#he sure as hell is a Lord (and savior)

[hanakihan]

… no wonder JP twitter went apeshit IM CURRENTLY LOSING IT HOLY FUCK??? HE’S SO??? CRYING??? YELLING??? PRAYING TO HIM LIKE HE’S THE GOD OF MY NEW RELIGION RN??? HE’S SO 5★ WORTHY HERE GOD???

[whore-ibly-hot]

THROUGH OUR LORD AND SAVIOR @yanderereblogs THE FACULTY HAVE BEEN FOYND AND RETURNED TO US! PRAISE BE TO REBLOGGERS, SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL ARCHIVISTS!

Yandere Boarding School Part 2, (Faculty)

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Multiple yanderes, non-con touching, dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, bullying, masturbation, aphrodisiacs, general perversion, dry-humping, voyeurism, controlling behaviors, typical yandere stuff, breeding, smoking, horny posting.

(AN: Part Two has been reuploaded after a takedown, godspeed @yanderereblogs for saving it! Mmmmmm, old men. Everyone pictured as a student is OF LEGAL AGE TUMBLR MODS HOP OFF MY DICK.

Background: Thinking about a Headmasters Son or Daughter!Reader at a private boarding school. For a Fem!Reader, perhaps you're just visiting daddy for the season while he's running the school, or maybe you've been bad, and need more supervision. For a Masc!Reader, it could be the same case, however, with Ridgemoore Academy being an all male school, this makes it easier to imagine a world where reader is allowed in the school. Now, let's focus on the faculty...

◇ Mr. Joel Murphy, who teaches the majority of the 'life skills' classes at the school. The school being all-boys is very traditional, and teaches things like game hunting and orienteering, which is why they hired a manly-man like Joel. If only they knew what a bitter grump he is. An ex-sheriff of the nearby town, he decided to leave the force after realizing there was no real crime in the small, privileged town, and decided to take up an easy job at the school. Unfortunately, he realized his love for camping and hunting is warped into what he considers 'frilly shit for rich little boys'. He's gruff, barking out orders and easily been exasperated at the sheer incompetence of the boys.

"Shoot one quail, and these boys act like they killed a bear..."

He thought about retiring from yet another job, as living on the ritzy campus just doesn't feel like home to him, and lord knows he's not fond of his job. However, things change when you arrive. Whether you're a delinquent or a little more sweet and obedient, he likes you. If you're a delinquent, he likes seeing a little hell-raiser kick up some shit at the fancy school. If you're sweet or shy, he gets protective. Nice youngins' like you shouldn't be thrown in amongst these spoiled weasels.

He's sure to help you if you need it, a gentle hand on your back as his burly chest presses against your shoulder blades, adjusting your position against the butt of a rifle. Standing by while you're on hands and knees trying to light a fire, making sure none of the boys are trying to get a look at your assessts. Not that he isn't going to, but he justifies it to himself as just making sure your school shorts/skirt is regulation. He's protecting your modesty. After class hours, come to him with any issues, or shit, even his room. He'll put on some coffee and ask you to help him create a curriculum that 'reaches the kids', as your father instructed him to. It's cozy, the fancy school adnorments thrown away for medals and plaques, national parks posters and a few old family photos. He'll keep you tucked in on his warm couch while he strays from curriculum talk to stories of his time in the scouts and on the force. Tells you about how much he loves just... laying out under the stars with somebody special, to sit around a campfire with friends, then slyly ask is you've ever had somebody to do that with. He knows you're younger than him, and he struggles with the idea that you won't want him cause of it, so for now, he'll bask in the feeling of seeing you curled up in his room, keeping the idea of picking you up and having you accept his cock to himself. If you can get pregnant, his fists his cock to the thought of that too. He's not some horned up boy, he wants you in the long term.

He looooooves the yearly orienteering final, in which the students in the class are made to go on an actual camping trip. It's possible a tent will 'accidentally' go missing, leaving you to bunk with him. Don't worry, nothing bads gonna happen while you've got this burly bear of a man practically spooning you, warm gut from his dad-bod pressed against you as he tries his best to make sure he doesn't scare you.

"Sorry those damn boys left your tent back at the school, kiddo. I... wouldn't be suprised of one of them did it on purpose, little bastards." He grumbles, hoping you'll take the hint to separate yourself from those immature preps and stick to being with a man who can treat you right. "Remember that lesson from a couple weeks ago, on body heat? I know it's awkward, but we've only got one sleeping bag. You feel like you can trust this old man to keep you warm?" Unfortunately for his ego and trying to keep down his urges, the trees aren't going to be the only wood in the morning.

◇ Mr. Paul Burton, head of the arts department. He's so over this, a once decent artist who dabbled in pop art and theatre only to stop getting gigs and be black-listed after offending several more famous artists, calling their work 'sell-out chic', he's now a burn-out who smokes and ignores his students all class. He's passionate about art, but frankly he doesn't want tow aste his time teaching when he knows these rats are taking his class for easy credit. He's only teaching here to utilize the facilities and studios so he's not living in a van in the Walmart parking lot. A mix of hippie culture, live and let live and cynical burnout, he's so. Fucking. Done. But... maybe you change that for him.

You're interesting, a headmasters child who doesn't fit in to your fathers perfect mold? Maybe a rebellious student who goes against the grain of this perfect school. Or a blooming ray of sunshine in this dark den of privilege and conformist curriculum for the future lawyers of the world. Either way, he's found a new muse. See him after class.

He'll be thrilled if you're into art, let him guide you. Tell him your favorite artists and he'll tell you when he threw up on there shoes by accident in his hey-day. Gossip about a student you don't like, he'll listen while he smokes and tell you about how that guys mom hit on him. He loves to gossip, but he loves to watch you create more. The way your hands shape a vase or brush across a canvas light a fire in him he hasn't felt in a while. He's more willing to forgo the age gap between you, while it's never something he considered before, he knows he's not gonna let go of the one thing that makes him feel like he lives again. Besides, he's always been unconventional.

He'll have you stay after class, maybe he'll have you pose nude for a painting, assuring you it's fins, it's platonic, it's just for the love of art. He chooses and extra large canvas, it lets him paint while he relieves himself as you explain you're getting cold. He'll put on some artsy, silent, black and white film from the 30s, and while you watch and slowly realize it's pornographic, He'll grin to himself while he watches you flush. He'll ask you all sorts of questions about your thoughts on the film, the actors, what they're doing. He really wants to figure out how experienced you are. "What do you think of the composition? It's really carnal, you know?" He puts out his cigarette. "I'm glad I can show this to you, you'll actually appreciate it. You're not giggling like an idiot when some guys penis is out on the screen." He groans, thinking of his other students.

He does actually like one student, though they make an odd pair. Joseph's easily spooked and shy personality clashes with the brash older man's, but he's glad to have someone he can think of as a protege. Someone who loves art as much as him, but get isolated for it. He was doing a portfolio look over when Joseph accidentally turned in the wrong folder. Joseph feels like he might die as Mr. Burton, a man he admires, flips through nude pictures of the object of his affection, and at a distance no less. A part of him wants to rip it away, but he needs this scholarship.

"Please, please, sir! I-I'll never do it again, it was just a phase, I didn't mean for you to see-"

"They're good." Mr. Burton flips through the folder. "Real good. You could really get somewhere with these, maybe not in the fine art scene, but... tell you what." He adjusts his glasses and leans forward on his desk. "We'll do a special session, you and me, yeah? I'll get your friend here, and I'll vouch for your integrity so you can take some less-" he purses his lips. "Stalker-ish pics- Jesus, kid, is that taken from a tree?"

☆ Anatoli Sidorov, probably the best paid staff given how they got him here. He's a Russian coach for a former Olympic Russian swim team, and he joined the prestigious American school to escape shame after he 'resigned' post a doping scandal which he swears he wasn't involved in. (Whether he was or not is your choice.) Still, he's led the boys swim team and track team to nationals several times, and he's a legend among the wealthy benefactors of the school. He's outwardly very serious, hard on his team but respectful of them. He doesn't put up with any unruly or unsportsmanlike behavior from his boys, at least not what he can see. He's very nice deep down, intellectual and funny, though he still struggles with American humor and English.

He adores you when he meets you, milking about with the other students before class. You seem genuinely social, and wanting to fit in. The idea someone could be so welcoming warms his heart. Deep down, he misses his home, and he misses the friends he once had. You're warm, and he likes that. Not to mention, you're a looker. He's embarrassed, especially if you're male, seeing as he never considered swinging the other way, and much less with someone younger. But he can't help but stare when your pretty tits bounce as you run, or the way those jogging shorts hardly conceal your bulge. He even pulled you to the side one to scold you for not wearing regulation gym clothes, before realizing they were and awkwardly sending you back into class. That was a moment of self-reflection for him.

He's not necessarily outwardly softer to you, you might even think he doesn't like you, given that he has you stay late to run or jump rope, or constantly pulls you into time out mid-game. It's all for your own good, trust him. He doesn't like the way some of the boys were looking at you, and he could tell Evan was a only a play away from trying to practically hump you while trying to 'get the ball'. He's made Harrison, who he loves as a player, run laps for talking to you for only a few minutes. He hates feeling like a jealous boy, but he can't help it. You make him feel young.

He establishes a private locker room area for you, since you're the headmasters kid and not an official student. Besides, you're clearly being harassed by the others! So, he's got a nice little closet for you, with a not suspicious air freshener that's not a hidden camera, and a private key only you have access to. (Technically that's true, he just has a bypass key for himself.) He'll snatch a pair of boxers or some panties, slipping them into his track coat for later. Eventually, he'll tell you he's worried you aren't able to catch up to the others, given that you arrived later and started the gym curriculum later than the others. He'll start having extra 'make-up' workouts with you, starting with stretching. One leg uo on the bar, you'll have to excuses his cold hand running along your thigh, or stroking over your chest as him just admiring how your strength and flexibility is evolving. He relishes the feeling of your body on his, groping you under the guise of training and resisting the urge to just slip aside your gym shorts and veg you to take him.

"Little star, part 'dem a little, there ve go." He keeps your legs parted as he works you into a position on your back, against the rubber mats the tumbling team had laid out. He lays just over you, pushing your legs back a little further with his arms, just far away enough to keep you from noticing his hard on, but enough to lightly press it against the plush swell of your ass. Good, let's just- fuck- hold. Let's hold."

☆ Kory Koffman, English teacher and part time librarian! The school outs so much effort into sports, both admin and students seem to forget about him. Hell, the library is used so little they fired the librarian, and he took it upon himself to try and care for the building himself. He's a sweet, shy man, who just wants to share his passion for literature with others. However, unlike Mr. Burton, he was never popular or famous, so he's content to keep to himself, but the loneliness does get to him.

When you wandered into his library one day, maybe looking for a book or seeking refuge from a hoarde ofadmirers, he was happy to welcome you into his little safe haven. He'll give you some warm tea from the little coffee machine he has set up, and sit you down. Let him help you find a book, or tell you about his creative writing class? He'd let you join, even late in the semester! It's not a very full class.

For the first time in his life, he finds himself craving the attention of another, of someone else's company, other than his books. He hasn't felt that need for connection since he was a boy, after his momma passed. He'll do anything to keep you there, and if reading isn't your thing, much to his chagrin, he'll add a DVD section to the library, but only good films and classic for you! No Adam Sandler, those movies are to overstimulating for poor Mr. Koffman.

As his feelings turn romantic, he's ashamed. You're a student, and he's a lonely old man, you deserve someone better, someone your age. However, the thought of you being with any of the many students who mock him in the halls or disrupt his class, the thought of hand you over to those-those imbeciles, hurts him. He wants you, and he's ashamed at the way his trousers go tight when you bend over to get a fallen book, or when you hand him his glasses after he misplaced them (again), the fact he just stares at your finger prints for awhile and refuses to clean the lens. He's not had sex in a long, long time, but he finds himself masturbating more than he ever did when he was younger. He'll watch library security footage openly, moaning and whimpering at his desk with no fear anybody will stop in, no one ever does but you. He wants you as his spouse, you already make his library, his home away from home seem brighter, imagine what you could do for his actual apartment.

"Oh, hello! It's good to see you, it's been a bit." He's a little bitter at that last statement, but adjusts his glasses and continues. "Just remember to stop by often, okay? I'd really, really hate to impose the late policy on you..."

☆ Atticus Critch, the schools latin instructor and head sponsor of student body, (not to mention the man in charge of detention), is a strict disciplinarian. He takes no nonsense from anyone, and despises the behavioral pardons given to boys like Evan or Harrison simply because they are athletes. Peter is obviously his favorite, and when he catches wind of the ways the boys around campus are speaking about you, he decides to take it upon himself to remove the distraction, by having Carter trail you and give you detention for minor inconveniences. Carter isn't particularly thrilled at always having to send you to detention instead of extorting you to get his rocks off, but he's hoping maybe he'll get to 'monitor' detention one of these days.

Initially, Mr. Critch has you doing small tasks, writing lines or organizing things, but soon he starts to see the appeal. If you're a good student for the most part, he's determined to keep you good, and away from all the vermin in this school. If you're bad, he's had plenty of experience in taming brats. He's open with his sexual desires, it his growing affection for you that makes him struggle.

If you've stayed out too late and broke curfew, you can spend detention on your knees, suckling his cock into the late hours. Maybe you've been running around with Tyler. He'll make you lay down on his desk and deny you your climax over and over again, asking 'if not making you cum' is what that boy does to you, never fully satisfying you. He'll make you beg to finish, and to promise you'll be good from now on.

"Come on, repeat it. Tell me you'll be good now, that you won't bother with BOYS-" He annuciates with a thrust, "When you have a man right here, whose willing to take time out of his day to discipline you!" One the amorous session is over though, he definitely softens, trying to prove he's more than a boy in many ways, including good aftercare. He'll dress your limp form back up in your uniform and walk you get you a cup of water from the fountain. "Only ten minutes till your detention is over, dear. Just sit there, take some time to reflect on how you got here." His tone is demeaning, but as he pets your scalp, his touch is so feather-light. Don't expect is to last into the next day though.

[eupheme]

I am obsessed w Logan rn & I’m itching for something where wade teases logan about not being able to please reader in bed so Logan eats her out & fucks her in front of wade while he watches & gets himself off? 😇 (love you btw 🥰)

Oooh love this idea, anon! This felt sort of like a reverse version of come on and show me! so imagine the same vibes, in a different origin story kinda way 💖 thank you for sending this in!

wade wilson x f!reader x logan howlett

rated e | 400 words | wade pov, oral (f rec, implied piv)

He should be ashamed.

It’s like taking candy from a goddamn baby, wrapped up in one of those fucky little sleeping bags. Not even his best acting, and that’s saying a lot. Green Lantern-level, if he’s being honest.

Logan is just too easy. All it took was a pensive look, as he had come in the door. A little shrug, an “I dunno babe, he’s cute and all-“

Paired with an appraising look, as his roommate’s lip curled, “I just-, sorry. There’s no way you’re using your mouth like I can.”

It works. Of course it fucking does, he’s a goddamn genius. Has cheat codes downloaded from GameFAQS that tells him just the right buttons to rile Logan up.

Logan bristles, this full-body thing that Wade can see. A sharp glint in his eyes, a rough growl in his throat.

Wrapped right around his finger.

Like he said, as he gives a sideways glance - too fucking easy.

Logan is a beast.

Should he taking notes? He should be doing something other than staring - breath caught in his chest as Wade watches him devour you.

His tongue is as long as the rumors, and the whimpers Logan pulls so sweetly from you proves he clearly knows how to use it. Fingers that match, plunging deep and curling. Macaroni in a fucking pot, and it’s not even noon.

One of your legs hooks over his shoulder, across the yellow suit, and Wade wants to thank his lords and saviors Liefeld and Nicieza, Dolly Parton - whoever the fuck is listening - that Logan had decided to leave it on, the little freak that he is.

The scene has him as hard as Cap’s shield, and he hasn’t even touched himself yet. Afraid he’ll burst, and if they’re playing some form of sex chicken right now - he’s sure as hell not coming first.

No, that honor goes to you. Logan’s name chanted out, begging - hips rocking into his beautiful, chiseled face as you gush around his fingers like a goddamn goddess.

A filthy glare shot in his direction from between your thighs - and Wade’s never come untouched, but this old dog is certainly willing to learn new tricks.

It’s a clear challenge - Logan’s lips slick with your release and the thought of tasting his girl on those lips have his nails sinking into his ballsack of a bean bag chair.

“Is that good enough for you, mouth?” It’s snarled out, as if Logan isn’t hard as fuck beneath all that leather.

“Oh,” Wade sighs, in a sing-songy voice, “Must have dozed off, peanut.”

Puts his whole wadussy into it, this time. Deserves an Oscar, really, with the way he stifles a yawn. Stretches.

Unable the help the grin. “Guess you outta show me what that jacked hughman can do.”

[heartkaji]

WINBRE BOYS + THIRSTY TWEETS !

inc : sakura haruka, suo hayato , ren kaji, togame jo contains explicit language + celeb au

SAKURA HARUKA !

“ume’s left ballsack says : do you think sakura’s pubes are white or black or are they divided into both like his hair ?”

kill sakura now.

he’s a red cheeked mess of sweat & nervous system shivers. he’s practically hyperventilating as you laugh beside him, melting into a puddle of molten blush cheeks & ultraviolet bone. he shakes at a frequency not unlike ultrasound.

“oh my fucking god sakura—well ? what do you have to say to the fans ?”

you elbow the quivering boy. if you were any less of the devil you are you’d forcefully refuse the question or at least answer it in his place—you did know the truth firsthand after all. but you’re the serpent in the garden & seeing sakura squirm is like an apple down your throat. sakura is still blinking eyes & flushing nose & palms bleeding sweat bullets so you’ve had to grab the phone from his hands in fear it might fall from the way they quake & quiver.

“ what the fuck kind of question is this ? where are your parents ? guardians—?”

“baby, that question could apply to you too.”

“shut up !”

SUO HAYATO !

“slut4suo69 says : i need to know what’s under suo’s eyepatch. is he blind ? does he have some cool sexy scar ? does he have no eye at all ? not that i care. i’d fuck the shit out of his empty eye socket — three holes are better than two !”

“oh.”

you burst out laughing. this is the first time you’ve seen dagger mouthed suo hayato speechless. his mouth is hung agape as he seizes the phone from your hands & reads the tweet over & over again as if it’ll cause the digital ink to melt off & fly away. each time he reads his mouth gets drier & you swear you can see blisters bruling on his tongue.

