were their forbidden fruit. Perhaps you would become even more enticing to them with his authority over you. Regardless of the steady supply of blood to the island, he knew they craved the warmth of a live body to suckle. He was beyond well aware of the craving because, admittedly, he too coveted your tender flesh. John so wished he was far above such vulgarity, but he still found himself having to remind himself that you were sacred. Untouchable. That he was not to pin you down under his weight and expose your neck and bite into your fragile skin…

It would be a lie if he said that there weren’t nights where he was particularly hungry and he didn’t find himself imagining smelling your hair as he drank from you…he had gotten lightheaded by the thought alone and prayed for the remainder of the night.

But John had control.

“I can. Yes I can help you.” He nodded, “I’ll need your faith though.”

You stared at him. He knew exactly what you were thinking, and it pained him. John took your hands in his, and knelt down in front of you as he spoke.

“One more time. I promise…just one more time.” He assured you.

You pursed your lips, and vaguely looked out the window.

“I can’t keep doing this…I’m…I’m so exhausted.” You half laughed out of spite.

Father Pruitt nodded.

“I know…I’m so sorry I know you are.” There was that break in his voice again. Like he was on the verge of tears. “You are on such a higher level than I am in God’s eyes. He sees you and He is testing you. And you…you are doing so well.”

“I don’t feel like I am, Father.” You weren’t sure why you were being so honest. There was something magnetic in the man that pulled your heart from you so carefully that you didn’t even feel it.

“Tell me what you feel.” He squeezed your hands. You twitched at the contact, having not touched anyone for so long. His hands were soft…so soft.

You were nervous to open up to him completely.

John could almost feel your apprehension.

“Please, I am the one who put you here in this situation, in this…life. Please make me know your pain.” He whispered.

You looked down at your joined hands, and bit the inside of your lip to keep from crying.

“Tell me what is happening to you.” He urged you one more time in a whisper. And you felt a single tear fall from your eye and onto his thumb. He wished he could encapsulate that tear and keep it- precious.

Your last bit of restraint crumbled under his desire to help you.

“I…I feel washed out from the shore,” you choked out, “Like…like no matter how hard I try, I get dragged back out by a squall that just wont stop. It doesn’t matter how many times I gather my strength…I can’t get back. I feel like I’m in some foreign land and no one is there. And all it’s going to take is one wave that’s a little too big and a little too strong that I won’t be able to get over…and I’ll be gone. Lost under the surface.” Another tear fell onto your hands.

Father Pruitt stared at you, barely blinking as he regarded you.

“Giving in sounds so much easier than whatever it is I have to do everyday.” You shook your head; you hadn’t said any of these thought out loud, and now hearing them made your heart ache even more.

It would be a lie if John said he didn’t know how you felt. There had been many a time where he considered giving in…burning. But each time he would remember you, and how cowardly he would feel if he abandoned you there. He would see that photograph that sat in your hallway of you on Easter as a child in his mind and manage to make it through another day.

“I remember your baptism…” John said after a moment, “You hated it…” he laughed a little, “But when I gave you back to your mother you were fine…resilient and glowing. I have faith that you will weather this. The waters may be stronger, but you’re still that same soul.”

You felt your tears fall, “This time you can’t hand me back to my mom though.” You laughed a little at the ridiculousness of it.

He sighed and looked around the small house for a moment then moved and sat down beside you, and opened his arms to you. You eyed him wearily, but he only waited. He had done the same gesture to you many times over the years. Helped you when you had slipped and scraped your knee, or when your father lost his temper when you got ice cream on your dress on Easter…when you got sick and missed Mass. Always gentle and paternal, but not nearly as intimate as this. Your soul was bared to him now. It was no mere injury or heart ache.

You were grieving.

And he would guide you through it.

You took a deep breath, and scooted closer to him. You felt one of his arms wrap around your shoulders, and draw you into his chest. Your shoulders were ridged for a moment, then as your anxiety waned, and he drew small circles on your back with his thumbs, you relented. You timidly brought your arms around his shoulders and what was meant to be a hug turned into you clinging to him.

“I hate you.” You mumbled. It wasn’t a lie. Not a whole truth either but it was the only thing you could get out.

The Monsignor sighed out an amused breath. You could truly be so curt when you wanted to.

“Hate is such a strong word…used to express how despicable and irredeemable a person is…and I understand. I’ll admit I’m not my biggest fan either.” He agreed.

You laughed.

It was pained, but you laughed.

You sunk into his embrace a little more, minding your neck and shoulder to not disturb the injury too much. He nosed your hair, and settled into the cushions with you in tow.

Your heart clenched when you tried to recall the last time you had been embraced by someone for so long and unrushed. You only grew sadder when you truly could not remember.

You didn’t know when you fell asleep. What you did know was that you were opening your heavy eyes, and your body was warm and relaxed. You slowly took in where you were, and found that you were still in Father Pruitt’s arms.

There was a rumble against your ear, and you noted that it was him sighing. Your hand was gripping his shirt like a lifeline, and he still held you to his chest. And oddly enough, you felt safe. Wrapped in the embrace of the person who terrified you. Friends closer and enemies closer you supposed.

You slowly pulled away from him, and looked up at his face and he stared down at you. Your noses brushed for a moment, and you felt your breath hitch. He didn’t dare move- like a hunter about to shoot his beloved doe.

“Don’t leave me.” You whispered, warm air wisping against his lips.

He knew it then just as you knew it.

You were lost without him. And not in a way that made you reliant on him for your saving, but instead made him responsible for your healing.

“I won’t.” He murmured earnestly. He would always be a part of you; he had single-handedly etched himself into your life, and even if you left him right in that moment…he would somehow still be with you.

You pursed your lips, and fought the sting in your eyes as tears threatened to spill over again.

Then just as you started to pull from him and stand, John spoke. “Stay…” he said almost pleadingly.

You paused and looked at him as he rose to stand with you.

“Please, just…just for a day or two, you’re not fully healed.” He added, shifting a little as he stumbled over his words, “ I need…I need to speak with the town too…I may not look it anymore but I’m still their elder and they will hear me.”

You paused.

Redemption. You were letting him redeem himself in someway. His offer, while likely coming with good intentions, still made you nervous. You knew what they were like when they were hungry. And Father Pruitt was turned for longer than them, so either he had better control than the rest or he was even hungrier-

“You will not be harmed here, I swear.” He said, “I want to help you.”

You stared up at him, still thinking. You wanted to be helped…at this point you needed it. You were losing yourself completely to solitude.

He whispered your name.

“I need- need to help you. You’re lost…you said it yourself- how hard everyday is for you…and I have to take most of that blame. The thing is, I gave you so much security and assurance when I returned that now you cannot move on from this traumatic point in your life without my help. Let me help you…I know the horror you feel there in your heart- I- I saw it all too. Felt it. No one else could do that for you. Let me help you.” He whispered, hands coming to rest on your shoulders as he spoke, “Please…I need to.”

You bit at the side of your tongue, but found yourself growing weaker in resolve; you weren’t sure if it was from the wound still closing on your shoulder or from the way his dark eyes entranced yours as he spoke to you like you were the most important thing in the world in that moment. But the desperation in his voice ensnared you.

“…Okay.” You whispered back.

John nodded, a rush of air spilling from his lungs.

“Thank you…” he whispered back, and pulled you close, one hand on the back of your head, and the other around your ribs; careful to not disturb your wound, “I’m…I’m going to take care of you.”

Those words alone had your nose tingling as tears began to rise to your eyes, but you sniffled and fought them back.

The remaining hours of the winter daylight were only a few, and you spent them wrapped in a blanket that smelled of the man sat at his desk.

A respectful distance away from you.

Old fashioned.

You laughed a little to yourself when you looked at him so concentrated in his grey jeans and sweater. You wondered if he was more vibrant when he was young. Or was he always an old soul at heart?

“Old man…” you breathed out absentmindedly into a cup of broth he had made you.

“Deprecation is not in good manners, young lady.” He murmured back to you, and you nearly choked.

You forgot that he could hear the tiniest of whispers.

“S-sorry…it just…funny to see Monsignor Pruitt in jeans.” You said, cheeks warming.

John grinned.

“Ah…yes well…I can’t say I’ve worn them since I was a young boy…always saw the young parishioners wearing them by the 80’s and I always wondered what drew people to wear them so often…I won’t lie they are a little stiff at first.” He said in good humour, looking up from his writing.

You held his gaze for a minute, then nodded, “They suit you, Father.”

Your comment caught him off guard, and you chose to let him sit in that slight discomfort. So instead of saying another word you just smiled a little then turned away from him and nestled into your blanket a little more.

A half hour passed before either of your spoke again. This time it was he who approached you.

You were nodding off when you heard him walk over to the couch and crouch in front of you.

“We gotta change your dressing.” He whispered gently, patting your knee. His eyes flickered over your face as he tried to discern how you were feeling. What you were feeling.

You drew your heavy eyelids up and curled in on yourself, “Can we do it later?” You mumbled- already half asleep and so comfortable that you finally knew what those cinnamon rolls you used to make felt like.

“I know…I know…c’mon, hold onto me.” He slipped his hand under your blanketed legs and hoisted you up to walk you to the bathroom. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and buried your face there.

“There we go…good girl, just sit there for me and I’ll be right back.” He sat you down on the small counter, and retrieved the gauze from the bedroom before returning to you. You peeled your eyes open to watch him work. He snipped the fabric to have it ready quickly, then took a deep breath before gently removing the medical tape that kept your old dressing in place.

“Father it hurts…”You hissed a little at the sting and ache of the wound and how some of the gauze was stuck to the edge of the wound and pulled.

“Shh…shh…there you go,” he cooed to you. You then heard him swallow as the bite was exposed.

“That bad?” You asked.

The good Father blinked and took a steadying breath, “No- no not at all. Healing well actually…just…uh- just it- well…it’s- you’re doing good.” He stumbled over his words as he cleaned around the skin.

You looked up at him now, and he seemed to catch your sobered expression.

“I’m fine.” He said reassuringly.

And you nodded.

“I’m going to take care of you.” He repeated, then tossed the bloodied wipe into the bin and began bandaging you up.

“There you go…good as new.” John didn’t smile; he was almost looking for your approval. Still uncertain. He was almost waiting for you to say that you had enough and that you’d leave. But it didn’t come.

You nodded and let him help you into bed, and he felt a little reassured.

But then as he went to go after bringing your blanket up to your neck, he felt your hand grab his sleeve, and he paused and knelt beside you. Your eyes were closed and your breathing was already slowing.

“Thank you John…” you whispered.

The older man felt tears well in his eyes, but he swallowed and leaned his forehead to your hand.

“I will make this right…” Father Pruitt said quietly to himself. He watched you fade away, and found himself tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear before leaving you to rest.

You slept well into the evening, long past sunset.

When you awoke, the room was dark aside from the sliver of light from the cracked door. You blinked slowly, willing your weariness to go away as you slipped from the bed and to the floor; the cold wood sobered you a little as you padded to the door.

“You must be hungry.”

You jumped at the soft voice from the kitchen.

You pushed the door open and meekly looked out into the main room- your eyes adjusting to the light.

John was stood over a small pot that he stirred occasionally on the stove. It was only then that you smelled that he was making, and your stomach growled in recognition of food.

John hid his grin well when he heard your hunger.

“My mother used to make this all the time when we needed some healing…physical or mental…tell me if it needs anything I…I can’t really taste it.” He said gently, raising his bowed head to look at you. John stood with a spoon full of the soup as he waited for you to decide, and he felt a swell of pride in him when you slowly started to walk to him.

You tried to hide the fact that your stomach was doing flips at his gesture. You couldn’t recall the last time someone had made you food.

“Open…” He breathed out, and you parted your lips; his eyes caught your pink tongue just inside your mouth as you accepted the spoon. A detail he didn’t know what to do with.

You let the taste fill your mouth.

It was good.

Really good.

You swallowed and nodded, “Thank you…it’s really nice. Just a little more salt, please.” You wrung your hands as you spoke.

The older man nodded, and watched you turn away to sit on one of the chairs in front of his desk. A shiver ran through you then, and you sighed as you begrudgingly went to stand to retrieve a blanket.

John turned to bring you a bowl of soup, and quickened his steps when he saw you getting up. “What do you need?” He asked.

“I’m just a bit cold.” You said, and went to move past him but his large hand caught your arm.

“Sit, I’ll get you something.” John sat you back down and placed to soup in front of you while murmuring something about the liquid being hot. You watched him disappear into his bedroom then reappear just a moment later with a pair of thick socks, and a blanket.

“Oh thank yo- …Father what-…” you went to take the socks from him but he knelt in front of you and tucked the blanket around your hips and thighs, then began putting the socks on your feet like it was the most normal thing in the world.

John’s eyes caught your surprised stare, and blinked up at you, “Eat up, sweetheart or it’ll get cold.” He hummed.

You felt your ears grow warm, but you didn’t dare open your mouth to protest and tell him you could take care of yourself. You also decided to ignore the warmed that gathered behind your navel. So without another word, you turned and began to eat what he gave you. You sighed as it went down your throat; you didn’t know how you had managed to make it this long without some kind of human connection.

“I have Mass tonight.” John said and he stood and sat behind his desk- sorting through his papers.

You looked up from your bowl and nodded. Your anxiety rose slightly at the prospect of being alone after what had happened.

Evidently he heard your heart rate spike, and his focus broke from the papers and jumped to you instantly.

“You will not be harmed. It will only be a couple hours. I have the only key to the rectory after Bev- after she…passed. I’ll be speaking with the island tonight…I put in a word for all to attend tonight.” The priest spoke earnestly.

You peered up at his direct gaze, and sighed then nodded. “Okay.”

He returned the gesture, “Okay.” He whispered.

You watched him gather his things, and found yourself surprised by how your eyes followed him around the modest house as he readied himself. You startled yourself with the realization of how attached you were becoming to his presence, and you quickly looked away from him.

John sighed and grabbed his notebook then came to crouch down in front of you. “If anyone knocks, go into the cellar…if anything happens, open the back window and you come to me.” He said firmly.

Your eyes flickered between his, “Okay.”

He grinned a little and patted your cheek lightly, “There’s a good girl…eat, and have more water.” He pointed to the kitchen and you watched him leave. The lock clicked into place.

You felt alone again.

Although this solitude was not altogether uncomfortable. Just quiet.

You could hear voices approach the church and wander nearby. Unease churned in your guts as they drew close, and you chose to relocate to the bedroom. You filled another bowl of soup and shuffled to the back of the house where you cocooned yourself on Father Pruitt’s bed. A wince escaped you when you laid down wrong, and you rolled your shoulder to try to ease the pain. It was more of a dull ache now that throbbed every so often.

You downed the soup, and curled in on yourself. You wanted so badly to shower…to brush your hair and feel more like yourself. You felt far more exhausted than you should have; you wondered if the bite had come with some sort of poison that your body was fighting off.

Sleep took you before you could stop it. It wasnt until you felt a large palm against your cheek that you started to wake up. You nestled into the hand and burrowed yourself deeper into the pillows below your head.

Then you could hear your name being said softly.

After several minutes, you cracked your eyes open. When you did, you were given a bit of a fright.

John was leaned over you just a foot away as he tried to rouse you from your sleep. What startled you however was how the light from the living room caught his eyes and made them glint in the darkness like the cats that used to populate Crockett.

“Sorry,” he whispered, and backed off a touch, “It’s been a few hours…just need to check your dressing.”

You sighed and while you truly did not wish to move from your spot, you did not want an infection in the middle of winter.

“‘S okay…”you mumbled as you got up.

Father Pruitt gingerly pulled your shirt’s neck down and removed the bandage. You were healing, slowly.

“Father?”

John blinked and looked at you, “Yes?”

“Could I take a shower?” You asked. It had been almost two days, and you could feel yourself growing itchy.

The older man ground his teeth for a moment at his lack of care for you.

“Of- of course. The uh…the bite is healed enough that you can wash up under warm water.” He began looking anywhere but at you as he was reminded of how he had cleaned you.

You nodded and slipped past him into the small bathroom, “Um…do you have some clean clothes?” You asked timidly. You hated that you had to keep asking him for help; John on the other hand was elated.

“Y-yes just let me…um…” he began searching through his clothes and found you some pants and a shirt that would likely be warmer than what you had currently. The pants you would likely have to roll up.

You found a little amusement in how he seemed to be so uncomfortable; it wasn’t that it was sweet or gentlemanly, it was that you had been so distressed for so long because of him, and you enjoyed seeing him in the same position.

“Thank you.” You said, and left him there to wash yourself.

John released a breath that relieved a little of the pressure on his chest when you closed the door. He needed to do more than his best for you, and you seemed to be very aware of that. Knowing that you needed him to be better made him unable to relax. John knew he could be cowardly, and selfish, and very wrong, but he was going to do his damnedest to be more than his mistakes and sins. Even if it was the last thing he did.

When you returned to the living room, you found Father Pruitt standing with the rectory telephone pressed to his ear as he looked out one of the windows. You felt your stomach sink at the thought of him telling anyone you were there. But then again, they likely already knew.

“Yes…yes it seemed to go well…blunt or not, they needed the line drawn. No, just wait. I wou-…y/n, it’s okay, sweetheart, you can come out.” He called to you as he paused his conversation.

You timidly shuffled out the door and peeked over at him. He held his hand out to beckon you over as he hummed and mumbled a few things over the phone. You padded over to him, and he kept his gaze trained on you once you came within reach.

John reached up and tucked a few hairs behind your ear and touched your chin gently, “Good…and they understand?…good,” he said, “Yes…she’s strong. Alright. Take care.” He extended his arm to place the phone back on the receiver, and sighed, “Annie.” He said.