“this is the most vulgar thing i’ve ever seen.”

“so true ! now answer it.”

you tuck your hair & dip your head over suo’s shoulders to get one last look at the tweet before facing the camera.

“though i can’t match your freak with the whole eye fucking thing, i too, slut4suo69, would absolutely love to know what’s under my boyfriend’s eyepatch.” you bat your lashes at the bedazzled brunette & loop an arm around his elbow. “the fans & i wanna know, suo. do tell.”

“i’m pretty sure i’ve told you this before, angel—“

“aht aht ! no thousand year old dragon bullshit, hayato. we promised to answer all the questions truthfully, remember ?”

suo heaves a sigh, breath heavy & chest tight as you rest your head on his arm. his thumb traces lazy swirls & zig zags over your knuckles.

“i see. if the fans wanna know, who am i to refuse, hm?”

REN KAJI !

“isagi solos your fave says : i need kaji to suck me the way he sucks his lollipops. hear me out y’all—his tongue swirling over your clit, teeth grazing your folds as he—“

“aight that’s enough,”

you giggle as kaji pulls out the phone between your palms. you reach over his lap for it, pathetic attempts to grab the device from his hands while kaji raises it higher & higher. his palm burns against your stomach to keep you away.

“i fucking hate the internet, bro. don’t y’all have hobbies ? friends ? occupations ?”

you’re giggling & snorting as kaji cusses out the camera. “and i swear, word to my mother that whoever wrote this is is like, twelve. what in the wattpad is this ?”

kaji pulls out the cherry red sucker resting in his cheek. “this shit don’t even taste sweet anymore, man.” he flings the candy angrily into a silver can sitting across the set.

you bury your head in the sleeve of his jacket, a red nosed, puffy faced mess of sweltering eyes & plum heavy cheeks. your snorts are muffled in the linen of his sleeves. “heaven knows i love my fans but fuck, i cannot wait for some of you to rot in hell.”

“god ren,” you clap your hands in between teary eyed giggles. “i’m trying to breathe baby please stop..!”

“fuck no. you horny bitches need to be euthanized. eradicated. like hello ? is this what our lord and savior jesus christ died for ? are these the kind of sins he repeatedly has to forgive ? he’s better than me for real cuz i can’t take this anymore.”

kaji walks off the set but you’re too busy wiping tears & sniffling nose to follow. “somebody ! tell him to come back..!”

TOGAME JO !

“kubzscouts is my wifey says : fellas is it gay to want togame jo to slide into you slowly, teasing your entrance with light strokes as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear like ‘you can take it baby, that’s a good girl’ as his big fat coochie crusher69 slips into—jo i don’t want to read this anymore.”

you look up at him with pretty peach painted lips bent into a pout. his palm stops teasing at your thigh momentarily before picking up again, “m’ not quite sure i want you to read it either, pretty.”

you report the account without even waiting for togame’s approval. he cracks a smile when he notices your cherry drenched cheeks & red dyed ears.

“someone seems jealous.”

“and i know that someone isn’t me jo, so which of your other a-b-c-d looking ass bitches are you talking about ?”

togame whistles playfully, palms trailing further up your thigh. his touch is a ghost burying your nerves in sap & soil. you pretend your skin doesn’t ache from the way he draws hearts on your knee.

“now, now. i think we both know i’m a loyal man, yeah ?”

“who’s we ? kubzscouts over here is describing bedroom you with awful precision.”

he lets out a boyish laugh. “she missed a few things, though. don’t i always kiss it first ?”

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload

[indexvirus]

I still think, delusional as I am, that Marika loved Morgott and Mohg...

Not enough. Not like she did her other children, but loved nonetheless. Like Catelyn Stark loved Jon Snow, but only whenever she did not see him; when he wasn't there to remind her of her anger towards Ned for infidelity.

Marika loved Mohg and Morgott whenever they were not there to remind her she was broken and she was fooled by a broken guidance (Staff of the Great Beyond, Count Ymir Dialogue).

This one goes to headcanon territory.

All Marika was given or gained, or she made, was twisted and fragile; her children born cursed, and her order weak from the seams.

With all we know, it's not difficult to guess what made Marika like this. If Metys is to blame for skewed guidance, the Hornsent are to blame for the rest... (Whipping Hut Phantom, Tooth Whip)

Marika was no doubt subjected to the same torture, and it changed her. Considering this, it's no short a miracle she didn't have Morgott and Mohg killed right away. It wouldn't surprise a soul if she'd done so.

A removed npc, Lord Shane Haight, reveals to us the people of Leyndell would gladly maim even their savior, their king, if proven an Omen. If so, they would also gladly denounce their God if proven she had given birth to one. Why would Marika take such a risk?

Did Godfrey force Marika to do so?

Possible, yet Godfrey does not come off a man who'd not understand the consequences, nor a man who - after having to beg his wife to spare his own children - would still love her so fiercely he'd go through hell like the Badlands for her, (Unused Dialogue, Melina's Dialogue Third Church of Marika).

And return so they could be together a God and Lord once more.

No, Marika loved all her children, even Mohg and Morgott. She made sure they would both stay hidden, but had both educated. Allowed Morgott to use the Veil so he could come out of the sewers, and allowed him to study magic.

She even allowed him to gain enough political power to form his own private militia; the Night's Cavalry were operational even before Godwyn's death (Story Trailer, Black Knight Tiche) .

She loved them, but not enough. Every time she'd see them, she'd be filled with rage from the memories of what the Hornsent did to her, and shame of knowing her Golden Order was false. The birth of the twins was the beginning of her disillusionment of the Greater Will.

Morgott would sympathise with her, but Mohg wouldn't take events before his birth to be a justification enough for his and his brother's mistreatment. While his brother was obedient, he chose a path he knew he deserved.

You do not need to be a monster to drive others to the extreme. Marika led Morgott to believe love could be gained with atonement and self-sacrifice, and Mohg to understand love should not have conditions.

[frankenkyle19]

Glitter On The Floor After The Party

description/warnings: Peter x reader at a New Year’s Eve party, Peter admits that he’s never had a New Year’s kiss and against better judgement, reader decides to give him one. Smut, unprotected sex, oral (male and fem receiving), teasing, just a bunch of tenderness and it’s so cute okay thanks bye

Based off of the amazing request I got from our lord and savior @silverzoomies I hope you enjoy it and I hope it lives up to your expectations!!

word count: 4.6k

Loving you,

Isn’t the right thing to do

How Can I

Ever change things that I feel?

If I could

Baby, I’d give you my world

The soft background music of Fleetwood Mac’s “Go Your Own Way” played amongst the chatter and laughs of conversation across the room. You stood leaning against the wall, sipping on a solo cup of lemonade as you did one of your favorite things. People watching. 

You didn’t like to be in the middle of a conversation, but listening to it from the outside was something you did enjoy. You didn’t try to snoop, if someone was having a conversation they obviously intended to keep hush hush, you moved on to listen to a louder, carefree conversation instead. 

What day was it again? Why were you at a party? Oh right, it was New Year’s eve and Charles had decided to host a party at the school for the mutants and others who resided there. As a way to celebrate the progress that had been made in the last year and to hope for a good year to come. 

You never really felt like you fit in with the other mutants. Sure you had a power, and if that’s what people thought deemed you a mutant, then yes, you were one. You wouldn’t even consider it a power, it was more of a curse. A turn off to just about all men who found out about it one way or the other, despite it not affecting them in any way. They just saw you as different and decided you weren’t worth the time of day. Too much work. Whatever. 

Speaking of time, that had everything to do with your power. You were able to slow down time, practically freeze something in the moment.Unlike a certain silver speedster who was able to move  at the speed of light, you were only able to freeze a moment for a certain amount of time, and it took a lot of focus. It was a dumb power, you always thought so, and you weren’t sure it would ever even be useful to the x-men, despite protests from Charles that everyone is important in their own way. Sounded like a load of bull shit.

Figures that one of your only friends was the silver haired speedster himself. Your powers were similar but yet so different, and sometimes it led to arguments between the two of you. You always managed to get over it though.

Peter Maximoff was one of the first friends you’d made when you joined. Around your age, a cocky super speedy mutant definitely caught your eye.

The two of you had been friends for a few months now and had gotten closer quicker than you imagined. Peter and you staying up late to have secret movie marathons, with him always insisting you rewatch Star Wars despite your strong dislike for rewatching movies when you could watch new ones. You did it anyway, being with Peter suddenly made those movies bearable, as if he possessed some other kind of power than his super speed. The power to make any situation a little more bearable. 

You hadn’t seen Peter yet tonight, strangely, and wondered if maybe he wouldn’t be attending. He had no reason not to but as you wracked your brain for an answer, you couldn’t come up with one. Odd. Maybe he was with his family? His mother and little sister? Perhaps he enjoyed spending time with them more. Psssh of course he did, that was his family that he loved, so why suddenly did you feel so jealous. 

Finishing the last of your lemonade you made your way back over to the drinks table to pour yourself something stronger. Maybe a little rum and coke would solve all your problems. Hell, maybe you’d even be able to chill out enough to find someone to hook up with. Lord knows you needed it. You’d been unusually uptight lately and the only thing you could think of was the fact that you hadn’t been laid in a milenia. 

It wasn’t like you to do the dirty with some person who you didn’t even know, but if the night led up to that, you’d have no qualms as long as said person knew where the clit was and how to make you feel good. Was that too much to ask for? 

You were knocked out of your thoughts when a harsh breeze whipped by you, followed by the slight color of silver.

Peter… So he was here. 

A few seconds later and your cup was snatched from your hands and in the hands of someone else who sipped from it. When he put the cup down you saw his familiar deep brown eyes and silver hair. You would be annoyed at the fact that he’d stolen your drink if it wasn’t for the fact that you were actually quite happy he’d finally showed up. 

For being a speedster, he sure was late to a lot of things. Odd, wasn’t it?

“Miss me?” He asked, snatching a cookie from the table and biting into it, a few crumbs cascading down onto his Pink Floyd shirt. He obviously didn’t care as he took another bite and the same thing happened. His silver eyebrows were raised, waiting on an answer from you.

What had he asked again? Oh right, if you missed him…

“I thought you weren’t coming,” You said, avoiding his question. Had you missed him? You weren’t really sure the answer to his question.  It was something you’d have to ponder on for a while.

“Where else would I be on New Year’s Eve?” He asked, finishing off his cookie and scanning the table no doubt for what he’d eat next.

“I don’t know, maybe your mom’s place?” You shrugged. To be honest you didn’t know, you were just guessing. 

“Nope, her and my lil’ sis are at a friend's house celebrating I think. I wasn’t invited. No one wants a freak at their new years party, right?” He chuckled, but you knew inside he didn’t find it very funny.

“Maybe they didn’t want you stealing anything-” You teased, trying to lighten the mood, and it seemed to work. Peter laughed once more, real this time as he shook his head.

“Yeah that’s probably it, never thought of that. Yer a genious” He said, and you noticed another cookie in his hand, already half eaten. 

You took this chance to get a good look at the man in front of you. The silver haired mutant of which you harbored a very secret obsession. How could you not? Anyone who didn’t was either lying or blind. He was perfect in so many ways. From the way his silver hair sometimes fell into his face, to the way his brown eyes sparkled whenever he saw you. 

As much as you’d love for something to happen between the two of you, the risk was just too high. You couldn’t in good intention do anything and risk your friendship with the speedster. It was too risky.

Still, sometimes the way he looked at you had you wondering how he felt. Where his feelings lay. Was there something more or were you reading too far into it all? Probably the latter…

You glanced at the clock ticking on the wall. Thirty minutes till midnight. Thirty minutes till the new year. It felt so close but seemed to be an eternity away. You wondered what this new year would bring you. What you’d accomplish within the x-men. Maybe you’d find a more useful way to use your powers. One could only hope. 

While you were zoned out on the clock Peter had stuffed multiple things into his mouth and now when you turned back to him you saw the corners of his lips were covered in white cream. Jesus…

You raised a brow, shaking your head as you brought your thumb up to wipe the corners of his mouth before wiping said thumb on the sleeve of his silver jacket, much to his dismay.

Peter let out a quiet chuckle and the rest of the world seemed to fade into the background. It felt as if the rest of the world had slowed around the two of you but you knew for certain you weren’t using your powers right now. It was just the effect Peter had on you. Damn it was strong. 

Peter met your eyes before looking away and if you weren’t so distracted by the way his hair fell in perfect waves over his forehead, you’d have seen the way his cheeks darkened and the way he shoved his hands into his jean pockets, clearing his throat.

The odd wave of feeling faded between the two of you and it went back to normal. You chatted and laughed over drinks until the both of you were tipsy, you much more so than Peter considering his metabolism, and by then it was only two minutes until midnight.

The rest of the party had party poppers and noise makers in their hands, read for the clock to turn to 12:00, but you and Peter were still talking to each other, too caught up in conversation to get with the flow of things.

“You know, I’ve never had a New Year's kiss.” Peter blurted out, setting his solo cup down to look at you. His expression was soft and you could see the way his body was burning through the alcohol he’d drank as if it was nothing.

What an odd thing to tell your friend two minutes before midnight. I mean, he wasn’t insinuating anything, surely? He was known to over share many things, including the women he’d had sex with, which keep in mind had not been many these days, and the pornos he’d rented that week. That’s just the kind of dude he was. Absolutely no shame in his game.

You let out a surprised chuckle. Quicksilver had never had a New Year’s kiss? Such an odd thing for him to have not experienced.

“That’s a shame.” Was all you said, setting down your own cup, the drink in it now long gone and deep in your system. 

Peter seemed surprised by your response, as if he was expecting you to reassure him and tell him you hadn’t had a New Year’s kiss either, but that hadn’t been the case.

He opened his mouth to speak once more when people began to cheer around you. 11:59. 60 seconds…

Peter rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he chuckled, wishing he hadn’t just told you about his lack of New Year’s Eve smooching. 

30 seconds. The pull to Peter was so much stronger now, as if the universe was pushing you together like opposite sides of a magnet. 

25 seconds.

Why did you feel this way? Jesus Christ what was wrong with you? Surely you wouldn’t…

15….

The faint sound of Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here could be heard and you were surprised that Peter hadn’t pointed it out yet, considering he was at the moment wearing a Pink Floyd shirt..

How I wish,

How I wish you were here 

We’re just two lost souls 

Swimming in a fishbowl 

Year after year…

10…

No you couldn’t

9…

Get it together!

8…

He’s just your friend! Nothing more!

7… 

But god the way he looked at you..

6…

No, Don’t give in. Don’t ruin what you already have 

5…

Fuck. Screw it. Screw it all.

With a heavy breath you grabbed Peter by the front of his jacket and pulled him down into a kiss. He hadn’t expected it and to be fair neither had you. Time did seem to slow around the two of you now as you felt a surge of electricity crackle through the air between you as Peter finally knocked himself out of his dazed confusion and kissed you back.

4…

His lips were so soft

3..

You could find yourself getting used to this.

2..

He pulled you closer to him, wrapping an arm around your waist as you wrapped your own around his neck

1..

A deep breath, never breaking the kiss and there it was.. Peter’s New Year’s kiss. Finally, he had what he wanted, and so did you. 

Once it hit midnight the two of you didn’t break away. You pulled at each other, urging the other to come closer. You wanted to crawl into each other's skin, get as close as possible. You didn’t care who saw, who judged. The only thing that mattered in that moment between you two was the other. 

You felt Peter’s Hardness against your inner thigh as you leaned against him, coaxing a moan from his puffy lips as he glanced down at you, swallowing hard. That was all the warning you got before he sped the two of you off, time slowing back down once you were both safely in his room at the school. It was just as oddly decorated as his basement-room at his moms house. Obscure posters and gaming machines like Pinball and pac-man. 

Peter attacked your neck with his lips, urging you towards his unmade bed before pushing you down onto it. Rushed  and messily he tore off his jacket and shirt, tossing it to the floor. He paused, glancing down at you beneath him.

“I- is this okay?” He asked, his hands creeping up under your shirt and tickling your rib cage with his long, slender fingers.

“More than okay,” you laughed out. Yea, it was way more than okay. What wasn’t okay was the fact that he stopped. That just wouldn’t do.

You glanced down at the ever growing bulge in the front of his too-tight jeans before your hand cupped him gently, causing him to jut into the feeling.

“Shit- really? We’re really doing this?” He asked, grinding his lower half into your hand for more friction.

You used your free hand to pull him down into another kiss full of teeth and tongue, gently massaging his length through his clothing, causing small whimpers and whines to fall from his parted lips, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“Fuck yeah we’re really doing this, here- just-“ you urged him off of you until the two of you had switched positions, Peter laying against the bed, you leaning over him.

“Please-“ He mewled, looking up at you with his desperate dark brown eyes, begging for the slightest touch. 

Hearing him beg was music to your ears and as much as you wanted to get him to beg more, you were also impatient and wanted to tear his clothes from his body. You’d waited too long for this, you were not going to waste a second. 

You palmed him over his clothing one more before undoing the zipper and button on his jeans, trying to get them down his legs.

“Peter- a little help?” You asked, brow raised as you glanced at him.

Peter, who had previously been in his own little world refocused on you, jumping at the sound of his name coming from your lips. It took him a moment to register what you were asking from him and then, the clumsy idiot he was, in a desperate attempt to kick off his pants, he ended up kicking you off the bed. 

Landing with a thump you gasped, not expecting it and not being able to do anything to prevent it. You peeked up over the edge of the bed to find a mortified Peter who was frozen in place with his pants halfway off his legs as he looked at you.

“Shit- are you okay? I’m so sorry oh my god-“ He helped you back on the bed and despite your giggles and light reassurance he felt bad. 

“Let me make it up to you?” His tone dropped at this and you knew he had an idea. A devilish idea. He picked you up like you were nothing and laid you back on the bed, settling between your legs as he carefully hiked up your shirt until it had revealed your bra, and inside of said bra, your bomb ass titties.

Peter would never lie, and your boobs were absolutely smoking. He was a tits expert after all, from watching hours of pornos, he’d still never seen one’s as pretty as yours, and he had an idea that it was probably because they were yours, and he was now beginning to realize his true feelings for you were much more than just ‘friends’

He practically ripped off your pants, tossing them onto the ground next to his own clothes before his hands traced your thighs.

Your panties were soaked and you were sure there was a wet spot on them that Peter would soon see. It was embarrassing how fast he had gotten you so worked up.

And just like you expected, Peter’s eyes locked onto your clothed cunt, nearly drooling as his thumb brushed over the wet spot in your panties.

The touch felt electric and so, so damn good which was ridiculous because he’d barely touched you at all.

He gently rubbed his thumb across your clothed clit, loving the way that you reacted to his touch.

“Poor thing, need quickie to make you feel good?” He chuckled devilishly and you so badly wanted to kick him. Now was not the time to tease.

“Peter! Please!” You huffed, wriggling around underneath him as he slowly and teasingly pulled your panties down your legs, throwing them over his shoulder. He parted your thighs further to give him better access to your core.

His pupils seemed to dilate as he zoned in on your throbbing cunt and with a shaky breath he leaned forward, parting your folds with his tongue.

Your hands found their way to his hair as you tugged gently on the silver strands, urging him closer.

Peter got the hint and buried his face further into your pussy, moaning at your taste and wetness. All for him. 

It had always been all for him.

His pink tongue jabbed at your clit several times before his lips gently wrapped around the nub, sucking gently, but enough that you could feel it. Hell could you feel it.

Your head fell back into the pillows, unable to keep it up anymore as your legs quivered around Peter’s head. The sight was heavenly. A head of silver hair lapping at your cunt, dark brown eyes glancing up at you as he flicked his tongue inside of you before pulling out to give attention to your clit.

You were surprised by how well he actually ate you out. Most men you’d been with were messy and not in a good way, totally missing any points of pleasure down there, but Peter. God was he good at it. 

He continued his actions, speeding up every now and then until your whines became more desperate and your hips bucked up against his face. Somehow, without ever being together intimately, Peter just knew your tell tale signs that you were close. Maybe the porn had paid off.

“Peter!” You squealed as he pulled away for what felt like the fifteenth time. Your body was shaking with pleasure and a layer of sweat covered your skin, making you glisten. 

“What baby girl? What’s wrong? Doesn’t it feel so nice?” He asked, pressing kisses to your inner thigh as he teased you, his palms rubbing over your knees as he peeked up at you through his eyelashes.

You totally wanted to kick him right now. He was being such an ass.

“Peter! Please- fuck I was so close! This isn’t fucking funny anymore!” You groaned, urging his head back down to your pussy and finally he followed your lead.

He let you guide him back to your core and he began to lap away at it once more, closing his eyes as he moaned against you. His tongue moved inhumanly fast and it was quite literally the best thing you’d ever felt. Better than any store bought vibrator that was available. 

“Fuck! Oh s-shit Peter- feels so good please don’t stop- please please don’t stop this time baby please-“ you begged, holding him by his hair, tugging hard on it as he groaned, open mouthed against you. 

With a few more flicks of his tongue and sucks against you, you were cumming, your release coating Peter’s lips and chin as he did his best to clean you up, moaning against you.

Eventually you had to pull him away because he was so lost in your taste. Carefully you pulled him up by his silver locks, seeing the fucked out, happy expression on his face. 

“So fucking good-“ he wiped his mouth on his arm before sitting up a bit, coming to himself as he finally got enough oxygen.  

Catching your breath, you pulled your shirt and bra fully off, finally being fully naked before you pulled Peter into another kiss, getting on top of him.

He looked up at you with the softest brown puppy dog eyes he could muster, chest heaving as he let a quiet whine slip past his lips.

“Definitely getting much more than a New Year's kiss.” You laughed, hooking your thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them down while keeping eye contact with him the whole time.

“Fuckkk- please touch me- I’m literally throbbing baby you’ve got no idea how much I need you-“

“I think I have some idea,” you gently wrapped your hand around his red leaky cock once his boxers were off, and the sound that Peter made was something straight out of a porno.

“Shhh, Peter you’re really loud-“ you shook your head as you thumbed over the tip of him, watching as your thumb spread the opaque fluid across his pretty pink head.

“Really really want a new years kiss somewhere else-“ Peter panted, despite how desperate he was he was still cracking jokes. Of course. You wanted to slap the smirk off his face, but you had a better idea. 

Rolling your eyes, you leaned down, face to face with his throbbing dick as you pressed a soft feather light kiss to the tip, watching the way Peter’s breath hitched the second you did.

You had him wrapped around your finger, and it was everything you ever wanted and more. Finally, after all this time. You had him. He was yours.

“Oh f-fuck I’m gonna cum- I’m gonna cum-“

“Peter I’ve barely touched you-“ your brows furrowed at his admission, honestly surprised. You had gotten him that worked up from barely touching him? To be fair he had done quite the same thing to you previously.

“Don’t- wanna cum yet- wanna fuck you please?” He asked, batting his eyes in a much too innocent way for how sinful the situation was.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him to fuck you. As much as you wanted to explore his body, there would be time for that later. You too had all the time in the world now.

He pulled you down with him onto the bed as he tried to manhandle you down onto your back and before you knew it he was over top of you, leaning in between your legs, nudging your core with the tip of his cock.

“Can I?” He asked, looking up at you, his hair a disheveled mess of silver on top of his head.

“No condom?” You asked, brushing your thumb across his cheek as he shyly nodded, not meeting your eye, his next words surprising you.

“I-if that’s okay- I saw you were on birth control I was snooping around your room the other da-“

“Wait, pause right there, you were snooping around my room? Peter!” You shoved at his shoulder, an annoyed look settled on your face “what’s wrong with you? Creep!”

Peter put his hands up in surrender as he blushed hard, becoming shy now at his confession.

“I’m sorry, I was just curious! You know me! I'm a snoop!”

“Peter I cannot believe you right now but- dammit, yes. Yes just fuck me already please or im going to explode.”

Peter chuckled, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he slowly slipped inside of you, your slick mixed with his saliva from Peter’s previous actions with his tongue making him glide inside easily. 

The both of you gasped in unison at the feeling of being so close together in such an intimate setting. It was unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. There was almost no pain, despite how deeply he was stretching you out. It was like the two of you were meant for each other.

You clutched onto Peters shoulders as he gave a few experimental thrusts into you, shaky breaths mingling together in the air between your bodies. 

Peter breathed out your name through a moan and you were sure it was the most magical sound you had ever heard and would ever hear.

“Fuck- to be fair I had no idea this was how the night was going to turn out-“ Peter cursed, sweat forming on his brow, not from exhaustion but from pleasure and the restraint it took to hold himself back from fucking you so hard the bed broke.

You laughed lightly, moaning as he hit a spot even deeper inside of you before pulling back out and repeating his actions.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Perfect way to start the New Year in my opinion.” You grinned before your smile was replaced with a gasp as Peter began to speed up his thrusts.

You didn’t fail to miss the way that his body vibrated with each thrust, fucking into you with purpose as he planted kisses and love bites all across your neck and shoulders before sucking one of your breasts into his mouth.

He hummed around the hardened bud before letting go of it with a pop.

“I just gotta say baby- these titties- you’ve been hiding them from me for tooooo long. They are bangin!” You couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his choice of words.

“F-fuck-“ he cursed again, his thrusts becoming erratic as he fucked into you with a kind of desperation you’d never seen from him before.

You didn’t even need him to tell you, you just nodded in understanding, biting your bottom lip between your teeth.

The two of you were close and your bodies were racing to the finish, chasing your euphoric highs.

“I-I-I’m-“ he choked out, unable to form the words.

“Shh, shh I know Peter, I know, me too.” You reassured him. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking him in place and making him go farther inside of you, surely bruising your cervix.

Peter froze against you, humping against you twice more before stilling, filling you up with his warm seed.

The feeling finally threw you over the edge, your body seizing against his, arching up against him before collapsing limply back against the sheets.

The two of you caught your breath before Peter pulled out and laid next to you, tracing your stomach with his finger.

“Holy shit- that- Jesus that was- wow-“ Peter couldn’t find the words as he stared at you in disbelief.

You didn’t really have the words either so you just looked up at him and said,

“Happy New Year’s Peter.”

And he simply responded with

“Happy New Years.”

Maybe this new year wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

[trashmouth-richie]

CONFESSION

eddie x fem! reader

TW: no minors, heavy degrading themes of the Catholic Church, smut, corruption kink, virginity loss, Eddie posing as a priest. Slight daddy kink, rosaries not used properly. Umm yeah it’s smut p in v, cum eating. Etc

a/n: I have no words, I’ll see you in the crimsoned room of hell, or purgatory— in that case, please pray me out.

Trudging with untied boots the thud of his clunky soles echo loud in the steeped ceiling of St. Mary’s. He stubs the lit end of his joint out in the holy water, sizzling and emitting one last pathetic puff of smoke. Dipping a tattooed middle finger into the holy water he makes a lame excuse for the sign of the cross, flicking whatever remnants of moisture left into the open air. Keeping his middle finger high for the man on the cross. 

  Every Wednesday, Thursday and Sunday nights at 7 o'clock on the dot, he had come to the brick built and heavily waxed wooden floored church to repent. 

  Father Hopper had gone easy on Eddie when he found him trying to hot wire his car. Punishing him to thirty confessions stretched over two months time.

Father knew Wayne Munson was on the verge of a thin line of patience, and Eddie was on his last strike with Hawkins PD, next step was prison. A shared cell with the other Munson and ex resident of Hawkins currently known as inmate #89432. 

  Fuck it, I’ll go to jail what the hell do I care? Eddie spat at the rickety table in Father Hopper’s poorly lit kitchen.

  “Son,” Father began, sipping a bitter cup of coffee, thumb nails scratching against the ceramic mug, “you don’t want to end up like him.” 

  “Well. I sure as hell ain’t gonna end up like you. White robes and that cardboard dog collar you wear— yeah fuckin’ right.” 

  That was back in May. What started as a desperate plea to steal a car and possibly sell it to get enough money to  skip the prying eyes and whispering licks of gossip tongues about how he hadn’t graduated, again, — ended with him getting assigned the confessions. 

  A stuffy little closet with Hopper’s coffee breath stenching through a grated screen. The dark walls seems to close in on him as he confessed to petty crimes and sex on Sundays. 

  Leaning against the desk that held glass orbs of candles, he spits in the nearest one. The flame sizzling out. And that’s when he hears it. 

  A small giggle from the pew nearest him. 

  He had seen you around school. Clutching your school books to your chest as you were shoved into walls and lockers. A ghost among the popular chicks and dicks. But never to him. 

  He himself was an outcast and truth be told he didn’t remember the time he hawked a lougie into Jason’s milk carton and stubbed a cigarette into his hamburger after Jason had purposefully knocked your lunch tray out of your hands. The cheap plastic tray hitting the tiled floor with a clank. 

  He might remember but you remembered the way his smile pearled big and pretty, his long lashes dusting the tops of his cheeks as he winked your way, and the way your panties clung with wetness at your heated lips. 

  His whiskey dark eyes bore into your head as he says your name slow, like reciting a prayer. His long legs swing as he struts cockily towards you. Middle of the summer and he’d shed his leather armor. Red flannel open revealing a tanned tattooed chest. Sleeves cut off showcasing muscly trailer park strong arms.  Jeans hacked off above the knee. 

  His smirk danced across his lips, tongue poking out to wet his lips. He had trouble written all over him. And damn did he wear it well.

  “Don’t tell me you’re here to confess the sins committed against our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?” 

  Your legs cross and thighs rub together. A pulse awakening between your legs. 

  “Amen,” you giggle nervously, hiding behind heated cheeks. 

  Leaning his long frame against the edge of the pew, he throws a worn heavy boot over onto the seat, next to your clenched thighs under the white sundress. 

  He leans down, over his knee, his long curls dancing with his gesturing head, he’s leaning close and you can see the reds fading his eyes and the skunked smell of weed. Still that smile has you melting. 

  “So what are you in for? Forget to genuflect before sitting down last Sunday?” 

  His joke earns a smile from you and seeing your lips pull your cheeks up has him twitching in his jeans. 

  “No,” you roll your eyes in a girlish way, batting your lashes, “it’s not that.” 

  “Ah!” Eddie says jumping up, “no bother, I don’t think Father Hopper isn’t gonna show anyway.” 

  You don’t mean to frown and Eddie almost laughs out loud at your pout. 

  Strict as your parents were, they were demanding that you needed to confess for your sins. They were already pissed you skipped out on college, might as well take 10 years off school, you’ll never go, they hated your job, hated even more that you didn’t really have friends outside of the “weird Buckley girl.” 

  By the end of this month you’d have enough money saved up to move out, and oh how you couldn’t wait. 

  The dirty word slips before you catch it. Hands covering your mouth quickly, the heat on your cheeks burning deeper. You peer at Eddie with big eyes.  

  He cracks a slow smile and leans forward. Licking his chapped lips again. He’s so close to you you can see every eyelash in high definition. 

  “That’s another sin, one more and the floor will open and we’ll both be engulfed into the fiery pits of hell.” 

  “Actually I think it’s purgat—” 

  A ringed finger is placed vertically to your lips, shushing you from finishing. The satin feel of your lips on his rugged finger makes him ache against the teeth of his zipper. 

  Tracing your face with his eyes they dip down the slope of your nose and past the curve of your lips, the delicate pink rosary is hung on your neck with such daintiness it’s almost in open invitation. 

  He about chokes when the goosebumps rise on your throat from his stare, a bead of sweat trickling in between your tits. 

  Dark eyes swim into yours, and his smile is impish, full of wicked delight, “Let’s go.” 

  His hand snakes down your shoulder and he grabs your wrist in a light but thick grip. Beckoning you with a sinful smirk. 

  “To where?” You manage after peeling your tongue from the roof of your mouth.

  “Time to confess for that dirty mouth.” Eddie says matter of fact, turning his head and dragging you to the confessional booth. “C’mon I’ll act as Father.” 

  Eddie pulls you into the small wooden door in the back of the church opening it for you in a gentlemanly manner ending in a bow. 

  He rushes you in with snapping fingers and a growl making you squeal. 

  Sitting behind the screen where Hopper usually sat Eddie beckons you to sit in his usual assigned seat. 

  He makes a backwards sign of the cross with his left hand and folds his fingers, clearly his throat and using a deep baritone voice, “tell me your sins, sweet girl.” 

  When you giggle, Eddie flicks the screen, “this is serious shit— confess to me.” 

  You begin the way your parents had you rehearse at home. 

  “Bless me Father— wait, should I call you that?”

  “Daddy works best,” Eddie says without missing a beat. And your pussy clenches around nothing. 

  “Bless me,” you hesitate on the word, but Eddie raises his eyebrows to encourage you so you start again, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. 

  “B- Bless me, Daddy, for I have sinned, my last confession was 10 weeks ago.” 

  “That’s a long time ago,” he tsks, berating you, “have you not sinned in these last 10 weeks?” 

  Fingers threading the hem of your dress you answer, “I- I have.” 

  Eddie palms himself at your innocence. “Well?” 

  “I— Eddie—” 

  “Excuse me? My title in this confessional is Daddy please do not make me correct you again,”

  “Sorry, Daddy.” 

  “Good girl,” Eddie purrs. Sending shocks to your clit. “Continue.” 

  Clearing your throat you stroke the beads of the rosary hung against your neck. Counting ten, a small skip, another bead, then ten more. 

  “I was.. experimenting.” 

  “Drugs?” Eddie asks, chuckling in genuine shock, he didn’t think a girl like you would smoke, “yes the devils lettuce is tempting.” 

  He flicks his lighter open and lights another joint he had tucked in his pocket for the ride home. 

  “But we must stop these temptations before they start, plus who are you buying from because I need to know if I have competition.” 

  You move your head to the side and continue thumbing the pink pearly beads in your fingers. The clack of your nails against the beads fill the quiet smoke hung room. 

  “No… it wasn’t drugs.” 

  Eddie’s mind flips like a magazine. 

  “Oh yes the alcohol, another temp—”

  “Wrong again.” 

  Eddie’s frustration peaks, “well I’m not a fucking mind reader so do you wanna explain yourself?” 

  “I— I was.. I was touching myself.” 

  “Oh fuckin, Christ..” it’s mumbled and breathy but you hear it all the same, sending a slick to your pussy from your admission and Eddie’s shock. 

  He’s rock hard. The zipper on his jeans scream, begging for any sort of release. He needs to know more. 

  “Do explain,” he says intrigued, leaning forward, his hands folded under his chin. 

  Adjusting yourself in the wooden chair you cross your legs, and Eddie barely witnesses the white cotton snug between your thighs, the sneak peek having him swallow hard. 

  Taking a breath you go into detail about the videotape you had gotten from the adult section of Family Video. How you had only watched it once and the volume was muted, but you couldn’t get it out of your mind. 

  The way the woman’s mouth curved into an “O” when the man was pleasuring her. The size of the man’s penis and the way it slapped against his stomach when released from his jeans. How the woman’s perked nipples were firm but looked soft against the man’s tongue.  

  Eddie’s drool is wiped from his mouth at your explicit confession, and he starts to palm himself over his jeans when you explain how you had started rubbing yourself over your underwear at night. 

  Thinking you were about to have your first ever orgasm but weren’t able to finish because your mother had walked in on you, legs spread wide on your comforter, toes curling. As you were using the barrel of a curling iron to rub at your clothed clit. 

  The embarrassment from repeating the story to Eddie made your cheeks heat, and you hid behind your hair. 

  The silence is speaking volumes. The only noise is the cream of the wooden seat as you shift again, a flutter in your stomach as Eddie thinks of his punishment for you. 

  “Sweetheart,” Eddie breathes, a hiss on his tongue as he moves from behind the screen, wedging himself between you and the wall, his long frame leaning against the mahogany. 

  Ringed fingers tapping along the plump of his lips, his hard cock outlined through his jeans, “You are a filthy, naughty girl.”

  You scoff, “I am not!” 

  “Oh baby, you are,” Eddie says, boxing you in, “but, I know just the thing to…cleanse you of your sins.” He licks his lips again and stares you down. And you're certain you're looking into Satan’s eyes. 

  “Wh—” you stutter, having to clear your throat, swallowing thickly and dabbing at the sweat on your neck, “what do you have in mind?” 

  Eddie’s wayward curls skim the top of your chest as his lips curve around the shell of your ear, he smells like cigarettes and laundry soap, “bad girls get spanked.” 

  Gasping, he laughs at your shocked face. “I don’t make the rules babe, ok I made that one up, but this is for you swearing in the house of the Lord, now,” he gestures a thumb over his shoulder, “get up, you’re gonna need to be on my lap.” 