Your heart squeezed, but didn’t say anything.

“She’s worried about you,” John hummed, “I spoke to the island last night. Instilled the fear of their god into them lest they touch you again.” His voice lacked any malice or anger, in fact it was very calm, but there was no hiding how tight his jaw was.

You nodded, and tugged at the blanket you had wrapped around your shoulders.

“Father?” You asked him.

“Hm?” He hummed.

“I want to take a walk.” You said.

John stopped looking at your bandage and focused on you, “I don’t-“

“And I want you to come with me.” You finished.

That surprised him, but pleased him greatly.

“Lead the way, young lady.” He cracked a small grin.

You nodded, and disappeared back into the bedroom to find the socks he had given you and a sweater. When you returned, you frozen in your place when you saw him shrugging on that long black coat that was older than you.

“You kept it…” you mumbled.

Father Pruitt paused and looked down at himself, “Ah…yes well I suppose we all have things we grow attached to.”

You pursed your lips, and pulled the sweater you had taken a little tighter before you walked to your shoes and slipped them on. They were clean now, no longer muddy and full of grass.

John joined you by the door, and you looked up at his as he opened the door. He seemed to feel your pause, and turned his attention to you.

“You’re safe.” He whispered earnestly.

There was a calm that came over you then. You didn’t necessarily want to trust him, but you had told yourself that you would let him try to redeem himself. Trusting him was the first step.

You nodded, and stepped outside into the early morning air. The winter temperature made you shiver, but the crisp air was refreshing. You took a slow step out onto the grass, and looked back at Father Pruitt who stood at your shoulder like a guard.

A guardian angel.

You almost laughed at the thought.

He nodded, and placed a gentle hand on your back to encourage you. You truly hoped he was being sincere and wasn’t guiding you into the hungry mouths of the islanders. That this hadn’t all been an elaborate lie.

The frosty dirt and gravel under your feet crunched far too loudly. You could only imagine how loud it was for the man beside you. He chose not to comment.

John couldn’t have cared less about the sound of the road you walked on; he was far more occupied with listening for any islanders nearby, or that winged monster. He didn’t know who had done it, but whoever had cut holes into its wings had done Gods work. Forever contained to Crockett.

The two of you made it almost into town without incident. As you passed the marina, there were several old fhishermen maintaining their boats. Men you used to feed and laugh with. It look mere seconds for them to smell you and hear your heart. One by one their heads snapped up.

You could feel your natural instinct to run, but you felt that hand on your should and farm around your back that steadied you as you and the father stared back at the men.

You sucked in a breath, and turned to the older man, “I’m okay.” You said quietly.

John turned his attention to you, and his clenched jaw loosened.

The two of you moved on through the town. Left and right, heads poked out from windows and people stopped to stare at the pristine lamb walking through their den. Neither of you said a word as you passed the general store, and your old shop.

“Y/n?”

You stopped in your tracks. That voice broke your heart with just your name. You looked over past Father Pruitt, and saw Ali just several feet from you with Warren.

You couldn’t breathe all of a sudden as the memory of burying his father flooded you after so long of you praying to forget it.

“Ali.” You whispered.

The boy took a few tentative steps towards you, then almost ran to you and held you tight. You knew he wasn’t the most affectionate teenager, but as he gripped you, you could almost feel his own sorrow. You pushed the pain of the wound away even as his arm pressed on it.

“Thank you…” his voice came from your uninjured shoulder.

You embraced him and rubbed his back gently, “He loved you, Ali…he still does.” Your voice broke, but tears wouldn’t fall.

He sniffled, and tightened his grip, then slowly pulled away. You noticed how he wouldn’t look at the men beside you. In fact many didn’t. Perhaps he had told the truth about being ostracized.

“I’m sorry…I’m- I should have listened to you I’m sorry-“ he started to ramble.

You shook your head, “Ali…Ali it’s done,” you whispered, then remembered something his father had told you, “Inshallah God will have mercy on you. If I meet him before you, I’ll put in a good word.” You smiled a little, and he stared at you like you had given him the best possible news.

“Thank you…thank you.” He hugged you one more time, before you let him go, and began walking again.

John watched you from the corner of his eye every so often as you made your way through town. He was pleased that he only had to ward off a couple islanders who got a little too curious, and he noticed how you could subconsciously lean into his side when he did.

You house was always a no-go zone for anyone. Especially after your attack. That night when he addressed the islanders, John hadn’t been that angry since Easter…hadn’t yelled so venomously in so long. Now your home sat peaceful and empty.

He watched you gather the things you wanted and needed and stuffed them into a duffle. Photos and books and things that held memories or that you held dear to you. Things that could make anywhere feel like home. Clothes and shoes and snacks. You muttered occasionally to yourself, and gazed longingly at your stand mixer sitting on your counter as you passed it. You missed being you. You missed…living.

You might have stayed and reminisced a little longer, but the sun wouldn’t stay down forever. With just a few more things placed into the bag, you pulled it over your shoulder and walked back to the door where a Father Pruitt stood waiting.

He extended his hand out to you, and you stared at it a little confused, then he nodded to your bag, “I’ve given you enough of a burden to carry in this life.” John didn’t wait for you to hand it to him- he slipped it off your shoulder and onto his like it weighed nothing, then opened the door for you. You grabbed a coat off the pegs by the door, and slipped it on over your borrowed clothes.

Your fingers ached from the cold as you walked back across the island. You buried them into your pockets, and kept your gaze ahead as you went. Just as before, several heads turned as you went by. Your stomach hurt when you saw Annie standing with Ed in their doorway as you passed by. It had been almost 10 months since you saw them, and now you almost felt estranged.

You had begun to notice that whether you wanted to acknowledge it or not. But you truly didn’t belong anymore.

As your journey passed by that gap in the brush by the shore, you paused and began towards it to visit the halo of stones. You crouched down onto the cold earth, and placed your hand over the now-framed photo of Hassan and Ali on his grave.

You sighed, and looked up at the dark sky, “Put in a good word for me, too.”

John swallowed any words that tried to worm their way out. He didn’t deserve to comment. Instead, he stood by and watched you wipe off your knees as you straightened up, and continued on.

The two of you began to come up to the rectory, but then just as you went to turn down the path, you stopped again. You thought for a moment, then turned to the Father.

“Can I take you one more place?” You asked.

“Of course.” He said, and quickly placed your bag inside before joining you again. This time, you continued on past the church and towards the other side of the island.

You slowly led him out to the Uppards, and you walked him over to a patch in the grass that you now knew well. You sat, and patted the spot beside you, “Sit.” You said.

John took the place next to you, and stared out at the water.

“This was where I sat that night.” You said into the wind, “Waiting…”

John watched you, pain clinging to his chest. He had wondered where you had run. What shelter you had made for yourself.

“I tried to keep Leeza and Warren safe, I really did but…it just wasn’t enough,” your broken whisper came out in puffs of vapour. You could feel those emotions you had been certain were guarded start to rear their heads.

John so badly wanted to comfort you…to offer something. But your heart was racing and your breathing was heavy. You needed to say more and he wasn’t going to deprive you.

“He-…” you tried, “He was a good man, Father. Hassan just…he just…wanted some place quiet and safe for Ali…he died being hated but he deserved so much more. Ali deserves so much more and you took that.” Your cheeks warms as that rage began to seep into you.

“I did,” He said finally, voice hoarse, “I did take that and I’m so…so sorry and I wish I could give it all back…” he shook his head and looked over at you as he spoke. You met his gaze and pursed your lips, “There are no words that I could say now or in a hundred years that could express my sorrow to you.” He spoke earnestly.

You sighed, and stared at him, “And what about me?” You whispered.

His breath caught.

“What about me, Father?” You asked.

He thought for only a moment, “I took so much from you…I think the only thing I didn’t take was your faith. I told you…that night…to have faith. The thing is, you do have it. Your ability to believe in good and better is…astounding. You are…so good. And I hurt that. I cannot tell you how guilty I am. I was greedy.” John said honestly, “With so much, but especially with you, I was greedy. They say God mends wounds in time- physical, mental and emotional…but I would place no blame on you if you didn’t heal from what I put you through. You were so bright…so loved…just…Lord so beautiful. So beautiful inside and out and I was a coward for much of my life trying to hide that ugliness and I envied you. I am…so, so sorry.”

The older man looked away from you to stare out at the dark water. You felt a stray tear fall down your cheek at his words. He had hurt you, but you hadn’t expected it to be more than skin deep.

“I hurt something because I found it sublime and I wanted it to last forever. I was…cruel. I was cruel. I didn’t notice the destruction that came with it. And I’m sorry.” John looked back at you, and you noticed the glassiness in his eyes. A few tears fell.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments. It might have been an hour that passed before you slowly reached over to him and grasped his hand. He was almost instantaneous in holding it in return.

“What’s it like, Father?” You asked, and looked over at him.

He returned his attention to you, “What’s what like, little one?”

You stared back at him and took in his handsome face. His dark hair that fell a little over his forehead, his dark eyes and full brows. It took a moment of your staring for him to realize you were asking about the… “gift”.

He paused and sucked in a breath before shaking his head, “Well you…you see things you’ve never seen and heard things you never thought you would be able to…smell things you didn’t know could be smelled. I could hear the flowers blooming when I stood close enough…the world breathes. Sings…glows brighter…magnificent.” John thought aloud, looking around him until he came back to you, “But too much of a good thing is bad.” He smiled bitterly.

You blinked, and nodded.

Father Pruitt squeezed your hand, and sighed, “I may not feel the cold but you do. C’mon sweetheart, let’s get you back.” He stood, and pulled you up with him.

You didn’t protest, and let him guide you out of the brush and onto the path. He took you through the marshy woods and along the stone road until you neared the rectory. You noticed then how it was starting to get lighter out. You slowed your steps as you came to the grass, and stopped completely.

John felt you stop moving and looked back at you. His brows pitched up in confusion, “Are you alright? What’s wrong?” He asked, fearing your wound had opened up or you had gotten ill.

But you just stared up at him and waited. A beat passed between you where he looked around and inspected you, trying to figure out why you wouldn’t move, then it dawned on him. John stopped looking around, and tilted his head down to gaze back at you. Seconds ticked by and the world around you grew brighter and brighter.

And you waited.

But the Father wouldn’t move. You saw his eye twitch when the warm glow started to break through the trees.

That was enough.

You took his hand and tugged him along where he scooped up your bag that had been resting on the stoop and entered the rectory just as the sun rose. Neither of you commented on what had just happened, not that you needed to. You wanted to see if he had been truthful; did he honestly want to change and stop being a coward? Would he die for you if that was your wish…as someone who he had taken everything from and manipulated.

You felt yourself soften towards him after that night.

For once, he told you the truth.

You let him take your jacket off and watched his hands unzip it. You took your bag and placed it in his room, where you opened it up and slowly took everything out. You felt silly grabbing so many things that you didn’t need…but not having them felt stranger.

You pulled out a fresh pair of your own clothes and didn’t think twice before you lifted up your borrowed shirt.

John Pruitt, ever the gentleman and holy man, froze when he caught sight of you through the open door. He might have chastised you for being so careless if it was anyone else, but he couldn’t get the words out. He saw the curve of your back and swell of-

Turn around John.

He spun on his heel and grabbed a book off his shelf and sat on his couch, facing the very opposite of where you were. It took a few more minutes of you shuffling through your things before you padded back out to him. You passed the couch and placed a pair of your shoes by the door. John could smell your scent again now that it wasn’t muddled with his clothes.

Then you came back and plopped yourself down beside him and leaned over to his shoulder to see what he was reading. “What’s this, Monsignor?” You asked softly.

The title gave him pause and he looked up from the pages.

“It um…it’s a collection of German fairytales.” He mumbled, only now realizing what he was reading.

You leaned closer, and laughed quietly, “Didn’t know you were German.”

“Oh I’m not- it was a gift…many years ago. Decades…Christmas I think. People seem to have the idea that priests lack any fear and don’t like a nice ending for stories. I’ll be honest, y/n this book always scared me a little.” John turned the page and grimaced at one of the illustrations.

“Be not afraid…” you whispered quietly. Those words made his heart ache; words meant to help and comfort were now tainted by his own doings.

You both quietly sat there, not saying a word. As you slowly let you guard down, you could feel yourself starting to recover after months of running on nerves and willpower. Your head grew heavy on his shoulder, and John realised after a minute that you had fallen asleep. He remained where he was and shifted you so your legs were across his lap and your face was in his chest. The last thing you needed was an aching back.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@ellies-dad-jokes @littleredwritingcat @zaunite-leo @f4er1e-g1rl @purplemotif @vampyre-kin @hamishlinklaters @spacechupss @pansexualpamandabear @ebiemidnightlibrarian @erialuna @nilla-bear @vintageglassheart02 @ethanhoewke @dancingisdangerouss @cherrysugarx @daisychainsinknots @thesoundresoundsecho

#midnight mass #midnight mass fanfiction #flanaverse #hamish linklater #father paul hill #father paul #father john pruitt #father paul x reader #father John Pruitt x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

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No Sugar Tonight 5

Character: Brock Rumlow

Summary: A regular customer becomes more than just a familiar face.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The townhouse is big compared to your apartment, though most places are. Brock keeps his hand tight on yours as he brings you up the front steps. He punches a code into the lock, the numbers blocked out by his large figure. You teeter on your feet as he pushes down the lever and shoves the door inward.

He points you in ahead of him and adjusts the straps of the duffel bag hooked over his shoulder. Those are your things, parsed down to a single bag. He follows you in as your eyes skimp the walls. Despite your muddled fear, you can’t help but stand in awe of the antique panel and brick.

“You seem like the old-style type,” he plops the bag down on the wooden bench against the wall, “shoes.”

You look down and nod. You kneel to unlace your work sneakers and put them on the rack. He sits beside the duffel as he works at loosening his boots.

You tear your attention from the tear drop bulbs of the chandelier light above and look at him. Like really look at him. He’s in all black like always. His hair is a similarly dark hue and a shadow of stubble never leaves his square jaw. His shoulders are broad and straight and even sitting, he looks huge. He looks up and narrows his eyes as he catches your gaze.

“Sir, er, Brock,” you twist your palms together.

“Yes, baby,” he sits up, his shoulders squaring. The pet name tweaks in your stomach.

“Erm...” you peer around. “I... I don’t know.”

“You don’t like it?” He stands and you take a step back. “We can update it.”

“Um, no, it’s... pretty but... what... what am I doing here?”

He snorts. It’s as close to laughter as he’s come.

“Whatever you want, baby.” He nears and reaches for you. You wince as he cradles the back of your head and draws you close. “It’s our home, we make the rules.”

He bends and kisses your forehead. You gulp as the heavy scent of his cologne strangles you. His fingers curl into your scalp and he hums. He hesitates for just a moment before he pulls back.

You suck your lip in under your teeth and turn away. You’re buzzing from his proximity. The way he crowds you is unnerving. Everything about him is.

You sense him watching you as you tiptoe around the bottom of the staircase and stop to stare at the framed painting of a woman in 19th century garb. She seems familiar as she sits on a stool in flowing ivory and pets a lamb, her stomach swollen with child.

“Like I said, you can change it,” he grits as he comes closer. “Have a look around. Explore. It’s all yours.”

You flinch and bat your eyes at the picture. This is real. You peek over at the duffle bag as the horror rolls up your spine. You don’t think you’re ever going back to your old life. This man won’t let you.

You continue down the hallway next to the stairs if only to get space from him and your looming fear. You turn to look into the den. A long sofa and cushy armchairs, bookcases on either side of the vintage fire stove and a rustic rug across the aged wooden floor. You can’t deny that it’s cozy.

He lurks like a shadow but allows you enough space to make your own way through the place. The kitchen is wrought in walnut and iron. A gas stove, a black fridge, and a dishwasher to boot. The walk-in pantry is stocked to the ceiling. You back out as he leans in the crook of the counter.

“There’s more upstairs, baby.”

You take his subtle directive and retrace your path. The dining room on the other side of the stairs gets only a quick glance before you climb to the next floor. Another hallway with several doors. A bathroom with a clawfoot tub and separate shower booth, a linen closet, and office, and the main bedroom. You stop in the last and stare at the four-postered bed.

You retreat and pass Brock as he stands against the wall, halfway up the stairs. There’s another door but it doesn’t open. You don’t try to get past the lock. You go back to look down at him.

“It’s nice, er... Brock.”

“All for you,” he turns and climbs up patiently.

“I--” your wring your hands, “really?” You look one way then the other, “thanks, but...”

“You shouldn't chew your lip. It’s already chapped.” He grabs your hands and pulls them apart, “stop picking at your nails.”

“Sorry, I--”

“Don’t be. I’ll take care of ya until you take care of yourself,” he brings your hands up between his, grazing his calloused skin over yours. He turns your palms to his and pushes his fingers between yours. His cheek dimples and he guides your hands to his chest. “You’ll be safe here.”

You nod and stay silent. His warmth seep through his shirt into your hands. It adds to the sheen of sweat speckling over your body. That fiery heat of fear, the nip of the inevitable. You still can’t wrap your head around it all but you know deep down, you’re not going back to your boxy apartment.