  You do as you're told, standing chest to chest with Eddie. Only this time it’s you licking your lips. One stretch up on tipped toes and your lips could connect with his. The faint mark of a nicotine stain paints his bottom lip. You wonder if it would taste like it. 

  He grabs your hips and swivels you around, his rings dig into the soft cotton on your dress, his nails scratching the fabric as he takes his seat. The wooden chair groaning on the sudden weight. 

  Leaning back in the chair he smiles wickedly, legs spread wide, he rubs his lap, tapping for you to come closer. 

  When your body is laid flat against him, you pull at the hem of your skirt to keep your modesty. 

  “This punishment is just for the dirty words,” Eddie explains. His ringed fingers walk along your spine, trailing down your back and up the fat of your ass. 

  He lays a warm hand on your cheeks and rubs it gently. Squeezing every so often. 

  Eddie's cock is hard under your ribs and your pussy flutters at the size of him. He hums and jiggles your ass before explaining his rules for your indiscretion, “you are going to recite The Lord’s Prayer while I spank you. Understand?”  

  You nod dumbly and whimper when his left hand tickles up your thighs. 

  “Start.” He grunts. 

  You begin the Lord's Prayer just like you were taught, standing before joyful cheeked families in a similar white dress on your First Communion day. 

  “Our Father, who art in Heaven, Hallowed be th—”

  A large hand comes down hard with a thwap! on your ass cheek, sending you forward and hitting your head on the wall. 

  “Oh,” Eddie whispers, not hiding the smile in his voice, “if you mess up— we start over. So don’t. Unless this naughty girl enjoys being spanked by daddy? Hmm?” 

  You nod again and continue. Trying hard to remember where you were. Hallowed be…

  “.. Thy Name, Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done. On Eart—”

  Two hands smack your ass at once like sticks beating a drum. The hem of your skirt is lifted past the sheer white panties you are wearing. Reaching for the end of your dress to pull it down Eddie grabs your wrist, putting your hand back where it belongs he issued another spanking. 

  This time he lifts your dress fully and groans at the sight in front of him. Your plump ass has all but swallowed the see thru fabric of your panties. Eddie sucks a breath in through his teeth and places his left hand in the thick of your thighs, warmed by the heat of your arousal, his thumb rubbing small circles. 

  Thy Kingdom… shit. 

  “Thy Kingdom c—” the hardest slap yet has rained down on your nearly bare skin, and it springs tears from your eyes. 

  Eddie smooths over the red mark left on your skin and his tone is irate when he spits, “you already said that sweetheart, start again.” 

  His fingers snake further up your legs and he groans at the feel of your soaked panties on his fingertips. 

  You start again. And the spankings Eddie delivers are swift and merciless. The harder he spanks the more you cry out. 

  Sweat pools between your thighs where Eddie’s hot hand is wedged, his thumb teasing the outline of your panties and pressing soft circles into the fabric. 

  Tears cling to your eyelashes as your punishment comes to an end, welts forming where his rings stung and clipped you. 

  Words of reassurance fall from his lips after every slap and harsh whack of his hands. When Eddie leans over to catch a rogue tear from your cheek before it hits the carpet, your thighs slam together tight with a snap. 

  The groan he lets out is guttural and low. His cock twitches underneath you again. 

  “..and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil Am—- ow!” 

  Quick, hot tears sting your eyes. A jerk of your head reveals a sight you would never imagine seeing… let alone in a church. 

  Pearly, and oddly straight. The calcified and slightly sharp teeth pull out from the red, irritated skin on your ass.  

  “If you want to repent for your sins, you need to put your trust in me, can you do that baby… hmm? Can you listen and give yourself to me? It’s the only way you’ll be forgiven.”

  A perfect dental record sunken in deep, small droplets of blood weep from the pierced flesh from his canines. 

His lips are pulled back in a snarl, dark eyes gleam with a feral intensity so ferocious you’re instantly terrified. He looks like a wolf fighting for a meal. 

  Paralyzed with fear, your lungs spasm in shock as he flicks out his tongue, running the wet tip of the muscle along the pattern of his teeth grooved into your skin. 

  Each pass of his slicked tongue deepens the arousal in your lower stomach. His lips curve around the mark, kissing it better, his hooded eyes never leave yours. 

  You moan when the purpling bruise he’s sucking into your skin is greeted with the same poked teeth that bit you earlier. 

  His thick middle finger had your panties pulled to the side and your arousal is coated thick on his finger as he pushes past your puffy lips. A blunt fingernail sharp against your inner walls. 

  “Fuck,” he groans, dipping his finger into the impossibly tight well of your sweet pussy. 

  Eyes rolling into the back of your head, you mimic his moans and bite into your cheek. Hungry for the look of a broken gasp as your walls flutter and tighten around him. 

  World spinning and head rushing, Eddie has you upright and straddling his waist. when you start to question him he shushes you. 

  Taking the same finger he had plunged into your molten slicked pussy, he rubs the pad of it around your lips. Like a tube of chapstick during a cold winter, he coats them again and again, licking his own, his other hand is tight on your knee and gently skirting closer to your hip under your dress. 

  When he's satisfied with his art on your plump lips, he finally dives in, his breath hot on your skin and you part your mouth in a welcome for him. 

  But he only laughs. 

  A throaty chuckle that mocks you, as you wait for him to kiss you, wait for him to press his pinked lips to yours. Waiting for his tongue to devilishly lap at the corner of your mouth. 

  But all of his attention is zeroing down on the rosary around your neck. 

  Each bead is slick with sweat, warm to the touch against his thumb, as he counts them in his head, your throat gasping on each inhale. Whimpering and moving your hips against him.

  Grabbing the rosary in his fist he pulls you closer to him, biting the fleshy lobe around the small gold hoops in your ears, his dick aches when you whine his name. 

  Huffed whispers tickle your ear and send shivers down your spine and flood your panties, “Such a dirty fucking girl, practically begging for me to fuck you.” 

  Another whine from your mouth and he’s bucking his hips into you, strained denim against wet lace. 

  “Is that what you want?” Eddie demands. His snake-like tongue tickling behind your ear, “all you have to do, is ask.” 

  “Please,” you beg, fingers curling into the flannel of his shirt, head thrown back as he circles your neck and paints hickies with his tongue.

  “Not good enough, baby. Tell me how bad you want this little virgin hole filled.” 

  His hand finds it way under your skirt to the desperate slick of your panties, his fingers sliding around and making slow figure eights against your clit.

  Tits bouncing as you move against his hand, hopelessly with no words you beg him with your body to give you relief. You whine again embarrassed to ask for what you craved, the sin that brought you here to begin with.

  When you don’t say anything he retreats his hand. And you try to chase it as it slips away, you whimper pitifully again, and finally succumb to his demands. 

  All embarrassment gone as you beg him, plead for his cock, “Eddie, please.. please.. I’ve been so good,” you oughta be ashamed of yourself but you couldn’t care less— if he could make you feel this good by barely touching you, you’d be on your way to that glorified “O” in no time, and you can practically hear the Hallelujah chorus.  

  He chuckled cockily at your pleas, but shushes you as he unthreads his belt, and almost chokes when you gasp in awe at his thick veiny cock, slapping up to his belly with a thump and the pearling bead of cum seeping from the slit. 

  His thick ringed hand pumps himself as he lines himself up with your swollen pussy. And when you sink down he slams himself home and you clench around him, a scream escaping your slack mouth.

  He groans low,  trying to even out his breathing around your pretty gasps and breathy moans. 

  “You’re gonna keep my cock warm before I fuck you like the slut you wanna be for me,” he chides, concentrating hard on on anything other than the tight walls of your pussy gripping him. “This is the rest of your punishment… you pray a Hail Mary and warm my cock, no whining, no moaning.” 

  You whimper as his cock stretches you out, practically biting a hole in your bottom lip as you taste yourself from where he painted them with your own arousal earlier. 

  A loud slap to your ass and you’re jolting forward, your rosary tight in Eddie’s fist as he brings you down to his lips, “start praying or I’ll go home.”

  “Hail Mary,” you begin, the same way you started before, only this time the pressure was never lifted, your pussy full of him, and his tongue hot and feverish on your neck, teeth grazing your skin ever so lightly. 

  He’s teasing you and trying to get you to break, he thumbs over your nipples until they’re peaked and sore in his pinched grip. 

  When you get halfway through the sacred prayer, your pussy aches and drips down to his balls. His tongue is lazily working a red and purple ‘E’ into the fat of your tit, one hand still holding the rosary tight against your neck. 

  You’re on the verge of breaking when you suck him in deeper, pushing your walls around him and kegeling him in a death trap. He mins and curses the lord’s name, and he finally snaps. 

  Bangs slicked with sweat and stuck heavy against forehead, he grunts, “Holy Mary Mother of God.” And you’re hiked upwards. 

  The screen you confessed your sins to with Eddie on the other side only a half hour ago, is now pressed tight against your ass as Eddie hammers his cock into your slicked and aching pussy. 

  The moan you elicit is toe curling, borderlining pornographic as the thick head of his clock slams into a spot you were unaware of reaching again and again. 

  “Pray for us sinners… fuck this pussy is so tight… now and at the hour of our death,” Eddie whimpers into your shoulder before biting down hard. 

  And when you yell out an amen your fluttering gummy walls spasm with joyful relief. Coating you and Eddie both with hot arousal as it seeps from you. 

  And the lips you’ve been staring at all night finally touch yours. 

  A bruisingly, sore puncture of lust filled kisses that would have your lips resembling a baboon’s ass for days. 

  He’s babbling now as your feet are wrapped right around his waist, his hands wiggling into his curls and yanking harder sends him over the edge. 

  He drops you onto your knees and opens your mouth with a press of his thumb on your bottom lip, when your tongue is out, and waiting for his cum, he jerks his cock once more and shudders when the hot ropes leave him and drip on your tongue and lips. 

  “Body of Christ,” Eddie says with a smirk, shutting your mouth for you and watching you swallow his load. He expects you to gag, possibly spit it out at him like the other girls would. 

  But when you lick your lips and utter a seductive, “Amen.” Eddie knows he’d never get out of confession for the rest of his life. 

😅hmmm yeah ily there will be a part 2

[mazikeenhyde]

Oh Baby, Pain is Pleasure - PART 2

POLY JUDGMENT DAY X READER (WRESTLER) 

Y/W/N – Your Wrestling Name 

Y/W/N/F – Your Wrestling Name Finisher

WARNING – SMUT,  POLY RELATIONSHIPS, BDSM, SPANKING, VIOLENT REFRENCES, BLOOD, INJURY, ABUSE (CONSENTUAL) 

I’m going to apologise to you all now, and pre-warn you in advance, this is an absolute rollercoaster of a storyline! Shits about to get REAL REAL REAL messy! 

Oh Baby…Pain is Pleasure - Part Two

2 WEEKS BEFORE WRESTLEMANIA – 

The speakers inside our home gym were so loud it felt like the walls were shaking, Rhea & Finn had spent a long time creating the perfect set up! It was truly a masterpiece of absolute Hell. From weight racks, dumbbells, treadmills, resistance machines and more, this room had caused some serious pain & suffering to us all. But we loved it. In the middle stood a large wrestling ring in which I had spent a lot of time with everyone practicing over and over and over again. 

We were two weeks out from WrestleMania, I was nervous, but I had worked so hard to earn my chance at the Women’s World Championship title and neither I nor any of Judgment Day were going to let this opportunity pass me by! Finn had said I would be training with him today with the boxing pads in the ring, so I knew I was in for it, I’d made sure to wrap my wrists up tight. 

Damian and Rhea had gone out grocery shopping while Finn and I hit our workout hard, we had planned on enjoying a big family BBQ cook out for our last night at our home before we all hit the road. Dom, who had been asked by Damian to clean up the kitchen had completely ignored the request and was upstairs instead gaming. That boy was a glutton for punishment I swear, I’m convinced he secretly likes being put over Damian’s knee. He’s there more often than not after all! Though I came in at a close second with Finn. Although we both knew if we ever overstepped the mark too far it would be Rhea that we would have to answer to. Mami doesn’t like to be tested. 

“AGAIN! 1-2. AGAIN 1-2.” Finn shouted as the music continued to blast through the room, he held up the pads with a swift punch followed on from me at each demand. 

“AGAIN! 1-2-3. HARDER, STOP PUSSY FOOTING AROUND Y/N! AGAIN 1-2” Finn shouted again, the sweat dripped down his forehead as he maneuvered his way around the ring shirtless, his footwork light as ever and his manhood bouncing in time to the beat of the stereo. He’d worn those black shorts on purpose, I just knew it. 

 “Y/N! FOCUS! 1-2… 1-2-3… 1-2….AGAIN!” 

I swear...my sweat was sweating at this point, we had been going for what felt like hours. I could barely feel my legs, it was like walking on jelly. My heart pounded, my shoulders were shaking, and my arms felt so weak, yet somehow, I was still going. The determination powering me on. 

But that… that bounce. That shape in his shorts. So full and prominent… it was so fucking distracting.  It wasn’t just my face that was wet at this point, in between my legs that devilish pulse grew every stronger. My inner thighs were like a slip and slide on a hot summers day as I tried my best to continue training, the room felt like it was 101 degrees and… 

SMACK.

Finn went down, shit. Id missed the pad completely and instead of hitting the second-round I had completely taken out our Prince, Our lord and savior, the man I so desperately wanted to spread me out across this mat and destroy me.

 I was in for it. I was fucked. 

Raising my hand to cover my mouth for a second, I panicked before moving forward to assist Finn, but he had other ideas. Instead, leaning back onto his shoulders he leapt up to his feet and rushed over pushing me into the ropes, towering over my head and leaning down so I could feel his sweat drip onto my chest as he spat through gritted teeth. 

“THE FUCK…. do you think your playing at lass…. Hmm.” Finn’s eyes looked down on me, what felt like burning a hole into my soul was also still majorly turning me on. 

“I..I..urr…I” I stuttered, unable to fully ground myself in the situation. Between the music still blaring into the room, my heart beating at an uncontrollable pace and one drop dead gorgeous man looming over head, well I was lost in it all. 

Finn launched the boxing pads off his hands in one strong flinging motion before grabbing my hair and hips and throwing me into the corner ring post. He followed over swiftly grabbing one of my legs and tucking it behind the middle rope while still holding a fistful of my hair with the other. 

“Distractions Y/N…Distractions are expensive.” He muttered sternly under his voice as he lent into my ear. 

“Distractions cost titles.” Finn’s breath in my ear sent shivers down my spine. Christ my inner core was melting at the accent that rolled off his Irish tounge. How I would have begged to put that tongue to work in between my legs, id of choked out the dominant prick and drowned him in my orgasm given half a chance. 

Finn ran his hand slowly from my ankle up my leg, stopping at the hem of the mini gym shorts I had borrowed from Rhea. The slogan ‘MAMI’ painted across my backside in bold font was hard to miss. 

“Distractions…” Finn’s voice was husky, heavy and deep. Slightly out of breath and yet completely in control. 

“Lead to temptations…” He ran his hand over the soaked core in between my legs causing me to tense as his hand, for just a moment his hand touched my clit and I swear it was like the devil had sent this man to toy with what was left of my sanity. We had barely begun, and I could have finished on the spot.

Finn leaned back and rested his forehead on mine for a moment before pulling me in, so our lips were millimeters from touching. 

“Those temptations will be granted… After you win that title.” And with that he stepped away, turning his back on me, and retrieving the boxing pads ready to start training again. 

I didn’t move.

My body was stuck, it was frozen in the desperation to be fucked in this ring. It had been weeks, weeks since any of them would take me to bed. Christ it didn’t even need to be a bed, Id of let Finn, Dom or Damien bend me over and fuck me down the alleyway behind the WWE performance Centre if it had meant I could have gotten some release.

Finn stood glaring at me, “Down…now.” I still didn’t move, I thought if I was a brat then he would have to react. Teach me a lesson. 

Taking my leg off the ropes I stood opposite him only a few feet away, initiating the stare down. I was never going to win mind you, but it was fun to press Finn’s buttons. How my inner goddess ached to lay across his lap, to bury that beard between my thighs, to feel his manhood at the back of my throat. Desperate times call for desperate measures. 

“Don’t test me little girl…” Finn’s voice was harsh now, that sexy playful tinge he usually had was gone. A part of me wasn’t so sure this was a good idea, but then again, it was this or back to training. And I knew which workout I would have preferred.

The Naked one. 

I stuck to my guns, I didn’t move, I didn’t blink, I didn’t break eye contact. 

“Y/N… Raise. Your. Hands” Finn’s words were cold. 

I stayed still. The devil on my shoulder was going for it now. Fuck the prince it said... Literally.

He took his fighting stance and lifted the pads, still I didn’t move. 

“Last Chance…” he warned, seconds before throwing a 1-2 punch in my direction, closing the gap between us. 

I was quick to raise my fists and defend his every attempt. 

1-2, 1-2-3, 1, 1, 1-2, 1, 1-2-3. 

It was relentless, I realized then this was how he would punish me. I was never going to get what I wanted. Instead, he was going to force me to fight, otherwise Id of left this training session with bruises from head to toe. And not the fun kinky kind. 

He carried on, forcing me around the ring in circles, my breath heaving, music still going as the volume seemed to increase, the sweat now dripping from every inch of my body as his jabs kept coming, and coming, and coming. 

Suddenly, the gym door smashed open, and Dominik fell through it tumbling to the floor, closely followed by a rather furious Damian and unimpressed Rhea. Neither had seemed too pleased to come home and find the kitchen still a mess from breakfast while Dom Dom had elected to level up on WWE2K instead. 

I turned my head for a split second at the noise and… well… BAM. 

The pain ran through my head like electricity from a lighting bolt. As if reality had come in that moment, silence fell. Slamming down on the map I grasped at my eye, my vision half blurred and teary as I curled myself up onto my knees with my head in my lap. 

“OW! THE FUCK!” I shouted in Finn’s direction; he knelt down next to me pulling my hand away to view an already blue bruise forming around my left eye. I could barely see him properly, but even in silhouette form he was gorgeous. A complete twat who had just given me a black eye 2 weeks before my big WrestleMania match, but still gorgeous. 

“Told ya lass..” Finn chuckled, “Distractions cost titles!” With that he stood up and pulled the pads off his hands before grabbing a towel from the side and throwing it over to me. 

From the other side of the room Damian towered over Dom, grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt. 

“Upstairs. NOW.” His voice was hash and honestly, I think poor Dom knew he had made a mistake. But I was still  jealous, I would have traded spots with him in a heartbeat just so Damian could have broken me apart instead. There may be 206 bones in the human body, but Id let Damian make it 207, EVERY. DAY.

Dom scrambled to his feet and sped off upstairs with Damian following close behind him. Rhea laughed and walked over switching off the sound system before heading to a little mini fridge, she grabbed a quick snap ice pack and wrapped it in a blue paper towel before hopping up onto the side of the ring. 

I scooted my way over and climbed under the bottom rope taking a seat next to her. Tears still in my eyes and with the Ice pack in hand she held it up to my face brushing the loose hair away that had escaped my messy bun. 

I looked longingly into her eyes, hoping she would see the desperate need I had for her. Not even just in the bedroom, just to be held. I felt tired, broken and now thanks to Finn...sore. I was nervous for this upcoming match, truth be told I was absolutely terrified and I just needed to feel loved. 

Rhea smiled at me, gently kissed my cheek and hopped off the ring apron, heading for the door. One hand on the frame she stopped for a moment and looked back over her shoulder at me and smiled. 

“Sorry Bunny, rules are rules. No distractions.” Rhea said before closing the gym door behind her. 

I don’t know why I felt so hurt in that moment, they weren’t being cruel. It was standard with anyone, 100% focus on the upcoming championship. 

Win the belt. Win the belt. Win the belt, become a champion. 

Reality bought me back to earth when my phone buzzed on the gym floor, I looked down to where I had discarded it, prior to stepping in the ring with Finn. Tossing it around like it didn’t cost thousands, typical gym behavior. 

Jumping down off the apron, I sat on the floor with my back to the ring, I could hear the faint mumbled sounds of Damian upstairs and wondered for a second just how much trouble Dom had gotten himself into. Honestly boy, just load the dishwasher. It isn’t that hard. 

Shaking my head and smiling I attempted to unlock my phone screen with facial recognition but the ice pack put a stop to that plan. Instead tugging with my teeth at the sweat soaked hand wraps I was wearing I managed to get them off and using my Pin I unlocked the screen. 

Time Stopped. 

It stood still. 

Shit. 

Two messages. 

One from an unknown number i didn't recgonise, and one from a very well-known number I needed to forget.

KNOWN NUMBER – ‘Nothing makes us as lonely, as our secrets Y/N. You know where to find me…’ 

UNKNOWN NUMBER –  ‘Locker Witnesses’

[merwgue]

Rhysand is often portrayed as this perfect, morally grey ruler, but when you take a closer look at his actions, it's obvious how messed up he really is. Let’s break down the so-called “benevolent” High Lord of the Night Court.

1. The Hewn City – The King of Torture? Rhysand's treatment of the people in Hewn City is straight-up barbaric. The way he holds power over them isn’t out of necessity or to “protect” them from worse rulers—it’s control through fear and violence. He tortures them, plays with their lives, and enjoys maintaining his iron grip on them. It's almost like he uses them as his personal stress toys. Is that really the hallmark of a just ruler? Sure, Hewn City isn’t full of saints, but for Rhys to stand on his high horse and act like he's saving everyone while still torturing his subjects? Hypocrisy at its finest.

2. Rhysand and Feyre – Let’s Talk About Consent Let’s not forget that he literally assaulted Feyre Under the Mountain. I don’t care how anyone tries to frame it as him “saving her” from Amarantha—there’s no excuse for the way he took away her agency. Rhys manipulated her, forced her into wearing those skimpy outfits, and paraded her around for his entertainment. All while pretending it was for the greater good. It's pretty damn disgusting how that gets brushed under the rug like it was some noble sacrifice when in reality, he robbed Feyre of her choices.

3. Planning to Execute Nesta – The Line Between Justice and Control Rhysand and his inner circle legit planned to execute Nesta, all because she didn’t fall in line. Nesta had her faults—hell, a lot of them—but threatening her life because she didn't act the way Rhys wanted? That's not justice; that's manipulation and control at its core. He wasn't trying to protect anyone. He was pissed that he couldn't control her, that she wasn't another cog in his perfect little machine of Night Court harmony.

4. Tamlin – Kicking a Man While He’s Down Say what you will about Tamlin, but there’s no denying that Rhysand completely overstepped every boundary when it came to him. The Night Court loves to preach about freedom, but Rhys had no problem strutting into Tamlin’s land, throwing it in his face, and making an already broken man feel like utter shit. There’s a difference between defending your own and downright antagonizing someone who’s in the depths of depression. At one point, he basically told Tamlin to end his own life. What kind of "savior" talks like that to someone who's clearly struggling? It's downright cruel.

5. The Night Court – A Dictatorship Wrapped in Pretty Words Rhysand's Night Court is sold to everyone as this place of freedom, where people can be who they truly are—but at what cost? If you cross Rhys or don’t fall in line with his vision, you either face his wrath, his torture, or his manipulation. He's not running a court; he's running a dictatorship where everything is fine as long as it aligns with his master plan. The fact that he keeps calling himself the “most powerful High Lord in history” just feeds into that massive god complex he has. The ego on this guy is unbelievable.

6. Double Standards – The Morality of Convenience Rhys preaches about freedom and respect, but he only seems to extend that to people he deems worthy. If you’re in his circle or someone he cares about, great—you get all the privileges. If not? Well, tough luck. He’ll trample over your land, threaten your life, or torture you into submission. The cherry on top? Everyone around him acts like he’s the greatest thing to happen to Prythian, and the fandom just eats it up.

So, yeah. Rhysand is fucked up. He’s not just morally grey—he’s power-hungry, manipulative, and borderline sadistic. His version of “ruling” the Night Court is as hypocritical as it gets. Benevolent High Lord? More like the king of self-righteous cruelty.

7. Locking Up Nesta – Rhysand’s Tamlin Moment Remember how everyone vilified Tamlin for locking Feyre up “for her own safety”? Sure, it was messed up, but the narrative painted him as this controlling, possessive villain because of it. Now, fast forward to Rhysand, who literally does the same thing to Nesta. She’s spiraling, yes, but instead of finding her real help or giving her space to heal, he decides to trap her in the House of Wind like a damn prisoner. He takes away her freedom, isolates her from the outside world, and forces her into a situation she clearly doesn’t want. How is that any different from what Tamlin did?

But here’s the kicker: Rhysand gets praised for it. Why? Because he’s Rhysand, the supposed hero, and everything he does is always “for the greater good,” right? It’s utter bullshit. He used the same controlling tactics on Nesta that Tamlin used on Feyre, but the fandom acts like he was being this saintly, tough-love older brother. What he did was textbook manipulation, stripping away Nesta’s autonomy because she didn’t fit into his perfect vision of what recovery should look like.

8. Forcing Recovery on Nesta – Ignoring Trauma Let’s not sugarcoat this: Rhysand locked up a woman who was using drinking as a coping mechanism and basically said, “Tough luck, you’re staying here until you fix yourself.” That's not helping; that’s punishing someone for their trauma. Nesta was in pain, lashing out and struggling to deal with what happened to her. Did she need help? Absolutely. But instead of offering her real emotional support, Rhys just forced her into a recovery program that suited his standards and timeline, not hers.

What makes this even worse is that Nesta was self-harming through drinking, and instead of addressing the root cause of her pain, Rhysand and his inner circle chose to control her like she was a problem that needed to be fixed, not a person who needed to be understood. There’s nothing noble about that.

9. Rhysand’s Hypocrisy – Tamlin vs. Himself This is where Rhysand’s hypocrisy really shines. He condemned Tamlin for being controlling, and Feyre (rightfully) left that toxic environment. But Rhys turns around and does the same thing to Nesta, and instead of being held accountable for it, he gets celebrated for “taking action.” How does that even make sense? It's such a double standard that it's almost laughable. Tamlin’s actions were wrong, but Rhysand’s were just as bad, if not worse, because he knew better. He knew what it felt like to be controlled, yet he did it anyway.

10. Stop Giving Rhys a Pass People need to stop giving Rhysand a pass for his behavior. He gets away with literal torture, manipulation, locking people up, and trampling over others' boundaries because he’s good at hiding it behind the facade of “protecting his court.” He’s not the hero people make him out to be. He’s just as flawed and fucked up as the people he claims to be better than.

At the end of the day, locking someone up—whether it’s Feyre in the Spring Court or Nesta in the House of Wind—is a violation of their autonomy. Rhysand isn't some hero swooping in to save the day. He's a controlling ruler who just happens to be good at spinning the narrative in his favor.

[hp-hcs]

Um, yeah, I don't really have a specific character in mind (so you can ignore this if u want to!), but how would some characters react to a male reader who listens to muggle music, but like- metal?? yk

this is the kind of shit i wanna see in my inbox hell fucking yeah

❕i’ll be honest, my vibe has always been more punk/pop punk/metalcore/hard rock 🤷‍♂️ i did my best buttttt these are all just songs from my playlist so- (i adore my slytherin babygirls but they’ll always be second to my lord and savior glenn danzig)❕

also accidentally wrote gn reader again so that’s pretty girlypop

requests open

i’ve never actually written one of these like, group headcanons for a whole bunch of people, but i keep seeing other people doing it so we’re trying it out ig. do we like it? yes? no?

slytherin boys: gn! muggleborn! reader’s music taste is rather…unexpected

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

mattheo: die, die my darling — misfits

i’m of the opinion that mattheo would fucking LOVE the misfits (once you introduce him)

he walks into your dorm to ask you a quick question, and you’re just dancing around in your room screaming the lyrics to:

“DIE DIE DIE MY DARLING, DONT UTTER A SINGLE WORD”

“DIE DIE, DIE MY DARLING, JUST SHUT YOUR PRETTY MOUTH”

he’s like 🧍‍♂️😦😍

and that’s when he falls in love with you

jk, unless????

you show him the misfits’ entire discography, and bitch about jerry only (as u should)

he takes a bit too much of a liking to helena 🤨

yk, the song that goes “if i cut off your arms, and i cut off your legs, would you still love me, anyway? if you’re bound and you’re gagged, draped and displayed, would you still love me, anyway?”

🤨🤨🤨

interesting, mattheo. interesting. not concerning in the slightest.

he adores them and you guys listen to their music together when you study <33

y’all start running around screaming I AINT NO GODDAMN SON OF A BITCH

your teachers love it <3

theodore: nazi punks fuck off — dead kennedys

y’all were showering together

(is that really like a sexy thing? i sure as fuck don’t know 🖤🩶🤍💜)

you started singing to yourself and babygirl was like 😳☺️

he loves ur voice <3

even when you’re singing “nazi punks, nazi punks, nazi punks FUCK OFF”

(cause like……yk…….he’s a wizard nazi himself 😬👍)

awkwarddddd

he always lets you put on your music

to be honest, he doesn’t really care about the lyrics, he just loves that you love it

(*cough* simp *cough*)

draco: possessed by satan — gorgoroth

you’d just come back from winter break and had brought one of your holiday presents back with you: a new record player and a shitload of vinyls

you set it up in your dorm and asked your roomie, draco, if he’d mind if you played something

he'd never admit it, but he was wildly curious what muggle music sounded like

so of course, you blessed him with the sweet sweet sounds of gorgoroth 😌🥰

(aww, nostalgia <3)

he just looked at you like 😨

you then proceeded to educate him on gaahl beating the shit out of someone (a l l e g e d l y) and threatening to drink his blood

he’s now even more concerned

(do you or do you not tell him about the gogoroth concert ft. alive ‘crucified’ actors & impaled sheep heads vs. the country of poland?)

((idk babe that’s for you to decide))

blaise: boogie woogie wu — insane clown posse

i feel like blaise is chill enough to give any music a shot before deciding if he likes it or not

you weren’t that close, just acquaintances, but one day you just offered up your other headphone to him in the middle of a really boring class

oh, he’s in love

🎵😍😍🎶

you make him a playlist of songs you think he’d love, and he lowkey almost starts crying and that’s how he asks you out on your first date

(is it terrible to think that this might be your wedding’s first dance song?)

((NOW MURDERRRR))

(((UH OH, HERE COME THE PO-PO TOO MUCH MURDER)))

enzo: custer — slipknot

it’s your ringtone for someone 😌

like ur mom, or something? idfk

“incoming call from: birthgiver” 🎵CUT CUT CUT ME UP AND FUCK FUCK FUCK ME UP🎶

enz:🧍‍♂️

he doesn’t even know how to react

he’s only a bit terrified

he’ll listen to a few other songs you play for him, but will make you play the weird sisters afterwards

tom: reincarnate — motionless in white

he’s bitching about how much muggles suck and muggle music is trash blah blah blah

and ur like “oh really? wanna bet?”

you whip out your phone and start blasting your playlist

he would absolutely eat that shit up

it’s cheaper than therapy ig 🤷‍♂️

he hates being wrong about anything ever so he’ll never admit out loud that he likes it, but he will just show up at your dorm at like eleven pm like:

“do you have any more uh……song recommendations or something…..uhhhh” 🧍‍♂️

babygirl 💞

[dylan-o-yumm]

Little Moments - Leon S. Kennedy/reader

It has been a hot minute... I’m sorry I’m not making an amazing come back with DMC or Nero content, but hey at least it's still Capcom? Anyway, Leon is babygirl 

Also read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46338547

Words: 6.6k Summary: Leon rescued both you and Ashley from the events of RE4, now the thereof you are "relaxing" in a hotel, unwinding before Leon has to take you both home in the morning.

Part 1, Part 2

“I could sleep for a year.”

“Just a year? Rookie numbers.”

“Are you guys kidding me? I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep a wink after everything I’ve seen over the last few days.” Ashley wrapped her arms around herself and looked wearily around the cozy hotel room, as if a crazy, plaga-infected Spanish person was going to jump out from the shadows. You couldn’t blame her for being so on edge, you’d be the same if Leon wasn’t there with you.

Ashley was the president's daughter and you were… just someone who was in that damn village at the wrong damn time. Leon was a special agent of some sort, somebody the president sent to find his daughter— but Leon just so happened to find you first. He saved you. And then he saved you again. And again, and again. No matter what happened, you knew Leon would be there like a knight in shining armor.

He made you feel safe but, the poor guy looked like shit and needed to finally rest. He had done so much work, busted his ass for— fuck, was it really only a day? Two days? You can’t remember how long you were there, let alone how long Leon was there looking for Ashley — and by proxy, you as well.

“Ash, it’s fine. We’re out of the village now. And even if some of the Iluminados freaks managed to escape, well… you saw how they were after their lord and savior kicked the bucket.” You turned to face Leon, gesturing for a little reassurance to come from him. Hopefully hearing it come from Leon would calm Ashley’s nerves somewhat.

Leon blinked and his lips parted as if he hadn’t been listening to a single word that had been said since he commented on how you wanted to sleep for a year. However he snapped back to hero mode rather quickly, looking around the room while he stretched his back muscles.

“I’ll stay up and make sure you’re safe. My job isn’t done yet.”

You and Ashley both shared a look.

“I think out of all of us, you need sleep the most, Leon.” Ashley told him with a concerned look on her face and you nodded in agreement. You opened your mouth to add your insight but Leon raised his hand to stop you, already knowing that you were going to demand that he sleep before you knock him out with a frying pan.

“I dozed off a few times at the village, I’ll be fine.” He shrugged as if it really didn’t bother him but you could see the exhaustion all over his face and in his shoulders, his muscles. Hell he had an aura around him that beamed like a bright neon sign that made you tired just by looking at him.

“It’s just one night. I’ll take you both home tomorrow and then I can go home and sleep for as long as I want, how’s that sound?”

“Leon…” Ashley sighed but you beat her to the punch.

“I’m too tired to argue. Just, at least sit down or something. I’ll make you some coffee,” you sighed and rubbed your forehead where a sharp headache started to irritate you. You dealt with too many loud noises; explosions, gunshots, too many bright lights from flash grenades and fires from molotovs, and the screaming and yelling of the Illuminados or Ashley or yourself. Everything from that damn village and the island, up until the point of getting out of the ocean after a long, loud and bumpy ride on a jet ski, was all building up into one big headache.

Leon didn’t have anything else to say after that, opting to do as you said and taking a seat on the couch by the window. You moved to the small kitchen and started boiling water while Ashley said she was going to go have a shower.

The three of you were still pretty filthy. The ocean water washed some of the grime off, but the stench still lingered and you all had scrapes, cuts and bruises. Your body ached from all the running around and getting thrown about and whacked and hit and kicked by the crazy villagers. Leon took the brunt of it all though, which is why you were worried about him the most. He really needed to rest. For a week. Or in your words; a year.

You all did.

Once the coffee was made, you brought a mug out for Leon, pausing for a moment to watch as he yawned so intensely his eyes started watering. Though, when he noticed you looking at him, he quickly shut his mouth and rubbed his eyes, pretending he hadn’t just been fighting off the urge to sleep. He gave you a little half smile and went back to unwrapping the bandage from his arm to check one of his many wounds.

You could have teased him for yawning, you could have angrily told him to get some sleep. But you didn’t.

“Need any stitching up?” You asked as you placed his mug on the coffee table in front of him, holding a second mug in your hand and moving it to your lap as you sat down on the couch beside him. The heat from the mug warmed your hands and made you feel more at ease.

”No. I could do with a good massage though,” he replied with a small grunt, rolling his shoulder out and you got a good look at his bicep. There was a scratch from an ax being thrown at him that, thankfully, only just nicked him. A long, but thankfully, not deep gash from his battle against Saddler. And finally a large bruise that spanned from his shoulder down to his elbow in an odd splotchy pattern. You weren’t sure what that one was from but you could take at least a dozen guesses.

You weren’t sure if he was asking you to give him a massage or not— he sure did like his cheesy one-liners and little quips, maybe this was one of them?

“Get in line, buddy. I don’t think I’ll physically be able to get out of bed in the morning,” yeah, that was a good common ground to avoid any confusion and possible embarrassment.

“It will be tough, yeah…” you could tell he was speaking from experience. How many crazy missions like this had this poor man been through? “You handled yourself well out there. I want you to know that.”

He turned his gaze to your direction but he didn’t quite meet your eye. He sounded genuine though and it made your heart skip a beat.

“You mean by… running, hiding, screaming. Oh yeah I handled myself very well,” you chuckled sarcastically and brought your cup of coffee to your lips, taking a sip.