#brock rumlow #dark brock rumlow #dark!brock rumlow #brock rumlow x reader #series #drabble #crossbones #no sugar tonight #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america

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edgessunflower · 10 months ago

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Sleep stream

Pairing: Judgement day x Fem reader

Description: Your partners join you on your sleep stream leading to a tender moment caught by fans

Gif credits to @mxmoth

You fix up the couch as your partners come home jumping in Damian's arms while everyone else either changes, showers, or grabs food before joining you back in the living room in pajamas since it was night time all five of you piling up on the couch with snacks, drinks, dinner, and chargers. Everyone jumps at the test clip to make sure the speaker next to the table works "Okay chat that's good thank you a bit too loud" all of you joke around jumping, laughing, or questioning what the chat sends laughing when the chat sends the regular clip of Edge and Christian causing chaos throughout the years which is what someone sends to you every stream followed by a Gordon Ramsay ear rape clip of him screaming "It's raw!", "Where's the lamb sauce!", "You fucking donkey", and finally "Fuck off" soon the stream turns to chaos of being jump scared, yelping when Finn bites your hand, screaming and laughing when Dom and Rhea tickle you, and damian accidentally pulling your shorts down as you get up thankfully you were out of view of the camera but that doesn't stop your yell and the laughter between all of you that lasts for twenty minutes of the two hour, fifty minute, and seventeen second video managing to catch your breaths before all of you were cuddling and watching movies in between the clips dancing whenever certain songs would play even salsa dancing with damian when someone sent in Spanish music in followed by you and dom slow dancing to his uncle Eddie's old WCW theme song which fans record absolutely melting from the cute moment. After a few hours of laughter, yells of "What the fuck!", "Mami's always on top", "Dom's baby leave him alone", and "Y/N is our's she's our baby girl" you blush lightly as they all share a soft kiss with you before the Where is she dark knight ear rape plays you and dom laughing like little kids each of you taking a bathroom break and eating leftovers from dinner laying with your head in rhea's lap braiding damian's wavy hair before you were sandwiched between him and dom falling asleep as the last few videos played on with different reactions from the group until they look in the chat with everyone saying there were no more clips each of them lightly shaking you before damian kisses on your neck "Bebe there's no more clips stream's over" you immediately tell them to end the stream making rhea laugh as dom talks to the chat one final time all of you laughing at the clip of edge and christian again like earlier before ending the stream being carried upstairs to bed by rhea sharing snuggles and kisses before asleep molded between damian and rhea.

#wwe x reader #damian priest #finn balor x reader #wwe #damian priest x reader #rhea ripley #the judgement day x reader #finn balor #rhea ripley x reader #dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio x reader #the judgement day

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thyfleshc0nsumed · 4 months ago

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I was 19, wearing the only flattering dress I had. It was all black, a rough but not scratchy fabric, flared at the waist. The bust looked pretty good on me. I bought it from a used clothes store about two months after I started publicly crossdressing when I was 16. At 17, I wore it to my grandfather’s funeral, and seven months later to my friend Liam’s funeral. That night was a different sort of occasion.

Around 11:30 I parked my car at a Comfort Inn just off the highway, about 25 minutes from my suburban apartment and sat for a few moments, finishing my cigarette, putting it out on the side of my car. I always took a moment after parking to sit with myself before going to meet someone. I was nervous, not fearful, though maybe a smarter person would have been, just as a measure of caution.

It wasn’t my first time werking, but I was still pretty green, I had only been in the real-deal-pay-to-play game for a couple months, mostly doing blow and gos before that. Full service felt like hot girl shit, it was different from the eyes-closed blowjobs I had been giving since I was 15. I was still a sexual commodity, but a sexual commodity they were willing to get a motel room for and drop more than $20 on, so I actually bothered to play dress up--and shower--for it.

I walked into the building, passed the reception desk, not paying them any mind, knowing they’d see me leave in about an hour and know exactly what I was there to do. After a trek through a few dimly lit hallways, I found the room he told me he was in and I knocked. The knocking on the door is always the scariest moment of a smooth and safe job. I always envision some vacationing mother coming to the door, distraught at having to see a fat tgirl dressed up like a whore and telling me “No, we didn’t order a prostitute, you should try 1106, this is 1160.”

Luckily, for both me and this imagined middle aged woman, I got the right room. The john opened up the door and let me in. I saw the money already laid out onto the table, quickly counted it, and put it into my purse, which I set down. He sauntered over and wrapped his arms around me. He was a head and a half taller than I was and wasted no time in getting physical. After only a couple of minutes, I was laying on my back on the bed, the john kissing my legs, up to my crotch. This was a “I want to do whatever makes you feel good” john, which are actually much harder to work for than the “shut up and suck my dick, faggot” johns. I can suck a dick, but I can’t really act, though I ended up seeing this man a couple more times over the next year, so either I can act well enough or I just have a monopoly on fat non-passing tranny prostitutes in the west suburbs of Chicago.

There’s a certain way this kind of john carries himself while having sex: he moves as if trying to be seductive and sexy, as if to pretend he won me with wit and attractiveness rather than the promise of a small wad of twenties. This sort of john’s ultimate fantasy is to have sexually pleased someone–anyone!--else, a thing they are so unable to do that they have to pay a teenager to pretend that they give great head. This john did these soft, light touches, that I had to fight very hard against bursting into laughter from. The only way I can describe the head he gave is that noise that Anthony Hopkins makes in Silence of the Lambs. after he says “I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.” Fththththth.

About fifteen minutes into his lease on my body, he pulled away from me and said, “Hey baby, would you mind if I did a line off you?”

I sincerely thought about it for a moment, as it was clear he was genuinely asking. I wanted the anecdote and said yes.

He walked over to his jacket and grabbed a smallish baggie of coke and came back over to the bed, He grabbed a pinch, deposited it in a line on my left breast, and made another attempt at that seductive movement, his head bobbing and swaying for a few moments before he swooped down like a plane finally landing after circling the runway, opening his mouth as he did, and licking the line up with his tongue.

Had I not been being paid for my composure, I would have burst into laughter, the man might as well have just rubbed lidocaine on his gums. Yet again, a straight face was kept, and we got back to business.

Ten to fifteen minutes after his first line, I was laying on my stomach and he was kissing my ass and legs. Again, he asked me if he could do another line, and again, I said yes.

It is my genuinely held belief that should I, in the state of health I find myself in, ever do cocaine my heart will explode and my eyeballs will pop out of my head and dangle as in cartoons. However, simply through being a rational, reasonable human being, if I were to make the decision to both do coke, and do it off of someone’s ass, I would have a clear path on how I would accomplish that task–snort a horizontally placed line off of a cheek. My very own Mr. Lecter, however, is an outside the box thinker.

I felt a hand spread my asscheeks apart. He let out an excited sigh. His tongue landed between my cheeks, a full inch behind my asshole. It drew a line up, passed my tailbone, and into the Fat Bitch Mini Crack. After the briefest layover, his tongue took flight once more, seats now filled with coke and ass lint.

#i wrote this a couple years ago #thought itd be funny to share #emtirely true

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wrestletotheground · 11 months ago

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snap out of it - ross macdonald x reader

your boyfriend helps ease the tension when you're feeling stressed..

cw: 18+ minors dni!! smut, dom!ross, f!sub!reader, kitchen sex, fingering, d word, unprotected sex, p in v, orgasm denial, stomach bulging, squirting, degradation, lowkey kinda toxic but in a hot way <3

wc: 2.4k

you're walking- no. storming around the house like a raging bull. for what reason you don't even know. maybe it's the party you're hosting tomorrow, and the fact the house is an absolute mess.

you've woken up in such a mood, feeling like you're going crazy when every little inconvenience is piling up and fuelling the fire. there was no hot water in the shower, you burnt your toast for breakfast, and you're now running around in a frenzy trying to sort everything as if you're being hunted for sport. feminine rage, if you will.

you're muttering under your breath, picking through the piles of clutter in the kitchen when you're startled by your boyfriend placing a hand on your lower back. you jump, so lost in your thoughts that you didn't hear him coming.

'hi baby, whatcha doing?' he asks, wrapping his arm around your waist before you step away from him, rolling your eyes at his cheerful tone.

'ross, i'm sorry, I love you, but fuck off, I've so many things to do I don't need you distracting me, I've been cleaning all day and the place still looks the same and URGGH,' you practically scream, holding your head in your hands.

guilt washes over you, realising you've just essentially snapped at him over nothing, but you're too worked up to backtrack now. you continue what you were doing, ignoring ross' eyes burning a hole into the back of your head. you lift an empty wine bottle from the table to clear it away and start cursing under your breath when you notice it's left a stain that you're gonna have to sort out on top of everything else.

'darling you're too stressed over this, there's no need, just take a break and chill out, yeah?' rage pumps through your body. even though you know he's just trying to help, you can sense an undertone - an edge - in his voice that would usually have you on your knees already, but right now, you're in no mood for it.

'no, look, I've been putting it off it's just- there's so much to do, I'll be fine, okay?' it comes out more frantic and loud than you anticipated, making his face crease in concern. he puts a hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

'look at me,' he orders. you sigh and turn to look up at him, heart still pounding partly from the stress and now also from the intense look in his eyes. his hands are warm and heavy on your waist now, gripping onto you like you'd float away if he let go.

'I'm gonna fuck you until you calm down and you can't think of anything else but my name, and you're gonna fucking take it'.

okay, maybe you are in the mood for it. your stomach flutters and you nod silently, feeling like a lamb under the thumb of a lion. his soft yet demanding tone always makes you so turned on you give in immediately. 'there we go darling, daddy's gonna make you feel better, hm?' he says as one hand comes up to wrap around your neck, pushing in gently.

that word sends a rush of excitement coursing through you, and you manage to get out a strangled mix between 'yes' and a moan. you'll be good for him if it's the last thing you do, and you're so riled up you're already starting to channel that rage into desire.

you go to start towards the bedroom before he grabs you roughly, stopping you in your tracks yet again. 'where do you think you're going honey? you're gonna take it here like a good pet.' his tone is stern. 'but the-,' he cuts you off by slapping his palm on the side of your jaw, grabbing your chin and forcing eye contact. you feel a pulsing heat building in your core.

'do what you're told or I'll leave you here, I know you're fucking soaked for me already, clenching your thighs when I haven't even touched you,' he smirks, and you flush when you realise you've been inadvertently squeezing your legs together in a futile attempt to relieve yourself.

the thought of him taking you right here in the kitchen drives you crazier than you'd like to admit. the big sliding glass door that leads onto the garden is only a few yards away, giving any nosy neighbours a full show, but he doesn't seem to mind and you're already too desperate to stop now.

he hooks a finger through the belt loops on either side of your jeans and uses them to pull you forward, making you stumble into him. 'take these off for me darling,' he orders, breath ghosting over the side of your face as he tries to keep his composure.

you fumble around with buttons and zips until they're pooled around your ankles, stepping out and crashing your lips onto his with one hand already gripping the hair at the back of his neck. your tongues melt together, pure lust radiating off one another.

he toys with the hem of your shirt blindly until you get the hint and break away from him to throw it behind you. his breath catches in his throat and he can't help himself from grabbing at your tits instantly, pupils dilated beyond belief as he stares at them in awe. you giggle to yourself, tracing your fingertips under his tshirt and up and down his sides.

he gives you a questioning look. 'you're such a boy,' you laugh. his stare intensifies. 'oh yeah? don't think a boy would make you feel like this, hm?' he replies, bringing a hand down between your legs to cup your pussy and dipping his index finger under the thin fabric, making you moan. 'see?' he whispers. you smile coyly and kiss him again, more passionately this time.

dripping desire pools in your underwear when he grabs you and walks you a few steps towards the kitchen counter. he turns you to face away from him and pushes down on your shoulders. you fold with his touch, straightening out your back as your chest and arms fan out over the cold marble.

with one hand pinning you onto the countertop, he uses the other to rip your wet underwear down, letting them fall to your feet before you kick them away.

goosebumps prickle across your entire body when his fingers graze over your soaked cunt. you spread your legs wider instinctively, allowing him easier access. 'so responsive for me,' he mumbles behind you. he leans over your back, moving your hair to one side to nip and suck at your neck.

without warning, he shoves two fingers inside you, making you scream out in surprise and pleasure. he instantly takes his hand away and you exhale sharply at the sudden loss of contact before it comes back to land a sharp slap on your ass. 'shut the fuck up screaming like some sort of crazy bitch, the neighbours are gonna hear you. don't want them to know how much of a little slut you are do we?' you shake your head too quickly in response, teeth digging into your bottom lip.

after a moment of letting you sit in shame, humiliation, he plunges his fingers back in; this time you know better than to make too much noise. 'good girl, I know baby, I know,' he coos, gazing down at your trembling figure as his fingers work in and out of you.

'mmplease, feel so good,' you whimper, your hips jerking into him every time his thumb swipes your aching bud. the need for release is all consuming. the effect he has on you is unparalleled by anyone else. the way he works you up so much just to watch you crumble and writhe under him is enough to make you submit to his every word.

every bend and thrust of his fingers is delicate and precise, hitting all the right spots to have you doubled over in ecstasy, leaning your whole body weight on the counter to hold yourself up. 'gonna cum, please, ross, SHIT- what the fuck,' you practically sob, your climax that was right at your fingertips being suddenly ripped away from you. the second he knew you were on the edge, he stopped, pulling out his soaked fingers and drying them on your back. your head drops downwards in frustration as the fuzzy feeling inside you dissipates.

'you don't get to cum until I fucking say so, got it?' you let out a strained 'yes' sound, more of a whimper than anything. you nod your head and let your eyes fall shut in relief when you finally hear the sound of his belt being unbuckled.

'need me to fuck you stupid so you can think straight don't you love?' he says, placing a kiss just below your ear as he pulls down the waistband of his boxers just enough to to free himself from the constraints of the tight fabric. you glance down behind you and inhale deeply at the sight of his raging erection, already leaking in his hand before he even gets you into position.

he hikes your leg up, letting it rest on his strong forearm, fingers gripping into the soft flesh inside your thigh. the air hitting your cunt makes you squirm, but you manage to keep your balance, aching for him to give you what you need.

he lines himself up and you feel yourself get wetter, dripping onto him in anticipation. he slides into you with no resistance, groaning at how wet and perfect you feel around him. the full feeling of his thick cock stretching you out makes you see stars, whining softly as he builds up to a delicious pace that practically splits you in two. 'fucking hell, so perfect, just for me,' he rambles, mind going into overdrive already. 'just for you, daddy,' you reply, knowing how feral that word makes him at the best of times.

you can slightly make out your reflection in the tiles on the wall. the distorted image shows him practically fully clothed and you bare, at his disposal to use how he wants. the sight eggs you on further, and you lean up into his chest, moaning at the new sensation of his beard tickling the side of your neck.

with the angle he's at now, he's going so deep inside you that his cock pushes out your lower stomach. you look down and nearly collapse when you see a subtle bulge just below your belly button disappear and reappear with every thrust.

ross notices it too, and trails his hand down your stomach until he feels it. something feral unlocks in his brain when he feels the bump protruding, making him groan into your ear and fuck into you harder, somehow even closer now.

'shit, you feel that? feel how well you're taking me angel?' he says, pressing in on the spot. 'fuck, yes, more, please, daddy,' you whine, gasping when he starts groping at your tits, his chin resting on your shoulder as he teeters closer and closer to the edge.

'more, huh? this not enough for you?' you shake your head, and you can feel him getting more riled up by your reaction as his cock throbs inside you.

the knot in your stomach tightens further as his right hand moves down to circle your throbbing clit. you cry out at the sensation of him all over you all at once, and it takes everything in you not to let your thighs clamp shut. his name echoes from your mouth like a prayer.

the pressure is steadily mounting inside you, and you feel like you could let go any second. 'close... mm-' he slaps his hand onto your cunt, just above where he's pumping in and out of you, making you whine. 'i told you, you're not gonna cum until I say, need to teach you some fucking manners, brat,' he punctuates the last word with another harsh tap with his fingertips before continuing agonisingly slow circles.

the sting of the slaps mixed with the soothing warmth of his touch sends you into overdrive. the cold countertop digs into your palms, using it as leverage to push yourself impossibly further into him, following his pace carefully.

'jesus christ, ross, fuck, please let me cum,' you moan through gritted teeth. you don't think you've ever been this worked up, with him denying you of your orgasm twice already. you feel wound up, like a ticking time bomb that could explode any minute, and fuck, you need to, but you'll strain yourself to the last second to please him.

your core is on fire, warmth spreading all over your body, you can nearly hear the ringing in your ears already and you're about to start begging again before he snaps you out of your head. 'go on. cum all over daddy's cock, that's it- shit,' he curses when you clench tightly around him, the coil in your stomach finally snapping. you cry out as you gush all over him, little squirts splashing from you onto the floor in time with his movements. you grab onto him, pushing his hand onto your clit harder to work you through your high, the head rush like nothing you've ever felt before. it's electric, like a static current washing over you as your whole body convulses.

when he sees the pool of your slick shining on the tiled floor, it's over for him. his groans get louder and with one final push and a 'FUCK,' he tips over the edge, pulsing inside you and painting your pussy white.

your head feels hazy as you catch your breath, slowly coming back to reality. you barely register what's happened with the euphoria lingering in your body. 'did I...' you look down at the mess you made and realise you just squirted all over the kitchen and desecrated ross' hand and jeans in the process. 'fuck, that was so hot, i'm- christ,' he laughs, his head dropping onto your shoulder in disbelief.

'thank you,' you whisper. the stress that's been weighing on your chest all day has completely disappeared, but you're so fucked out you can't find any more words. he lets out a breathy laugh and braces you as he pulls out gently, holding you upright as you stand on two feet again.

'you were right, I'm not stressed anymore,' you smile, placing a soft kiss on his lips before starting to redress. 'daddy's always right,' he teases, a cheeky grin spread across his face.