“Hey, just because you didn’t kill anything, doesn’t mean you weren’t tough or brave,” now he finally met your eye. His own eyes, so incredibly blue that it was hard to remember them glossing over and turning a dull red from the plagas only a few hours ago.

Was that a few hours ago? It felt like it had been days since that happened.

You didn’t know how to respond, and thankfully Leon spoke up again before you could.

“Are you drinking coffee?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re not trying to stay awake, are you?”

“I don’t think even coffee could help me stay awake at this point.” Was it a lie? No. Was it a small truth that you admitted so that you didn’t have to reveal the big truth? Possibly. You were definitely too tired for coffee to keep you awake, but you were also trying to stay awake, at least a little longer, so that Leon wouldn’t have to suffer through the night alone. You couldn’t imagine what kind of thoughts he must have when it got quiet, when he wasn’t busying himself by running around castles or villages, or killing monsters.

You were tired. But so was Leon and this was the least you could do for him… You just couldn’t tell him that’s what you were doing, or he would probably knock your ass out.

You’re not a fighter. You’re not a cool secret agent with gadgets, nor were you a military trained soldier who could turn anything into a weapon. You couldn’t do the things Leon could do, you couldn’t protect him, you couldn’t save him from monsters…

Staying awake for a night just to keep him company so that he didn’t have to suffer alone? It wasn’t grand, it was nothing like the magnitude of favors and rescues he had done for you over the last however many days. But it was something. You couldn’t really do much else.

Maybe you should give him that damn massage.

“So why are you doing all of this, Leon?” You asked, wanting to change the subject so he wouldn’t figure out your little plan. He raised an eyebrow at you over his cup of coffee and you elaborated. “You came to the village because of the president's orders, right? To save Ashley… So what made you want to work for the president of all people? Or is that classified information?” You teased, knowing damn well it could definitely be very classified.

Leon chuckled.

“It’s a little classified, yeah. But I will tell you that… I met a girl a few years ago. And I want to make sure she’s safe,” he nodded softly to himself, as if reminding himself why he just went through all the horrors of the village. His already soft features softened even more as he thought about this girl.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

“I think that’s illegal considering she’s a child,” he smirked slightly, as you looked down at your lap in embarrassment. “She escaped Raccoon City with me and another woman named Claire.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” You asked again, emphasis on the ‘she’ and a little teasing smile on your lips.

“Suddenly interested in my love life, huh?”

“Maybe I’m just trying to be a good wingman for Ashley. You know she’s crushing hard for you.”

“Oh this is for Ashley, huh?” His lips curl in amusement and you shrug, playing innocent. You both smile at one another as the world seems to stop spinning for a moment. Everything was quieter, the sound of rushing water from Ashley’s shower had even been drowned out, and now it was just you and Leon. You could breathe, you could take your time and just look at him, taking in the fine details of his face; the color of his irises, the sharpness of his jaw, the dip of his cupid's bow, the pinkness of his lips and the strongness of his chin.

Beautiful.

Inside and out, this man was… beautiful.

He was looking at you too, but it was different. His eyes dimmed, no longer shining along with his smile… it was like a part of him had left and gone somewhere else, no longer sitting right beside you. He looked through you, barely seeing you at all as he reminded himself of his job and why he was here. His smile faded and his eyes dropped, refusing to meet your gaze anymore.

You were admiring everything about him, and he was slowly drifting away from you. Like two ships passing in the night.

“Look… I can’t— I can’t have someone—��� he sighed and scooted closer to you on the couch, resting his gloved hand over the top of yours that was still holding your coffee mug. He was warm, even the leather of his glove was warm and it grounded you– it was a little prickly from where it had torn and frayed a little, from welding guns and knives all day long. His hand squeezed yours once, his pinky resting against the pulse point on your wrist. “I just can’t. Sorry...”

He was definitely not talking about Ashley anymore. You were only teasing and joking around about his relationship status, and you knew that he was far too good for you. Thanks to your low self esteem, and your confidence in Leon never being capable of looking at you the way you looked at him… that ship sailed hours and hours ago, practically when you very first laid eyes on him… But his words still felt like a knife to your heart for some reason.

You blinked once, shaking yourself out of the trance you had put yourself in, and your lips parted. You weren’t sure if you wanted to say something, or if you were going to say something, or if you should have said anything at all. But thankfully—

“Leon! Your turn! You stink. Who knew saving some damsels in distress was such tough work, huh?” Ashley teased as she burst out of the bathroom looking completely refreshed and clean. Her hair was twisted up into her towel while she wore the same clothes she wore in the village. Maybe you could go in search for some robes the three of you could wear or something— at least just for the night. You could go buy some clothes in the morning before the three of you headed back to your respective homes.

You and Leon jumped apart and refused to look at one another, as if you had been caught doing something naughty by your parents. If a hand on yours was considered naughty then you never wanted to be pure. Leon took a final sip of his coffee before placing the mug back down on the coffee table, and when he stood, he looked at Ashley, vaguely gesturing towards her. “Will you two be okay while I’m gone? I’ll only be a few minutes.”

“Leon please. The only thing we’re in danger from right now is your body odor,” she teased even more, skipping over to grab Leon’s arm and ushering him towards the bathroom. “Im stronger than I look, don’t make me wrestle you into the shower, Leon.”

You blushed at the thought of Ashley and Leon anywhere near a shower together.

“Alright,” he chuckled but paused in the doorway of the bathroom, finally looking towards you again, but you were silent and didn’t quite know how to feel or react. “Yell if you need me, okay?” It was directed towards the both of you but his eyes were burning a hole into your face.

You simply nodded. And Leon disappeared behind the bathroom door.

———————————————————

“Need me to tuck you in or something?” Leon asked teasingly as he walked over to you. Ashley was fast asleep in one of the single beds, having passed out when you went for your shower after Leon. The three of you were clean, dressed in robes (well Leon wasn't), all comfy— but very tired. No amount of coffee could help.

You were sitting on the armchair by the second single bed, (there were only two but Leon said he was fine sleeping on the couch— this was obviously before he stupidly agreed to just not sleep at all for the night) a book in your lap, one that the hotel just had laying in the small bookshelf. It was terrible and not your idea of a good time at all, but there wasn’t much else to do. You could watch tv but you didn’t want the noise to keep Ashley up.

“Tell you a bedtime story?” He offered once you didn’t say anything to his first teasing question. “I don’t know how good of a story teller I am…”

“I'm fine, Leon. Thanks though,” you smiled up at him. You weren’t mad and you weren’t holding a grudge, you were just confused and felt a little awkward from your previous conversation with him. And with you acting awkward it only made things even more awkward— it… had been a rough few days.

“Okay…” he watched you skeptically for a moment. “Are you worried about falling asleep? I had the same problem after Raccoon City.”

“No-“

“Because I don’t mind staying up, and I can sit closer to your bed if it makes you feel any better?”

“Leon-“

“Ashley’s already knocked out so she won’t mind if I’m keeping an extra close eye on you until you fall asleep.”

“I'm fine. I swear. I just don’t feel like sleeping right now is all…” You looked up at him and smiled, closing your book to lightly wack his stomach with it. He took a step back and placed his hand over the spot you just walked, looking down with a faint smile.

“Right…” he nodded, sighing as he fell back onto your bed, spreading his legs like all men do, and resting his elbows on his knees. His upper body was leaning towards you where you sat on the armchair in between the window and the bed and, feeling a heat make its way onto your cheeks, you quickly went back to reading your book.

“What are you reading?” His voice was lower and softer than it was just a second ago, it sent shivers down your spine.

“I couldn’t tell you. I haven’t taken in a single word since I picked it up,” you looked back over at him and smiled with a small shrug as if to say ‘what can you do?’

“Riveting stuff. I guess it’s better than fighting monsters though.”

“I wouldn’t know, you fought all the monsters for me,” you sassed, as if you were disappointed that you didn’t get to fight anything, when in reality, you know you would have died if you had to go up against one of those crazy villagers. And Leon was taking on half of Spain it felt like, plus those that grew into large monsters with tentacles and big yellow eyes and slime and spikes and goop.

“Well hey, you threw a flash grenade at that Mendez guy for me.”

“I forgot to pull the pin…”

“Yeah, but he looked pretty pissed off when it hit his shin. It was a good throw,”

“I was aiming for his head…” You bit your lip.

Leon sighed and looked down, not knowing how to find the bright side of that little tidbit. A beat passed before you started to chuckle, and so did he. “I know one thing you did that saved my ass.”

“What’s that?” Your tone was humorous, thinking he was going to tease you again. It wasn’t like you did much, especially compared to Leon. Just the fact that he said ‘I know ONE thing you did that saved my ass’ is proof that you obviously didn’t do enough. However, maybe that’s for the best as you definitely would have gotten into even more trouble if you started being reckless.

“Luis’ lab…” he looked down at his hands as he spoke.”I was losing it, I could hardly see, I couldn’t move my body properly. I think I even started hallucinating.” His eyebrows jumped a little as he recalled those moments in his head. It wasn’t very pleasant for you either, but Leon had a lot more of those moments than you did. “I don’t think Ashley and I would have made it if you weren’t there,”

“I think I was just yelling at you the whole time. I was scared.” It was true. You were scared of losing both him and Ashley, and having to find a way off the island on your own. You recalled yelling at Leon while he stumbled through the hallways with an unconscious Ashley in his arms. ‘Hurry the fuck up, Leon!’ and ‘don’t fall down! Get back up! Now!’

“Your yelling got me to keep moving, gave me something to focus on.”

“Well... You’re welcome,” you whispered, looking down at your lap bashfully. Your teeth worried your bottom lip, making it feel a bit tingly and numb. Once you gained the courage to look back up and meet Leon’s gaze — his eyes already on you, watching you intently — you exhaled slowly through your nose and faintly shook your head.

“You’re so annoying,” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he whispered back.

He didn’t look amused, more like... he was agreeing with your statement. He didn’t even look like a kicked puppy, he had just accepted that it was his time to be knocked back down a couple pegs.

His eyes focused on yours while yours focused on his lips. God he was so annoying. And it was even more annoying knowing that he wasn’t doing any of this on purpose. He was just... like that. It was impossible not to like him, not to dream up some fantasy of you and him being closer, more intimate. Impossible not to imagine how soft his lips might be and how his hair might feel between your fingers, and how his rough hands might caress you so gently.

A heart breaker. That’s what he was.

Even Ashley was in the same trap as you — could you even call it a trap when Leon wasn’t aware he had set it, and you and Ashley had both practically willingly jumped into it? You heard her little hints, her little compliments. Calling him dashing and trying to get him to work with her once his mission was over. And you couldn't even blame her! You wanted more time with him as well.

“I wish I never met you,” you whispered, more softly than you had previously been speaking.

“Where would you be without me?” He whispered back just as gently.

His pearly whites faintly peaked out from behind his lips, barely visible but just enough to know that he was fighting off a smile. The corners of your lips twitched upward slightly as you fought off your own smile.

You leaned in.

He didn’t move away.

You leaned in more.

The hint of a smile had left his face and his eyes dropped down to your lips. His own lips parted and his brows twitching- itching to pull together, as he fought with himself. You could see it all — how he wanted to run, how he wanted to pull away, how he was worried and maybe even a little scared. But that wasn’t all, you could also see how he wanted to lean in and give you exactly what you wanted, because he wanted it too.

Conflicting.

You moved in gently and cautiously, your eyelids slowly closing. You weren’t sure if he moved in towards you, or if you managed to get closer to him in your eagerness, but you could feel his breath against your skin a second after your eyes closed. Your noses were the first to touch.

You breathed in, and Leon let out a shaky breath that you couldn’t only feel, but hear as well since you were so close to him. You angled your head to the side slightly, feeling your way out with the tip of your nose as it slowly and gently slid down the side of his nose bridge and poked the inner corner of his cheek.

Your lips ghosted his, feeling him ever so slightly. The softness, the warmth. You shuddered.

Your lips parted, so did his. Your lips pressed softly against his top lip while his pressed against your bottom lip, delighting yourself in how soft his lips were and how inviting they felt. You could only hope you had the same effect on him. He wasn’t pulling away, he leaned in closer, much to your surprise and his hand slowly reached out to lay flat against your knee.

You applied just the tiniest amount of pressure with your lips before pulling back, needing air. Your cheeks were warm, your eyes glossy, and your lips just a little wet from where Leon’s lips had pressed.

You licked your lips, wanting to taste more of him. He did the same. The both of you staring into each other's souls, eyes flickering to each other's lips, then eyes, then back to lips. Not a word was uttered between you two before he leaned forward this time and pressed his lips against yours.

Your heart skipped a beat.

His kiss was just as, if not more, gentle than yours, thinking he would be a little rough or just— anything but so gentle. As if you were more fragile than glass, more fragile than the finest porcelain. Like you were thin paper sat out in the rain, and one little breeze would tear you to pieces.

He kissed you. He wanted this. What was he talking about earlier with his ‘I can’t’? He was doing it right now and you never ever wanted him to stop.

Keeping your lips connected to his, you slowly rose from your seat, hands coming to slide over Leon’s shoulders. He leaned backwards — only his lower body, while his lips refused to leave yours, as he gave you space to sit down with him on the bed. His large, warm hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer and keeping you close.

Your lips parted for a short breath only to close around his bottom lip a second after. But when his lips parted, he didn’t bother gaining more air, he simply worked your mouth open and found your tongue with his own. The sound of wet lip smacking soon filled the room, along with faint panting and pauses for quick breaths — gulping down air when you had the chance.

His hands squeezed your hips and yours fisted the collar of his tight shirt, pulling and not letting him go. A way to ground yourself. Just an hour ago you were so content with the idea of him being too good for you. Knowing that he would never see you the way you saw him. But now here he was, kissing your lips so softly but so desperately.

Your heart was beating so fast inside your chest, trying to explode out of you.

“Leon...” you panted breathily against his mouth, having nothing else to say besides his name. A name you never thought you’d have the opportunity to whimper out like that. You whimpered it once before when you rolled your ankle after running away from a crazy wolf-dog thing, and needed to use Leon as a crutch for a moment, but this was different.

You weren’t sure if you leaned forward or if Leon pulled you closer but he slowly fell back down on the bed, and you followed pursuit. The pillow sunk beneath his head and his hands slid from your hips to your lower back, sending goosebumps all over your skin. You’ll never understand how someone can kick open doors and barrels and people’s heads, and also be so tender and gentle behind closed doors.

He was firm, sturdy as you laid on top of him. You could feel his heart beating against your chest and he could probably feel yours as well. His heart was beating fast, but strong and mighty, and even when he was distracted like this — not alert and ready to defend, you still felt so incredibly safe.

Your tongue pushed its way into his mouth, exploring and massaging where you could. You were thankful that you brushed your teeth when you had a shower earlier, and considering the fact that Leon tasted minty and refreshing, you could only assume he did as well.

His tongue slid against yours, flicking against the roof of your mouth before he pulled back to refill his lungs. You didn’t even have time to share a look before he was back to kissing you.

One hand slid into his sandy blond hair, pulling a sweet and quiet moan from deep within his chest. Your fingers slid against his scalp and teased the roots of his hair, while your other hand laid flat over his pectoral, feeling his muscle and firmness and his strength.

Your movements were slow and steady, like liquid pouring over his skin, there was no rush, there was no danger. It was just you and Leon, sharing kisses and slowly morphing into one being. If love wasn’t this then you didn’t want it.

“Leon... hmmf,” saying his name for no apparent reason other than to just say it. Your robe slipped as you raised your leg and bent your knee, hugging him with your thighs. Leon’s gloved hand slid down to feel the soft, exposed skin of your thigh and you gasped into his mouth. The feeling of his soft fingertips with the scratchy leather sent a heat all throughout your body.

He, of course, didn’t take a robe from you earlier, opting to stay in his filthy clothes since they were more practical for if he needed to defend you and Ashley again. You didn’t think he would have to defend the two of you at all, now that you were off the island and away from the village… but neither you nor Ashley were back home just yet, so he couldn’t afford to take any risks. He was sure determined and that alone made your insides all warm and fuzzy.

His hand gripped your thigh, but his lips stopped moving. You took the opportunity to worship him; to press kisses to the corner of his lips, then two on his cheek — one right beside his ear and the other closer to his jaw as you moved down to his neck.

His skin was so soft, save for the few cuts and scrapes. He lifted his head, giving you more room and you eagerly obliged, leaving soft pecks and wet, open mouthed kisses, little licks and faint nibbles. He hummed in pleasure and it made your whole chest flood with pride.

Pressing a kiss against his adam's apple, you went to move to the other side of his neck, wanting to give his right side equal treatment, but he turned his head. You weren’t sure if he was trying to stop you or not, so you pulled back just to make sure he was okay.

He looked perfectly fine. His cheeks were a soft shade of red that you would now commit to memory for the rest of your life– probably your new favorite color.. His eyes were half lidded and a little glossy, making the different shades of blue in his irises shine brightly even in the darkly lit room. It was impossible to have a fear of drowning when you looked into them.

Though he wasn’t looking at you.

His head was turned to the side, looking over at Ashley who was still sleeping like a rock. Her lips were parted and she breathed heavily, close to snoring but not quite.

It was only when you shifted your body a little, wanting to back off a bit in case he was uncomfortable, that you felt your effect on him. Your thigh felt his excitement, he pursed his lips together and closed his eyes for a moment to focus on his breathing.

Was this really happening?

“She won’t wake up,” you whispered to him and his eyes opened, looking cautiously into your eyes, then back to Ashley, then back to you one final time. You wanted him, and he wanted you, and you had both survived the horrors you encountered over the last few days. You both deserved a break. You both deserved this.

His brow furrowed knitting together tightly. Though the slight upward angle in his brows made him look like a wounded puppy.

“My job isn’t done yet,” he swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. “I need to stay focused.”

You deflated.

“Right.” You nodded once and crawled off of him. Maybe it was for the best, you didn’t want to go too far with him after knowing him for only 48 hours. Though going through copious amounts of trauma together did make for a great bonding experience and therefore it felt like you had known him for months.

You sat on your ankles, hands on your knees. Your robe was open just enough to show your legs but the rest of you was covered. One hand left your knee to wipe your swollen and wet lips, basically wiping away Leon’s kiss, before you tucked your hair behind your ear.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from your lap, feeling embarrassed and maybe even a little ashamed. Were you wrong to think Leon was into it? Into you? It definitely felt like he was, but maybe he snapped out of it once he realized you weren’t that lady in the red dress and the high heels.