#runs away and goes back into hiding #ross macdonald #ross macdonald oneshot #the 1975 smut #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald smut #the 1975 #ross macdonald imagine #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy #adam hann #george daniel #not a huge fan of this but we move 💅

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ghostgorlsworld · 1 year ago

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Johnny Boy (Chapter 1) Werewolf! Soap x reader

Once upon a time, you would've done anything for John Mctavish. He had been your older brother's cool best friend, and you were always desperate for him to see you as more--until one fateful night that ends up with you pregnant and him...gone. Fast forward six years and you've made a good life for yourself with your daughter Emma, with Johnny none the wiser. Until one day, he decides to knock on your door.

Warnings: this will be dark Johnny, he's a werewolf so in my fics they don't really have the same morals. There will be smut in the future, and this will be quite a slowburn.

PS. shoutout to @ceilidho for inspiring this Johnny fic, especially in the future you will see Johnny calls reader "kitty" and ceilidho absolutely came up with that amazing nickname and I love them for it :) Read their stuff for more Johnny fics!

You couldn’t remember the last time Emma had slept through the night.

She was always a restless little thing, even as a baby. She hardly cried during her first year of life, quiet as a lamb with her wide blue eyes and pursed mouth, squirming out of swaddles and cradles with a single-minded determination. Your wee old man, you used to say, always looking out at the world and finding it lacking.

She didn’t get those blue eyes from you, though you wish she had. It was as if you weren’t allowed to forget him.

Emma was curled around you like a cat, her dark hair sprawled across your pillow. She didn’t like to be alone at night, but that was common for baby wolves, always searching for the closest source of warmth.

You spent half your time researching, reading books like How to Raise a Wolf Pup 101, or Ensuring Your Child Stays Connected to Their Inner Animal and enrolling her into a mixed kindergarten, where pups and children co-mingled (usually) without incident. It helped that you had grown up with a werewolf, you could look at his early life and see the flaws in the way his parents raised him.

You always worried, worried that you weren’t doing as good a job as someone like her would, worried that you weren’t feeding her a proper diet despite the fact that you spent another good chunk of your time preparing raw meat to mix with her school lunch. She was so small for her age, but she had John’s spirit, all wild-hair and quick temper.

Today was going to be a hard day for you both. Today was the day of the funeral.

Emma’s great grandfather took a turn last week and died at a rather impressive age, considering his history. He was a charming old wolf, but back in the day had belonged to the underground fighting rings London used to harbor, where wolves and humans alike ripped each other apart in grimy warehouses and subway tunnels. You had a suspicion that he had involved John in it a handful of times, when Johnny was just a skinny teenager with bruised knuckles.

But Emma loved Grandpa Jack, and the funeral wasn’t going to be easy for her. She understood death in a way you hadn’t when you were six, hearing the old man’s heart stop from across the hospital lobby during your visit last week.

Emma shifted against your neck, breathing in your smell. It was as comforting for you as it was for her , her hair tickling your nose.

“Emma?” You whispered, jostling her. “Emma, it’s time to get up.” It was already eight, and the funeral was going to be at ten. You needed a shower and Emma needed breakfast–nothing put her in a worse mood than skipping breakfast.

Emma grumbled, tucking herself deeper in the blankets. You smiled to yourself, sliding out of the blankets. “Fine, but you’re getting up when I’m out of the shower.”

She nodded, tucking her head under the pillows. In another life, John used to do the same thing, growling whenever you tried to wake him before ten.

You had thought of him often lately. You blamed it on Jack’s death, the scary thought that John might actually turn up at the funeral–but Tom had reassured you that the last he had heard from John was that he was in the Middle East, a half a world away.

You undressed, laying out the neat black dress and ballet flats you had chosen the night before. You kept the door cracked, so you could keep an eye on Emma.

If Jack hadn’t been Emma’s grandfather figure, you would simply not go. John’s mother liked you well enough, at least, more than she liked her son, but you understood why he left.

Not enough to forgive him for it, of course, but that was probably because he spent one night with you, knocked you up, and then disappeared completely for four years. He resurfaced two years ago, reaching out to Tom, your brother and his best friend, by sending an expletive-filled letter about the violent and bloody years he had spent in the military. Tommy came to you first and asked if you wanted him to know about Emma.

That was the kicker. When you learned you were pregnant, you spent months and months trying to reach him, calling whatever high-ranking officer you could find–but they all said the same thing: John Mctavish agreed to have his life before the military erased in the records, therefore he no longer existed.

He had no intention of coming back. And he didn’t even attempt to contact you along with Tommy, the girl that he had grown up with, the girl that used to love him more than anything in the world.

Emma was awake by the time you were out and dressed, her eyes bright at the thought of breakfast.

“Cereal?” She asked hopefully.

You opened your mouth to refuse, thinking of the sugar but then you remembered that she was going to have to see her grandfather’s corpse today. You shrugged, “Sure, Em, as long as you have eggs too.” Emma nodded eagerly. She had the appetite of a grown man, and wasn’t particularly picky–something you were grateful for every day.

She was quiet as you cooked, her eyes focused on your black dress. “Do you think Grandpa Jack is going to haunt us?”

You paused, halfway through flipping a fried egg. With Emma, it was best to really think about your answer. “Well,” you said, gesturing for her to start on her plate of raw, sliced liver. “Do you want him to?” “I think so. He could just stay in his armchair like he always used to,” Emma said thoughtfully. “We should leave one of his books out for him, just in case.” Her obsession with ghosts started when bloody Tom let her watch one of those cheesy ghost-hunting shows. Instead of being terrified, she found it exciting, the thought that people can remain even in death.

To tell her that Grandpa Jack wasn’t going to prop his ghostly specter up on your ratty armchair and read his ancient western novels would break her heart. So you nodded, scraping two eggs onto her plate with the liver. “Alright. We’ll pick one before the funeral. I’m sure he’ll need a break from your cousins bickering by now.” She smiled and dove into the liver. It was good for her, of course, the vitamins and the minerals in organ meat, but that didn’t make you any less squeamish watching your child tearing into the raw flesh.

Your own breakfast was a cup of black coffee and nerves, your stomach twisting into knots. He wasn’t going to be there, you told yourself. He had stayed away for this long, your idyllic little life with your daughter and your job at the library wasn’t going to be interrupted by the man that had abandoned you.

You didn’t want things to change. You didn’t want him here, in your space, with your daughter that you raised alone.

Jack and Tom had helped of course. The old man had done his best to teach your little girl to not chew on the furniture or chase the squirrels up the tree, and your parents and Tom spoiled her endlessly.

Emma helped you wash and dry the dishes, nuzzling your hip affectionately. “You smell like you did when you went to work at the book place,” she said, sensing your anxiety. “How come? Do you think Grandpa Jack’s family’ll ruin things?”

Jack’s family, not John’s. You hadn’t told her much about her biological father, and Emma was observant enough to understand that he wasn’t ever going to be around. It didn’t seem to bother her, she had enough males in her life patting her head and teaching her how to play rugby.

“No, of course not, bear,” you said, tweaking one of her dark pigtails. “I’m just…I’m really sad. I’m going to miss your grandfather.”

She nodded, her mouth pursing in that mournful way she did when she was a baby. Back then, you had convinced herself it meant that she somehow knew her father wasn’t there, that you were doing this all alone and she knew you would fuck it up. “I still smell him in the living room.”

You kissed the soft crown of her head. “I know, bear, I’m sorry.” Together, you picked one of his Louis L’Amour novels off your rickety little bookshelf. “This was the one he was reading,” Emma said, carefully opening it to the page he had dog-eared. “We’ve got to remember to turn the pages every day, Mommy. He always reads so slow.”

“Once in the morning and once in the evening,” you agreed, patting the worn-down leather. His imprint was still in the cushions, a big, tall man worn down by years of violence.

You were going to miss him. He had come to your door shortly after Emma was born, a suitcase in hand. “I’m moving in, love,” he said. “She’ll need a wolf in her life and I’m all you’ve got.” You could have cried with relief back then. He had had such a way with her, always shushing her cries by cupping her in his big, callused hands and bringing her to his barrel chest.

“I raised Johnny and fucked it up,” he had said, following the tiny whorl of her ear with the tip of his finger. “I’ll do my best to help you with her, pup, you loved my boy more than he deserved.”

You helped Emma into her frilly black dress, the one Jack had chosen himself. He wanted to buy her something nice, to be his darling little granddaughter for him one last time.

She sat quietly while you braided her hair, uncharacteristically still. “Ready?” You asked.

She nodded, glancing one last time to the Louis L’Amour on the armchair.

Tom greeted the two of you at the door, a tall, skinny man that still looked like the stubborn big brother you knew. He had retired from the military last year to settle down in the house across from yours and got a job doing the only thing he really liked doing–which was cooking french dishes for eight hours a day and shouting until he was blue in the face.

He smiled sadly, sweeping Emma up in a hug. “Hullo, bear,” he said, kissing her cheek. “You look dashing.”

“Grandpa Jack made me wear it,” she said, frowning disapprovingly at the ruffles on the sleeves.

Tom laughed, but it was hollow, his eyes shifting to you before swiftly flitting away. “Of course he did. Here, I’ll watch Em for a bit if you want to mingle, Johnny’s mother was looking for you.”

Of course she was. Anxiety twisted deeper in your gut, the coffee bubbling up your throat. “Alright,” you said lightly, forcing a nod. “I’ll be inside if you need me, bear.” She nodded, turning to her uncle with a single minded purpose–to convince him to let her have some of the biscuits in the tin he had brought.

Susan, John’s mum, was sitting in the lobby of the funeral home, sorting the trays of casserole into neat rows. She was a thin, tired woman with the same blue eyes as your daughter.

“Susan,” you said, “I heard you were looking for me.” You opened your arms as she came in for a hug, her body brittle against yours. She had been sober for a few years now, mostly because you had refused to let her near Emma while she was drinking–which used to be every day.

“I need to tell you something,” Susan said, gripping your palms in a hard grip. “I just…I don’t know with Daddy gone now…” her eyes welled up.

You hugged her again, shushing her gently. “It’s alright, Susan,” you said, “Whatever it is can’t be that bad.”

Looking back, you were a right bloody idiot. Susan pulled away from you, joy sparking her face as she smiled. “Honey, he’s home.” Stupidly, you thought she was talking about Jack.

She wasn’t.

The hair prickled at the back of your neck, your body aware before your brain could catch up. Your stomach twisted, dread spilling down your spine like ice.

He was behind you.

You refused to look, your eyes still locked with Susan’s teary gaze. “No,” you said quietly. “No, tell me you didn’t just let me walk into this.”

She had understood when you asked her not to tell John. She understood that her son had chosen war over you once again and that he didn’t deserve to be in your life.

“I’m sorry,” Susan said, squeezing your arm apologetically.

A hand brushed against your shoulder, big and warm and so familiar it hurt.

“Hey, bonnie,” John said roughly, his voice deeper than it used to be.

You couldn’t help yourself, you had to see.

You pushed away from Susan, looking up into the familiar face of John Mctavish.

He looked ten years older, but no less handsome, scars turning his face into something you didn’t recognize, something like a predator. He was still keeping his hair in that stupid fucking mowhawk, but he had gained an impressive amount of mass, so tall and thick he looked like a stranger.

You couldn’t breathe.

Johnny. The only man you’ve ever loved. The father of your child.

The man that took your virginity and abandoned you, all in one night.

“It’s been awhile,” he said, his accent twisting up his words.

You blinked.

Emma.

Emma was outside and he had no idea. You had to leave, take her away from him.

“It could have been longer, John,” you said, your voice so cold it stung your tongue as you spoke. The ache in your chest was overtaken by rage, pure and hot. “Excuse me.” You pushed past him, suddenly grateful you hadn’t worn the heels when your knees gave a funny little tremble.

He moved, as if to catch you, as if to hold you still while he came up with whatever bullshit excuse he could think of–but you were faster, putting the crowd and tables between the two of you as you made a break for the door.

Emma, Emma, Emma.

Tom was with her, her skinny knees in his lap as they split a delicate almond biscuit.

“Mum?” Her head went up, sniffing the air. “Mum, what’s wrong?”

Tom knew. He looked at you, guilty as sin. “Love,” he began, but you were already ripping her out of his arms, her arms and legs flailing as you made a break for the parking lot.

The funeral home’s door burst open, slamming against the wall with a crash that had you shoving your daughter into the back of your car, utterly deaf to her squawking.

But John had already seen her. Smelled her. He stood in front of you, frozen in place.

“How old is she?” He asked, deadly calm. His blue eyes burned, like they used to when he was a teen, hormonal and angry. Always so angry.

“Go fuck yourself, Mctavish,” you snapped, reaching for your door.

He was already there, hand slamming against your car door with a crack that split the air. Johnny really was different now, confidence stiffening his spine, his sheer size making you take a step back.

What did they do to him overseas? He looked like he was about to eat you alive.

“No,” John said, sounding like a wounded animal. “Ye wouldn’t keep something like this from me.” “You’re right,” you said coldly. “I wouldn’t have. Then I spent three years of her life waiting for you to get your head out of your fucking arse. I called. I emailed. I sent a hundred fucking letters.” He made a noise like you gutted him, his eyes going to Emma.

She was curled up in the back of your car, wide-eyed and staring at John. Her father.

Of course she would know. She could smell it on him, her own flesh and blood.

“I…I didn’t know,” John said, “Hen, look at me-”

“I don’t care.” You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to dig your nails into his skin and hurt him like he hurt you. “We don’t need you, we never needed you. I loved you, and you left for years. Deal with the consequences.”

Johnny Mctavish, a wolf, a soldier, flinched from you.

It wasn’t the victory you thought it would be.

You ripped your door open, and he let you. You put the car in reverse and sped out of the parking lot, and he let you.

“Mum?” Emma said cautiously. “Mum was that…”

“We’ll never see him again, Em,” you said, utterly sure of that fact. “Forget him. John always runs.”

#soap mactavish #cod x reader #cod mw3 #soap x reader #john soap mactavish

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marshmallowcheeps · 17 days ago

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Hiiii Lamb,

I have brought a uhm, ball of yarn? for the shower.

I uh- panicked.

Anyways, Is Narinder as excited as you are for the child?

The Lamb has been gifted a Yarn Ball

Lamb: Oh this will be perfect! Here, for you my love! Narinder: No Lamb, that is for the child (Lamb throws the ball to Narinder and he is immediately entranced) Lamb: Thanks, He’s been very nervous and needed to wind down, but we’re both really excited!

Thank you for your gift!

#marshmallowposting #narilamb #cult of the lamb #Lamb's Baby Shower #AskTheSquishies #pregnancy cw

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drama-trauma · 6 months ago

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Ignorance is bliss

Imagine being reincarnated into a world filled with yanderes. Being a yandere or their beloved is the norm. Murder, drugs, aphrodisiacs - all are legal in the name of love.

But then you go ahead and get sent there. You're forced to play the role of the beloved. Being showered with more affection and attention than what you needed or could take.

It was fucking tiresome.

There's a catch in the story. You're not the naive or innocent lamb that the yanderes think you are. Infact, you used to be a serial killer in your past life. Being a beloved was boring for you. A killer like you being reduced to act all scared and sacred.

To make things worse, you even had a lover in your past life! You just couldn't stop wondering whether your love died or left your shared home. Is he mourning over your loss?Did he know you died?Did he starve to death?Did the loneliness get to him?Did he realise just how much of a great partner you were?

Oh who were you kidding?He would've laughed at your miserable end.He probably starved to death. Afterall you two were the only ones in that house. The doors were locked. Sharp objects avoided. Cameras installed. And much more for the safety of your sweetheart!

So when you find someone who looks just like your sweetheart, ofcourse you had to find out more!So when he looks up at you with his adorable eyes tearing up , you knew he was yours.Even better,when you realise he was your lover from your past life! Poor him! How tragic it must've been to starve to death!

You again try to be with your love. The only problem is the other pests hogging over you. Your love was assigned as a yandere! Who was the system kidding? He's a poor baby who can't do anything without you. You made sure of it.So slowly but surely you get rid of your yanderes and his beloved. Daniel made a nice dinner and haruki was great for soup!You had nice meals for a while.

After all that.....mess, you go live with your love peacefully. But why does it feel like something or someone's missing? Oh! Right. What happened to Akio? You don't remember getting rid of him.

Memory was never your strong suite. But why does it feel like it worsened? Especially after meeting your love. But your love seems weirdly glad to be with you again so who are you to bother with such trivialities? So you happily ignore the smile that you feel creeping upon his face during a hug. Afterall , ignorance is a bliss.

#x gn reader #imagine #fics #x male reader #x female reader #x gender neutral reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere male #yanderes #yandere x reader #yandere x yandere #tw cannibalism #tw death #tw manipulation #yandere male x yandere #yandere males #yandere x beloved #isekaid reader #reincarnated reader

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javiersprincess · 2 years ago

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i’ve heard u have some…dubcon sae thoughts lamb…….

𝐅𝚶𝐑 𝐌𝚬 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝚶𝐑 𝐌𝚬 𝚶𝐍𝐋𝐘

Tags: fem! Reader dubcon, fingering, somnophilia, established relationship, reader’s clothes are described as “skimpy”, possessiveness, reader has japanese nationally (they grew up there!) - let me know if i missed something

Synopsis: You’re the only thing Sae loves from Japan, so just keep being pretty for him?

Sae gets home from his red-eye flight at two in the morning - some parts of the cities are still alive but your apartment is dead quiet, the lights are out and he’s sure when he steps in you’ll be in bed. Tucked in your too-soft blankets that are soft and fuzzy because you always run too cold for your own good. He bets you even have that little pink bear that you’ve had since you were a baby; you always bring it into your bed when you miss him. Sae can’t help but think it’s cute, how earnestly you miss him even if all he’ll do is scoff and keep his cool facade.

You gave him keys to your place a long time ago, a little too soon in his opinion but he’s glad you trust him enough to enter your home when he’s too tired for the long trip to his family home. The scent of honey and vanilla is in the air, a ghost of a smile on his handsome face when he sees you light the candle he brought you from Spain. The soft green of the wax reminded him of you - you were his green, his safe space like an open meadow free from any sort of worry. He sets his bag down quietly and takes off his shoes, putting them aside neatly in the clean space that shines in the soft light from the lamps in the hall that automatically turn on and off. As he walks further into your home he makes his way to the closet in the hallway, it’s where you store his spare clothes for when he drops by.

Sae is almost jealous. You have an unspoken talent for laundry, all his clothes come out smelling nicer and feeling softer when they are washed under your careful hands than his. A new set of clothes in hand he makes his way to take a quick shower - you enjoy keeping clean and Sae would rather die than bring the germs from the plane into your bed sheets that he knows you washed today. When he sees his products lining your shower he hums amusedly when grabs his shampoo and begins to lather the product in his hair.

You had even stocked up for him. How cute, how earnest, how could Sae ever stay away from you?

He’s all done now, in fifteen minutes or less, and pads quietly into your bedroom. Sae rarely smiles, wearing his emotions openly was something he never needed to do around Rin but when he went overseas at the tender age of fifteen it became his outer shell more than anything else. Now, it’s a habit he can’t curve but it helps when you are asleep and he can smile broadly as your sleeping form; your face is being smushed into the pillow and he was right, you did have the little bear at your side.

You had missed him something fierce this time around and his hand is out to pet your head in a way that makes you drowsy. Sae shakes his head when he hears sleepily mumble something that sounds like the three letters of his name and he feels you getting closer to his hand. The crown of your head fits perfectly into the palm of his hand and Sae can’t help but think if that’s what your heart weighs. He pulls back the sheets, the smell of your detergent and it’s funny how well Sae knows-

Oh.

Sae Itoshi did not expect this.

He was right about everything but what you wore to bed, makes him freeze in place. Never before had he seen so much of your skin and even his stoic outer shell crumbles when he can so blatantly take in the curve of your stomach and the swell of your hips. A soft black top that shows off your belly and shoulders paired with panties he’s never seen before. Charcoal gray, low on your hips, and trimmed by lace. Sae swallows around the lump in his throat when he greedily consumes how the skimpy underwear rests below your belly button - he can see the cute birthmark you have underneath it and it takes all he has in his heart to stop himself from reaching out to kiss the little spot.

The puppet master knows not what to do when he does not hold the strings, he wonders if maybe they have been held in your comparable dainty hand all this time.

His hand twitches and for once Sae moves without careful foresight, letting the tips of his fingers trace up the soft swell of your thighs. You’re ticklish so even the slightest touch makes you twitch and make a soft little noise that is too muddled by sleep for him to read what it means. He folds the blanket away and you whine, there is something charming in the way you curl up under him from the loss of warmth. His hands grow greedy, and the tips of his fingers become his palms to skim against the skin of your exposed belly.

He wonders if this is why cats purr as there is a flower of contentment in his chest as he paws at your skin and where he is all hard lines and definition your skin is satin and silk and all things smooth in the world. Sae doesn’t know what’s come over him, in a blink of an eye his gentle touches turn hungry and they take to separate ways. His right hand goes to the north where the swell of your chest is more prominent and his left hand goes to where your thighs meet. Desire is a tricky thing, blindsiding not only you but the object of your wanting too - it’s why you wake up with a jolt and a sleepy call of his name on your lips.

“Sae? What are you-”

“Shh, it’s okay just lay back.” he cuts off with a whisper that is as gentle as it is wicked and Sae lets his fingers sink into the plush of your breast as he traces the gusset of your panties.

“W-when did you get back?” He answers you with a hum, following the seam of your underwear until he finds the pretty little lacy that frames the soft plush of your bottom. His thumb digs into the fat, tracing the stretching marks and thumbing the cute little birthmark you have on your cheek.

“Just got here - tonight. Was going to join you in bed but then I saw you wearing this skimpy shit for me and I couldn’t help myself.” He whispers as he peels back your panties only to laugh under his breath when he can see the way a string of slick clings to the fabric. Your hand blindly reaches out, barely getting to his wrist before you feel it - his fingers swiping through your damp folds.

“Ah, Sae it’s not skimpy, s’not for you and - Sae wait please I’m too sleepy,” You whine back, twisting and arching your back as his fingers find the swelling pearl of your clit and begin to swipe at it in the way that your knees tremble. His body follows yours and he bends over you until his mouth is to your ear.

“You can go back to bed if you want. This is more for me than for you, you’re the prettiest for me when you cum.” You shudder into the pillows, turning your face back into them as you fall into a state of half sleepiness and half pleasure lidded. Sae’s finger slips inside and with the precision of a machine, he finds all your weak spots like he hasn’t been gone for four months across the world.

You moan girlish little sounds - high and thin into the pillow and you can hear Sae tease you from above you, “What? I thought you were too sleepy for this?” You don’t even have it in you to say anything back, only further melting in your place between the bed and the hardness you feel above you. In the low light, he sits back on his haunches still giving you his fingers as he watches the clear, tacky slick that seeps from you and clings to his hand down to his wrist.

“You expect me to believe this isn’t skimpy? Bet you wanted this to happen, wanted to get your little cunt finger fucked by your boyfriend, huh?” He whispers to you, loud enough that you can hear because he knows you’re still awake, the pleasure thrumming in your system too much to let you sleep deeply and truly. Your back arches deeper this time and you squeal as the band of heat that had been growing in your stomach - right underneath that cute little birthmark under your belly button snaps as you gush down the lines of his palm. Whines and huffs leave your lips, you sound like a little puppy which only endears him more to you if that was possible.

Sae feels you twitch when you feel the heat that’s being pressed against your too-sensitive cunt, his crouching all around you now, letting you feel the bulge in his sweats.

“Everything about you is for me and me only. Don’t ever forget it, got it?” You lift your face from the pillows and something in him coos at how water your eyes are as you blink away the remaining sleep that had tucked itself into them. Teal eyes glow green from greed as he looks down at you through unstyled mauve hair.

“Let me do the work, just be pretty for me, yeah?” You nod, because everything about you is for Sae and Sae only.

#lamb.writes #sae itoshi smut #itoshi sae smut #blue lock smut #bllk smut #tw:dubcon #tw: somnophilia #tw:dark content

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luv4divineruler · 2 years ago

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kai anderson x fem!reader headcannons

MOVED TO @spectr3inl0ve

authors note: this is my first time writing headcannons so naturally it wont be top tier quality! i will try to write for gender neutral readers but atm im still trying to figure out my writing style and get comfortable with it :)

please remember that these are my headcannons i have for kai and may be out of character. i do however try to keep them as realistic to his character as possible as i prefer it that way!

contains ⚠️: kai anderson, slight fluff, kai being cold ig

kai anderson is not fond of pda, unless he initiates it. this would be when hes trying to make himself look like a good partner so the public perceives him as "an average man" (i will bring up the average man again)

his staged pda may look like: hand holding, swift kisses on the cheek, arm around ur shoulder and maybe around ur waist. he would be more likely to allow u to initiate it as well. he doesnt want to be viewed as clingy or touchy

in private he is tolerant of ur kisses (on his cheek, nose, wherever), hand holding, hugging, clinging to his arm, cuddling, resting ur head on his shoulder, etc. he probably likes it, but he would never let u know that

kai has invested in stocks and a few small properties. that, combined with his job as an app developer and his parents retirement funds allows him to live comfortably. and be able to spoil u.

that being said, his love language is more likely to be gift giving.

when u wake up with kai not being by ur side, sometimes a wad of cash ranging from hundreds to thousands of dollars (lucky u ;)) will be left in his place

kai may even be gravious enough to leave a simple note reading,

"*reader*, buy yourself something nice. K.A"

though sometimes he leaves the cash not for ur shopping but for u to buy groceries, household items and things that he needs such as clothes, razors, hair dye, etc. u dont complain as u live in his house for free and he makes sure ur health is at peak condition

dates arent common, but they arent rare either so sometimes he will plan take u on a date on the days he leaves cash for u to spend on urself. on these days, the money would be accompanied by a note reading,

"I'm taking u out to dinner tonight at *place* at *time*. Dress accordingly. If you would like you may buy me something to wear to dinner. K.A"

or something along those lines. If he doesn't leave a note he'll send a text and either way he'll sign with his initials. (will def write more about this so stay tuned)

he would never let u know that he likes (not to be confused with loves) when you buy outfits for him to wear.

he probably had poor hygiene before dating u. u would've had to convince him to take showers everyday and to wash his hair more. he would shower more, but would neglect his hair. when u wash his hair, u notice how he's slightly more vulnerable with u, less hostile.

when kai needs to re-dye his hair, he asks u if u want to do it, otherwise he'd do it himself or get winter (b4 her death) to do it

this isn't original (i read it in an amazing smut but i dont remember the @ 😭) but he doesn't pay attention to conversations or u talking to him while he eats. he's focused on the food in front of him. u use this to ur advantage, getting him to buy u lavish gifts he wouldntve said yes to buying if he wasn't eating.

doesn't really give compliments of assurance, only when ure literally sobbing in his arms or in a dark corner of a room.

"I've tought you to be stronger Angel. You should be secure with who you are. It makes you impenetrable. Untouchable."

he would tell u, as he presses a hard kiss to the top of your head

would definitely have pet names for u. probably animal related like Bunny, Little Lamb (a popular one associated with kai). he would also call u Angel, maybe babe or baby. I don't see him calling u kitten or queen. sorry

when u sleep u have ur back facing him, depending on his mood u could be holding hands or he could have his arms snaked around ur waist. if hes exhausted he may let u cuddle into his chest (idk y but i feel like he'd normally have a problem with that). either way, u always kiss him goodnight, whether that'd be on his lips, cheek, head, nose, or somewhere in between. he usually wouldnt reciprocate it, but if he's feeling generous he will

soo thats finished, i am definitely going to write some oneshots based on a headcannon or 2

taglist (dm or comment to be added): omg it looks so lonely rn

#luv4divineruler #kai anderson #kai anderson headcannons #kai anderson x reader #ahs cult #ahs #american horror story #evan peters fanfic #evan peters x reader #evan peters #evan peters smut #kai anderson smut #james patrick march #tate langdon #kyle spencer #dollette #bimbo reader #fem!reader #headcannons

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vitentia · 2 years ago

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YOU WITH THE DARK CURLS, YOU WITH THE WATERCOLOR EYES .lıllıl.

pairings ━━ modern!farm!ellie x curly haired!reader (no mention of race or texture)

warnings ━━ overwhelming hair and fluff, Ellie touches your hair, idk

synopsis ━━ wash day, hell on earth, same thing, right? at least Ellie’s there as an emotional support girlfriend.

playlist ━━ dear arkansas daughter by lady lamb the beekeeper

Ellie knocked on the bathroom door in concern. She’d went out to tend to the sheep about a half hour ago when you said you’d be in the shower, when she came back in she heard no running water but the bathroom door was closed with occasional sniffles filling the silence.

“Babe? You good in there?” She knocked again.

“No.” Your voice finally reached her ears, causing her to let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m coming in, is that okay?” She waited for your agreement before fully turning the knob and stepping into the bathroom carefully.

Inside she found you in a tub of water, untangling brush in hand and tears leaving salty streaks down your cheeks, knees clutches to your chest.

She cooed at the sight and came to sit on the toilet next to you. “Aw baby, what happened?”

“I left my hair in a bun but then one chuck of hair got tangled into the hair tie and I spent so long taking it out the hair tangle in on itself and-“ you rambled angrily, tears welling in your eyes the more you spoke.

“Okay, okay.” Ellie cut you off and placed her hands on your cheeks, wiping away the tears. “Lay down.” She instructed.

You listened and let her carry your head backwards into the water. “How are the sheep?” You mumbled.

She smiled, “The sheep are good. The babies are happy.”

Tears grew in your eyes once more. “The babies, we have to name the babies.”

Ellie nodded and agreed with you, pulling your head up from the water and pumping extra conditioner into your hands.

“Wait but-“ you protested, knowing how much she hated going into town for unnecessary things.

“No, no, it’s okay. When I go back into town, I’m gonna find you a huge tub of this that’ll last you years.” She stated, sitting back against the toilet and watching you rub the conditioner back in your hair.

You sniffled and started the untangling process. “They have it on Amazon.”

“Okay, I’ll make sure to find the Amazon man and tell him to get me ten of those.” You shook your head at her unwillingness to confine to modern things unless they directly related to the farm and calmed yourself down.

Or maybe she did, her simple being in the same room as you never failed to have a better calming effect than any anxiety meds ever made. When you began to tug at your hair rougher than you knew you should in your frustration, she was there to gently place her hand on your forearm as a silent way of letting you relax.

By the time you did one side of your head, you whined in defeat and turned your back on her. “Do the back before I kill myself.”

She choked out a laugh and grabbed your untangling brush, situating herself comfortably behind you and starting from the ends of your hair to the top, sprinkling any extra conditioner when needed. It was quite the understatement to say her hands were definitely gentler than yours ever were.

Her strategy was patience, taking extra time to run through already brushed out areas to run her fingers through and taking it all in sections. By the time she reached near your ears, your eyes had lowered to a close and you no longer felt the stress of before.

“I’m done with the back.” She announced, leaning into your shoulders to plant a soft kiss.

“Mhm, no, no, come back. Do it all.” You mumbled. Ellie smiled and kissed your ear, returning to her place behind you and continuing the untangling processes.

When all was well and finished, you thanked her and stretched out your tired muscles. You turned on the faucet again and finished the rest of your routine with Ellie right by your side, sometimes making conversation, sometimes gawking at you naked but hey, can’t blame her.

When you stood up out of the bathtub, Ellie was immediately there with a towel, cheekily excited to wrap it around you.

“D’ya want me to get started on lunch?” She asked

“Are you sure? I can get dressed real quick and-“

“No, no, I have something planned. Put on a nice dress, paint your nails, put on a little something under…” you pushed her shoulder, “and then come down to the front of the house. Got it?”

“Got it.”

She planted a quick peck on your lips and walked away, whatever plan she had setting in motion.

You followed her directions and took your time styling your hair, applying extra layers of lotion and perfume, not to mention her extra instructions were carefully considered. Even after finishing all that, prim and proper, she wouldn’t let you leave the room.

“Can I come down now?” You called out into your empty room, the thin walls echoed your question down to the kitchen where Ellie was.

“Not yet!” She responded, a few kitchen utensils clattering against each other right after.

You winced, “Are you sure? I can always come and-“ You were immediately cut off by Ellie pushing the door wide open, slightly out of breath and holding a bouquet of flowers wrapped in gingham printed paper. “…help.”

Ellie breathed out a chuckle and came closer to you on the bed, holding the bouquet out for you to see. “Is it- did I do good?” She cleared her throat nervously.

You looked up at her in astonishment. “Good? Ellie, this is fucking incredible! How did you- when did you?” Shutting yourself up, you completely threw yourself into her arms, accidentally crushing the flowers.

Ellie, reluctantly, pulled away with a yelp. “Hey, hey! You’re crushin’ my hard work, babe.”

“Sorry.” You apologized but your face showed no sign of it, smile too wide as you held the bouquet in your arms.

“C’mon, there’s more where that came from.” Ellie slipped her hand into your and interlocked your fingers.

She led you out of the farmhouse and into the front yard covered in freshly cut grass. There laid an intricate set up picnic with a red and white gingham blanket that matched the flowers spread out, name brand snacks that would take Ellie a two days trip worth of, and your favorite sandwiches and fruits/veggies neatly placed in the middle. You brought your hand up to your mouth and tried to stop the tears from flowing out.

“Ellie Williams, you are such an asshole.”

She made a noise of surprise, her jaw dropping open in defense.

“I have cried too much today and here you go, making it worse.” You jokingly complained.

She laughed in surprise and wrapped her arms around you from behind, kissing your ear once more. “Cry all you want, my little crybaby.”

Ellie guided you towards the set up and you both sat down, happily devouring the food she made and the snacks she brought. She happily indulged you in everything on the blanket until you had to physically pull yourself out of her arms before your stomach exploded.

It was unclear how long you had been sitting there but when the sheep in the barn started to get fussy and the sun began it’s descent, you knew you’d spend an entire day in this exact moment if you could.

Ellie’s head rested on your thighs as your ran your hands through her short hair and the falling sunlight hit her eyes in just the right way. Her green eyes sparkled, a weight lifting off her shoulders that she never thought she’d get after Joel. Everything was perfect.

“You belong in a painting, Williams.” You said, brushing her hair away from her eyes.

She scoffed, removing her eyes from yours and looking into the sunset nearby. “Oh, shut up.”

“You shut up, why don’t you let me compliment you, huh?” You poked her cheek.

“Because that’s my job, gorgeous.” She winked up at you and deflected the conversation.

You continued, “We are stuck together for life so don’t think you can get out of this.”

“Oh please, I’d crash and burn without you, babe.”

#ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou2 x reader #tlou2 #the last of us part 2 #lgbtq

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thecapricunt1616 · 9 months ago

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The Bear & His Honey - Chapter 16

♡ Chapter Inspo: Call It What You Want (Reputation - TS) ; I want to wear his initial on a chain 'round my neck. Not because he owns me, but 'cause he really knows me. Which is more than they can say, I recall late November holdin' my breath, slowly I said "You don't need to save me, but would you run away with me?"