As if he could sense your downward spiral, Leon’s hand found yours, the one still resting on your knee, and squeezed it reassuringly. “But I can… stay here?”

You finally looked up and met his ocean blue eyes. He had sat up somewhat, his back resting against the headboard of the bed. He looked just as unsure and nervous as you did. He obviously didn’t have much experience with this sort of stuff, which only made him even more endearing. The poor guy just fought monsters for a living and never had time to slow down and relax.

“While you fall asleep,” he added gently. He wanted to stay with you? In bed? Did that mean he wasn’t just using work as an excuse to not go further with you? He really did just want to stay alert and not have any distractions while the president's daughter was in his care.

“If you want?” He pressed one more time. He was giving you big, puppy dog eyes— knowing him, it was unintentional too. Even if you didn’t want him to stay with you, there was no way you could refuse him when he gave you that face. But you did want him to stay of course.

You didn’t need to say so.

You curled up beside him, sliding your body under the covers. Leon didn’t smell great, but he was at least clean enough— his clothes weren’t covered in blood and dirt but the smell lingered a bit. You weren’t sure if his sweat or the seawater from the jetski ride over was what rid his tight shirt of all the muck. Or maybe he washed them in the shower and dried them quickly afterwards. That would be nice.

Your hand splayed over his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Your nose pressed against his ribs, finding an odd sense of comfort in the smell that lingered. It was Leon after all, it was proof he was there with you, reminding you you were safe even when you had your eyes closed.

His arm was around your neck, letting you use his bicep as a pillow. His heart was beating rather fast as you snuggled into his side but after a few minutes it slowed back down and fell in tune with the steady rise and fall of his chest. Leon turned his head and pressed his lips against your forehead, letting them linger for a moment. And his arm, the one you weren’t laying on, moved over towards you, his hand stroking through your hair.

Cocooned in Mr. Leon S. Kennedy’s arms.

“Get some sleep. I’ll look after you.”

And there go your plans to stay awake with him.

—————————————————————

After waking up in Leon’s arms, you got up and did your morning ritual with Ashley. Breakfast, brushing your teeth, brushing your hair, getting dressed, etc. Leon stood by the door rushing you both as it got close to 9am. A tired but teasing “come on, ladies” came from him as he ushered you both out the door.

Ashley was the first to go home. Being the president's daughter and all. You said your goodbyes to her in the car, opting to not go into the big building with all the security guards. Leon escorted her back to her father — after you and Ashley exchanged emails of course, and by the time she had been delivered home safely, it was already dinner time. The flight from Spain to America chewed up a few hours.

You and Leon didn’t really have a chance to talk when Ashley was around. Though you thought that once it was just the two of you, he might mention something from last night or maybe even be a little more touchy feely. A hand on your thigh while he drove or maybe he would reach for your hand. Maybe press a kiss to the back of your palm once in a while or lean over to kiss your cheek at every stop sign and red light.

He didn’t do any of that.

He barely spoke. You barely spoke. Maybe it was because these were your final moments with him, that you didn’t know what to say or how to act or what to do. How do you say goodbye to someone who saved your life time and time again? How do you just watch him leave without somehow repaying him? Why did he have to leave at all? Why did you have to go back home?

You just did. He just did. It just had to be like this.

Finally once you arrived at your home, Leon got out of the car first, coming around to let you out of the passenger side like a gentleman. You smiled and stepped out, awkwardly hugging yourself as you walked with him to the front door.

This was it wasn’t it? The final goodbye.

You bent down to flip over the corner of the welcome mat, picking up your spare house key and unlocking the door. You hadn’t been home in weeks. Everything was dark and dusty and that homey scent had faded away until you barely recognised where you were.

The door was open but you were yet to step inside. You turned to face Leon first, your hand gripping the door handle tightly until your knuckles turned white.

“…Do you... wanna come in?” You asked hopefully, just wanting to spend more time with him, wanting to feel safe for just a few minutes longer. You wouldn’t be able to feel safe once he walked away. And that foolish little part inside you hoped you could pick up where you left off last night.

But Leon pulled a face. Not out of disgust or hatred or anything bad, he was just… his face was saying ‘no.’ The awkward smile that wasn’t really a smile, more like a ‘man, I’m about to hurt your feelings even though I don’t want to,’ smile.

“I guess not, huh?” You looked down and nodded distantly, realising that this really was goodbye then. Part of you wanted to be angry, for everything that had happened last night, for the feelings you had developed. However, Leon’s ocean blue eyes and his silly floppy hair with those pink, kissable lips... how could you be mad at that?

“It’s been a long couple of days. I should get home.”

“No, yeah. Of course,” you awkwardly shuffled on your feet, avoiding eye contact.

“I’ll probably have another mission lined up for me when I get back to work.” Leon’s voice was quiet and his shoulders were tense. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling but he definitely didn’t look comfortable.

“Yeah.” You nodded slowly, keeping your gaze on your shoes that inched closer towards the inside of your home, wanting to run away and hide.

One beat passed. A sigh left both of you at the same time.

“I’ll see you ‘round, (Y/N)...” you blinked. He was leaving already? Just like that? You finally looked up to meet his eyes, wanting a look at those pools of blue one more time... but he had already turned around and started walking away. He was clearly eager to get away from you, eager to get home and back into his work.

You wouldn't cry over someone you couldn't have...

“Goodbye, Leon.”

You stepped inside your home and closed the door behind yourself.

[troperrific]

/ekuoto spoilers chapter 71/

I figured we would be going through the circus tent first. The fact that it’s made of Mr. Priest’s memories is interesting enough, but I like that we’re seeing only happy memories.

For example, at the beginning, when they go enter the location where the orca’s show should be, they immediately get transported to the beach.

Because although his first aquarium date with Imuri was fun, the orca show was likely a bad memory: Mammon possessed an orca, almost killed the kids and Priest had to work again. So it has no place in his “perfect dream world”.

Which makes me curious about this:

Is this foreshadowing that Mammon could break into the dream world? Could Imuri reach Priest with her art (literally)? Will Priest’s bad memories eventually leak into this “perfect world” and threaten the people inside the tent? Who knows…

Also, I guess we can add “photographic memory” to Daniel’s increasing list of abilities.

Makes sense that Becú would fall down considering that she’s both a novice at being a witch and has been shown to be a clumsy and nervous person.

But seriously, why insist on the brooms?! That’s just asking someone to fall down and hurt themselves. And then there are nudists like Charlotte, whose ass would surely suffer horrible blisters were it not for magic, I suppose. Still!! Some consideration would be nice?? Find some means of travel that’s safer and more comfortable?? Minus points for your leadership, Vir!!

Okay, silliness aside, Vir’s comment about his powers flourishing because they might be closer to hell paralleling with Dante’s own comment about being stronger because they were likely closer to Heaven towards the end of Part 3 got me good.

I’ll wait a bit more, but the parallels between the Sloth and Gluttony arcs are super fascinating to me.

Also, this particular conflict is nothing new:

Most of the characters pushing their values onto Mr. Priest is nothing new. The Church, the witches, the Demon Lords, all of them do it. If anything, this is hilariously like… those standard sitcom tropes where the parents keep arguing about their child’s future.

I’d like to note that… to me, this matter will always be a bit more complicated than “everyone sees Priest as a tool”.

I think most characters do feel sympathy towards him to different degrees. Otherwise we wouldn’t have moments like Vir telling him to live freely because he’s sure the boy’s suffered under the Church, Dante regretting how he couldn’t help him enough, Mikhail musing that he was glad Priest could show his suffering to others at the end of Part 4, Daniel acknowledging his fault in Priest’s declining mental health, etc.

It’s just that almost everyone thinks they know what’s righteous or how the world works or even what’s the key to happiness, and they push and project those values and their own issues on Priest due to his role as The Chosen One.

But regardless of how they feel about Priest, it’s a fact that here, the factions of the Witches and the Church are prioritizing the fate of the world and Priest as a “symbol” and “soldier” rather than as a person.

I talked about it a bit here, a few days before this chapter dropped but… I see both Vir and Daniel as the most selfless motivation-wise… they both want to save the world! They devote themselves full heartedly to their cause, regardless of what or who they lose along the way, nothing is more important than the greater good to them, I think not even themselves! Deeply heroic spirits… but the way they go about it… goodness, it can be so, so vile. And because they essentially intend to use someone who never wanted to be the world’s savior, it becomes rather selfish in a way.

Daniel wants to protect the world, but what kind of world is he protecting if he’s still going to rely on a mentally-ill teen?

Vir wants to change the world, but what kind of change is he proposing when he’s doing exactly what he condemns the Church for, indirectly trampling on the weak to gain power and intending to use a child to fight for him?

And of course, there’s Imuri:

Imuri is simultaneously the only person who’s definitely prioritizing Priest over the world’s fate, but she also has the most selfish motive of all characters this chapter.

She, unlike the others, doesn’t care about whether he can save or protect or change the world, nor does she care to expect that from him.

However, she, like the others, is not thinking about what Priest might want. The (imagined?) danger of him becoming someone else’s is her biggest priority right now.

The manga goes on and on about themes like instincts vs rationality, selfishness vs selflessness (and how the two are not as black and white or well defined as they might appear at first), etc.

So this whole discussion and series of disagreements between the characters is not just about Priest. It’s about the on-going conflict the author wants us to think about.

Is it right to sacrifice the happiness and freedom of one person for the happiness and freedom of the many, like Vir and Daniel propose here? Utilitarians would say yes, and that’s why Daniel, Dante, Heisenberg and even Vir act like they do. But the manga has already shown us through Mr. Priest how awful and cruel that truly is.

Is it right to ignore the suffering of the world just for your own desires or for the sake of one person (be it yourself or someone else)? The demons work along these lines of thought, and that’s how they think it should be, but still remain lonely and feel unloved and unfulfilled. In Part 4, we’re shown that, this line of thinking also hurts Priest, whether it be because of Imuri playing along Asmodeus’ game, or because of his own disappointment in himself during chapters 54 and 55, where he laments giving into his own desires due to the betrayal of his own morals.

Where is the middle ground then? How can it be achieved?

The answer to that is yet to come, if there’s any concrete solution, but I do think the author has already told us where the characters can start:

Behold, the one character who is constantly stuck between the two “philosophies” above: Leah!

If Priest’s depression is everyone’s responsibility, then it is up to them to fix things and make amends.

If the world is everyone’s responsibility, then surely, talking and apologizing and making amends and moving forward together…

Hm. Who knows.

To finish these thoughts, I just have one question:

(The one on the right is from Priest’s memories in chapter 42)

WHO THE HELL IS THIS?

Who is this spooky creepy demon?? I don’t know him??

Imuri’s fujo vision goes into two extreme ways it seems?

(Or maybe, just maybe Bel will have a creepier form? A scarier side? Please?)

On a side note… I wonder what are Mr. Priest’s thoughts on homosexuality…

[bordysbae]

Could you do 53 and 54 combined, with Mark Estapa? Please and thank you 💋

“can i be your boyfriend?”

mark estapa x fem!reader

53. yeah i like you dipshit

54. i want you, not them

disclaimer: i’m so sorry this is definitely one of my least favorites i’ve written, but it’s been in my inbox for a few days and i felt like i need to write it sooner than later? i’ve been pretty sick lately so i truly apologize if this is actually dog shit ugh. ALSO!!! emma is a fake character, idek if ethan has cousins LOL

—

you and mark aren’t dating, but everyone can clearly see that you guys like each other, it’s just a matter of time until you both admit it. normally you aren’t one to get jealous, but something clicked tonight when you saw him talking to her.

ethan’s cousin came to visit him at college, and this isn’t the first time she’s been here either. last year when she came to visit for her winter break, which started a week before michigans, she had everyone’s attention. all the guys were swooning over her, but of course she chose mark. at that time you were nothing with mark, just a close friend with all of the guys, so it didn’t bother you. they never ended up working out since mark thought ethan would be pissed, and he didn’t want to do long distance on top of that.

at the beginning of this semester you and mark became very close friends, and you both developed feelings. neither of you wants to admit it, but it’s just sort of a known fact that you’re bound to date. you guys have seen other people, but once you both began hooking up it stayed that way. you haven’t seen anyone else since you guys first hooked up, and neither has he. but now you’re not so sure, since mark seems perfectly content with her obvious flirting.

you begin to chug your drink as she laughs at whatever he said to her. you can’t imagine anything mark estapa said is that funny, so obviously she’s faking it. “you need to relax, he wouldn’t do that to you y/n,” dylan says to you as he takes a sip from his red solo cup.

“dylan you saw how obsessed they were with each other last year, and it doesn’t help that she’s prettier than me! she looks like a fucking instagram model!” you throw your head back as you place the cup to your lips, finishing the last of your drink.

“relax, she’s not prettier than you. she gets botox and her hair color is fake” dylan chuckles.

“oh dylan you’re such a woman, i love you!” you exclaim as you wrap your arms around the boy. he lets out a laugh and scruffs up the top of your hair.

“let’s go get more drinks yeah?”

“oh hell yeah, i need a lot more to be able to watch this shit” you groan, making dylan chuckle. on your way into the kitchen you both run into luke and tj.

“ah my favorite hughes!” you reply, buzzed a little bit. “hi y/n, hey duker!” luke says.

“y/n did you hear em-“ tj begins to say. “shut up tj, yeah i know she’s here. i don’t really care buddy” you roll your eyes and scoff. you excuse yourself from the conversation before you show anymore jealousy.

you cant stand how much the boys talk about her. it’s always “emma this!” “emma that!” like honestly who cares? you assume ethan isn’t very happy with her at the moment either, so you go find him once you refill your drink. you spot him on the stairs looking bored out of mind as he talks to some random girl, so you decide to save him from his misery, “ethan!” you shout to grab his attention. he instantly turns around and excuses himself from the conversation with the girl. “thank fucking god, you’re my lord and savior!” he exclaims, pretending to bow down to you making you laugh.

“why aren’t you with mark? i feel like at every party you’re always under his arm” ethan asks, taking a sip from his drink.

“he’s uh, with your cousin”

“he is? of course” ethan chuckles. although he’d never admit it, ethan isn’t too fond of his cousin. she’s very touchy with all of his teammates and friends, but since she’s family there’s not much he can do about it.

“yeah, they’re over there” you say pointing to the living room full of drunken people vaping and dancing. emma and mark are sat on one of the couches, and that’s when you notice her hand on marks bicep. that throws you overboard, and makes your blood boil.

“oh you’re kidding” you mumble. ethan turns to you and gives you a confused look.

“what’d you say? i cant hear you over the music.” he says leaning down to hear you better.

“ethan flirt with me!” you blurt out, making ethan spit his drink back in his cup.

“pardon?” he asks, thinking he’s maybe had too much alcohol and is beginning to hear things.

“i said flirt with me! i need to make mark jealous”

“you’re gonna get me killed, y/n!” he cries out.

“and whys that? it’s not like me and mark are dating or anything! we’ve been hooking up, i caught feelings which everyone knows about, and now he’s all over your cousin. so i don’t really see why i cant flirt with you!” you shrug

“i cant tell you why but i just cant do that to him!”

“well he hasn’t been a man and told me he likes me, soooo just flirt with me for christ sake! i’ll go find some random guy to flirt with me if you won’t!”

“no no don’t do that, the guys here are sketchy. fine i’ll flirt with you, but if mark kills me you better speak at my fucking funeral”

“attaboy!” you say playfully hitting his chest.

you and ethan begin fake flirting, and it’s only when you lean into his ear to whisper something that drives mark over the edge. you’ve seen him glaring at you both a few times, but now he’s storming over to you guys.

“eddy what the fuck are you doing?” he drunkenly yells at ethan, making ethan’s eyes go wide. “see i told you he’d kill me! get mad at her man not me! y/n explain it to him” ethan proclaims.

“mark can we just go outside” you roll your eyes at him, he nods his head in annoyance and follows you out onto the porch. you sit against the wall and mark sits down next to you. “the fuck was all that? are we nothing to you?” mark says.

“oh you’re fucking funny mark! you’re one to talk! don’t go blaming me for this shit! first of all, we aren’t even dating so i don’t know why you’re so pissed at me! and sec—“ you begin, but mark cuts you off, “well—“

you then interrupt him back, “i’m not done talking shh! as i was saying, second of all, you were all over emma! you didn’t even seem to mind that her hand was on your arm, and that she was laughing at every fucking thing you said! so no mark, this isn’t my fault and dont accuse me of assuming we’re nothing! i like you, dipshit! is that so hard to see?! i’ve liked you for months now! i don’t want you with anyone else, so i wanted to make you jealous! im not used to seeing you with other girls mark, it’s always me under your arm not emma!” you cry out, now standing up pacing the deck.

“i like you too dumbass! i was planning to ask you out on a date and tell you how i felt, maybe even ask you to be my girlfriend, but then stupid emma came back to town and ruined it! i’m sorry i made you feel that way, but it also hurt me seeing you all over my best friend. girls use me to get to ethan sometimes, and i don’t think you’d do that but it just struck a nerve i guess.” he explains, now standing up as well.

“why did you let her be all over you?”

“i don’t really have an answer if i’m being honest. i didn’t even think about it, i’m really sorry. i get it if you’re pissed at me, i would be too.”

“i’m not pissed at all i’m just annoyed. not necessarily at you, just at everyone. they all kiss the ground she walks on and it’s just fucking annoying. i’m sorry for everything mark, i promise im not mad at you” you say, looking up at the 6’2” boy.

mark looks down at you, and cups your cheeks, “i want you, not emma. know that.” he then leans down to kiss you, and you return the act. his hands remain on your cheeks, and your hands find their way to the back of his nec. you both taste like a mixture of alcohols, but you’re both too far in the moment to even notice.

he pulls back for air and smiles down at you and your slightly swollen lips. “so what do you say, will you be my girlfriend? actually no scratch that, can i be your boyfriend?” he smiles cheesily, way too proud of himself for his romcom of a proposal.

“you’re so cringe, but yes i would love for you to be my boyfriend estapa!” you giggle, playing with the hairs at the back of his neck.

[thecapricunt1616]

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 ♡♡♡

[messy-haired-bum]

Reverse React fic idea

Okay hear me out.

You know how react fics are actually thinly veiled excuses to show off what an awesome person Cale is? What if we twist that around a little bit?

So everything's the same at first glance, right? Literally everyone and their mother is here (kidding, just the most important ppl), and this host comes up.

(Or the unseen organizer, depending on whether or not you like a host OC here)

But.......