♡ Summary: Carmy x Winnie are finally calling things what they are after 3 months of beating around the bush, YAY!!!

♡ W/C: 10,775

♡ Posted Date: 04/05/2024

♡ A/N: Here we have chapter 16 - I hope you all like it! I have been stepping back and seeing where I want things to go, & I think I have generally a good idea now, so I was able to finish up the next 2 chapters finally haha. As per usual thank you for reading, remember requests for one shots are open - or even if you want to see WxC doing something specific let me know! I am here to please hahah one shots I've already written are on my masterlist linked below! Also - no one has asked, but I usually see people will read one chapter, then go back and read all of them 1-15, so if you want to be on a tag list so you can keep up w/ the story just tell me in the comments and i'll make one!!

♡ Warnings for BTC: Swearing, Speaking of smoking, Weed, Smut!, Nervous Carmy, Mushy fluff!!!

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡

𝒲𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒫.𝒪.𝒱. 🍯

It was a few weeks later, and the beginning of spring had well arrived. The trees were becoming green again, the flowers were blooming, and Carmy and I were still hanging out nearly every afternoon, and he was staying over nearly every night.

That Friday evening, around 11pm, after Carmy had gotten off his shift, he came over to mine and had a shower after we ate dinner that he had made us before he came over. Tonight had been a favorite - a true garbage plate per my request.

It was currently 1 am and we were snuggled up in bed, mostly I was watching a rerun of Criminal Minds, and Carmy was distracted by his phone, texting with someone back and forth.

“Did y’wanna come w’me to Richie’s Sunday? We do Palm at his usually. He��s been textin’ me about comin’ over a little earlier to help with the lamb.” He said and I looked up at him from my spot snuggled up on his chest, my cheek adorned with lines from his sweatshirt since it had been mushed there while I watched the show, my hands playing with the tie of his sweats absentmindedly so I didn’t pick my nails.

“Oh- yeah. Sure. I didn’t know you like- did that. Y’re…religious? I mean- I know the chain and everything but..” I gently play with the charm between my fingers. He smiled a bit, forefinger gently rubbing over the dark red marks in my cheek from laying.

“I mean- nah. Not really it’s more like..tradition I guess? Palm Sunday and Easter were huge when I was growin’ up. I guess it’s just an Italian thing, but it’s like- second Christmas. The whole family gets together and has a meal” he said and I nod.

“Well of course I’ll be your date baby. Thank you for asking, I assume we’re doing church? Like Christmas Eve if it’s a big thing right?” I ask and he nodded a bit.

“You don’t…you don’t have to go. I mean- I don’t go unless it’s Christmas Eve or Palm or Easter Sunday. So..but I get it if y’arent comfortable” he bit his lip nervously.

“No baby- no…I think it’s sweet. I grew up Catholic too, well- Irish Catholic. But- I was baptized, so I’m rightfully Catholic. So we can get married someday and not go to hell” I giggled and he snorts a laugh.

“Oh thank god y’re baptized baby, how could we ever marry if you haven’t devoted yourself to our lord and savior” he teased, earning a laugh from me.

“Does this mean I get to crack out my veil again? What do I wear? Well I know I can’t have my tits out - but like, color scheme for your church, still red?” I asked and he rubbed my back gently.

“Yes still red baby.” He kissed my neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin. “I didn’t know you wore a veil. You were dedicated, huh? Such a good little Catholic” he teased, pinching my bum playfully.

I laugh a bit “mmhmm- my mom was serious about it. I used to hate it but since I stopped believing in the Catholic god- er- worshiping him, anyway, I just think it’s hot. D’you think we could sneak away to the bathroom for a quickie during the service? I’ve always fantasized about fucking in a church it sounds really hot.” I said causing him to laugh into my skin.

“Babe. Holy fuckin blasphemy you trying to get on the big man’s ultimate shit list?” He bites my shoulder playfully.

“Ohhhh we’re way past it Carm. Plus- since he’s so big and mighty and he’s the one that created my twisted fucked up mind- it’s really him who thinks it’s hot. So if he’s mad it’s not on me” I giggled, poking his cheek. “D’you have a bite kink I’m not aware of sir?” I teased.

“Mmm no you just taste good, and y’so cute it just makes me wanna fuckin bite you I can’t explain it” he bites down on my neck gently, running his tongue over my skin.

“Awwww you have cute aggression?” I gently play with his curls and he chuckled into my skin, his breath causing goosebumps to appear.

“That’s a thing?” He questioned and I nod a bit, a wide smile adorning my features.

“It’s super sweet. Like…when I was at college studying, I took my first round of psych credits, and I guess that uh…when we see something that’s cute, or makes us really happy we wanna like squeeze it or bite it because we’re so overwhelmed with how cute it is that we’re like…searching for an outlet almost? But yeah, so thank you I guess. I do have the urge to just” I take his forearm, gently biting down and giggling into his skin and he chuckled.

“Y’can bite me. Maybe not in public so we don’t look like a couple’a freaks, but this is ok” he said and I released his flesh

“Oh yeah I’m just gonna bite you in front of all the staff at work next time I see you. I’ll do it when you’re really angry” I teased, lacing our fingers together and resting our hands over my tummy.

“Ugh no work talk right now baby today was fuckin’-” he rubs over his face with his other hand “remind me to never trust Richie with shipment ever again.” He grumbled, grabbing his phone to resume whatever he was doing. I mentally rolled my eyes.

Really, Richie? The one time. One time, that Carmy decides to let someone else start the day- and sleep until 5 am instead of 4- he fucks it up somehow.

“ ‘m sorry baby. You want a massage? It’s getting late. Maybe it’ll help you sleep, how’s your back?” I asked gently, rubbing his forearm.

He sighed a bit, putting his phone on the wireless charging pad on the nightstand that had begun living there since he had been sleeping over. “Hurts..Think I pulled a muscle ‘er somethin’ in my shoulder too, fuckin bags of rice were on the lowest shelf and I didn’t use my knees at all apparently” he said and I sat up, grabbing my massage oil from the nightstand.

“Alright roll over mister, no more work talk tonight, got it? Were Resting our brains now” I kiss his cheekbone and he nods tiredly, tugging off his sweatshirt and laying on his stomach.

“No more work talk” he agreed with an exhausted sigh. I warmed some of the oil in my hands, kissing the little freckles along his back as I did so and he hums softly.

“Okay so where should I start on the map baby?” I asked him. I had taught him the system my mom and I used to use when she’d give my brother and I massages as kids, where you tell a state on the map so she could better gauge where it was hurting.

“Fuckin’… Vegas to the Carolina’s. It hurts so bad babe” he said and I gently felt over his lower back, this was usually where we started, unless Wyoming and Nebraska which were more his mid back was hurting him worse, that only happened when he went too hard at the gym, though.

“It’s probably Texas. Usually Texas, babe” I said, gently working my thumbs with light pressure from the middle of his lower back outwards and he lets out a groan.

“Fuck Texas” he muttered into the pillow, causing me to giggle a bit.

“I’ve never been, I hear they have great Mexican food.” I said, adding a bit of pressure as I got to his hips where he held a lot of his stress.

“Mmm I’ve been- shit” he hissed as I work at a knot at the back of his hip. “Fuck- keep going babe- ahhh mmhmm- yes” he grumbles. I added more pressure and he sighed gratefully. “Thank you” he said softly, resting his cheek on his forearm, eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

“You’ve been? Lucky! Did you try the Mexican food?” I asked, dragging the pressure across his lower back and he moans out quietly.

“Mmhmm…Dallas…ACF conference- went in November. They do have great Mexican food. And the drinks are enormous, crazy strong for how cheap they were.” He said.

“Ooo that sounds like my kinda place. We should go on a trip sometime, if I could ever afford it that is. But a road trip would be fun” I gently rub up to his mid back.

“You don’t have t’pay anything baby, I didn’t know you wanna travel- where d’you wanna go? I just have to get the time off. That's the problem, not the money. But what’s y’dream place y’wanna go?” He asked.

“Anywhere. Well, anywhere with you. I’ve never been on a plane before, I took the train here. Cause my Grammy wouldn’t let me take a plane, since our Grandpa died in one- she says they’re bad luck. But I’ve always wondered what it was like. It seems fun. Are airports fun like they make it look in the movies?” I smile a bit, gently massaging over his ribs.

“No. Totally not. They don’t really put airports in tv and shit after 9/11 if you’ve noticed because now they’re a fuckin’ nightmare- but I mean…not as shit as being on a train for what- 30 hours babe? Y’not doin’ that t’go do that nanny thing right? I don’t want you sittin for 30 hours with y’hip.” He said and I shrug a bit, continuing to rub over his mid back with the pressure I knew he liked.

“I set a timer on my phone, and get up and walk around every 20 minutes, So it doesn’t hurt so bad. Also- it’s like…50 bucks cheaper so. 50 bucks toward my next therapy session” I say simply.

“50 bucks?! Baby. No. I’m buyin’ y’ticket and you can get there in 2 hours, so I can have you for an extra whole day. No arguing. It’s done” he said and I laugh a bit.

“Oh so you boss me around now?” I said and he smirks, looking at me over his shoulder.

“Hasn’t that been established? That I only make you do something when y’too stubborn to allow me to help?” He asked and I kiss his lips gently.

“Control freak” I teased, starting on his shoulders and his eyes flutter shut in bliss.

“Consider it payment f’r all the massages I’ll need when you get back. I dunno how I’m gonna manage babe it helps so much. Fuck ah- yes. There- there honey” he groaned as I drag my thumb with a good amount of pressure in the dip of his shoulder blade.

“Y’know you can see a real masseuse, Bear. You don’t have to torture yourself until I’m home again” I said, adding a bit more pressure and he whimpered, burying his face in the pillow.

“Mmm- don’t wanna” he said into the fabric as I work his other shoulder the same way. “Holy shiiiit. Baby. Fuck- fuuuuck me.” He moaned and I laughed a bit, rubbing my thumbs up to the base of his neck and back down. “Mmm shit- fuckin’ hurts soooo good”

I laughed at his bear like grumbles “Jesus baby. Thank god I don’t have roommates they’d think we’re sex addicts with the way you moan when I give you your massages” I straddled his hips as I work from the balls of his shoulders in towards his neck.

“Mm not my fault you have tiny magical hands” he teased and I laughed.

“Do not make fun of my little hands. I can’t help it, and it makes my life tedious” I joked, gently using the knuckles of my thumbs to release the tension in the sides of his neck.

“How is me calling your doll hands magical, making fun of them?” He said and I smiled, pinching his arm gently.

“May I remind you Bear who’s mercy you’re at right now?” I bite down on his neck playfully and he chuckles.

“My favorite girls” he counters and I smiled big, a blush creeping to my cheeks.

“You are a big flirt” I sat up, continuing to work at the base of his neck.

“I am being accused left and right t’night, of crimes f’which you have zero admissible evidence” he teased and I laughed, covering my mouth to not wake up the neighbors.

“Okay- we’re watching way too much criminal minds and SVU lately, admissible evidence, babe?” I shook my head, working on rubbing his biceps in sections since they were quite large.

“Not my fault I wake up f’work and it’s still on. That shit can’t be givin’ you good dreams babe. Y’need to turn it off” he said and I smiled a bit at his concern.

“Oh, and you when you go home, and turn on YouTube cooking videos until you pass out, that’s not giving you bad dreams about work?” I mused and he hums.

“No. Cause I usually don’t watch the English ones, my italian is spotty, which makes my Spanish shitty. And our French lessons have only gotten me so far. So- if my eyes are closed, nothin but noise” he countered and I roll my eyes with a smirk.

“And how do you know how much of everything to put in?” I ask curiously, massaging over his biceps.

“By the look” he replied as if that said anything at all.

“So, if I right now, gave you my water bottle- you could tell me how much water was in it?” I snort

“Depends, is there ice?” He asked and I raised my brows.

“ Carmy you can’t just- I mean you can guess. But you’ll have no form of accuracy.” I said and he hums.

“Think of it like Cooking is biology, and baking is science babe. 2 different sides of the same coin. I don’t need accuracy, I need flavor and balance. A good chef doesn’t solely stick to a recipe. But a good baker always sticks to a recipe. F’r cookin’ It’s about what the dish wants. F’baking it’s what it needs. So yeah I’m confident I could give you a fairly accurate measurement by look” he explained and I gently massage over his wrists, paying extra attention to them because of all the repetitive motion he did at work with all the chopping and stirring and whisking.

“Mmm I love it when you get all sexy technical chef on me” I kiss the top of his hand lightly and he smiled a bit.

“Well I’ll tell y’anythin y’wanna know angel” he said, covering his mouth with his hand as he yawned big. “Mmm. Y’always put me t’sleep” he mumbled.

I giggle a bit “that was the point. Geez like a colicky baby sometimes, so overtired y’can’t sleep” I said and he snorts.

“Mmm this is my favorite part” he rolled on his side as I took my place next to him and he lays his forearm over my tummy so I can lightly drag my nails across it for him.

“Spoiled, spoiled little bear” I teased, obliging him and gently dragging my nail across his skin with a featherlight touch causing goosebumps to appear.

“Mmhmm, the most spoiled” he said and kisses me sweetly I hummed softly, cupping his cheek and gently rubbing my thumb over his cheekbone.

“Just one more day” I said when he pulled away, alluding to his Sunday off.

“One more.” He said softly and snuggled into my chest as I continued gently caressing his arm, my other hand tangling in his muss of damp curls and scratching his scalp as I usually did to help him fall asleep.

This had been our routine for the last 2 weeks now, he’d come over after working out, we’d eat dinner, he’d have a shower, then we’d sit on the balcony and smoke together, then come in and get in bed, I’d give him a massage after cuddling for a while, and stroke his arm and give him scratches to help him fall asleep, since the first night I did it for him he was out in less than 10 minutes, (which was an all time record for him) - and he’d be little spoon until he fell asleep. Then when I eventually did as well- we’d wake up in the morning with me having stolen the title of little spoon once more.

He nuzzled his face in the crook of my neck, his warm breath hitting my collar bone. I focused on the tv and continued stroking his arm gently, a few minutes went by like that before he muttered a half asleep “night honey” bringing a small smile to my lips. “Night Bear” I said softly, brushing his curls off his forehead and gently kissing it, lingering for a moment before resting back on the pillow and continuing to stroke his arm gently.

I was woken by the sound of Carmy’s first alarm that he’d nearly knocked his phone off the nightstand trying to silence, before groaning tiredly and plopping his arm back around me, pulling me closer to him.

“Morning” I said softly, my eyes still closed.

“Mornin’ babe.” He said quietly, planting a soft kiss to my jaw. He’d been setting his alarm for 4:00 instead of 4:30 for the past week or so, so we’d get a little bit of snuggle time before he had to get in the shower.

“How’d you sleep?” I asked, lacing our fingers together and turning to face him, wrapping my leg between his and hooking them together.

“Alright. My back feels a lot better, thanks for the massage honey. How’d you sleep?” He rubbed over his face, yawning which caused me to catch it and yawn myself.

“Course love. I slept okay, had a really weird dream, wanna hear about it?” I ask and he smiled lazily, nuzzling his face into my neck.

“Mm. Always” he said softly.

“So-“ I giggle softly at the absolute bizarreness “so, Syd was there- oh I’ll have to send her a voice note about this. But Syd was there, and we were at my middle school? But it was here, in Chicago. And it wasn’t my middle school, it was a hospital? But my teachers were there. Well they weren’t my teachers they were strangers, but I like knew they were my teachers, ya’know?” He chuckled a bit into my skin.

“Okay, and what were you and Syd doin baby?” He questioned.

“Literally Carm- playing with a Ouija board? Like?” I laughed a bit, causing him to follow suit.

“Who were you trying to get ahold of?” He asked.

“I don’t know! But it was like scary lookin. I don’t even - oh! Yes! That’s how I know it was a hospital cause we were in this dingy like basement, and there was a gurney? Like. I dunno. Oh! And she was like” I laughed, shaking my head. “She was like Winnie- they’ll know the right ingredient. Like- like we’re summoning the dead for recipe advice? But she was so stressed like she was dyyying to find out what they had to say” I said and his chest vibrated with laughter.

“And yeah, that was it that’s the dream- dream Syd, and real Syd, both are OCD about recipes to the point of insanity” I said and he shook his head, planting a kiss on my temple.

“Thanks f’r sharing babe. Y’know, maybe the dead could help us out with recipes- dream Syd could be onto somethin’ ” he joked and I gently play with his sleep tousled hair.

“Mmm I think the only ghost that would give a shit about food they can’t eat- would be you and Syd baby. I can totally see that. Us hanging out in the afterlife, and you’re like ‘but honey, if I help them and tell them it needs more lemon it’ll be so good’ “ i mimicked him doing my best Carmy impression and he snorts a laugh.

“I do not sound like that, when did I turn into a fuckin- southside chain smokin’ uncle?” He teased and I laughed, poking his cheek playfully.

“Not too far off, you’re a north side chain smoking uncle in real life, so I guess the accent was a little off” I said and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah yeah. I’m down to half a pack a day now I wouldn’t call that chain smokin anymore” he mused, kissing my neck with open mouth kisses, trailing down to my collarbones.

“Mmm Bear?” I question and felt him smile into my skin before biting down gently in the fleshy spot between my neck and shoulder.

“Mmhmm?” He mumbled, his teeth still gently clamped around my flesh.

“It’s 4:09” I said, gently scratching his scalp with my nails.

“So that means we have..21 minutes, no?” He questions and I raise my brows with a smirk.

“And what are we doing with this twenty one minutes, Bear?” I muse and he lifted the covers, crawling underneath, and getting between my thighs.

“Don’t they say breakfast is the most important meal of the day?” he asked, kissing over my pantyline in the way that made my breath hitch.

“Real breakfast, baby. Which you refuse most the time” I told him, gently pushing his curls back, watching as he carefully slips my panties to the side.

He licks a stripe up my heat with the pad of his tongue, stopping at my clit and applying more pressure, open jawed, rubbing his tongue messily back and forth. I whined in pleasure, my head dropping back to the pillow.

He hooked my knees over his shoulders, pulling me closer by my hips and gently sucks on the sensitive bud that was now getting firmer and more prominent, flicking and smoothing his tongue over it in small circles, earning hot moans of satisfaction from deep in my chest.

“Oh-“ I breathe out, my voice coming out as more of a squeak then anything and my hips buck involuntarily as a jolt of pleasure cracks through me at his actions.

“Mmm so fuckin sweet” he grumbled into the slick flesh, the vibrations causing my core to clench around nothing.

“Holy fuck Carmy” I gasp as I felt his tongue lapping over my enterence, thrusting his tongue inside in one swift motion, humming in satisfaction as he felt me squeeze tightly around his tongue and I tugged his hair between my fingers.

“Ah- shitholy-fuckingchristCarm” I moaned out as he nudged the bridge of his strong nose against my clit with a pressure that was gonna drive me right over the edge- and fast.

“Mmhmm- mmhmm” I nod quickly, biting my lip hard as I feel that all too familiar tightening in my stomach, the pool building quickly and the dam walls getting ready to snap, all of my muscles tightening and my thighs quivering.

“Breathe” he reminded me gently, reaching up and grabbing one of the hands that had taken grip on his hair, lacing our fingers together and squeezing my hand gently.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, “sorry” I mumble sheepishly and he continued, humming happily into my slick when I gasp in a enormous breath as he flicks his tongue wildly over my clit, pressing my hips into the bed to make me remain still with his other forearm.

“Oh- oh- fuuuck! Ah- ahh! cumming! Yes- yes!!!” I cry out, squeezing his hand tightly, my head thrown back in bliss and spine arched off the bed.

“mm- shit- fuck- too sensitive” I whine, as he continued the rough assault on my clit, digging my nails into the back of his hand.

“I think I can get another one babe - cmon be good f’me, please?” he said lowly, his voice coated in thick, honey-like lust.

“Ah- fuck-fuck- okay- mmmmillbegood” I slur, my thighs pressing against his temples and ankles locked behind his head.

He removed his forearm from my hips. “Y’gonna be a good girl, mmm? Y’gonna stay still f’me? Er do I need t’keep holdin’ you?” He asks and I shook my head.

“Ill be still, promise” I said quickly, squeezing his hand gently.

“That’s my girl” he brought his mouth back to my clit, slipping two fingers in my entrance and curling them expertly into that amazing spongy spot he seemed to have memorized by now, that I could somehow never manage to get to so well on my own.

“Holyfuck” I groaned, tugging his hair taut and he moans into me, the vibrations on my over sensitive clit dragging me to the edge and leaving me dangling there.

“Ah- fuck mmm-d’that- keep doin’ that Bear pleeeease” I begged as I tug at his hair harder, earning a deeper moan out of him. My hips snap back into the mattress, twitching and shaking as I mewl and whine through my second orgasm, my back arched and hand leaving his hair to grip the sheets so I wouldn’t hurt him as I held them in a white knuckle grasp.

His alarm goes off for 4:30 a few moments after my thighs stop quivering in pleasure and hips finally stilled. He messily wiped his wet chin, mouth, and the tip of his nose on my thigh, slick with my arousal, before placing a gentle kiss on my mound, and popping his head out of the sheets, casually hitting the stop button on the alarm.

“Thanks f’breakfast honey” he joked, getting out of bed and stretching his back, before giving me a peck on the lips and heading off to the bathroom, leaving me fucked absolutely dumb.

“Anytime” I said tiredly, feeling exhausted once again after only a few hours sleep and being feasted on so intensely, and so early in the morning.

He left the bathroom door cracked so Persephone wouldn’t scratch the whole time trying to get in and investigate what he was doing, and I heard him start the shower before I rolled back over and fell asleep.

I was awoken by sweet gentle kisses about 45 minutes later, feeling the icy metal of his chain brush over my chin as he pressed lingering kisses on my forehead. “Hey sleepy” he said softly, rubbing my side.

The smell of his cologne and minty toothpaste hits my nose and my eyes flutter open. He was sat next to me, backpack and hoodie already on.

“Already?” I whine, laying over his lap and nuzzling my face in his tummy, breathing in his scent and wrapping my arms around him.

“Mmhmm. But 3:30 yeah? I’ll come pick y’up from the library we can have lunch in the car?” He gently runs his fingers through my hair in the way that made me sleepy, and my eyes flutter shut once again subconsciously.

“Can’t you call out sick?” I mumble into his sweatshirt and he chuckled. This was the same conversation we had nearly every morning.

“And do what princess? Mm? Follow you to the library and sit around while you put away books?” He joked and I huff.

“Yes. Exactly that.” I said and look up at him, puckering my lips, knowing I wouldn’t win this battle possibly ever unless he was actually sick.

“Mmhmm I’m sure y’boss would love to just have a chef loitering around all day waiting for her star employee” he teased, leaning down and giving me a sweet, tender goodbye kiss.

“Be safe.” I said softly when he pulled away, cupping his cheek and rubbing over his cheekbone with my thumb. He leaned into my touch, sighing softly and eyes fluttering shut.

“Always. We have a big catering order today, so if I don’t text back that’s why. What do you want f’r lunch in case I forget to ask?” He took my hand, gently kissing my palm.

“Mmm- dunno. Surprise me, nothin’ spicy but you knew that” I said, covering my mouth as I yawn.

“Surprise it’ll be then baby” he leaned in, kissing me once more before pulling away and rubbing my stomach signaling it was that dreaded time.

I sigh, sitting up off his lap and giving him a big hug, kissing his cheek with a smooch “have a good day baby” I said softly into his damp hair, kissing his head once more before letting him go.

“Thank you angel, lock the door behind me please” he said and I nod, following him to the door and see Persephone was sat on top of his shoes in the hallway.

“See I think Persephone says you should stay home too” I smile and he shook his head with a grin.

“Not t’day snowball” he picks her up, kissing her head and he licks the tip of his nose, causing him to scrunch it adorably.

“Ugh fish breath” he mutters and I giggle.

“She looooooves her Carmy, isn’t that right little baby?” I scratch her chin and he plops her in my arms so he can slip on his sneakers.

“Mmhmm and I love her too but duty calls, stinky” he tells her in a sweet voice and kisses her head once more before pecking my lips once he had his shoes on and opening the door.

“And put some panties on Winnie the Pooh” he said in my ear, spanking my bum lightly before heading down the hall.

I laughed “Sorry- I’ll make sure to put your leftovers away sooner next time” I call after him teasingly, shutting the door behind me and clicking it locked.

I was in the Young Adult section at the library, putting returned books back on the shelf, when I felt my phone start buzzing in my bra. I fished it out, abandoning my cart of books I’d yet to put away, quickly heading to the employee back room once I realized it was Carmy.

I clicked green answer button. “Hey Bear! How’s the-“ he cuts me off suddenly.

“Hey- um- hey. I need like- a huge favor baby”

He said nervously. I put a concerned hand on my hip, nervously pacing the break room. “What is it love? Are you ok? Are you hurt?” I asked, already on edge due to the anxiety lacing his tone.

“No- no I’m ok- it’s uh. Syd. She’s….fuck I’m sorry - her stomach? Something about her stomach. She’s in the office right now, she can like- barely move but she doesn’t want to go to the hospital and uhh.” I could see him in my mind nervously shaking his hand and pacing.

“Okay- okay I’m coming. Is it like a girl tummy ache- or something different?” I asked, grabbing my purse and light jacket I’d worn, quickly putting it on as I held my phone pressed to my cheek and shoulder.

“No - no way honey. This is like- she can barely speak - I’ve never…I’m scared baby.” He said, his voice cracking a bit.

“Shhh. It’s ok, it’s ok, Bear- Syd has had stomach ulcer problems in the past, I need you to get her to try and eat something, ok? Shes gonna say no, but she has to eat- the acid in her stomach is irritating her. I’m coming. I’m grabbing an Uber right now, breathe baby. It’s all gonna be fine” I said and he took a deep trembling breath.

“Ye’…yeah. Ok. Okay, I’ll see you baby, be safe” he said and I sigh softly.

“Always” I said softly and hung up. I shoved my phone in my coat pocket, untucking my hair and heading to my bosses office.

I lightly knocked, waiting for her ‘come in’ before nudging the door open.

“Hey- Family emergency, I have to head out. Could you let Jessie know I left some returns in the YA section?” I ask and she nods.

“Hope everything’s ok, call me if you can’t make it in Monday.” She said and I nodded.

“Thank you” I told her before shutting her office door behind me.

The Uber ride to The Bear was torturous, I’d texted Syd thrice - to no avail. She was constantly pushing herself so hard- that she was making herself literally burn from the inside out. I’d told her time and time again, from everything I’d learned in my 3 years at college- stress can literally kill you, and that she should really take some time off before she seriously injured herself- but unfortunately she never listened.

I got out of the car when we’d barely come to a full stop, rushing to the front door, stepping inside and seeing Sugar at the host stand. “Oh- thank god- Carmy is freaked out Winnie- he literally is convinced she’s dying- can you go cool him off? Please?” She begs and I nodded quickly, heading behind the counter and pushing the back door open to the loud kitchen.

Everytime I was here during the day, I made it a point not to come in this way because the environment made my skin crawl. The noise, the lights, the crashing of pans and pots, the yelling, the sudden bursts of flames while various chefs flambéd dishes that would singe your hair if you weren’t paying attention.

I swallowed thickly “uh- oops! Sorry” I squeak, quickly getting out of a foodrunners way as he briskly moved past me, shoving the door open with his hip and heading to the front of the restaurant with a large tray of food he held with one hand over his shoulder.

“Uh- behind you? I’m behind you!” I tried to call over the noise as I pass various people. Usually if I came through the front, Carmy greeted me and people parted for us like Moses and the Red Sea- but without his presence, I was just another body in here and no one seemed to even realize I was there.

I finally made it back to the hall where the offices were, taking a deep breath to center myself before pushing open the door.

Carmen was knelt in front of the big comfy couch in Sugars office, offering Syd some water.

“Winnie- if you don’t get your boyfriend the fuck away from me- I’m gonna peel off his skin and enjoy it” Syd said through gritted teeth.

“Syd- Syd- eat. Y’have t’eat.” He pleads and I shut the door to silence out all the noise.

“Carmy” I said softly and he looks up at me, concern and worry written all over his face. “Take a walk, yeah? Go have a cigarette ok?” I said gently and squat next to him, rubbing his shoulder that was hard as a rock with all the tension he was currently holding.

“No- no. She’s sick Winnie. She’s just bein’ a jagoff because she hates bein’ cared for. Cmon syd” he looks at her and she glared back at me with the fire of 1000 suns, a look that if I was quite honest- scared me slightly.

“Bear” I gently play with his curls, earning his attention once more. “What Syd needs right now, is the energy in the room to be calm, and you’re literally vibrating with anxiety. Please, f’me? Go relax. Ok?” I said and kiss his temple.

He huffs and got up, leaving the room with a hard closing of the door, but not quite a slam. I look at Syd, and before I could start, we both hear Carmy going off

“I’m steppin’ out f’r 5 FUCKIN MINUTES- If that GOD DAMN DIRTY BOWL I ALREADYTOLD SOMEONE TO WASH IS STILL SITTING AT THE EXPO WHEN I GET BACK HEADS WILL ROLL FUCKERS. MOVE. IM NOT FUCKIN’ AROUND T’DAYISN’T THE FUCKIN’ DAY “ he barks before we hear his heavy footsteps stomping off down the hall and a harsh slam of the back door.

Syd rolls her eyes and I gently sit next to her. “See what I have to deal with? And you wonder why I’m - fffuuuuck oh my gooooddd” she groans, keeling over and laying on my lap as she clutches her stomach. “Fucking kill me. Oh my god- kill me please” she moaned in pain.

I gently rub her arm, digging through my purse and taking out one of my vials of RSO I kept in there for emergencies. “Here, Y’gonna have to go home- but..it’s gonna make it stop” I told her.

“Give it. Give it. Whatever it fucking is. I’d literally take heroin right now holy shit Winnie it feels like I’m being stabbed” she said, hands shaking from how much pain she was in.

“Open.” I told her, tilting her face towards me. “Tongue up” I said when she opened her mouth and I squirt a decent glob of oil under her tongue.

She closed her mouth, nose scrunching at the taste “what the fuck is that weed?!” She mumbles and I nod.

“Mmhmm, well kinda- don’t swallow. Let it sit until the pain stops enough that you forget about it and wonder why your mouth is so full of spit” I teased, gently dabbing her sweaty forehead with a napkin from my purse.

“Thank you” she mumbled, closing her eyes and sighing softly as she waited for it to kick in.

“He was really worried, Syd.” I said after a few minutes of silence, when I knew the pain had started to dull since her hands had stopped shaking.

She shook her head in annoyance, unable to speak yet because of the oil and scrunching her nose as if to say ‘he shouldn’t be.’

“Y’re his only friend. Other then me, and Richie. But Richie raised him. Of course he’s gonna worry for you. Especially when you’re like- near the point of vomiting blood because of how bad this is getting. You have to do the surgery, Syd.” I said and with that she swallowed, sitting up and looking at me.

“No- no. Winnie. No! I’m- I can’t. I can’t and I won’t. It’s not even that bad and I’m not vomiting blood miss theatrics- I’m not gonna take 3 weeks off work to do a stupid surgery that isn’t even guaranteed to find anything wrong! What if they go in there and find nothing and I’m back at square one- and out of work for THREE WEEKS?! I can’t leave Tina yet, she- she’s. No. I can’t let her drown. Carmy too- a-and Richie. We can’t-“ I inturrupt her

“Sydney.” I said in a dead serious tone. “Y’need to get it. This is literally like - this should not even be a discussion at this point! The reason the doctor wants you to have it is because before they can just give you all these medicines to fix your gut bacteria that’s all shot from fucking stress- it’ll hurt you more on the very slim chance you don’t have a stress ulcer, but it is something with your stomach, Syd. It’s an exploratory surgery they don’t do those for no reason.” I said as Carmen came in and his eyes nearly fell out of his head.

“Surgery?!” He exclaims and slams the door shut behind him. “What? Syd- what’s going on. This isn’t a stomachache you didn’t just eat somethin’ that’s not agreeing with you. What is it, Sydney” she said and I crossed my arms, sitting back and letting her do the talking.

A slow smile grows on her face, and she covers her mouth with her hands as she begins to giggle. Fair to say the oil has now done its trick.

“Have I ever told you, when you get mad, there’s this vein in your forehead- and- it’s- it’s so funny” she said, causing me to start laughing with her.

Carm’s eyes flickered to mine. “What the hell did you give her?” He asks and I shrug with a smirk.

“Somethin’ t’make her floaty, and” I shield my mouth from Syd so only Carm could see “agreeable” I mouthed and he smiled a bit, shaking his head.

“Syd.” He looks at her.

“Caaarrrmeeennnn” she replied in a sing-songy voice “I need to get back to the spice mixture for my cod now- but this was a great chat guys. Winnie- you’re the best” she said and got up, heading towards the door.

“Noooo ya’ don’t” Carmen stops her, spinning her around by the shoulders and leading her back to the couch. She groaned dramatically, sitting down next to me once more. “What is this about a surgery, Syd?” He asked, pulling up the rolling chair and sitting in front of us.

“A stuuuuupiiiidd surgery Carmen. Stupid. Doctors wanna slice me open and prod around hoping they find something. And then when they don’t i'll be stuck at home with my dad glued to my bedside, for no fucking reason, and I’ll loose three weeks minimum of work. And that’s if they find nothing. If they do find something, I’ll have to schedule another surgery and I’ll be out for SIX weeks.” She said and Carm nods, rubbing over his face for a moment as he thinks.

“And how long have they been buggin’ you t’get this surgery, Syd?” He asked finally, brushing his hair back and looking at her seriously.

“Mmm….” She crossed her arms, averting his gaze “7 months” she mumbles.

“What?!” Carmen leans forward in disbelief. “Say that- say that again? I know y’didnt just say you’ve been dealin’ w’this f’r a fuckin year” he said and she shrugged.

“They reccomended it a year ago, they’ve just been hounding me for the past 7 months. It’s really not that bad, Carm.” She said and he shook his head, getting up and going over to the filing cabinet silently.

“What are you doing?” Sydney sits up as he opens a drawer, thumbing through different file folders before popping out what looked to be a blank information sheet of some kind and plops back down in the chair, rolling over to the desk and beginning to fill it out with a pen.

“Carmen - what are you” she stood up, looking at the form he was filling out “no” she said, ripping it from under his pen and crumpling it up, throwing it in the wastebasket next to the desk. “Fuck you. No” she seethed.

“What’s going on?” I sit up.

“Syd- there’s like 50 million copies, I really don’t want to do it like this, but I know you aren’t gonna do it unless I make you do it.” He said and got up, walking back over to the same filing cabinet.