This host/organizer hates Cale. Like, despises him. Probably a Sealed God's follower or smth the like. They can't just make something out of nothing and put untrue bullshits on the screen, but they sure as hell can cut things around to paint Cale in the worst light possible.

Like, him being a transmigrator, him being happy at his "stolen" identity, him going around and scamming people, him using his knowledge to manipulate ppl around him, him generally acting even remotely "villainous".

No heroics to be found, just a video reel of Cale acting trashy.

Cale, at first, would be scared. He would be terrified, really. But as the video went on and he caught onto the malice directed at him, he calms right down, because that's who Cale is.

He would then spend the rest of the time prying the host/organizer's identity out of them, and plan an appropriate payback for this invasion of privacy.

Hell, at some point, he even nods in agreement, because, yeah, he's a trash, and it's about time everyone wakes up and notices that!

The rest of the participants, though, while may be confused at first, take one look at the badly edited slander on the screen, and collectively goes "Bullshit!"

Cale stealing og!Cale's identity? Kim Rok Soo, the og!Cale, smiles at the screen nastily.

Cale planning on using Choi Han? Choi Han wants to say that he doesn't have to stab his heart to kill a bastard.

Cale scamming Whipper? Harol lays out the enormous help Cale had given them, and that at one point, Cale was fighting for Whipper more than Whipper was fighting for itself (a la Whipper King, the bastard)

Cale scamming the Jungle? Litana raises the issue of Cale waking up from fainting, goes straight to save the Jungle and then fainting again.

Cale scamming Alberu? Alberu dignifiedly says that it's a partnership, and that it's his money, his choice.

Cale being implied saying he's ignoring the atrocities in front of him? Everyone snorts because they all know that immediately after that, Cale has bled to put a stop to all of those acts.

Cale saying he's not getting involved with that? On rolls her eyes: "So he said. Like a liar."

Basically, I just want a bastard who tries so hard to discredit Cale in his ppl's eyes only for Cale to nod along like he agrees with it and for the rest to become even more sympathetic to Young Master Cale who has such a soft heart who keeps getting himself hurt to save them all-

Cale: See, I am a tr-

Everyone: A HERO!!! OUR HERO!!!! OUR LORD AND SAVIOR!!! OUR GUIDING LIGHT FROM ANOTHER WORLD, THE CHOSEN OF THE GODS-

tldr: Cale suffered from Emotional Damages, but not the kind the host/organizer wants :)))))))))))))))

[darkk-academic]

Mirage

[Part I] [Part II]

[Five Hargreeves x Reader]

Summary : At first he thought it was a mirage, a phantom. A cruelty of his own mind.

Warning : None.

Savior.

Pulling him out from his mind, that is full of debris left behind by a future yet to transpire.

In the form of savior you come with a laugh.

Outside the weird man's door, who he'd just tried to sell an encyclopaedia to.

"Hi, I'm selling encyclopedias for my youth group. I was curious if—"

The man had shut the door on his face.

Silence and then—

Then there was a laugh.

And here you are.

Eyes half-closed, laughing, looking—looking—

And he—he feels—

The smell of petrichor as the first few raindrops hit the parched, earthy soil, carried on the breeze, coming in through an open window, brushing the wind chimes as it does so, ensuing a dance of silence with tinkling melody.

That's the way he feels at your first appearance in 1963.

Though you don't have any scent, but in your presence he feels the fragrance of peace, and having been deprived of it for so long, he being the parched soil of anguish, gulps it down with feverish desperation.

He's horribly hollow, and in the silence of him your melodious laughter is very much welcomed.

He relishes it.

—Overwhelmed by it all.

Gaze averting, he clears his throat. "Do you know about—"

"About the apocalypse?" Laughter dwindling, you complete his sentence, voice soft.

He knows without seeing, your eyes adorn that look of understanding.

"Yes. That."

"Everything will be fine, Five," you assuage. "I'm here—"

In a way that's not nearly enough.

"—I'm right here."

And yes, yes you are. And no, no, he doesn't need you. But—

Will you stay?

•••

He stands outside the asylum he'd just confined his brother to and—

"What have I done?"

Because all of this is his fault.

If he hadn't messed up the jump. If he hadn't let the apocalypse happen. If he hadn't left in the first place—

"What was right."

You.

He turns in your direction, guard going up, gut churning at being seen. So exposed, so vulnerable.

"My brother," he snarls, "wouldn't have been here if not for my colossal fuck up."

"Actually, he wouldn't have been anywhere at all if it weren't for you. Not one of them."

The air is knocked out from his lungs. It's just a simple statement. It means nothing. It's inconsequential.

It is everything he wants to hear. Has silently pleaded to be acknowledged. For just one of them to see—

And it's you.

You see—

And he—he feels—

Stay. Please.

•••

You are adorable when flustered.

Wide eyes, lips parted, you gape at the sight of all the strippers as they dance.

For the first time, he wishes you to be tangible.

So that he can see the blush on your cheeks—

No, he doesn't.

He takes a seat, staring at the lady dancing, while his attention stays on you.

He wonders whether you've ever been to a club before. Not likely, if your expressions are anything to go by.

You look so…

Your eyes have this look, equal parts curiosity and shyness.

And, now that he thinks about it, you do that quite a lot, gaze at your surroundings in wonder, as though seeing everything for the first time.

He opens his mouth to question you—

"She's too young for you."

The taste of reunion turns sour as the conversation progresses. Things get shittier with every moment that he spends talking to his pea-brained brother.

"—and if I was gonna do something about it, it sure as hell is not gonna be with you."

Honestly, if he could've abandoned himself, he probably would have done that too.

Still, thanks for that, Luther.

"Oh my lord…"

His gaze flits over to you and—

Throwing his head back, he laughs.

Eyes stuck to the man currently getting a lap dance, you look positively scandalized.

For the possibility of seeing red stain your cheeks—

He will let you stay.

•••

Where do you disappear to?

You are with him until you aren't.

Like rain that comes and goes as it pleases.

"Where do you go?" He asks, alone, only now getting the chance after being around Diego and his crazy lady for so long. "When you aren't with me? Where are you?"

Can he trust you?

He already does.

You bite your lip, the apologetic glint in your eyes causing his lips to turn down.

"I can't tell you."

He finds he doesn't much care. He expected as much.

Jaw clenching, he opts to check the darkened rooms of his Father's farce of a house instead of offering you assurances.

Instead of soothing the guilt that he can see you feel.

"I'm sorry," you continue.

He shrugs, faking nonchalance. "Whatever."

Go then. Go wherever you have to. He doesn't care.

But—

Listen.

Stay just for a while?

•••

He comes back to Elliot's with a bleeding cut.

A cut that Pogo, Pogo of all people—

"Hello." He finds you standing in the middle of the room he'd taken for himself.

You'd left him in a blink.

As you always do.

There and gone.

Ignoring you, he goes to the bathroom, searching for a first aid kit.

"Pogo?" You question, knowingly.

It angers him.

This insouciance of yours.

Like it doesn't affect you to be apart from him. Like you don't feel his absence as an incessant wound. Like you don't care.

Throwing the first aid kit on the bed, he runs a hand through his hair.

"What's wrong?"

You are.

He is.

Everything is fucking wrong.

At his silence, you try again, "You can tell me, Five."

And it's the way you say his name.

As if it's something sacred.

"You are what's wrong!" He snaps, blood rushing. "The way you seem to know everything is wrong." He glares, rounding on you.

"Your presence is wrong. Your absence is wrong. The way you make me feel is wrong. The way you aren't tangible enough is wrong. But most of all, the way you come, but don't stay is wrong."

He regrets it.

Why did he say anything?

Has he no impulse control?

The stress of the day must be getting to him.

Or maybe it's sleep deprivation.

You stare at him, tugging at your fingers—how can you even do that? You aren't even—

"I only know as much as you've told me."

What?

Out of everything he said, that's what you—

He's fine. He's grateful even that you didn't focus on the rest.

And—

He steps closer to you.

"What? What I have told you?" He quirks a brow, carefully recomposed.

Finally, some answers.

"Care to elaborate? Or is this something 'I can't say' too?"

You smile beautifully and shake your head. "No, um…I…" you trail off, brows crinkling. "I don't know how to explain."

Well, that he can help with.

He hums. "Do I meet you in the future?

"Yes," your voice is so achingly fond it makes his throat burn. "Yes, you do."

"How are you here? Is this like your power?"

Something flashes behind your eyes, too fast for him to decipher.

"No," you reply. "No, a…lady helped me."

The first thought that pops in his mind at the mention of the lady is of The Handler.

"A lady?" He repeats. Eager wishes for the lady to be anyone but her echo in his mind. "And who might this lady be? Do you know her name? What did she look like?"

"It wasn't…her. It wasn't the Handler," you reassure him, no doubt seeing through his guise of calm.

How do you just know? How can you know him so well?

The answer is as simple and as complicated as this :

You see him.

But. Curiosity demands to be satiated. "Then, who was she?"

"She said her name was Roxanne."

The name.

It isn't one he's familiar with.

And yet—

Blinking, he clears his head.

"No clue who that is." He shrugs. "Now that we are on the topic of names, what's yours?"

"Well people calle—call me, Perry. It's short for Perdita."

Perdita.

Isn't she a princess from The Winter's Tale?

How fitting.

The atmosphere turns quite serene after that.

He sits nursing a cup of coffee with you, by the window, legs dangling down.

The moonlight shines down on you and you look—

And he—he feels—

But that's besides the point because—

You talk. Silvery voice invading his ears, as you regale him with tales from your childhood.

About the orphanage you grew up in.

About your friends.

About the hotel you work in.

And he listens.

And he—he feels—

So light. So content. So peaceful. So lo—

But that's all besides the point—

The point is that you stay.

•••

He has noticed that you stare at him in something that can be awe.

Sitting in the coffee shop as he waits for Vanya, he observes the way your eyes are…just stuck on him.

And he—he feels—

"You stare at me a lot," he states.

Wishing he could see the blush that must come along with that shy smile.

"I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable," you say. Still, gazing at him. "But, now that I can stare at you, I can't find it in myself to look anywhere but at you."

He frowns. "What? What do you mean?"

He's come to loathe that apologetic glint in your eyes.

"I can't tell you."

And there it is.

"You know, it frustrates me to no end when you say that."

"I can go if you want."

If he could take a hold of your hand, he will, but since he can't—

"I want you to stay."

•••

"I never got the chance to dance with you."

Melancholia dipped words spill out of your mouth, the despondency of them tugs at his heart.

Gaze flitting over to you—

Longing stitched together.

That's what you look like as you stare at the couples dancing together.

He opens his mouth to—

To what?

Ask you to dance? His conscience scoffs.

Rub salt into the wound?

Gritting his teeth, he closes his mouth.

But the expression on your face—

The more he stares at it, the more suffocated he gets—

And he—he feels—

He leaves.

Isn't it ironic?

After asking you to—

He's the one who doesn't stay.

•••

"So much can change in a matter of seconds. One could overthrow an empire. One could fall in love—"

Unwitting, his eyes lock with yours.

Something happens then.

A catharsis.

An avalanche of emotions.

He sees flashes of your beautiful smiles. Hears the melody that is your laughter. The fragrance of peace. Your cold, phantom touch—

A crack in his middle splits wide, the abyss peeking out, a tug connects, hooking around his heart, from you to him.

Trust. Comfort. Understanding. Care.

All press into his rotten core, and—

And he—he feels—

Oh.

Now more than ever, he needs you to stay.

•••

"You don't have to do this, Five."

But he does.

He has to. Otherwise—his family—

He has to.

He's disgusted by himself, but he's used to it. He's grown habituated to the blood that sullies his hands. He has learned to suppress the gag when he sees his reflection, on good days he can almost ignore it.

He can stomach a bit more.

For his family.

But—

Can you?

He remembers you saying, 'Even if you did go ahead with this plan, it won't change the way I feel about you.'

But—

Will you look at him the same?

At the thought of revulsion in your eyes when you gaze at him—

He doesn't think he can stomach that.

"Will… will this…" He trails off, staring at you despairingly.

He's the most honest at his lowest.

And this—

Just like last time, he finds himself succumbing to the pull that tugs him to you.

"Will this change the way I feel about you?" You help. Ever understanding.

He nods jerkily.

You smile that beautiful smile of yours.

His heart stutters.

"Nothing can change the way I feel about you, Five." You step closer to him. "I accept you in your entirety. All the good and the bad."

His eyes fall shut in surrender as your hand comes near his face.

Cold touch trails from his temples down to his jaw, before coming back up and cupping his cheek.

He leans into it, brows furrowing.

"I fell, like the seconds slipping, into your love," you whisper.

His eyes snap open at the confession.

You—you—

Holding his stare, you appear to stand on your tiptoes—

His eyes close again at the press of cold on his forehead.

He thinks his heart might just beat out of his chest.

"And with each passing second, I only fall more."

His mouth goes dry.

Phantom. Mirage. Whatever you are. He wants you. Bit and crumbs. He wants all that you can give.

In return, he'll make himself deserving of you.

"Stay?"

"Stay."

•••

He's a failure.

He's gone and doomed them all.

Hisfamilyisdeadbecauseofhim—

And he's still the only survivor.

Not for long.

Black dots dance in front of his blurry vision as he peers up at the gun pointed at him.

Oblivion— It'll be a welcome relief.

He wonders whether he will see his family again.

He wonders whether he will see you.

He wonders whether he will be able to be with his family and you, all of you, free of pain—

"Five," someone whispers in his ear.

With great effort, his eyes move and—

Hello, Angel. Come to save me, have you?

"Five, you can't give up." Cold grazes the sides of his face. "Please, Five, you didn't suffer so much to lose now."

But he's so tired.

Would it be so bad if he slept?

This world smothers him—

"You promised to stay."

Perdita.

—you make him breath.

He remembers the promise. He remembers. Remembers. Remembers—

'I fell, like the seconds slipping, into your love.'

'So much can change in a matter of seconds. One could fall in love.'

'And with each passing second, I only fall more.'

So

Much

Can

Change

In

A

Matter

Of

Seconds

He can fight a bit more.

For his family. For you.

For as long as you want him to—

He will stay with you.

•••

"Alright, everyone say your goodbyes and everything, and then be back here at six, although you're welcome to come sooner."

Giving the final command to his siblings, he watches them leave before promptly jumping to the rooftop, where you wait.

"I will be leaving soon," you greet him with those words.

The words shake him to his core, striking him like lightning.

Leave?

He can feel his heart picking up its pace, feel his throat clog up—

"I love you." You smile so beautiful, so beautiful it hurts. "Don't worry, you will see me again," you assure, once again seeing him.

Your eyes flutter—

He jerks forward, towards you, yanked by a feral sort of fear—

"Wait!" He stops, your eyes snap open. "I… stay," he pleads. "Stay. Please. Just for a while. I need to say something."

"Okay."

Patient, you wait for him to speak.

And he—he feels—

He has never longed for someone so hopelessly.

For the first time, he lets himself feel. Lets himself need, once and for all, surrender to the inescapable pull that tugs him to you, the fear and the love—

He has never allowed himself to feel so deeply and now that he does, everything else from the academy to the apocalypse seems superficial, seems insubstantial and transient and negligible in the face of this—everything else, his desires and dreams and demands that he'd been able to control, to suppress, but this—this between you and him—this is nothing like that, this is so distinct and detached and different, and he longs and he longs and his soul screams, his silent cries of anguish echo all throughout the space-time continuum, and he yearns and aches and still, still, he longs—

Through haze, he thinks he hears a voice, faint and distant, 'Your wish is my command, love.'

"Five!"

Your gasp has him opening his eyes, he hadn't even realized he'd closed them.

And then he sees you—

You, solid and corporeal and tangible.

His jaw falls open.

You appear just as surprised as him, touching your hair and face.

Visible instead of translucent.

But yes, yes it's true.

"How…?"

"I have no idea," you reply. Head lifting from the inspection you'd been doing on yourself to look at him.

He doesn't know who moves first, one moment you both are staring at each other, awestruck—

And the next, he's meeting you in a desperate embrace.

Hands circling your waist as your curl around his neck, your nose nuzzling into his cheek, he hides his face in your hair, lifting you up and spinning.

He finds himself melting into it, into you. Nothing has felt so right—

And he—he feels—

Letting you down, he leans back just a bit—hands still around your waist, yours too, rest around his neck—smiling down at you.

He cannot seem to find words, but you appear to be content with silence, peering up at him.

'I never got the chance to dance with you.'

He recalls you saying.

Pulling back, he steps away from you.

Smiling at your confused expression, he goes down on one knee, holding his hand out to you.

"Dance with me?"

Your lips part, dumbstruck.

Then you throw your head back and laugh.

His heart warms at the sight of it.

You take his hand.

He holds your hand, the other settling at your back, while your only free hand comes to rest on his shoulder.

Few moments in and he knows two things—

You have zero clue about dancing,

And he can spend all his time teaching you how to dance.

How can he not?

When you flash him that beautiful dimpled smile after stepping on his toes.

He twirls you, elegant and slow. Pulling you with your back to him, with your arms crisscrossed your fingers twine with his, moving side to side.

Cheek resting on your head, he sighs.

Thank you, he thinks, for everything you've done.

Unfurling you out of his hold in a swift move, gently he tugs you in again, this time facing him.

Under the moonlight, you appear to be sublime, ethereal, just like your existence.

Forearm supporting your back, he dips you, keeping his eyes on yours as he does.

I'm in love with you.

Straightening, he draws you back, hands moving to wrap around your middle as your encircle his neck.

Melding and merging into each other.

He wants this night to never end.

Pressing his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut, he sways gently.

Stay. Stay. Stay.

•••

Dawn comes too soon.

Stepping away from you, he tries to push down the fear he experiences as you once again turn translucent.

"Smile, Five," you demand, smiling yourself. "You will see me soon."

He smiles for you. Pained. Resigned.

Don't go, he wants to say—

You start to disappear, the way he'd seen the very first time.

As though merging into the atoms surrounding him.

But the truth is—

You can't stay.

There and gone.

•••

Extra Credit :

"I'm sorry." You stand in front of him, eyes unseeing, peer over his shoulder. "Do I know you?"

………………………………………………………………………

A/N :

Here it is!

If there's any mistake, apologies, real sleepy rn.

Gave a name to reader cause, maybe S4 will let this be fleshed out into a fic?

Hope you guys enjoyed this.

Thankyou! ❤️