She followed him, holding the drawer containing the forms closed with her hand. “No! Carmen are you fucking kidding me?! You aren’t my fucking parent. Stop! We are equals here! You can’t do this” she said and he shook his head, resting his hand atop the cabinet.

“Sydney. This isn’t a discussion, are you really gonna make me say it, you’re really gonna push me?” He asked lowly.

She crosses her arms, “say it.” She countered chest quickly moving with rapid angry breaths.

“As your partner. I’m ordering you, mm? It’s an order, Sydney. Y’gonna go to the back, Y’gonna empty out your locker- because y’not gonna be around here for a while, and you are going to come back to this office, Y’gonna take the short term disability form I give you, Y’gonna call them, file. it. I will be checking, and then, Y’gonna schedule whatever fuckin procedure you need, and when your doctor clears you to come back in the kitchen, then, and only then will you return to work. I’m being more then fair, considering you’re making me force you t’do this, so I’ll be paying you your full wages while you’re out. Even though, im gonna have to train 3 dumb fucks to even-“ he shook his head, sighing deeply. “T’even keep us runnin’ half as well. So there. There. You wanted me to fuckin’ play mean mentor partner there ya go.” He said before opening up the drawer, plucking out another blank form and sitting back at the desk.

She scoffs, looking to me. “You’re just gonna let him do this?” She narrowed her eyes at me, brows furrowed with anger.

“Syd- this..this isn’t my restaurant…you only answer to-“ Carmy cuts me off.

“Do not. No. Sydney, out. Step the fuck out, now. Y’not doin’ this t’her. She fuckin-“ he shakes his head, rubbing his eyes before pointing to the door.

“Fuckin- go. Go before I say shit I’ll regret. Leave. Now.” He orders her and she left the office with a loud slam of the door.

I sighed, dropping my head back on the couch and closing my eyes, wanting to melt into a puddle on the floor.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby” he sighed, the soft sounds of pen on paper filling the silence.

“Not your fault” I mumbled, crossing my arms.

“I-it is. Babe I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be bringin’ you into this shit. It’s not fair, she’s your friend” he said.

“Exactly- she’s my friend. I love her, Carm. She’s a hard headed fuck at times, but it’s because she loves being here. She just- has this idea that I have some semblance of control over what you do” I took off my shoes before sitting crisscrossed on the couch.

He snorts a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Well. I mean, not full control- but I listen to you” he gives me a small smirk and I roll my eyes.

“In our relationship of course. But I can’t honestly give you advice about that. Shes gonna cool off and apologize, to you too babe. Shes gonna realize we just want her better” I sighed softly.

He nodded, continuing to fill out the form. “I get if you don’t wanna sit around here, want me t’drive you home?” He asked.

I shook my head “why not? Well if I can stay back here. I don’t like being in the kitchen like at all” I said and he chuckled.

“Why? Too busy?” He asked

“Too busy, too loud, too bright, to many stabbey things, too many people, too many smells, too much yelling.” I said, pulling my kindle out of my purse. “But back here I have a comfy couch, my books, and my bear. So, I’m ok here” i smile a bit and he rolled over, giving me a peck on the lips.

“Thank you f’comin, honey. Really” he tucked my hair behind my ear.

“Baby, any time. If you’re ever scared, or need to talk, or just- I dunno…need a hug? I’m here. That’s what I’m for.” I said and he kissed my nose sweetly.

“Then I’m the luckiest guy alive” he said softly before kissing my lips in the way that gave me a feeling of a swarm of monarchs being trapped in my chest.

“Oh you are the mushiest ever” I said and kissed the cute little moles on his cheek.

The door slammed open and Syd comes in “give it.” She snipped, outstretching her hand.

Carm rolls back over to the desk, handing her the form and she plucks it from his hands. He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and they look at eachother in silence, almost like 2 lions deciding if it was worth it to continue a fight over dominance.

“Please.” She said quietly after a few moments, her big brown eyes teary.

“Syd” he said softly, signing to her ‘I’m sorry’ over his chest and i bit my lip, looking out the window, trying to appear uninterested so that they could have some semblance of privacy.

“Then I want you to get your back checked out. Fair is fair, Carmen.” She said shakily.

My eyes flicker back over to him and he sits back in his chair, rubbing over his chin for a moment as he thought. “Fine. Fine. I’ll go to the doctor. Back pain is different Syd you know this. But fuckin’ whatever. I’ll go if it’ll make you get Y’r surgery” he said and she nodded once.

“Fair is fair” she outstretched her hand for him to shake, and he rolled his eyes.

“Really, we have to seal this with a handshake?” He asked.

“Fair, is fair.” She replied and he shook her hand firmly.

“And I’m sorry” she said to me. I nodded

“It’s okay, I know this is…it’s hard, kid. I get it. But did you have to give me the near impossible task of getting him to the doctor?” I tease with a smile.

The faintest upturn of a smile replaced her frown and she shrugs. “It’s his deal to go through on. I’ll be checking.” She repeated his words from earlier and he gave her a smug smile.

“And how will you do that? You don’t know what doctor I see, or if I’ll just go to an urgent care and have some random ass doctor write me a pain pill prescription and that’s it.” He countered.

“Oh- because I have eyes on you at every angle.” She told him. “I’m always watching.” She teased, closing the office door behind her when she left.

“What- is she gettin’ daily reports from you ‘er somethin?” He asks and I laughed, shrugging a bit.

“Mmm. Not reports. I don’t like tell her everything, but- mood reports” I giggle and Richie opens the door.

“What the fuck are you doing?! How are we gonna run this shit without Syd?!” He shuts the door behind him and looks over to me. “Sorry sweetheart, nice t’see you” he gives me an apologetic smile before turning back to Carm. “You let her go?!” He asks and Carmen looks at him as if he had 3 heads.

“Let her go?! No, jagoff. I told her to take short term, I’m paying her full wages as long as she needs, and she’s gonna be back when she’s fuckin’ better.” Carmy explained.

“Short term? Short term termination? Short term what?!” Richie asked frustratedly.

“You IDIOT. SHORT TERM DISABILITY!” He shouts at him and I flinch.

“Carmen” I said sharply, he quickly looks over to me.

“That scares me. Please. You don’t need to yell, Bear- also- you aren’t an idiot, Richie. He’s just…in a mood.” I said softly and Carm’s cheeks flush red.

“ok” he muttered, turning back to Richie. “It’s-“ he takes a deep breath. “It’s fine. I have it under control. What I need you t’do, is ask Nat for the login shit for the recruiting website she used to find the runners and shit. Can you handle that f’me while I figure out how this shits gonna work while Syds out?” He asked him calmly, but I could still…feel him. His energy. He’s way too wound up.

I wish I could just tell him to come home, talk it out with him, I knew all of this rage was just him burying his fear. He was so fucking scared.

“I can. I can do that” Richie nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “So- so what’re we doin’ what’s the fuckin plan?” He asked and I give him a look.

I knew he had to get out of here or Carm was going to rip in to him just because he could. “Richie, Syd just left- like 5 minutes before you came in here? Carmy is still working that out…can you- can you do me a favor?” I asked and his brows raised in surprise.

“Yea? Yeah. Wha’dyou need?” He asked.

“Can you go get that stuff from Nat and then make me a grilled cheese? Eva said you make really good grilled cheese. So Carmy can have some quiet time to figure this out, and you guys can tell everyone what’s going on together.” I look at Carm.

“Because you don’t have to do everything alone, you’re a team. Breaking difficult news is hard, but when you have the people you love with you, it can make it easier to bare the weight.” I said, looking directly at Carmen.

Carm nodded, swallowing thickly and biting at the inside of his lip nervously. “Sure- yeah. She uh…she said that?” Richie asked and I smiled, looking over to him once again.

“She specifically said - ‘My daddy makes the best grilled cheese in the whole wide world’ “ I told him and he smiled a bit, a light blush creeping to his cheeks.

“Alright well the kid has quite the flare f’dramatics, but I can make a pretty good grilled cheese. Comin’ right up” he said and headed back out to the kitchen, shutting the door behind him.

Carm got up, locking the door, before coming over to the couch and laying down with his head in my lap. I knew he didn’t have the confidence to ask, so I gently start scratching his head in the way that he liked and his eyes fluttered shut. He let out a deep sigh, like a pressure valve releasing so it wouldn’t explode.

“So let’s make a plan, baby. I don’t think you need three. I think you know that but you’re planning for someone to drop” I said softly, gently stroking my nails through his hair.

“Cause someone will drop babe it’s how it fuckin goes. If I hire 2 we’re gonna be left short when one quits because they aren’t as good as the other one.” He said.

“Well why do you say that, baby?” I asked.

“Because no one’s gonna fight to be the best when they inevitably find out they’re a temp” he said and I furrow my brows.

“Carmen. You weren’t planning on hiring someone without telling them right?” I asked and he got quiet. “Carmen. Are you kidding me?! Absolutely not! Oh my god that is so- so mean baby!” I said and his cheeks heat.

“Well who the fuck is gonna wanna work here when we already have a full fuckin staff?!” He asked annoyed.

“Because you are the best fucking restaurant in Chicago, are you kidding me baby?! Just like you sent Richie to Ever to gain experience? There are fucking talented chefs Carmy, ones like Richie who don’t have the time to save and go to super nice culinary school like you did and garner that expirience. There would be a line out the door if you were honest and said ‘hey who wants a 2 month opportunity at a luxury fine dining restaurant that’s been nominated for best new restaurant by the JBF in its first year open’ “ I told him.

He was quiet for a moment, thinking it over. “I guess” he mutters.

“Babe cmon we can write the posting together. We don’t even have to do all this today. Don’t rush, y’know what would be a good idea?” I ask. He hums in response. “I think, that you should go back out there, work as usual, keep Syd’s stations covered best you can, and we can have a nice Sunday together, relax, recharge, and then we’ll have Palm Sunday dinner with the family, and then on Monday, you can come in fresh and rested with a great plan on what you’ll tell everyone with Richie.” I explain.

He contemplated for a moment, looking over at the desk in thought before looks up at me, “thank you.” He said softly. I gently caress his cheek with my knuckle.

“Nothin’ to thank me for, Bear.” I said and he took my hand, placing a gentle kiss to my knuckles.

“There’s too much to thank you for. We’d be here forever” he mumbled against my fingers with a small smile.

“You’re getting mushier by the day” I ruffle his hair and the doorknob jiggles.

“D’you still want this?” Richie calls from outside.

“Yeah! Sorry” I said getting up when Carmen got off my lap. I opened the door and Richie offers me a plate with 2 grilled cheeses.

“He hasn’t eaten” he said so only we could hear and I nod.

“Thank you, best cousin ever” I took the plate.

“Course, anytime. Oh Carm” he looks to him “user is MBerzatto87 password is fuckin password234.” He said and Carm chuckled a bit.

“I coulda guessed that shit. But I guess I was hopeful he gave more a shit about cybersecurity” he shook his head.

“RICHIE. DID YOU TOUCH MY ORANGE ZEST?!” Tina shouts from the kitchen and Richie heads back

“What the fuck would I need orange zest for?” He yells back as I shut the door, locking it once again.

“How do things always go missing?” I giggle a bit, sitting next to him and placing the plate on his lap, taking one of the sandwiches and taking a bite.

“Cause people at the same stations doin’ the same thing will think they already did their orange zest, and just take it.” He said, staring at the plate on his lap. “Also I’m not hungry” he put the plate on the desk.

I shrugged, putting my sandwich back on the plate. “Okay” I said, brushing off my hands before grabbing my kindle again and continuing to read.

“What- what’re you doin’ babe. Eat” he said, putting the plate on my lap.

“I’m not hungry” I said, not looking up from the page.

“Yes you are, you - you don’t ask for food unless you’re hungry, Winnie.” He said.

“Mm- I like it when we eat together. I don’t wanna eat by myself so, my appetite is gone.” I lie with a shrug.

“Y’really gonna be difficult right now?” He asked and in response, I playfully stuck out my tongue before going back to reading.

“Oh you are a child” he huffs, picking up the untouched sandwich and taking a bite.

“Oo! I’m hungry again!” I teased, grabbing mine as well and taking another bite.

He snorts a laugh, rolling his eyes. “Y’re lucky y’cute” he said before taking another bite.

I smiled, “I love winning you over. It’s my favorite game” I said teasingly.

“Yeah yeah, I’m just saving myself, you turn into a tiny demon when you’re hungry. Especially on your cycle” he said and I laughed.

“You’ve learned your lesson though so you don’t have to meet that demon again as long as you keep us fed.” I peel off the crust, setting it on the plate.

“You don’t like the crust?” He asked.

“No…well- I don’t know..really. I didn’t as a kid, but Chris did, so I always gave it to him. Never stopped” I said, staring at the crust on the plate as I got lost in memories of sitting in the school cafeteria with Chris over lunch, carefully peeling off the crust after taking my first bite and putting it on the top of the empty ziplock he’d taken his sandwich from.

“That’s sweet. I’m sure he’s happy you still leave it for him” he said. My heart melts at the sentiment and I gently kissed his cheek before resuming eating my sandwich.

“I don’t like pickles, so when we were kids- Mikey always picked em off for me.” He says quietly and I looked up at him. It wasn’t often that he brought up stories about Michael, so each one I safely tucked away in my mind where I’d never forget.

“I love pickles, I could eat a whole jar if you let me. I’ll always take unwanted pickles” I smiled a bit.

“Ahhh ok. So you’re a sour person not a spicy person. It’s usually one or the other” he said before finishing off his sandwich.

“Yes- exactly. You like spicy stuff? We haven’t eaten a single spicy thing” I said and he nods.

“Love spicy shit. But you don’t, so doesn’t really matter” he shrugged.

“Wha- Carmy. No! No you can eat spicy things, I feel bad. I don’t want it to always be what I like. Just like- make mine less spicy” I said.

“It’s fine babe, I try spicy stuff here all the time. Plus the food I like with a ton of spice in it is usually Indian and Filipino and shit where the whole profile is about the heat and the spice so-“ I inturrupt him.

“You like Filipino food?!” I asked and he nods

“Yeah- why, do you?” He asks and I nod happily

“My neighbor! Ms.Mendoza! She’s from the Philippines! Before you started bringing me dinner I’d usually stop by her place because she always made too much and asked me if I wanted it, you have to talk to her babe she’s like- amazing! I’m sure you guys will have so much in common she loves cooking- and she has like all these connections back home in the Philippines and they send her spice mixes and stuff for her to try. You have to try this stew- she calls it um..” I think for a moment “inew? Inihaw? Yeah- I think that’s it. Inihaw na leimpo! “ I said excitedly.

“Oh- the lady- the lady I met?” He asked and I nod.

“Yeah- I…I never asked- was she there when you got there?” I asked

“She- well” he chuckled. “Almost knocked me out with her cane cause I guess she thought I was trying to break in, cause I heard you screamin’ and I was trying to pick the lock, I told her I was a friend and she didn’t really believe me, but then she saw the flowers and she nearly dropped the keys getting the door open.” He said and my cheeks go pink.

“I’m…I’m sorry- she’s like….such a grandma. She’s been hounding me about a boyfriend since I moved in don’t mind her pushyness about it. She’s been trying to hook me up with her friends grandsons left and right” I finished off my sandwich.

“Well, she can stop looking now right?” He asks.

I brushed my hands off before nervously picking at my nail polish at the question. “What does that mean?” I asked and the room went eerily silent for what felt like minutes.

“Cause’…” he trails off. “Are you…are you still seeing other people?” He asks and I look over at him.

“No. No, Carmy. No just you..are you?” I asked and he shook his head. “So…what does that mean?” I asked biting the inside of my lip nervously.

“I…I dunno…” he looked at the clock. “I uh- I have to get out there, you still wanna hang out here?” He asked.

I swallowed thickly, realizing that I didn’t want to be here all day if he was just going to run away.

“So…what Syd said. You’re- you’re my boyfriend now?” I asked and he went pale as a sheet.

I stare at him, waiting for a response, and he opens his mouth like he was going to say something but he closes it again, nervously rubbing his lips together.

“Well- are you?” I ask.

“So- so Y’re like…my girlfriend now?” He asked.

“That’s my question, am I your girlfriend?” I asked and he shrugged.

“I guess? I dunno…I’ve never done this I just…kinda assumed?” He said rubbing his neck nervously.

“Well- I don’t remember you ever asking me…” I nudge his knee with mine gently.

“You didn’t ask me to be your boyfriend either!!” He said.

“Because I knew you’d freak out! And like- Y’re a masculine guy Carm I didn’t wanna make you feel insecure!” I exclaim.

“Okay fine! Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks, a small smile on his lips.

“Hmmmmm….” I put my finger to my lips, pretending to contemplate. “Of course I will dummy” I pull him into a deep wanting kiss and he hums happily, gently rubbing over my hip with his palm.

“Y’know y’mine baby I tell you like every day” he said, his breath fanning my lips.

I look up at him, biting my lip to contain a grin. “I dunno…I thought you said it just t’like..please me when we fool around, I didn’t know you meant it.” I said softly.

“I’d never say something I don’t mean baby, everything I tell you I really mean” he leans in, kissing me again. But this kiss was sweeter, somehow more intimate then the last. It felt…truthful.

I gently cup his cheek, humming softly and he pulls away when the doorknob to the office starts to jiggle and someone pounds on it.

“Chef?! We need more hands out here if we’re gonna be gettin’ this order out on time are you with us?” Tina calls through the door.

“Duty calls” he sighs softly. “You know where to find me baby” he kissed my forehead sweetly before heading back out to the kitchen.

➵ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ♡♡♡

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